This hurt so much to write but it was screaming at me to be done.

Even though everything was moving so fast in reality, through Eli's eyes, it was like a dream.

Fitz's hand was coming at him like a bullet, yet Eli saw every small detail; the glint of blue and red police lights on the blade, the arrogant smirk that plastered itself upon Fitz's face, and the movement of something - someone - beside him. He could hear the pounding of his own heart as Clare suddenly appeared in front of him, her arms stretched out on either side to create a wall between the hungry knife and his own body. With the most sickening sound he ever heard, the knife took the wrong victim.

Clare fell backwards against him, her arms flying to the place where the knife entered her body. She didn't make a noise; all Eli heard was a quiet, small gasp. One of shock, surprise, and pain. He held her there in his arms, and the sound of his heartbeat became louder and louder. Every part of him began to tremble, and looking up at Fitz with disbelief seemed to take so much energy. The other boy's face was absent of the dirty smirk it had held only moment before. Now it was twisted into an expression of astonishment and guilt. Fitz took two steps backwards, his eyes on Clare's limp body, before whipping around to sprint down the hall.

Eli sunk slowly to the ground, bringing Clare with him. His hands were wrapped around her waist, holding her as close to him as he could. Her breathing was shallow and ragged; each inhale hurt Eli just as much as it hurt Clare herself. He could feel her blood dripping from her stomach down to his fingers. It was hot and sticky, and the smell made him sick. He buried his face in her soft red hair, and it took all he had to keep from breaking into sobs.

"Clare," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Clare, please…"

As carefully as he could, he laid her across his lap, so that her head was cradled in his arms. Her face was as white as a sheet, her eyes flickering between open and closed. Silent tears were rolling down her cheeks, and at that moment, Eli swore his heart ripped in two. She still had her hands at her stomach, where the small switchblade was protruding like a nasty thorn. There was a fire behind Eli's eyes as he looked at her like this. Clare. His sweet, innocent, beautiful Clare.

He brought a hand up to brush a curl away from her face, letting it linger on her clammy cheek.

"Look at me, Clare," he told her quietly, leaning down to press his lips against her forehead. "Don't close your eyes, please." He wiped away new tears that were forming at her eyes, which were beginning to open. He stared into those blue depths and it felt as if someone had punched him in the chest. Soon, he was crying, tears escaping from his eyes, falling to mix with the blood on Clare's dress. His shoulders shook as he wept, and he'd never felt so vulnerable in his life.

Eli's sobs stopped abruptly as Clare slowly lifted a blood-covered hand to his face, sliding a finger under his eye to catch a falling tear. "Eli," she whispered, her lips barely moving. He took her hand as it began to slip back down and pressed it against his cheek, like it was the only thing he could do to save her.

"Don't leave me, Clare," he murmured, squeezing her hand tight. "You can't leave me, not now."

Clare opened her mouth to speak, but not a sound escaped her lips. She only looked up at him, her gaze soft like it always was.

He didn't know how many times he said her name. Not once did he break his gaze away from hers, holding her hand tight against his cheek, pressing his lips to it again and again. His heart still pounded like a drum, hard and heavy against his ribcage. He barely noticed when two police officers rounded the corner.

One of them spoke urgently into his radio, and the other knelt down beside Eli, bringing a hand to his shoulder. He flinched at her touch, yet still refused to take his eyes away from Clare's face.

"Come on, son," she said quietly, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "She needs help." The officer looked over her shoulder at her companion and said something about an ambulance.

At the words, Eli's arms tightened around Clare, more tears falling from his eyes. "Don't take her away from me," he replied, his voice strangled and tense. "Please."

Suddenly, Clare's voice was floating towards him, making his heart skip a beat.

"Eli."

He met her blue eyes and his stomach lurched.

"I love you, Eli."

Without thinking, he leaned down and kissed her, long and careful. She didn't kiss him back, but he didn't expect her to. All he wanted was to feel her lips against his, the lips that had just told him that she loved him. Pulling back, Eli let out a ragged sigh.

"God, Clare," he whispered. "I love you."

More people were suddenly in the hall; medics with a stretcher, more police officers, Mr. Simpson, and even Adam, who attempted to rush towards his friends, but Simpson caught him quickly by the arm and pulled him back.

The medics moved forward and laid the stretcher carefully on the ground in front of Eli, who looked up. One of the medics met his gaze sympathetically, and he slowly brought his arms away from Clare's body so that she could be placed on the stretcher. The last thing Eli released was Clare's bloody hand, and the abrupt absence of it in his made more tears sting his eyes.

At last, Simpson let Adam go. The smaller boy came to stop before Eli, holding out a hand to help his friend to his feet. Eli merely leaned back against the blue metal locker, taking a deep breath.

"I thought you were dead, man," Adam said, slipping the beanie off his head and running a hand through his brown hair. "I thought you both were."

Eli didn't respond, but watched as the medics rolled Clare down the hall and disappeared out of the closest door. Adam followed Eli gaze and brought a hand to the dark-haired boy's shoulder.

The two stood there motionless, tuning out the rushing world around them.

Was the ending too abrupt? I didn't want to make it a happy ending. ^_^ UGH THIS TURNED OUT THE WRONG WAY I THINK. Oh well.