Author's Note:

I'm just another one of those people who wanted Clara to be with Christian. I wrote another one of those changed endings.

After reading the book, the feeling of dislike towards the ending was so strong that I had to write a new one. I did not yet know that such a large group of fan-fiction had already been written. Still, I post this because I wrote it, even if it is unoriginal.

Like others, this has scenes from the actual book in it, with twists. I do not take credit for any words here that Cynthia Hand wrote, nor the characters.

He gets up. He smiles like everything's peachy, but I can feel that this is killing him. Leaving me goes against all his instincts, all that his heart is telling him.

"I meant it, what I said in hell," he says. "You're my glory sword, you know that? My truth."

"Christian-"

He holds up his hand like, Let me finish. "I saw the look on your face when he died. I saw what was in your heart, and it's real. All this time I kept telling myself that it was a crush, and you'd get over it, and then you'd be free to be with me. But it's not a passing phase, or this stubborn refusal to accept what you think is your destiny. You're not going to get over it. I know that. You belong with him now." He swallows. "I was wrong to kiss you that day in the cemetery."

There are tears in my eyes. I wipe at them.

"No," I say. "I can't let you leave."

He's getting frustrated. It's too much for him. "You can't have it both ways, Clara. You can't have us both."

"I know, but-"

"You're a strong girl, Clara. So strong. But you have to learn to let go."

I sigh. I know that. I have to let go of Tucker, for good.

"No," he says, reading my mind. "You have to let go of me. He's your glory. I know that now."

"He's not my glory!" I shout out, surprising myself as well as him.

Christian shakes his head. "Don't tell me that. I saw the way you looked at him."

"No." I'm tearing again, but this time I don't wipe it away. "No. He's my home, but you're my glory."

"What does that even mean?" Christian asks me, and I have to take a moment to think and choose the right words.

"It means I will never forget my time with him, and I will always cherish the memories. I will always love him." I don't even need my empathy to feel his pain. It's clear as day on his face. "But you, you Christian, are my glory. My strength." He's looking at me strangely. "It's because of you that I got us out of hell." I'm not paying attention to anything anymore. I'm just speaking. "I need you to keep going. You make me feel whole. You give me strength." I laugh a bit, at the irony, and at how cheesy this must sound. "It's like Jeffery said, I guess you are my soul mate."

I look up at him, expecting happiness.

He looks down. I know what he's not saying. He feels empty. He thinks it's the angel-purpose stuff, not love. He still thinks it's second choice.

"I have to go."

"Christian, wait!" I run to him, tears in my eyes. I can't lose him. I can't. I didn't feel this way for Tucker. I didn't feel as...empty...and struck as I do now.

I've made my choice.

I look into his eyes; his beautiful, gold-flecked eyes. There's hope in his expression, as he holds me, keeping me from crashing down.

"You," I say, and he smiles.

I love you, he thinks.

Smiling, I pull up his shirt. For a second he looks totally confused, but then I put my hand on the long gash in his side, which still hasn't healed. I clear my head as much as I can, then call the glory to my fingers. And it comes.

He gives a pained gasp as his flesh knits itself back together. When I take my hand away, the cut is completely healed, but there's a long silver scar stretching down his ribs.

"Sorry about the scar," I say.

"Wow," he laughs. "That was just like E.T. Thank you."

As much as I don't want to end this, I have to. "Um...," I say, "I guess I've go to, well, go tell Tucker." He nods his understanding and I leave the room.