Sometimes, Jared wondered if it wasn't all just another game. The kind of game he and Mel had played with Jamie when he was younger, when everything was so much less complicated; the kind where they would pretend to be different people. Completely different people.

Living a lie.

He sighed, looking at the empty space where the sleeping form of his lover usually lay, beside him; it hadn't always been this way. There was a time, before Mel had been found, when they were utterly content with each others company. They didn't need to fill every silence with mindless chatter, so that it wouldn't be awkward. They didn't have arguments over petty things, stupid things. They didn't want to be away from each other for hours, even days, at a time. They didn't need to sleep in separate bedrooms because of one silly, stupid argument…

But I was a fool, then, Jared realized, running a hand through his hair. Fool enough to let her convince herself she loved me. Fool enough to convince myself, too.

Looking back, Jared had to admit that their bond- the 'love' which he had fought for for so long- had been forged out of sheer desperation. The last man on earth and the last woman on earth (or so they'd thought, anyway). They'd felt… obligated to be together. Without realizing it, they'd forced their tiny blossom of friendship to grow into the likes of which it could never bloom:

Love.

Of course, he loved her, and she loved him: but it wasn't in the same way they used to. Now that most of the danger has passed, not that they were safe, they felt no obligation… merely habit, and fear of losing their closest companions. They used to long to be near to each other, to touch…

Where did those feelings go?

Sometimes, Melanie wondered if it was all really meant to be. Late at night, when she was supposedly sleeping, she would lie awake and wonder what life would be like if she bore no faint scar upon her neck.

Would Jared be a part of it?

She could never bring herself to dwell on that question. It scared her, like every note of finality in their relationship did: it scared her to think of the way Jared looked at her, now, with a carefully blank expression that he never had before; it scared her to remember the look in Jared's eyes when they kissed, a dead, almost thoughtless gaze; it pained her to admit that Jared had looked so much more… alive when he had kissed Wanda, inside her body; it terrified her to imagine how Jared's face lit up every time he and Wanda saw each other…

And yet, when now might be the best moment to bow out of their dilapidating relationship, retaining what dignity she had left, she couldn't bring herself to do it…

Why prolong the moment?

She pulled her blankets more tightly around her, shivering in the depths of her despair. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, but she did not wipe them away. Once again, she cursed Wanda and all she represented, but the hatred was weak now. Wanda was her friend. Her only friend…

Our faces were only inches apart. He closed the distance, and even here, on the edge of my last breath on the planet, I couldn't help responding. Gasoline, and an open flame- we exploded again.

It wasn't the same, though. I could feel that. This was for me. It was my name that he gasped when he held my body- and he thought of it as my body, thought of it as me. I could feel the difference. For one moment, it was just us, just Wanderer and Jared, both of us burning.

I woke, drenched in sweat and with an extraordinary- for my kind, anyway- feeling of self loathing. I sickened myself.

I did not deserve to be here, lying next to Ian whilst I dreamt of Jared. I did not deserve Mel, whose friendship and companionship I prized above all others and who would never, ever think to question my loyalty, even now…

I'd expected it all to go away.

I tucked my knees up against my chest, cradling myself, and let the tears fall freely. It seemed stupid, now, to have expected that everything could change so easily. It was so… so cliché. I almost smiled at the term: I grew more human every minute that I lived with amongst them. Even the lies came more freely now: I think I had even fooled Ian with my half hearted assurances that everything was ok. I even felt myself- guided by Mel and Jamie and Ian- beginning to recognize the emotions that this human body was subjected to. Not understand, but recognize and deal with. Just about. So much had changed…

Why hadn't this?

I loved Ian, of course- but never in the same way. The love I felt for the man that was constantly at my side was… well, I could compare it to my love for Jamie. Nothing like the love that I felt for Jared. But was that even my love? Or was it something left over from Mel's half-reign over my mind? I didn't know. I couldn't tell… I was so confused!

Lost in my thoughts as I was, I didn't notice that someone- a sniffling someone- was pawing their way down the darkened corridor outside of mine and Ian's room. I sat bolt upright as the unknown person stopped in my door, a silhouette in the half-darkness of my candle lit room. The person was of small build- a child.

"Wanda?"

I relaxed immediately; it was Jamie. I held my arms open, searching for him as he stepped inside. When he was close enough for me to touch, I pulled him into my waiting arms. He made no resistance. He sobbed against my shoulder as I stroked his soft hair, cherishing our mother-and-child bond that grew stronger every day. "What's the matter, baby?" I murmured. Being called 'baby' might have insulted Jamie if it came from the mouth of another, but he made no protest. "That dream again?"

Jamie nodded. He turned his face towards me, and I noted the glistening tears that shone in the darkness from his cheek. "Don't tell Mel," he whispered. I sighed.

"You know, she wouldn't mind if you told her," I said, trying to convince him yet again that his sister- and mine, in so many ways- would not be upset if he were to tell her about his all too frequent dream of Melanie following him through the dark passages of the caves where we lived, her eyes silver and the Seeker's cruel smile on her pretty face… Jamie just shook his head violently, as he did every night, and started to cry again, burying his head in my shoulder so as not to wake Ian- who was already awake, of course, trying to let Jamie retain his dignity. I gave up and clutched him to me.

"Sleep now, my Jamie."

AN: Well, I hope you liked it! I actually stayed up til five in the morning to finish reading 'Host'. But I was a little disappointed by the cheese in the end. Much like Breaking Dawn. I guess SM loves a cliché… ;) (Don' we all?)

LoveMuchly,

Arya x