Soooo... yeah. Here's this. I have nothing to say for my absense other than I hope that you enjoy this! I found the first half of it marked as "Contest Entry in the Library" and pulled it open. Boy, was I surprised when I saw this! :)

There was no sound. The silence was deafening, swirling and pulsating in his ears. All he heard was the small sound off her breathing. Lightly, painstakingly, but yes, still breathing.

"Amy," he said, reaching out for her in the darkened alley way in England and breaking the silence. "Amy."

"Get away from me, Cobra," she hissed at him, pushing herself farther against the brick wall.

She was in a pitiful state, her shirt in rags and her jeans ripped to shorts. Trainers with the soles peeling off adorned her feet, and her hair was a rat's nest, pony-tail puffed out and coming undone.

He knelt in front of her, trying to grab her hand. She flinched back, untrusting. "Why are you doing this?" she panted, sweat trickling down her forehead. "Your mother could be here at any moment and here you are, filling the air around me with utter lies."

Admittedly, the comment stung, but he couldn't just walk away and leave her to the mercy of his ruthless mother. Not again.

"I know you don't believe me," he murmured softly, trailing a finger across the ground. "And you have every right not to. But please let me tell you how I see things."

She nodded cautiously, eyes alight with distrust and pain unlike anything he's ever seen. "I'll hear your lies," she agreed, wiping the blood mingled with dust off her arm. "Don't expect me for one moment to believe that you felt anything more than disgust for me since the moment you laid eyes on me."

"Of course not," he muttered. "I'd say it had to have begun back when we were only seven or so…"

:::::::::::::flashback::::::::::::::::

It was summer, and Grace Cahill was holding her annual family get-together at her mansion. A seven year old Ian Kabra hiked up the long driveway towards the mansion, hand in hand with his much younger sister Natalie. She looked like a little doll, dressed up in her sparkly red dress and Mary-Janes.

Isabel and Vikram greeted Grace with their normal superficial air in the entrance hall of the mansion. Ian just looked on while Natalie played silently with a dandelion she had picked from the ground.

"What should I wish for, Ian?" she asked, poking at the soft seeds of the plant.

Ian just shrugged as Grace smiled at him.

"Hello there, Ian!" she said happily. "I'd like you to meet my Amy here, and her charmer of a brother Dan."

Behind Grace was a small boy, no older than Natalie, at four. He promptly stuck his tongue out at her, and Natalie gasped.

"Mummy!" she protested. "He can't do that!"

Ian, however, was focused on the girl his age standing next to Grace. She had long hair that was a weird color he had never seen before. It looked red when the sun hit it, but it also looked like it might be brown. And her eyes were a shade of green he had never seen before.

"Hi," she whispered, looking him over with the same awed expression. "I'm Amy."

"Hello, Amy," he told her, looking into her pretty green eyes. This girl was full of surprises. Secretly red hair and new green eyes.

Grace beamed at the pair. "Would you two like to go get something to drink? Amy, why don't you escort Ian to the kitchen and have James get you some lemonade?"

Amy nodded silently and walked out of the room, Ian following. "Do you live here?" he asked, not liking the silence.

"I wish," she told him, brushing hair out of her small heart shaped face. "I live with my stupid Aunt Beatrice who hates me and Dan."

"Dan and me," he corrected automatically. She frowned, but went on, "I wish I lived here! This house is – is- is ginormous!" Amy said, waving her arms around.

Ian stifled a laugh. "My house is much bigger than this," he told her as they came into the kitchen, which did indeed seem massive.

"James!" Amy called, sitting with Ian at the stainless steel counter. "Can we have some lemonade?" she asked as an impeccably dressed caterer waltzed into the room.

"Certainly, princess," he said, bowing. Amy giggled, a sound that reminded Ian of bells. "Would your prince like some as well?"

"He's n-not my p-prince!" she stuttered, blushing furiously.

"Yes, I'd like some," Ian had said, reveling in her obvious discomfort.

Two glasses were presented to them, complete with mini umbrellas.

"Thank you!" Amy squeaked, taking a long sip.

Ian took a much more hesitant one and was startled by the zap of sour he received on his tongue. He scrunched up his face and puckered his mouth, causing Amy to go into a fit of giggles.

"Be careful!" she reprimanded him, giving him a tea spoon of sugar.

Ian took the spoon and mixed it in, taking another sip. It sent a cool shiver down his spine and he grinned, ecstatic at this new found drink. "Watch out!" Amy called as he whirled around.

But he was too late. Amy's glass was hit by his elbow, spilling all over her. Hair sopping wet, she fell from the stool and into a puddle of lemonade.

"I'm sorry!" Ian exclaimed, kneeling down beside her.

Amy's lip quivered, but she whispered, "That's okay." Suddenly, a mischievous look lit up her face.

As he stood, lemonade pouring over him, Ian realized that he was officially in love.

:::::::::::end flashback:::::::::::

"So you had a thing for me when we were children," she said, dismissing his story with a wave of her hand.

"But that wasn't the only time," he told her, gazing into her slightly stunned eyes.

"Well, then," she whispered, gesturing to him. "Go on, and hurry up. You witch of a mother could be here within a moment."

"Well, remember when we were just turned eleven and Grace invited me to your birthday party?"

:::::::::::flashback::::::::::

"Ian!" Amy exclaimed, a stunned expression obvious on her face. "What are you going here?"

"Grace invited me," he mumbled, barely making Amy's gaze. "And my mother is visiting some people near here, so she let me come."

Suddenly, a group of giggling girls came into view. "Oh, who's your boyfriend, Amy?" one giggled, waving to Ian.

"He's not my boyfriend, Claire!" she snapped, her auburn hair – he had learned the word long since then – swishing in the sun.

"But he brought flowers," another pointed out gesturing to the small bouquet of red tulips he had in his hand.

"Oh – Grace said they were your favorite and what with mother forcing me to come…" Ian shoved them into her hands.

The expressions of the group's faces dropped. "Yes, he was forced to come!" Amy said to her friends. "Go wait for me in my bed room!"

"Too bad Amy! He's cute!" one of the retreating girls called.

"So whataya want, Ian? We both know you don't like me!" she snapped at him.

"My mother made me come, thank you very much, peasant!" Ian snapped back.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Well, invitation declined, Kabra, we have a full house. So get your nose out of the air and go back to London or wherever it is you people come from."

It stung. "Well, SORRY!" he yelled. "Happy birthday then, Cahill!"

"God – why did Grace even invite you?" she muttered, running her hands across her head.

"Ask her yourself!" he growled, taking a step closer to her.

"Make me," she shot back, obviously looking for an argument. She took a step closer, decreasing the space to a minor few inches.

"Maybe I will, Cahill," Ian hissed, moving his eyes closer to hers.

"Bite me," she fired back at him. Suddenly he was all too aware of how close in proximity they were, how he could feel her breath on his mouth.

"Maybe I will," he replied, closing the space between them by brushing his lips to hers.

He had seen people kiss in movies, and what Ian had done to Amy hardly even qualified as a kiss, so he was completely and utterly shocked when a jolt of what felt like pure energy shot down his spine, turning his stomach, not unlike the lemonade had.

Immediately, Amy broke the kiss and slammed the door in his face. "Bye," she shouted through the door.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Ian yelled, grabbing his nose. He was convinced she had broken it. Hand covering it, he looked towards one of the upper windows where he saw a curtain move.

In it was a barely there image of Amy Cahill. But before he could do anything, she was gone. Ian huffed angrily as Grace stepped out of the house, an ice pack in hand.

"Hello, Ian dear," she said, giving the ice to him.

Ian gladly accepted it with a thanks and looked back at the window.

"My, my, my," Grace tutted. "Already smitten, aren't you?"

His denial only made it worse, he reflected. Ian was still completely head over heels for this girl he barely knew.

::::::::::end flashback::::::::::::::

She let out a sigh as he finished his tale of woe and broken nose. "Serves you right," she muttered. "I had had my perfect first kiss already planned and everything, and then you had to come along and ruin it!"

"Sorry," was all he said.

"Ian, either I do something about this arm or I'm going to bleed to death," she told him, shifting her weight. He was still kneeling in front of her.

"Of course," he said, bringing out a vial. "Drink this – the blood will clot immediately and bleeding will cease."

She uncorked the purple concoction, sniffed it, and then downed it. The face she pulled afterwards was priceless.

"Continue your story," she hissed, throwing the glass at the wall angrily where it shattered. "If you poisoned me, I will come back to haunt you until the day you die."

He chortled and continued. "Of course. So anyhow, back when we were both finally thirteen – that day in the library? Oh yes, that day stands out most clearly in my mind."

::::::::flashback:::::::::

Ian was at another one of Grace's idiotic Cahill meeting, tucked away in the corner of her library with a book. He liked to read well enough, but the only bookworm of the house would have to be Amy Cahill, nerd extraordinaire.

Ah, that was a girl he hadn't thought about in a while. Ian had had an enormously embarrassing crush on her since the first day they had met back when they were seven. It had never really bloomed any further – the pair could hardly get passed friendship other than that one little mishap kiss when they were eleven.

It wasn't like he was irrevocably in love or anything sappy like that. Ian found her intriguing, and rather pretty….in a simple sort of way.

That hadn't stopped him from dating though, quite on the contrary. Since turning twelve, Ian had had no less than seven girlfriends, and he had turned thirteen about three months ago. He was currently dateless, which suited him just fine.

Suddenly, there was a crash and an exclamation of, "Oh no!" from across the way.

Ian stood and peered down the aisle of books, shocked to see Amy Cahill of all people buried beneath a pile of books with the shelf falling on top of her.

"Need help, Cahill?" he asked her, plastering his signature smirk on his face.

"Oh, I'm sure you f-find this just h-h-hilarious!" she snapped, though stuttering.

"Actually, I do," Ian replied, picking a book of the shelf and placing it on her head. "There you go – to complete the look."

"Shove off!" Amy shouted, struggling to get out from under the pile. "What are you even doing here anyway?"

"Escaping the madness," he told her, looking down upon her in amusement. Her hair was sticking out in every which way and her eyes were brimming with complete and utter contempt as she looked at him. "I was sure I could find at least one book in here to read."

The fight seemed to drain out of Amy and she muttered, "C-can you help me out of here?"

Ian pondered this. "Well, I suppose I could…."

"KABRA!" Amy snapped. "Help me!"

Chuckling, he leant down and started pushing books off of her. The entire shelf seemed to have collapsed on top of her, much to his happiness.

"Wait – you're completely trapped under there, aren't you?" he asked. The shelf was leaning over top of her, stopping any routes of escape.

"I guess I am," Amy growled, trying to look around. Ian knelt down in front of her and smiled charmingly watching as she gulped. "Kabra, move. Seriously."

Ian was grinning at her in a sadistic sort of way. "Oh no – I can't, Amy. You still have to apologize for hurting my nose last time we met face to face."

She flushed red at the memory and said, "Never! You deserved it, you Cobra!"

Despite the complete innocence of her convicting words, Ian felt a pang. "All I did was kiss you," he murmured quietly.

"It was a very unwanted kiss!" she replied, struggling to get out of her predicament. "By you none the less! Isn't that incest?"

Ian laughed. "Not at all, Amy, love."

Suddenly, she stopped struggling. "Wha – what did you call me?" Amy asked softly.

He was suddenly very aware of everything. The way his hands were randomly sweaty, the way his tongue didn't seem to fit quite in his mouth – and - was it hot in here or was it just him?

"Nothing, it must've been a slip of the tongue," Ian replied.

"Of course," she whispered, pushing books off of her. Nearly uncovered, Amy pulled herself out and found herself trapped between the shelf and Ian.

"Move," she demanded. When he didn't budge she tried using her hands to push him out of the way. Ian was instantly conscious of the way her hands sent a buzz through him and he felt the blood rush to his face.

"Never!" Ian replied, standing his ground. Amy was a fairly small girl, and for the life of her, couldn't shove him away.

"Come on!" she hissed, grabbing his arm and yanking down in an attempt to pull him away from her exit.

But it backfired, and Ian was pulled straight down on top of her with an "oomph!"

He looked down at her, elbows propping himself up. Amy stared back, eye lashes fluttering. He green eyes sparkled and her mouth was open in an "o" of surprise.

"Hi," she said quietly, breaking Ian out of his trance.

"Hello, love," Ian replied.

She raised an eyebrow and murmured, "Are you going to get off of me?"

Feeling foolish, Ian scrambled off and dusted himself off. "If you wanted me on top of you, all you had to do was ask!" he told her suggestively, receiving a scoff of disgust.

"As if, Kabra." Amy started to walk away, and then stopped. "I think you dropped this," she told him, turning around and handing him a folded up piece of paper.

He opened it up, confused. Then, he saw what was written all over it.

IK + AC

Ian and Amy Kabra

Mrs. Amy Kabra

Ian loves Amy

For what was possibly the first time in his life, Ian felt heat rise to his face in an unmistakable blush as he remembered drawing this all over his notes during class. It had fallen out of his pocket.

"Love, you forgot your book!" he called, grabbing the novella and slipping the paper inside. Amy turned around and grabbed the book, then stalked out of the room.

Ian sighed. He had it bad.

::::::end flashback::::::::

Amy chuckled nervously and murmured, "I remember that day. It was the first time you called me love. And that paper – I found it later on that afternoon. Threw it out thinking Dan was messing with me."

Ian shook his head. "No, never. I've loved you since we were seven."

"Seven years is a long time to harbor a crush on someone," she replied, still obviously skeptic, though much less so now.

Now he was frustrated. "This is not just a crush, love." Ian struggle to describe his feelings towards her. "This was love at first sight, true love, one and only, my saving grace and all that. You have never seemed to be able to grasp that concept, however…."

Despite the compromising situation, Amy gave a slight smile and said, "I guess I haven't, Kabra. Would it help for me to say that I had a huge crush on you back then? I'm not going to lie and say I do now, but I did."

"I suppose it would," Ian mused, placing his hand over her injured left arm.

Caught up in the moment, the pair just watched each other as time ticked by. Suddenly, there was a crash from farther down the street. The stars were out now, as well as a crescent moon hanging in the sky.

Fear lit up Amy's gaze as she struggled to get up. Ian helped her, wincing as she stared at him, never breaking eye contact.

"What will you do?" she whispered. I wasn't just a question, it was a challenge, and he knew it. He didn't reply, just took the gun out of the waist of his pants and raised it upwards.

Amy took a step back, fearful. "Ian – Kabra – what are you – "

There was a bang as Ian shot the gun, the blast echoing off the walls of the alley-way. Amy made a break for it as she realized what had happened, holding her arm awkwardly.

Ian felt pain like nothing he had felt before as he fell to the ground, grasping his shoulder. The bullet had hit it, just as he knew it would.

"Ian!" his mother hissed, stalking over to him, a murderous look on her face. The night illuminated her face in an eerie way, making her appear ghost-like.

"Sh – she ran. Took the gun," Ian managed through the pain, his hand still on his wound. There was blood dripping off his fingers, a sight Ian found morbidly curious. He watched the crimson drops as Isabel spoke.

"Where'd she go?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips while holding her gun.

Ian jerked his head in the opposite direction Amy had run and groaned, "It's kind of a blur."

"You imbecile!" Isabel growled, taking the butt of her gun and slamming it into the side of Ian's head. "You let her go!"

He felt himself begin to slip away, unregistering as Isabel kept shouting. Behind her, he noticed before it went black, there was someone. Someone who looked vaguely familiar. Someone who he might have loved.

Before he could properly finish his train of thought there was a BANG loud enough to make him see stars. One of the two figures before him dropped to the ground as black covered his vision.

And he wasn't entirely sure he knew who it was.

Sooo...yeah. What do you think? This piece took me an obnoxiously long time to finish. I'll let all of you figure out what happened... comments? Ideas? And for those of you wondering... I am going to update The Chauffuer soon! :)

Oh, and be prepared for another, darker, hurt/comfort fic. It's extremely different from my normal style. I think ya'll will enjoy it though! :P

~Dani X3