For You Only

Written by Laurellei

Disclaimer: I don't own The Darkest Powers… Sadly…

Author's Note: This is my first Darkest Powers story, so I hope you all enjoy it! After finishing the last book, I couldn't keep myself from writing something Chloe/Derek related. They are just too awesome, and their awesomeness inspired me to write this.

Anyway, enjoy everyone!

Chloe Saunders would never trade her life, not for a normal life, not even for a second. She would never live the life of an ordinary seventeen year old girl, and yet she did not mind. If she did, she would not have experienced such an exhilarating journey from here on, she would not have met her extraordinary friends, and she definitely would not have met Derek (quite frankly, this part mattered most to her – topping everything else with such supremacy). The sometimes ill-mannered boy she had met at Lyle House two years ago had become her world, burning his very presence in her veins. The odd sensation had become so familiar to Chloe; she couldn't even bring herself to remember a time when it lay inexistent. Shaking the feeling away would be the weirdest thing ever and Chloe refused to do such a thing. She wanted the fire to last forever. She wanted his fiery print to remain. Her love for the boy was endless, and it had been like that from the very beginning, even if she had not realized it at first.

She needed him like a flower needed sunlight. Without him, her entire world would darken, consume her, and fill her head with constant images of death she would not have the strength to ignore. Although death was a part of her, although she was a necromancer, and although she accepted it, the reoccurring nightmares always bothered her. They scared her and would not die away without the boy's help, as he was always there to chase the disturbing images away. His large embrace would always save her from the terror and remind her to quit worrying. As long as he was there to wake her from the fright, she was safe, protected. He was her safe haven.

"Thank you," Chloe would often shakily whisper after waking from another of her many nightmares. She would always feel his large hand softly resting itself on her shoulder blade before she would turn herself completely around and nestle in his reassuring arms, allowing him to chase away all the fear and shock she had previously experienced, only to find herself falling fast asleep again whenever he resumed to gently rock her body back and forth, like a mother soothingly rocking her new born baby.

"You don't have to thank me," his deep voice would acknowledge at her ear, and when she would slightly rouse, she could feel his lips move against her neck as he mouthed the words with poise, sending a delicate shiver to run up her spine, painting her slender arms with Goosebumps.

"I know," Chloe would admit in a sleepy sigh, "but I want to…"

Like the many previous nights, Chloe found herself yet again subconsciously absorbed in an uncanny dream, unable to wake from the chaos without Derek's much needed help.

The dream was rather similar to last night's, only a few things were off this time. In the dream Chloe found herself walking somewhere around the motel, if not in a room, following a trail of thick blood up to the room where she and Derek were currently inhabiting. She would always muster a scream until the very end of the dream – until she would land eyes on an image that would forever find shelter in a part of her brain, having no intention of leaving anytime soon.

"No," Chloe choked desperately while making her way up the noisy steel staircase on the side of the motel, following the trail of someone's blood all the way up to the top floor. Her legs wobbled uncontrollably, but she forced herself to continue running, even skipping large steps just to reach the highest landing. Her heart would beat so hard against her chest that it almost hurt, but Chloe had to dismiss the feeling, the fear, and the paranoia. She was a necromancer and she had to proceed with confidence no matter how anxious she was. The fear would have to pass. It had been two years since she found out about her supernatural power, so she had to suck it up and get a grip on her nerves already. Still, no matter how hard she tried to calm herself (breathing slowly and deeply had no affect whatsoever), her heart hardly settled its tantrum.

Finally, when Chloe had managed to reach a part of her destination, she stepped foot on the metal floor and proceeded to uneasily follow the trail of blood. The smell of fresh blood and torn flesh seeped into her nostrils and she rubbed her nose frantically, irritating her skin till it turned pink.

"I don't want to do this," Chloe choked again, feeling a lump form in her throat as the sickening scent got worse. For several agonizing seconds, Chloe made her way towards a grey coloured door at the end of the hall. The smell became almost unbearable and she clutched tightly onto her stomach to keep from throwing up last night's dinner. "Please don't make me do this," she whispered to no-one in particular, but she really had wished someone-one would stop her. "I don't…" Chloe sighed, not finishing the sentence. She had to stop whining. She had to do it.

Her long fingers enclosed around the doorknob which was surprisingly warm against her palm. Hesitant at first, Chloe finally built up some courage to turn the round knob under her grasp and push open the heavyset door. A slight creak emitted and echoed in the motel room. Chloe's eyes initially landed on the floor where the trail of blood proceeded from the main door and led all the way to the bathroom door. The carpet below her feet was drastically soaked in the stinky cerise substance, and Chloe desperately fought the effects of gravity to keep her food down. The last thing she needed was to smell blood, rotting flesh, and vomit.

"Hello?" When Chloe could manage to find her voice, she called even louder into the room, "hello? Is anyone there?" Although the chances of someone replying were slim to none, Chloe still tried to communicate with anyone – dead or alive. When no response made its way back at her, Chloe slowly crept towards the bathroom door, already knowing that whatever had spilled all this blood was waiting for her on the other side – behind the very door she was reaching to open. Whatever it was that Chloe was to unearth, she obviously did not know, and when her blue eyes landed on the dismantled body wrapped sloppily in a large plastic see-through garbage bag residing in the bath tub, Chloe wished she would have never known who it was that she was supposed to encounter in that motel room.

That night Chloe shot out of bed screaming so loud that her throat burned even when she'd quieted down. Her eyes were full of tears and a wet streak ran down her left cheek. The door to her right opened so quickly, Chloe could have sworn she didn't even hear it unlatch. A light from inside the room hit her face so hard that all she could see was a dark large figure sprinting towards her. Events from the dream swirled in her brain. Within less than a second, Chloe remembered the blood, the smell of a rotting carcass, and the dismantled body in the bathtub that her stomach sank and she shrieked once more from the shock.

"Chloe!" Hands pressed so deeply against her shoulders the mattress shook. Chloe knew the voice; she could recognize it anywhere, even if thousands of other voices overlapped it. The rough exaggerated tone rang in her ears and calmed her raving heart.

"Derek…" She could barely whisper. She was out of breath and her throat hurt. Derek's hands stayed right where he had placed them seconds ago. They were burning against her shoulders.

"Are you alright?"

Chloe didn't know whether to open her mouth and respond, to ignore the blazing sensation irritating her esophagus, or to not say anything at all. Instead, she pressed herself so heavily against Derek's chest and wrapped her arms around his neck, he faintly stumbled back.

"What happened?" His voice was grave, full of distress. He didn't know what else to do than to embrace her body in return and rub her back. He could feel her heart beating as her chest pressed into him more. The feeling was unnerving and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. What could it have been that scared the girl so terribly? That drove her into such panic? Derek had experienced waking up to her jolting out of bed many times before, but she had relaxed so quickly, she could easily reply when he asked her if she was okay. This time it was different. He had never felt her hot tears soak his skin from any nightmare – ever.

"Chloe," he said her name sharply yet again, "are you okay?"

She sniffed at his ear and backed away slowly. Her now tear stained blue eyes were watching the bathroom door so intently, another tear rolled down her cheek. Derek reached to wipe it away, but she beat him to it with a trembling hand. His eyes bore into her face carefully.

"S-sorry," she managed her voice all hoarse, "it was the dream…"

"Well, yeah," Derek replied perceptibly. "I knew that."

She shot him a look and he cleared his throat realizing he had just sounded like a complete jack ass.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly and sighed. "I'm just worried. I want to know what happened. Tell me everything."

Chloe looked up at him. He had recollected his posture and was now standing rather than kneeling down like before when she had hugged him. Above her he looked more massive than he already was. He had grown at least an inch taller since he'd found out about his nature at sixteen. Derek was now eighteen and finally looked his age. Chloe couldn't really say whether she had changed drastically in the last two years since she found out about her nature. She'd developed some evident curves and gained about six pounds, but that was it. The weight gain was barely even noticeable. Once when she had told Derek about it, he laughed and poked her small stomach jokingly. Since then, she kept her mouth shut about it.

Now, as Chloe felt Derek's eyes on her, she breathed deeply to calm herself and then patted the empty space beside her on the bed. Derek joined her and sat down quietly on the mattress. They sat in silence for quite some time, wordless. Derek gazed at the floor flexing his toes on the cheap motel carpet while Chloe gazed perplexedly in the bathroom, imagining blood all over the tiled floor. Remembering her dream sent a cold chill up her arm and Chloe shivered in disgust. She was certain Derek felt the rising bumps on her arm graze his arm, but she never bothered to check if he noticed.

Derek had forgotten to turn off the bathroom light when he ran out, and now it was the only thing that illuminated the motel room, brightening the room weakly with its dull bulb. Besides that, the room was dark. It was two in the morning.

"Why were you in the bathroom?" Chloe was sure she regained full confidence in her voice now, though the question still came out rather gentle. It didn't really matter why he was in there, Chloe just wanted to break the silent barrier that had fallen between them. The silence only allowed her to mind to dwell and at this point, all it would dwell on was the nightmare, something Chloe didn't want to think about.

"Huh?" Derek ripped his gaze away from the floor and turned to face her. The bathroom light illuminated half of her face and Derek studied her for a moment. He caught sight of her dry lips, the creases along her forehead (from the strained look on her face), and the curve of her nose which he loved to touch with his lips. The black dye from her hair faded last year and now she sported a caramel-coloured do, although the ends of her hair shone blonde when exposed to light. Her hair had also grown past her shoulders - they never found the time to cut it, as they were always on the run ever since they escaped captivity and killed Dr. Davidoff.

"Why were you in the bathroom?" Chloe asked again. Now it was her turn to face him.

"Oh," he sighed, "fever."

Chloe forced her eyebrows together in concern. "Are you Changing?" She watched him shrug his wide-set shoulders.

"I doubt I'm Changing tonight. Maybe tomorrow night." Derek smiled weakly.

Catching sight of his smile made Chloe's stomach flex in a weird way, but the feeling was painless. It felt funny, and that was all. She extended a hand and ran her fingers along his jaw line. Small hairs grazed her fingertips and she rubbed the area hinting that it was time for him to shave his scruff. Derek rolled his eyes as if he were telling her he had shaved just two days ago. He grabbed her small hand, but she escaped his grasp and placed the back of her palm on his forehead feeling heat emit from it.

"Yeah you do have a fever," she stated and further added, "do you want me to go and fetch some pills from Aunt Lauren?"

Derek shook his head. "No."

"Are you sure?" If he had a headache, Chloe would prefer for him to admit it.

"I'm alright," Derek insisted and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "It's nothing," he assured her and pulled away. To be honest, he doubted medication would even have an affect on his transformation now. The wolf in him was growing stronger and stronger each year, maybe even too powerful for anything to help nourish it. There really was no point. Besides, he wasn't transforming tonight, he was sure of it.

Derek frowned and dismissed his thoughts. "Chloe…"

"Hmmm?" Up until now, Chloe had been pulling on her t-shirt which was rather tight around her body. She thought that pulling on it would help loosen it. Apparently not.

"What happened in your dream?"

Chloe winced. Should she tell him? Every other time she'd told him about her dreams, he'd shoot her a tense look, get all protective, and sometimes he'd even wake up the others to migrate somewhere else, somewhere far where the chances of her having another residual haunting dream would be unlikely. "P-promise you won't freak?"

"What?"

"Promise me," she began nervously, "that you won't freak out if I tell you."

The grim look on his face didn't change, not even when he said "I promise."

Chloe told him. She told him everything - from the very beginning when she'd found herself outside of the motel to the moment when she opened the bathroom door, which was becoming so familiar to her it made her feel sick. And Derek listened intently, glaring in the direction of the bath tub every now and then.

When it was all over, Chloe pulled her knees up to her chest and embraced herself. A sudden coldness engulfed her and she gripped the thin sheets on the bed.

At first, Derek was quiet. He was contemplating the entire scenario, replaying it in his mind. "Do you think it's a ghost?" He asked carefully.

"I think it's just residual energy, not a ghost." She felt the mattress rise under her touch. Derek got up and walked over to the bathroom door. He stopped and leaned against the door frame.

"So you're saying," he began, his voice forceful, "that someone was murdered in there?" He pointed a finger towards the tub.

"Guess so," she whispered. "I'm just so sensitive, it got to me. That's why I saw it."

"Wow that sucks." Chloe watched him cover his face with his hands. He ran a hand through his messy hair. "Must have been painful," he suggested.

Chloe gently nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. Her sight blurred as her eyes began to water. Derek, who had noticed the moisture fill her blue eyes reached in the room and flipped the light switch off, never taking his eyes off her. Then he closed the door, shut it with such distaste and vain. He wanted the room's history to have nothing to do with her. He wanted to close the door and prevent anything from trying to get at her, to end this horrible chapter in her life and reassure her that she was finally safe.

The minute she heard the door shut, the latch lock, Chloe looked up to see Derek retreating. He walked right up to her, placed a knee on the bed and pulled her close to him in an embrace. That moment, that very moment in his arms, Chloe felt safe, like every other time when he would hold onto her tightly to keep the devastating nightmares from hurting her some more.

"Thank you," she whispered through tears.

"You don't have to thank me," he reassured.

"I know… But I want to."