Hi guys!! This is my first fanfic EVER! I've tried to make it as realistic as possible, as in everyone's character personality stays the same. Like, I know some people have fanfiction's where Derek has an epiphany and magically realises he's in love with Chloe, and for Chlerek fans, it's awesome... but not necessarily realistic.

But yeah, this is how I would have started the Reckoning if it were mine. I know Kelley Armstrong (the REAL author T_T ) has been releasing new chapters every two weeks, and people already know the official beginning, but anyway, this is my altered version: I See Dead People. (Yeah, may have to change the name... lol)

Oh, and please, pleeeeeease review. Especially when it comes to grammatical errors and stuff like that. New ideas would be appreciated too. =)

So here it is.

THE RECKONING: I See Dead People.

CHAPTER ONE.

Disclaimer: As much as I hate to admit it, these characters are not mine. They belong to Kelley Armstrong, who created the whole series. (But if Derek is real, I'm so totally claiming him. 3 )

Chloe POV.

Right. So we've been at this 'supernatural safe house' for a day and a half. The first day when we arrived with Andrew, we were all so bushed that we crashed into unconsciousness as soon as we hit something even mildly cushioned. I guess after sleeping on cardboard boxes and God knows what else, we begin appreciating the little things in life. Like, say, a shower. Those first couple of days after our second escapade, we were all itching for a shower. Derek, literally. He's still the 'superman' of us supernatural's, and him being the werewolf with the super hearing, smell and sight means he's the one trying to watch out for everyone in the group. And when I say 'group', his definition includes Simon; his brother and best friend, and little old me. In other words, not Tori Enright. It's as though Derek has got some type of vendetta against her. But I guess when I first met him, I thought he had one against me too.

I know we've all had our disagreements with him, but I'm kind of beginning to understand Derek now. He's a complicated guy, but alright once you get past the gruffness and hostile barrier. He's incredibly selfless, he always puts others before himself. Some would even call it sweet. But then that may be pushing it. He is Derek after all. I mean, he'd probably freak if he found out that the word 'sweet' was combined in the same sentence as his name...unless it was a conversation about food, that is.

But like I was saying, our first day at the safe house was of rest. Well as much as I could anyway. I still have this feeling that when I go to sleep I'm going to raise the dead. Like, I know the house we're in now has been deemed death-free. Derek checked it himself. But as in the past, I don't know how far my necromancer skills can reach. Even when I'm asleep I raise the dead. Sure, the place is body free, but it ain't going to stop me from creating an un-dead cockroach or something. The fact is I'm still having trouble harnessing my skills. And I still have to get those self-defence lessons from someone. Be it Simon, or Derek. I'm sure even Tori, as girly as she is could teach me something. But I think one of the guy's is the safest bet.

"Hey, Chloe?" The familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I reply automatically, pausing from ironing. I volunteered to do ironing duty because One: If I don't do something sooner or later, I'm going to go stir crazy, and Two: Well, everyone else had sort of taken dibs on the other chores.

"Can you come here for a second?" Simon's voice called from the kitchen. "I...er... need your opinion on something."

I turned the iron off and walked towards him, stopping in my tracks when I saw the great mess.

"Whoa." I gasped. There were a million pots and pans of different shapes and sizes scattered around the benches. And, believe it or not, every single one of them was filled, or stained with something. It was a typical scene from a typical romantic comedy movie. You know, the girlfriend walks in on the guy who's trying to make it up to her 'cause they had a stupid disagreement or something, and then in the end, he winds up in more trouble to begin with because of the mess he made. My heart rate sped up by just thinking about Simon and me, and the movie boyfriend/girlfriend parallel.

Simon looked around then scratched his neck, embarrassed. "Yeah, it's pretty bad, huh."

"I'll say." I replied. "What the heck are you trying to do? Attempt the world's top 100 recipes all at the same time?"

He laughed. "Not quite." He grabbed some girly floral mitts and walked over to the oven. "I want you to try this." He opened the door slowly, letting the heat escape, and grabbed the baking tray out and placed it beside the oven.

It was a pudding of some sort. It looked like custard on the top, but I doubt it was, seeing as it just came out from an oven. But it did look good, whatever it was.

"Wow. It looks great." I walked over beside him, smelling the vanilla essence that rolled off of the dish. "But what is it?"

He turned to me. "You know what, I actually don't know."

"You mean, you just created it off the top of your head now? 'Cause that takes a lot of talent."

"What? No. I mean, I know I'm good, but I'm not that good." He boasted. "Na. I just saw this thing on TV a while back. It looked mouth-watering. So I thought I'd try it, seeing as how well this place is stocked up."

Loud footsteps entered the room, followed by a curse. "What the hell is all this?"

"It's food, Derek." Simon replies curtly.

"Pffft. Barely."

"Well, I think they were his trial runs." I interrupted, pointing to the mountain of pots on the bench closest to Derek. "And these," I pointed in the opposite direction, "were his actual ingredient mixing for that pudding-thing over on the stove."

"So something actually survived?" he glanced around the kitchen again. "Jeez," he said after a while. "Who's cleaning this up?"

Simon looked at me nervously. "Chloe, do you think you could help me a bit afterwards? You'd only have to do a few."

Derek grunted. "Chloe doesn't have to do a thing." He turned to me, "you can go. I'll help him."

"Oh. But I don't mind – "

"He's not your responsibility." He cut me off.

"But Simon isn't yours either." I retorted. "Like, I know you're brothers and all..."

"Hey, chill you two." Simon stepped between us. "Plenty of the Simon to go around."

"Too much even." I heard Derek mumble. I stifled a laugh.

"Seriously though, I definitely need some help." Simon said, as he opened a drawer, got out a knife and some plates and scooped us a piece of his special dessert. "Whoever helps me can have a double serving."

"I'll help, but I don't think I'll want another piece." I mumbled with food in my mouth, chewing slowly. I noticed Derek was doing the same, his mouth and nose twisting with distaste.

Simon noticed and yelled. "What! What's wrong with it?!"

"Er..." I tried to think of an easy way to tell him that it tasted awful.

Thankfully Derek cut in and saved me. "What's wrong with it?" he repeated. "There's nothing right about it. It tastes like crap."

Or, maybe not.

Simon looked to me for reassurance about his desert's taste.

"Um. It taste's fine to me, Simon." I swallowed hard, getting rid of the chunk in my mouth. I couldn't help but look down at the rest of the piece in my plate. "It's just a bit... chewy... that's all."

"See! Chloe likes it." Simon smiled at me.

"Simon," Derek began seriously. "In case you haven't noticed, even if your food tasted like crap, which it does, she'd say it was delicious."

"What? No I wouldn't." I said defensively, but not looking him in the eye. We both know he's right. But hopefully Simon wouldn't catch on. It seems as though Derek and I were sharing a lot of 'private things' lately. I guess watching, and not bawking, at his partial transformation into a werewolf has earned me a bit of his trust.

Simon sighed. "Yeah, Chloe, you would. You'd be the type of person that would lie to protect me from myself."

"But - "

A small smile touched his lips. When he caught me staring I turned and blushed.

"So was it bad?" he asked. Before Derek could state his opinion Simon added "I don't want to know the wolf's answer either. I already know what he'll say." Simon turned to me. "So?"

"Yeah." I admitted, placing my dish on a bench. "It was kinda bad. But it smelt good though!"

Derek snorted. "Of course. Even in the world's worst cooking attempt, Chloe can see the microscopic little bit of goodness that came out of it."

"Yeah, you'd know about microscopes wouldn't you Derek." Simon joked, referring to his brother's nerdy past. Derek turned, and I swear I saw his face go red. But I couldn't be sure.

"Well, if you guys insist you don't need my help, I'll go then." Derek started walking away.

"Wait..." I began, but I felt Simon's hand wrap around mine, cutting off all coherent sentences.

"Let him go." His voice whispered in my ear, tickling my neck.

But knowing Derek and his super-hearing, he would've heard it. Which means he definitely won't come back.

I'd say I was mad at Simon, but then I'd be lying. Those who know me realise that I don't ever get fully angry at a person. But at the moment Simon's possessiveness was kind of beginning to annoy me. Not for the intimate stuff like the hand holding and everything - I have no objections to that when we're alone. But the way that he just expects Derek to leave, it's not fair.

I heard Derek's footsteps retreating up the stairs. "So..." I tried to edge myself away from Simon's upper body and face. "Should we start cleaning up?"

"Yeah. In a minute?" he tried leading me into the lounge room, but I stood my ground.

"I think we should get started now. If Andrew see's this, he's going to freak."

"Right." He nodded.

After we cleaned up the plates, wiped the benches, and finished our whipping-each-other-with-dish-rags fight, we headed off to chill in lounge room.

And to match the house, or should I say creepy mansion, the room was humongous. The left side of the area held a small black and white TV, surrounded by a tatty, but comfortable-looking old couch, and the right side of the room had a white screen hanging up against the wall. Set up around this area was a right-angled red leather couch, which was also old, but looked as though it was in pristine condition.

We met in here briefly last night when Andrew laid down the ground rules of this place. No sliding down stair rails, no leaning over balconies, and no graffiti on the gargoyles, etcetera. But we were half asleep at the time, so as far as I'm concerned, I've never seen this room.

"Hey, check this out." Simon said as he sauntered over to the screen, eyeing off a big black button on the bottom. "What do you reckon this does?"

"I'm not quite sure..." I answered lamely.

"Well, one way to find out." He slammed his index finger against it before I even had a chance to register what he was going to do.

"S-simon!"

We heard an electronic noise above us, and we looked up to see a projector lower itself down from the open ceiling tiles.

"Hmm. Sophisticated." He pondered, picking up a remote control which was also hung up on the wall.

Sophisticated? We're spending time at a mansion that may possibly be haunted, and he pressed the big black button that, in movies, could have caused certain destruction for the characters. Like, say, maybe the floor would give way and send us down a slide leading into an underground vampire crypt. Cliché, I know. But everything in here just has me on edge.

"Chloe, are you alright?" Simon asked nervously.

I rubbed my arms, trying to hide my shaking. "Yeah. I'm just c-cold."

He rubbed his hands up and down my back and led me to the couch. "Here. Take a seat. I'll see if Andrew has the aircon-control around somewhere." He placed the first control he found in my hands. "Fiddle around with this, and see if you can turn the big-screen beast on." He instructed, and took off in search of the temperature remote.

I glanced down at the device in my hand, particularly at the red button on the top. Oh, come on, that's really too obvious. But testing fate, I copied Simon, and pushed the button.

And nothing happened.

"It's got a security lock."

I whirled around to the voice who spoke, only to see a faded grey figure appear beside me.

I gulped. "Are... Are you..."

"Yes? No? Maybe? Possibly? Definitely? Certainly? Unsure?" He paused. "I'm whatever you want me to be."

I leaned forward, glancing at the young boy who perched himself on the edge of the sofa. He can't have been more than 13 years old. "Who, who are you exactly?" I asked.

"I told you. I can be whoever, and whatever you want me to be."

"Not specific enough," I mumbled.

"Chloe? Is that better?" I jumped around when Simon called. "I raised the temperature to 26 degrees."

"Yeah, Simon. It's good now." I lied. I turned back to the boy, but he had gone.

God! If I didn't find the disappearing thing so creepy, I would have been majorly pissed off.

"Chloe? Didn't you say you were cold a minute ago?" Simon asked, staring at my face; making me feel self-conscious.

"Huh. What do you mean?"

"What's with the sweat?" He put his hand against my forehead. "Are you feelin' okay?"

"Ahh... Not really." I admitted in a drawl. I stood up, and shaking off his hand with my sudden movement. "Um, would it be okay if I just go up and rest a while in my room?"

"No, that's okay." He blinked. "Just give me a yell if you need help or something."

I nodded and began leaving.

"Hey, did you have any luck with the remote?" Simon asked quickly when I came to the door.

"Um, nope." I rubbed my head. "I think it needs an access code or something."

"Really? How do you know that?" He spoke with suspicion.

I replied quickly, trying to change the subject. "Er, I-I don't. It's just a hunch. Well, I'll see you later, 'kay?"

"Sure... but - "

I didn't hear a word he said after that, because I bolted to my room.

So what do you think??? Did I have the character's all right? I know I didn't mention Tori much, but I'm going to include her in the next one. I also have some plans for the Chlerek fans (Teehee. It rhymes.) So yeah, please review. :)