(My kind of Shifter is not the kind of shapeshifter you're used to, by the way...)

(Let me know if you want to see more of this story. Also, yes, I know some things are not answered directly and instead left unknown... just in case I continue this :) )

Jane sat on the couch, her violet eyes fixed on the page of her journal. Her pencil danced across the paper, elegantly creating lines in her normal cursive handwriting, which humans apparently found hard to read.

...Life's been strange since I've been stuck here. Most of the time I've no idea what's going on, and all the time, I have to keep these 'egos' from getting themselves killed. Most are complete morons who I'm certain have a death wish, such as Wilford. I'm sure the only reason he's alive is because it is illegal in this world to kill anyone. What cowards humans are, not dueling one another; it is treated as a mundane event in my world, while in this, you could hardly flick a person and you would be imprisoned.

Well, I've been sitting here for seven hours, fifty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds and three of my band have not yet returned home.

She glanced worriedly at the door, the dense rain pounding on the windows and the roof.

They were supposed to be home almost three hours, fifty-three minutes and seven seconds ago.

They brought the nervous one - Eric is his name - with them, and since they knew he would bee too anxious to drink, he would be the one driving them home. He hasn't answered a single one of my twenty-one calls. I hope that he and the other three, Wilford and Dark, are safe as well, but this one is... fragile. If anything happened to them, it would ruin him, if he was not dead too.

Jane jumped as the door suddenly slammed open, causing the tip of the pencil to slide across the page and snap, the graphite bouncing off and plummeting to the floor, right next to her leg, which was wrapped from below the knee to above her ankle in bandage wrap.

A wasted man with a pink mustache, a drunken man in a suit, and a nervous man in a white, black and reddish-orange T-shirt stumbled through the door, dotted with raindrops and laughing like everything was right with the world. Narrowing her eyes, Jane slammed the book shut and glared with daggers in her eyes at them. The nervous one, Eric, noticed her look first, and his timid chuckling was immediately snuffed out like water hitting a hot ember. Wilford, who had his arm around Eric and Dark's shoulders, stopped suddenly as Eric nearly dug his heels in through the floor; he knew that look, and it was a death omen.

"I see you're safe," she said with a mock nonchalance in her tone, her expression cold and angry.

"Well, of course, you put us in good hands," Wilford joked, ruffling Eric's hair. He uncomfortably took the teasing, doing his best to push his glasses up against the rocking movement. Wilford patted him on the back and let him be as Jane's glare became angrier.

"Tell me, Dark, what time is it?" she requested, waiting as Dark searched for a clock on the wall. The man, surrounded in a grey aura, squinted to see the numbers clearly.

"Twelve twenty-seven," he replied in a muffled, uncertain voice. It was obvious he had no idea why she was asking the question. Eric sheepishly hid behind Wilford, as if he knew he'd done wrong.

Jane rolled her eyes, her eyelids quelling her cold, violet stare. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger, frowning with frustration. What idiots.

"And what time did you say you'd be home by?" she growled, and the two previously confused men looked as if they'd been smacked painfully with realization.

"Oooooooh," Wilford said.

"Oh..." Dark said, hiccuping once before becoming silent. "Right."

"I-I- I didn't realize it was that time already-" Eric explained frantically.

Jane looked up, her irises glinting with hellfire as she focused on the cowardly man.

"So, you didn't bother to check your phone at least ONCE while you were out?!" she barked, Eric cowering behind Wilford with fear glistening in his brown eyes. "I called you TWENTY-ONE TIMES! I TEXTED you THIRTY-TWO times! Not even ONE of them was answered! Not a SINGLE! ONE!"

"Take it easy," Dark hissed, glancing at Eric. "It was our fault; we had him preoccupied with following us around and participating in things. Don't yell at him."

"Then why hadn't YOU checked up on me?!" Jane snapped. "I called you fifteen times after Eric hadn't answered! And I called YOU-" (she glowered at Wilford) "-TEN times! I cannot believe the amount of... of immaturity and carelessness you've displayed, all in one night!"

"You're not our real mom," Wilford retorted sloppily. "You can't... tell us what to do!"

As her eyes widened with anger, it was at this moment his friends knew...

He'd messed up. Badly.

Jane stood, limping over with as much gusto as she could muster in her weak body, and glared down at him, as she was nearly an inch and a half taller.

"Listen to me, you arrogant dolt," she snapped, pointing a finger right at his Adam's apple. "My leg is maimed. I have no energy to teleport. I have no energy to shift. I cannot use my tradition necromancy, and therefore I had NO other way of telling if you were all still alive!"

"We can take care of ourselves!" Wilford argued. "We don't need you hovering over us! I have a gun, remember?"

"And you are completely intoxicated!" Jane barked. "What if you shot someone innocent? What if you shot Dark? Even Eric?"

"Oh, pffftttt! My aiming's best when I'm drunk. I always hit my target!" Then he thought over his last statement. "Well... a target-"

"You nearly had me pacing ruts into the floor!" she interrupted. Then, as to let her frustration out, she growled and tapped his chest in a challenge. "I could so easily decide to kill you, right here, right n-"

Something to the side distracted her.

And as she glanced down, only for a brief moment, two large, brown eyes stared back at her, belonging to a terrified man. A man who was familiar with hostility. Well, it was more the shell of a man, and the soul of a child who stared up at her. Pleading. Her words caught in her throat as she looked back at him, her angry features softening and contorting into guilt.

Eric trembled. He was afraid, and not of something she could protect him from, because he was afraid of her. Jane's hand involuntarily lowered a bit, her walls crumbling down as she stared into his terrified eyes, watching the tears well up at his eyelids.

How fragile. How vulnerable. How, to put it bluntly, weak.

He was nothing compared to herself, as she was hundreds of years old (though, to her race, she was considered only a young adult) with the fit body of a twenty-five-year-old human and the courage of a lion. No, he was a whimpering pile of seemingly never-ending trepidation.

A whimpering pile that she wanted to protect.

She sighed and took him by the shoulder. "Come here." Jane pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him. Wilford took a step back, Dark and him sharing a puzzled, awkward look.

"I-I'm sorry," Eric mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric of her dark blue sweater. "I'm so, s-so sorry. I sh-should've... should've done better-"

"Hush," Jane said softly, resting her head easily on his soft black hair. "I shouldn't have been so harsh. I was only afraid, friend, that I'd lost you. That's all." She smiled, trying to calm her own nerves, which had not yet calmed. "After all, who else could keep me sane? I have no idea who could ever fill the space if I lost you. I don't think they even could."

"Well," Wilford whispered quite loudly to Dark. "And they say human girls have bad mood swings-"

"I can hear you, Warfstache," Jane murmured sharply as she closed her eyes, squeezing Eric a bit as to comfort his little quivering self. "It's alright, Eric, you can calm down."

Dark motioned for Wilford to follow with a sharp jerk of his head in the other direction. "Let's leave before it get sappier." Wilford nodded vigorously, and the two crept away from the scene and into their bedrooms, which were already occupied by snoring egos.

Jane held onto him for a moment more as two sets of footsteps creaked up the stairs. As they reached the top, she sighed and took a step back, holding him by the shoulders. He sniffled, his eyes still a bit teary.

"Have you eaten?" she asked him. He shook his head. "Sit down, love, I'll get you something. You look exhausted."

A hesitant laugh escaped him. "Y-yeah... but I'm okay, I guess."

"Nonsense. You've probably been running around with those two doing Sköll knows what for longer than you should've been, and not to mention the drinking." Jane hobbled towards the kitchen, careful not to hurt her leg any more than she already had. "You'd already been travelling around town for a long time. They've got to stop dragging you around so much..."

She made her way to the fridge, gripping one door handle for support and opening up the left, squinting into the bright light to see the contents of the shelves.

"Well, did you have fun at least?" she asked.

"Y-yeah." That was uncertain. A lie.

"Oh, don't bother lying to me, I can hear it in your voice," she said flatly. "What happened?"

Eric sighed. "I-It was a lot of... gambling, and really loud yelling. A lot of fighting, too. I was... I was kinda bored. I started talking to a really, really pretty girl there. Actually, a few of them, b-but anyways, a few minutes later, she said she had to go to the bathroom, and... and she never came back."

Jane winced. It wasn't very noticeable; you only could've recognized it if you saw how her hand hesitated before grabbing the leftover pizza from the night before. It was Hawaiian, Eric's favorite. Because there weren't many who liked this kind of pizza, there were still five pieces left. She sighed sorrowfully and took the food wrapped up in plastic wrap.

"I'm terribly sorry about that," she said quietly.

"I-I don't really understand. W-why doesn't anyone w-want to t-talk to me?"

And there it was. He was becoming more aware. Jane balled her hand up in a fist and set it down on the counter, contemplating what to say.

"They... are small minded creatures," she said finally. "They are so used to the darkness that light such as yours cannot reach them. There is nothing wrong with you, Eric, it is their inability to adapt to the light that makes them bitter. You are a special being, gifted with this light. Although it comes with the burden of being misunderstood, it is a gift nonetheless, and it will help many people as well as yourself one day." Jane snorted, and in more of an Earthian tone she said, "Hell, it even helped me out."

A brief silence followed.

"I... I did?"

Jane turned to face him, the man sitting with his legs up on the couch and his hands wringing his mother's handkerchief for comfort.

"Well, of course," Jane said, beginning to hobble back to him with his food. "I might be small minded, but I'd have to be an idiot to not be affected by your light. It's very bright, you know. Very welcoming. Cordial."

When she finally limped to him, she handed him his food (to which he whispered a polite "Th-thank you.") before turning to get a blanket from the other couch.

"You're awesome," Eric said suddenly, which was something Jane hadn't expected one bit. Her lips parted a bit, though he couldn't see, and her pupils dilated. The warm feeling of affection passed through her.

"Th-thank you," she said, shocked right down to the bone that he'd complimented her after the yelling. "You are as well." She yawned, feeling the need for sleep becoming stronger.

A content huff came from her. She turned to see him smiling, his brown eyes shining in such a way she'd never seen before. There was a sort of tranquility in his happiness that she never would have expected from him.

Jane gathered the blanket up in her arms and began to struggle to sit, finding it hard to position her leg in a way so it wouldn't twinge with pain.

"Here." He offered his hand out to her, and she gratefully took it. Using his arm as support, she guided her weak figure down to the couch. As she spread the blanket out over the both of them, she stared down at her bandage, a painful reminder of what she hadn't yet recovered.

She laid down on the other side of the couch, her elbow on the arm of the chair as she stared into the electric fireplace, the mock-up flames snaking up from the fake wood. This is where she slept in the night, comforted by the door being so near. Jane could fend off intruders from the others if she was closer.

"Goodnight, Eric," she mumbled, closing her eyes as she propped her chin up onto her fist and laid her head back.

"Y-you're going to bed?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I-I'll try to be q-quiet, then."

She hummed with a smile. Jane knew he would take five years just to chew one bite of his leftover pizza if she didn't say something. "Thank you. That is much appreciated, but don't worry yourself too badly; I can sleep perfectly fine with some background noise."

Eric nodded; she could sense the motion.

"Goodnight," he said with a mouthful of pizza. Jane merely hummed gently, already letting her mind slip into unconsciousness. She was exhausted, more tired than she thought she'd been.

The darkness enveloped her mind lightly, just so she could vaguely sense the things around her, but not enough so that she was lost completely in the land of dreams. Time went by quickly; ten minutes felt like five seconds as she continued to feel the sensation of motion and sound around her, the smell of pizza nearly making her stomach rumble.

I can eat tomorrow, she thought as she let herself drift a little further. Now, she couldn't hear very well, the sound of chewing becoming distant. She wasn't even sure if she could hear it anymore. Besides, I am quite comfortable right h-

Something touched her.

Jane awoke, keeping her eyelids shut as her heartbeat quickened. Intruder? Actually, on the contrary... this person was very passive.

Eric gently raised her other arm up and held it up, allowing himself to scoot under it and close the space between them. He sat directly by her, lying his head on her shoulder and curling his legs up to rest on hers. Then, still holding her arm, he adjusted the blanket so that it fit over the both of them equally. After he was satisfied with how it was, he wrapped Jane's arm over himself and snuggled into her shoulder.

Her heartbeat quickened. She'd never been involved in something like this before! What was she to do? Was this normal human behavior?

Should she push him away?

The last thought was thrown from her mind the second he let out a relaxed breath, seeming quite comfortable where he was already.

But... Jane didn't mind. She didn't mind at all.

It was at this moment she decided that no matter what, this fragile, vulnerable, and to put it bluntly, weak little creature was to be protected. His innocence preserved. Jane, in this moment, took it upon herself to be his guardian. There was something about his vulnerability that played her heartstrings like the strings of a harp.

Don't worry, friend, she thought, opening her eyes a bit to peek at him. All she could see was his forest of wet, curly black hair against her cheek and neck.

I will protect you.

So... what do you think?? I, personally, really liked this one. It doesn't display romantic love (unless you want to consider it that, then go ahead) but rather that of a guardian and a child. I'll probably continue this, maybe do a backstory of how Jane got to Earth in the first place.

My editing was kind of crap for this chapter because I'm writing this at 12:14, and, well, I'm not exactly a good night owl. See, I can't sleep for a long time, but when I try to do something, I'm too tired to actually get it done. So, if there are any grammar or spelling errors, don't be afraid to tell me! I'll gladly accept the critique :)

Have a good night!

Sincerely,

Blue