Sadie finds herself still alive, despite all she's done. Confused as to why this is, she enlists Rawlins in a mission to discover the truth. This mission brings back an old friend- Arturo. But is he really a friend, or was Eve right- is Sadie just a pawn? Some SadieRawlins in later chapters. Review please!

She didn't get it.

She just didn't get it.

Sadie distinctly remembered Rawlins stabbing her with her own stake, right in the center of her chest. She remembered the look of remorse on his face as she slid into blackness. She remembered feeling the liquid life ooze from her wound as she died.

Then why in hell's name was she still living?!

With a groan of pain and frustration, she sat up off of the small metal plank of her autopsy bed and placed her feet on the cold floor. She glanced around and sighed. This was the same autopsy room she woke up in the first time she died. It was just as she remembered. Sterile, cold, white. It was empty, thank the gods. She couldn't imagine how her sudden reanimation would go over with the employees here. The image brought a small smile to her lips. The cold of the metal bit into her bare skin, making her shiver. She stood up, ignoring the ache of protest her joints gave. After rigor mortis set in, it was hard to get one's body to cooperate fully again.

Even though Sadie knew it was useless, she wandered over to the wall mounted mirror and looked into it, praying to see her reflection. But, of course, she saw nothing. A quick run of her hands down her face and neck told her tat nothing was out of the ordinary, though her hair had grown out a bit. Her fingers lingered on the deep gash on the side of her neck; the only physical remnant of that fateful night with Bishop and Eve. Not wanting to dwell on the painful memory, she turned from the mirror and walked further into the room.

Another chill ran through her. Sadie glanced around, looking for something to cover up her prone form. A set of clean scrubs lay on a large chrome counter permanently stained crimson with blood. She grabbed them and slipped them on, not very pleased at how routine this all seemed to her now. By instinct, she reached up to her neck to adjust the bladed necklace Eve gave her that on first night of vengeance. It was gone. She cursed. This day was not going well for her.

Sighing, she made her way to the only door in the room and peeked out. The halls were deserted. She bit back a little victorious smile and slipped out of the room.

As she traveled the halls, she thought back to what she could remember. Going by what Arturo had told her, she had done everything right. She made peace with herself by killing that bastard Bishop. She made sure that she accomplished what her soul desired most. Then why?

"Why me?" she asked the silence. "Why can't I die?!"

The fresh night air flowed like nectar into her lungs. She paused, taking deep breaths of the precious smell. Night was her realm; ever since the Change she couldn't go outside during the day without developing skull crushing migraines and her eyes feeling like they were about to incinerate right out of their sockets.

The soothing air helped calm her jumbled nerves, but not nearly enough as she'd liked. But, her personality since the Change didn't let her sit around and wait for answers or solutions to come to her. She liked to get up and beat the answer out of whatever or whoever was in her way. This being so, the first thing her mind came up with was, "Who could have interfered with my death?" As she strolled, she counted off a list of suspects.

"Well, Bishop could've still been alive, though that's not very likely. The same goes with Trisha. The cops could have done something to screw me over…" She stopped abruptly with a gasp, startling a nearby pigeon into flight. "Cops…Rawlins!" He was a logical choice- after all, he did kill her. Perhaps he messed something up in the process. But where the hell would she find him?

The bar was still as run down and seedy as she remembered. The neon light proclaiming "Bob and Tom's" glowed pathetically from the forefront of the small building. She shook her head softly and stepped through the door.

"Welcome to Bob and- Oh shit!" The bartender jumped back and stared at her, scared.

"Hello again." She approached the bar and sat on a stool, fixing the familiar man with an amused gaze.

"It's you, isn't it? Eve?" She recognized the fake name she had given him the night she came in looking for Bishop. "I-I thought that had cop killed you!"

"You know what they say about assuming." She hummed in a sarcastic tone. "Actually, he's the reason I'm here. He didn't happen to give you any information about himself that night did he? A card, a phone number?"

"Yeah. He gave me a call back number in case you didn't show. One sec, I'll get it for you." He walked out from behind the bar and disappeared behind a beaded doorway with a sign tacked beside it reading "Employees Only". He came back a few seconds later with a small white business card in his hand."He's actually been kinda useful when I need a few rowdy drunks thrown out."

She gave him a questioning look. "What? He said he didn't mind doing it. It helps his quota, it helps keep me in good business. Win win situation." She rolled her eyes and snatched the card from him. On it was his name, Detective Clyde Rawlins, along with his number and address. She held out a hand towards the bartender.

"Pen."

He fumbled behind the bar until he found one and handed it to her. She scribbled the address down on her hand.

"…Why are you wearing scrubs?" he asked, examining her strange outfit. She shot him a wary glance.

"You don't want to know."

There, the first chapter for the story that's been nagging on my mind for weeks. I finally got it down. I know it's not a spectacular first chapter, but oh well. Review please!