Wiccan Rough Draft Ending

Last few pages of my story Wiccan.

         This was all wrong. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Taylor thought as he knelt beside a deathly pale Aisling. Tears rolled down his cheeks as his sister stared at the sight in shock.

         Bailey gazed at Taylor as he pulled a seemingly lifeless Aisling into his arms, cradling her protectively against his chest. She could see, could feel, his pain.

          Come on Bailey, think! she commanded herself. There has to be something...

         The plan erupted in her brain so suddenly that it took a few moments to sink in. Dashing across the room, she dodged the rubble on the ground and grabbed Aisling's BOS from off the only undestroyed object in the room: Mr. Hayes' desk.

          "Come on, come on. Where is it?" she muttered as she flipped frantically through the pages, searching for the spell she'd seen earlier.

          "YES!" she exclaimed as she located it.

         Taylor became aware of his sister's hand as she clamped it down on his shoulder.

          "Taylor, we only have one shot at this; as it is, she's slipping away fast. Please just believe," Bailey pleaded and then closed her eyes and concentrated.

         It took a minute for his sister's words to register, and then he turned to her in shock.

         Bailey was chanting a spell, her eyes closed and the hand on his shoulder a deep blue. Out of the corner of his eye, Taylor saw protective blue bubble form around Aisling's body.

          Just believe, she'd said. Believe in what? He wondered as he stared at the girl in his arms, the one whom he hadn't given two glances to before all this and was now totally in love.

          "What do I have to do, sis?" he whispered.

         In response, a message resounded in his head, loud and clear.

          'Concentrate and talk to her like I am talking to you. Just imagine your words in her head.'

          'What am I supposed to say?'

          'Taylor,' Bailey's voice was becoming frantic. 'I can only hold her spirit her for so long. You have to bring her back!'

         The urgency in his sister's voice scared him. Automatically, he stopped thinking about what he had to do and just did it.

          'Aisling, please let this work,' he pleaded as he envisioned his words flowing through her head. 'Don't leave me, I need you. Please.'

         Despite his pleading, Taylor could feel her life slowly slipping away from him.

         His sister's barrier wavered then fell as a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

         Desperately he reached for the white light, her life, with his mind and gripped it tightly, tugging it back to her body.

          'Don't die on me, Aisling. I love you.'

         Bailey, who'd been desperately trying to reconstruct her barrier stopped when she felt a strong surge of energy. Her eyes popped open to ascertain the source only to see a dark purple light surrounding her brother and Aisling. Bailey started as a white light filled Aisling's body. It spread out from her to engulf Taylor as well. Realization struck as the magnitude of the bond between Aisling and her brother was unearthed.

         The light disappeared almost as quick as it had appeared, leaving the three amidst the wreckage.

         Aisling found herself gazing up into concerned and loving eyes.

          "Hey," Taylor said softly.

          "Hey," Aisling smiled and then glanced around with widened eyes.

          "Wow, we made a mess."

         Taylor laughed as relief spread through him.

          "Yeah, I guess we did," he agreed before leaning down to brush his lips tenderly against hers. Aisling electricity, now familiar and need flowed through him as he deepened the kiss.

          "Hey, not everyone in here wants to watch you two mack on each other," Kent mockingly complained as he picked his way over to the trio.

          "Shut up, Kent," Taylor snapped a grin on his face.
         Bailey rolled her eyes and slid over, making room for Kent. As the dust settled, it revealed a sobering picture. Taylor, on his knees, clutched Aisling, who lay sprawled where she fallen amidst the rubble. Bailey knelt next to them, Aisling's hand caught tightly in her own as she leaned against Kent, who'd slid his arms gently around her waist as extra support.

         Sirens filled the air, increasing in volume the closer they got. As they sat there, waiting for the police, Kent voiced the one thought that was on all their minds: "The Calvary arrives, once again too little, too late."