A/N: Okay, so who else simply cannot wait until October? That promo has me reading into it far more than I should. Anyway, this story is my take on what could happen immediately following the events of All Falls Down, Part 2. While it is obviously an Eclare fic (yay!), Alli will be heavily featured, as well as Adam. Please review, my writing is rusty and I would like to know what you like and don't like. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi; hell, I don't even live in Canada.

"You won't recognize this place at all." With that rather foreboding statement, Principal Simpson stalked into the school. Their school. So many terrible things had occurred at Degrassi; it didn't seem right. A place of education, a place where rites of passage took place-terrible things such as bullying, nice boys getting thrown through glass doors, and knife threats shouldn't occur.

Clare Edwards stared straight ahead as the police car took Fitz away. "Fitz. Why did he do this? I honestly thought he had a shred of decency somewhere in his soul." She wrapped the jacket Eli had graciously fetched for her out of his locker tighter around her shivering frame. "This is my entire fault. I should have gone to Simpson about this terrible rivalry a long time ago."

"Clare…" a familiar voice shook Clare from her thoughts. She looked at Eli, questioning him with her glassy blue eyes. It was hard for her to believe that it had been only a mere two months since she met Eli; ten short weeks since he had called her eyes pretty. He was the first person to even notice them, let alone compliment her on the change. "May I…walk you home? I'd offer to drive, but Morty seemed to need a rest. His engine growled at me earlier this afternoon."

Clare searched Eli's face for his signature smirk or for his eyes to sparkle the way they seemed (she hoped) to do only for her. She hunted for some trait on the boy's face that would acknowledge that he was still here. Unfortunately, all she could see was Fitz seemingly stabbing Eli over and over again; her mind seemed to be playing a sick CD, and the worst track was stuck on repeat. Suddenly, she needed to assure her mind and body with tangible proof that the boy she had come to care about more than she would admit to anyone but herself was, in fact, safe. Her pale, cold hand took his warm one; the touch made her heart race, but not in the way it would have under different circumstances. It raced with relief.

Eli took Clare's gesture to mean "yes," and they slowly set off for her home. The silence was palpable; Clare had so many things to say but desired to say nothing at all. She wanted to enjoy the white noise of cars driving by and her footsteps; she needed a moment or two to attempt to assemble her thoughts. Eli could think of only one thing to voice-the most honest thing he had to date in his short sixteen years: "I'm sorry".

"What?" Clare asked, confused. She tilted her head to its side and stopped in her tracks, never letting go of her companion's hand.

"I'm sorry," Eli repeated. Clare didn't respond, just lowered her head to her chest in an effort to keep her Eli from seeing her tears. "Clare? Clare, look at me." He tilted her head up by way of her chin with his free hand. "Oh, Edwards, don't cry." Releasing her hand from his, Eli enveloped Clare into a tight embrace. Her body wracking with sobs, Clare struggled to speak.

"I-I should be MAD at you," She sputtered out between cries.

"I know." Eli's voice cracked. "I never…I never wanted you to be involved in any of this, I swear. I never thought things would escalate to this proportion. I was so, so wrong."

"Wow-" Clare hiccupped. "-Elijah Goldsworthy is admitting that he was WRONG. I wish I had the energy to laugh, but frankly…"

"Clare, I mean it. I swore I would NEVER put anyone I cared for in danger again. Not after…" Now his tear ducts were full. Fighting his emotions was something Eli learned to do well. A wave of regret and anguish ran through his body. His jade eyes were no longer dull: a green fire blazed in them. Upset and furious with himself, he fixed his gaze on the lamppost across the street. The temperature seemed to drop, for he was outwardly cold, but the fire that raged in his eyes also raged inside. Of course, water put the fire out in his eyes, for tears could only be kept at bay for so long.

"You didn't let me finish…I should be furious," Clare began. "All logic points to a path where I run far, far away from you…and this…" she motioned between the two of them. Eli looked up from his shoes, alarmed. "…but I can't. All I am able to feel is sheer relief. Slight stupidity for not going to Simpson sooner, sure. Naivety to think I could stop your stupid feud, of course…"

"Clare, I-"

"Eli," Clare cut him off. "You're one of the only people who have ever known me as anything or anyone BUT the 'smart one.' It amazes me, brings a blush to my cheeks, and sometimes royally pisses me off." The two of them smiled. "I don't know what to do, but I can't just let this go…please tell me that this behavior will change, Eli." Her face had never looked more determined. "Please tell me that you will stop acting as a vigilante. Please."

Eli sighed and looked down, unsure of exactly how to respond. "I can't swear that I won't get angry anymore, Clare." Eli released Clare from his embrace and sat on the curb, running a hand through the brown hair matted to his head from the sweat he broke into while facing Fitz and his blade. "But…seeing that knife face me…seeing it face you…when Fitz called you a bitch, I thought he might come for you. I…I didn't think I cared about myself in that moment…but you…" he took a deep breath. Clare joined him on the curb, gently touching his arm. "Dammit, Clare, I thought something was going to happen to you. Because of ME. Again, because of me. If that's what my vendetta against Neanderthals cause, it really is a pointless war, isn't it?"

"Yes. Eli…" Clare wasn't used to being speechless. Instead of speaking, she just took Eli's face into her hands and pressed the chastest of kisses upon his forehead. "Why don't we just…take the next two weeks to think about everything, clear our heads? I'll be with my grandma, and you can…sort through your thoughts and…" she hesitated, "maybe think about seeing a counselor?"

"I don't need a counselor Clare, I'm not crazy," snapped Eli in a voice harsher than he meant for it to be.

"I didn't suggest that you were! I just thought you might want to talk to someone. You know, about Julia, your past, bullying…" Clare again took an interest in her shoes.

"Can I think about it?"

"That's all I can really ask of you, Eli." She stood up. "Finish walking me home?" She offered her hand.

"Yes, m'lady."

The rest of the walk to Clare's townhouse went by quickly. Silence surrounded the two again, with the exception of Clare's comforting white noise.

Reaching her stoop, Eli let go of Clare's hand, then asked: "So…about this two-week thing…can I call you?"

Clare hesitated. She really didn't think she'd be able to sort everything out if she heard Eli's voice; it was one of the many things that drove her up the wall. It also happened to be a contributing factor to his charm-the charm that made her do things she would normally never think of. On the other hand, two weeks without hearing that voice seemed impossible. Cursing her inner teenage sense of hyperbole, Clare offered a compromise: "May I call you instead?"

"Sure." Eli smirked. "There he is!" Clare thought. "That's MY Eli!" She moved to enter her home and attempt to collapse into a deep, much needed sleep.

"Edwards?" Eli spoke gently, his voice barely reaching her as she reached for the knob on the door.

Clare slowly turned around. "Yes, Goldsworthy?"

"This is going to sound incredibly cliché and trite, but would it be alright if I just…kissed you goodnight? Something to get my admittedly pathetic teenage self through the break?" His eyes twinkled.

Clare couldn't help but smile. Despite the terrible events of the night, Eli was still the boy who fell for her and she still the girl who reciprocated his feelings whole heartedly. "I was hoping you would."

Closing the distance between them, Eli mimicked Clare's action from moments before and took her face in his hands. Smiling down at her, he lowered his head and kissed her with all the emotion he had bottled up since their last kiss in the library. He poured everything he felt into her: sorrow, regret, hope, fear…and something like love.

As he released her from his gentle clutches, Clare had to steady herself against the door. If she thought the "library kiss" took her breath away, this one put her into oxygen debt. "We'll be ok, Clare. It might take some time, but we're going to be fine." Clare simply nodded, while yet another tear fell down her cheek. Eli smiled at Clare, turned around, and walked away. Watching him go, an alarming thought entered Clare's mind.

"Hey Eli!" Her voiced strained as she yelled after him. Slowly turning around, Eli cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, Edwards?"

"Do you ever frequent carwashes?"

Eli had no idea what possessed Clare to inquire about such a thing, but her face looked dangerously pale, so he didn't press the issue as he answered: "No…I wash Morty in my driveway."

"Good to know." Beaming, Clare ran into her home as Eli strolled away, shaking his head in confused amusement.

On his trek home and her assent upstairs, the young couple pondered the same thought:

It was going to be a hell of a long break.