The Greatest Sacrifice

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Again, I own NOTHING!

Author's Notes: Okay, be prepared to tear up. I am SO sorry for this. It just came to me. Just in case, I'm gonna go hide. (hides in bomb shelter)

The lights went out. "No!" A gunshot echoed. The lights came back on. The audience gasped, some screamed.

Nathan's eyes were screwed shut, waiting for the pain. Nothing happened. He heard Rotti gasp and drop his gun. Nathan tentatively opened his eyes. At his feet, Shilo was laying in a pool of her own blood.

"Shilo!" he screamed. He dropped to the floor beside her, ignoring the stabbing pain in his legs. He cradled her head and rested it on his knee. Tears clouded his vision and streamed down his face. "Shilo!"

A small moan. "Dad?"

He pulled her closer, "Shilo! It's me. It's your father!"

Shilo's eyelids fluttered, then lifted. She smiled weakly, "You're okay."

He pulled her closer, "Why did you do that?! Why?! After all I did?!"

Shilo reached for his hand, not finding it. Nathan grabbed her hand in a death grip. "I couldn't let you die, Dad. You're my Dad." She paused, gasping softly, "No matter what happens."

A small sob passed Nathan's lips, "Oh God, Shi. I'm so sorry." He closed his eyes, wishing to any god that this was a bad dream.

"Dad," Shilo's hand cupped his cheek. Nathan rested his hand on top of hers. He opened his eyes. Shilo was crying, "I love you, Dad."

Nathan pulled Shilo against his chest, "I love you, too, Shilo. I love you, too." Shilo inhaled once, before going still. She was dead.

That was it. Nathan sobbed his heart out. He cradled Shilo's head against his chest, rocking back and forth. He was dimly aware of Rotti's coughing in the background, or the soft crying of the audience. He did see, through the cloudy film of his tears, Rotti falling to the floor, dead.

Nathan stopped his rocking, and, despite his bleeding legs, stood up and picked Shilo up bridal-style. The audience was silent as he limped to the door, tears still flowing from his eyes. He pushed the doors opened. He was greeted by flashing lights and a limo.

The paparazzi's reactions were the same as the audience's. They parted to let the crying father pass through untouched.

Nathan trudged passed the horrified looks and the scared whispers, his dead daughter still in his grip. She looked just like her mother. Thinking of that brought a fresh onslaught of the crying. He gazed at Shilo's peaceful expression. "Marni, help me," he pleaded in a broken whisper, "I'm so sorry, Shilo."