AN~ Hey peoples! This isRain here, how're you all? I am super antsy, as to how my story is going to be reviewed, so I am going to write a short story. With all of my characters.. yes it's DP, it would be sacrilege writing for another series! *dry heaves at the thought* Anyways… I love you all so much, and thanks for the support of two people, yet again. Thanks Wink, and Suzi! This story… it's kind of weird timing. I think what I'm trying to do with it.. like Derek accidentally left Chloe behind for Liam and Ramon to get her. I know you're probably like, WTF, that is so not our sexy mister D , well I am being weird.. and it's cute so just.. oh grr!

Disclaimer~ Setting : In my room having a girl talk.

Miller: So yeah… that's why I killed Manning…

Me: That's nice. Let's go kill Stephens! *cheers*

Gabe: Whatcha doin'?

Me, Miller, A.T.: Girl stuff.

Gabe: Well, as much as that sounds so manly, there is a phone call for you. *hands Rain the phone*

Me: Hellew?

Derek: Kelley wants her rights back you stole them when she forgot to lock her safe last night.

Me: Pssh, yeah right!

Chloe: * jumps in window* Yes you did, now give 'em! *takes them and jumps back out the window*

Me: Snapple! *jumps up and down in frustration*

Chloe Saunders POV ( fancy right? ) ~

I walked along the side of the street. I was depressed - as always - glad I wasn't dead, but not happy with much else. I never knew why he ran - I had always imagined him saving me, him beating up Liam and Ramon, those two absolutely weak minded werewolves.

Liam, the blond haired Texan, the leader of the supernatural duet. I internally shuddered at the name, the face, the voice.

Instead I thought of the boy that abandoned me, his emerald orbs, boring into my dull blue ones, so full of life and regret, for something as simple as protecting his brother. Not exactly my cup of tea being raped. Not exactly ideal for the strongest person I knew, to run, sure they were werewolves, sure they were dangerous, yes he was outclassed, but that didn't mean don't try.

That didn't mean leave your friend, to die and be brutally tortured by two psychotic werewolves, who have no idea what the word homicide meant.

I hate them, but the only person I hated more was myself, if I could only be stronger, if I could have been genetically altered in an at least mildly useful way, like being born a werewolf, or being a witch. Hell, if I could just be a shaman, so I could just pretend to run away, astral project so I couldn't feel the pain, be hurt, and tortured as much as they dared, until my spirit, that was wandering, was pure ghost.

I know these thoughts are useless, and potentially idiotic, but if I could have been anything but a stupid necromancer, that could only use her powers when asleep, or summoning, it might have made it better, infinitely so. Just for a minute of at least try to fight, try to break free, but there was no use, I would just get hurt worse.

I made a deal once Derek had gotten away, if I just cooperated, let them do whatever with me, that I could go, run. They agreed, so naturally, I was pretty much raped, without struggle though, I would honestly just injure myself flailing about. They let me go, they even bought me new hair dye, creepy right?

So now about 3 years later, hoping each dark alley way would only carry things that were a lesser threat than the two dunces. I had gotten lucky enough, after three months on the street you learn to fight, and I almost broke a homeless guys neck, when he tried to feel me up. It was necessary, so I did it. I learned to be an emotionless shell, exactly like Derek, showing nothing to outsiders, I only cried when it got the best of me, when I realized that the reason I was so disappointed in both Derek and I, I had fallen for him. I had fallen so hard, for the guy that broke m heart in the three seconds it took for him to decide, that this shit just wasn't worth it, that somebody to help him change was worth a black eye, and a broken nose. A few cracked ribs were worse than feeling alone, and miserable, hurting so bad in the middle of a forest, trying to do something physics, science, and every other thing on Earth prohibited. Changing into a werewolf, it was so much better than having a whiney girl rubbing your back as your face contorted, it was worth growing the muzzle, the hair, your bones cracking, melting because of what felt like lava flowing through our veins, only to harden and reform into a canine marrow.

That's what made me feel the worst, he seemed like he was actually comfortable if I was there, that going through the pain was worth it just to know that he was still there to keep me safe in the end. Guess not.

It hurt so much, I had loved him so fully, that every time I saw green eyes, long black hair, a tall figure, I would turn and hope, hope to see his black bangs hanging in his emerald green eyes, the ones that only showed a bit of emotion, his crooked smile, that looked like it was out of practice but stopped your heart when he found it again.

I tried not to care anymore, but I still flinched at deep voices, someone catching me out of kindness, hoping when I turned, I would see him glowering down at me. If he glowered at you, that was the way he showed he cared, Well it must be because, he had specially formed glares for Tori, but with me and Simon it was just a glower, not exactly the nicest, kindest expression on Earth, unless it was Derek we were talking about.

I turned the corner, mind back on the brown and grey cobblestones, of the sidewalk, worn and discolored. No more reds and blacks for this old street.

I quietly walked into a diner and sat. I wasn't going to eat, but I needed to rest, and in old towns like this, there wasn't a bench in sight. I grabbed a book out of my jacket's front pocket, and began reading. I didn't pay attention, it was some book, Stephen King, maybe it was Orson Scott Card, I wasn't in the mood to look, or care, not that I ever was. One of my old street friends suggested a series, I couldn't remember what it was called, but she had told me it was like my story, scarily exact. I didn't dare, though. It might give me false hope about anything, everything.

One of the waitresses came up and said the tables were for people who ordered. I sighed and got up grabbing my book, stuffing it in my pocket, and headed out the door. I walked a few blocks. This street had so many alleyways. I felt uneasy, not because of the alleys, but because I felt a presence. It was familiar, but I couldn't place it. I turned and looked down an alley only to see a shadowed figure, big too. I ran not caring who it was, but before I could get too many yards away, a hands grabbed my wrist, and covered my mouth pulling me to face them.

Eh? Good.. no? Bad, horrible, wondrous, the best ever, am I too dramatic, just angsty enough? Review! Please! Cookie? Pie?

A hug from Gabe? A hug from me? A hug from God? A hug from a magical pony?