A/N: Hello again, all. It's sequel time! They often say that the sequel is never as good as the original, something I have always been a firm believer in. However, that's not going to stop me from attempting to continue on with this little project. Something worth mentioning: this story is and always will be AU. I am ignoring the events that have occurred in "In Too Deep": plot lines such as Fiona's rehab visit, Fiona and Adam's falling out and Fitz's finding of Jesus have no part in this story. I am writing Fitz as the badass he was meant to be...and then some. For those of you who have not read my last story "The Cover-Up", you will have no idea of what's going on here. Hell, I don't even know what's going on here. But for those of you who did read my last story, what can you expect from this one? More violence, more bad behavior (on Clare's part), a new OC, and like I promised in the past: Flare. Anyway, Read, Review, Enjoy.

Disclaimer: If I did own Degrassi or any of it's characters; the I'd be living in a mansion in Canada right now. But this is not the case.

BROKEN MASK

Chapter 1: A New Alliance?

Six weeks.

Six weeks had passed since Clare killed Shane Newman, her former best friend, her partner in crime, her first carnal conquest (not that Eli was aware of). In fact, six weeks had passed since she had killed anything...and she was beginning to feel it.

The longing for blood, the need to unleash her pent-up anger that posing as "Saint Clare" had so often led to was beginning to drive her mad. Living a double life could be exhausting at times, but trying to avoid living that double life was starting to take a negative toll on her mental well-being. She hid it well from her friends, and Eli as always. But she knew she couldn't repress her dark urges forever; doing that would only lead to another fiasco, such as the one at Fiona's party.

In wasn't like she was trying to avoid sinking into her darkness; the fact of the matter was that she simply didn't have the time. Ever since her drug-induced, public outburst at Fiona's party, she found herself trying to go about her best behavior. It had been difficult, trying to explain her actions to her friends. She was lucky that Eli was so damn accepting and willing to make their relationship work. But having to come clean (half-way anyway) with Alli and Adam proved to be a nerve wracking experience.

The Monday morning after the party, Clare found herself being confronted by a sobbing Alli and very pissed-off Adam. Alli was mostly concerned about her health and safety, mistaking ecstasy as a horribly addictive and detrimental drug to use. Adam, meanwhile was angry at her for being in the company of Shane, but he was even more so peeved at Shane for slipping her the drugs. He continually questioned Clare about his home address, wanting to go there and bash his head in for doing that to her despite her claim that she decided to "no longer be in contact" with the so-called delinquent.

There was no need to mention that Shane Newman was now nothing more than a pile of unidentifiable ash. Miraculously, his body had been burnt so badly that medical examiners couldn't even scrounge for dental records to identify the lone victim in the fire that Clare started. She didn't return to the scene of the crime, but she did read a short blurb about it in the newspaper. Since the fire was in a a bad section of the city, there wasn't much public interest in the death of one unidentifiable person.

However, the subject of Shane Newman led Clare to have to explain her past with him to her current friends. She admitted that while in Catholic school, she faced multiple disciplinary problems because of her shenanigans with Shane. Her parents sent to her to Degrassi not only for the gifted program, but for a fresh start. Needless to say, it was a shock to everyone that the calm and chaste Clare had once been a Catholic school delinquent. In reality, Shane was not the conniving bad influence that she painted him as to her friends; he was her enabler onto a path of darkness.

But now that Shane was gone, she found herself without an enabler or an excuse to resort to her past ways. All she had was the desire to do so, and no space or time to do it.

And here she found herself, on a Wednesday night, alone and bored yet again. Since Eli was off having his traditional "Guy's Night" with Adam, Clare had no strings to hold her back from misbehaving just a little bit. She wasn't even sure if Helen still lived in the house anymore; they mostly communicated through sticky notes and the occasional envelope of cash for dinner and groceries.

Walking along the darkening streets, Clare's footsteps automatically led her to her old stomping grounds; the park where she and Shane had so often tortured animals and gotten plastered. She felt herself smile faintly at the distant memory. A chill, having nothing to do with her thoughts, washed over her. Despite the closeness of summer, the lack of sunshine still managed to produce a nippy Toronto night. Clare regretted her decision to not bring a sweater.

"Feeling a bit chilly, Edwards?" a familiar voice called out from behind her. Clare whipped around to see a dark figure hunched over on a park bench. Despite the lack of light, Clare was still able to conclude who the voice belonged to.

"Fitz?" Clare questioned. Fitz fidgeted a bit and pulled out his cell phone, opening it to illuminate his face.

"In the flesh." he smirked. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Clare shrugged, "Guy's night with Adam."

"I wasn't talking about that boyfriend." Fitz glowered. "I was talking about that other guy I once saw you here with." Clare knew that he was referring to Shane, she couldn't help but smile to herself as she thought back to that night. Not only had she told off KC, but she literally scared the piss out of Fitz as payback for his Vegas Night stunt.

"We're not really on speaking terms anymore." Clare answered calmly.

"Hn." Fitz muttered. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask. "Drink?" he questioned with a smirk. Clare could tell by his tone that he didn't expect her to accept. She offered him a smirk of her own and plucked the flask from his hand while plopping down on the bench beside him.

"Thank you." she smiled. She twisted off the top and tilted her head back, bringing the flask to her lips. Fitz watched in awe as she emptied the entire contents of the container into her throat, showing no trace of disgust or gagging.

Clare sighed as she tossed the now-empty flask back to it's owner. She could feel an intoxicated warmth flowing through her body, her earlier need for a sweater now eradicated.

"Shit. I meant for you to take a sip, not chug the entire thing." Fitz chuckled. She eyed him warily, thinking back to her last encounter with Fitz months ago where she had shown her true colors and practically assaulted him.

"I was thirsty." Clare shrugged. Fitz and laughed and shook his head.

"I don't get you, Edwards. You act like this perfectly nice, straight-edge girl around all your friends. But get you alone, and you're like a less-slutty version of Bianca." He stared at her, expectantly. "Is it me?"

"Is what you?" Clare asked.

"That brings this side of you out? Do I piss you off that much?" Clare chuckled, thinking back to last time she saw Fitz when she had scared him into soiling himself.

"Don't flatter yourself, Fitz. It's just the way I am." she got up from the bench and turned to bid Fitz goodbye when a barking in the distance distracted her. It was not a barking that one would associate with a normal dog, calling out to his companions. But rather, a dog that had never gotten a rabies shot and was on the move to kill.

A sick feeling descended on Clare, thinking back to what started it all; the horrid experience of watching her mother torn to pieces by ravenous dogs.

The barking was becoming louder in volume; getting closer.

"Clare?" Fitz questioned. Her sudden change in demeanor was not lost on him.

A rustling in the bushes was their only warning before an angry looking German Shepherd lunged out towards the two teens, foam dripping from his mouth. He set his eyes on Clare, the closer target.

"Look out!" Fitz yelled. He lept up from his place on the bench just in time to shove the shell- shocked girl out of harm's way and deliver a hard kick to the dog's chest. The dog whimpered slightly and fell to the ground for only a moment before picking himself up and lunging towards Fitz.

Fitz grabbed onto the dog's neck with both hands before he could sink his teeth into him. Clare watched from her place on the ground as Fitz struggled to keep the mongrel under control. Despite his size and strength, Fitz was beginning to have trouble keeping the dog in one place.

And then, Clare noticed an object shining on the grass that had fallen from the boy's pocket; something she had last seen months and months ago jammed into a wall in Degrassi as Eli sat shaking besides it. Fitz's knife.

Setting her initial shock aside, Clare scooped up the knife, expertly flicking out the blade and hopping back up on her feet. She bent down slightly between Fitz and the German Shepherd, jamming the blade into the dog's stomach and dragging down, severing it's furry flesh so that the organs resting beneath threatened to spill out to the ground. The dog whimpered and fell to it's side, dead.

Clare breathed in deeply, trying to steady her rapid heartbeat.

"What the hell?" Fitz muttered, staring down at the dog and then towards Clare. A wave of panic washed over her at the realization of what she had done. She had let her mask slip, once again, but in the worse way possible. She had let another witness her murderous rage.

Clare closed the knife and shoved into Fitz's hands. "Here." she muttered, turning on her heel to make a quick getaway. She wasn't in the mood to explain herself.

A strong, but gentle hand enclosed around her bicep, halting her movements. She whipped her head towards Fitz, a snarky comment ready on her tongue. But then, she saw his face; it wasn't a look of disgust or shock, but rather concern and dare she say- admiration?

"Are you okay?" Fitz whispered.

Clare nodded her head softly. "Yeah, I just..." she paused, trying to think of a believable excuse, "I don't like dogs." she muttered lamely. She stared down at her hands, soaked and sticky with blood

Fitz breathed out, uneasily. "You must really hate them then." He eyed her with a curious uncertainty.

"I should go." Clare mumbled, turning to walk away.

"No, don't!" Fitz said with a slight trace of desperation in his voice. "Don't go, stay for a minute. Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk."

"Then just sit." Fitz ordered calmly, pulling her alongside him to the bench. Clare relented.

Fitz remained silent for nearly a full minute, looking straight ahead into the darkening night, a million thought running through his mind. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tattered bandanna, he handed it to Clare who wordlessly began wiping the blood from her hands.

"That wasn't the first time you ever killed something, wasn't it?" he whispered softly.

Clare closed her eyes in defeat, her failure to keep her cool combined with the effects of the alcohol prohibited her from thinking up a creative lie.

"No, it wasn't."

A look of shock washed over Fitz's face before softening to an understanding smile. "Okay then."

"Okay, what?" Clare questioned, not knowing what he was getting at.

"I just wanted to make sure." he paused, "because if that was your first time killing a dog, then I'd have to say; you're a real natural." he chuckled softly.

Clare couldn't find within herself to join in his laughter, "You can't tell anyone about this."

Fitz shrugged, "Who would believe me? Little Saint Clare killing a rabid dog? People would just laugh it off, maybe have me committed to the nut house." he chuckled darkly. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"What's the catch?" Clare asked suspiciously.

"What catch?"

"Do you really think I expect you to keep this quiet for nothing?" she asked sardonically.

"I could do that, if you really wanted," he grinned widely, "how about your virginity?" he asked jokingly. Clare couldn't help but wince inwardly at that comment. Her virginity was long gone, and the only person who was aware of that fact was dead.

"I can't give you that."

"Of course not, already promised it to Emo boy, right? Has he bought you a ring yet?" Fitz snapped, his mood soured at the thought of the boy who hated so much.

Clare rolled her eyes. "Look, just tell me what you want in return to keep this quiet and I'll be on my way."

Fitz thought to himself for a minute before turning back to Clare. "I want your friendship. I want to hang out with you. And let me stress that it is you who I want to spend time with. Not that good girl act you put up for everyone else. I want to get to know this booze chugging, dog-killing girl who goes mistakenly mislabeled as Saint Clare."

Clare couldn't help but taken back at his request, not mention his verbal prowess.

"Fine." she agreed, "but if Eli or anyone at school finds out-"

"No one will find out." Fitz assured her. "Summer's coming up, everyone will be too busy with their own shit to worry about gossip. Now give me your phone." Clare shot him a questioning look, "so that I can give you my number, not steal it." he assured her.

Clare pulled her phone out of her pocket and passed it to Fitz. He punched in his name and number into her contacts list, being sure to send a text to his own phone so that he would have her number as well. He smirked as he handed her phone back to her.

"I listed my number under my first name, just in case Emo-boy goes through your phone when you're not looking." Fitz explained.

"He doesn't." Clare answered shortly. She kept her attention on her phone, scrolling through her list of contacts until she reached one that was unfamiliar to her- Mark F. She laughed lightly. "I wasn't even aware that you had a first name."

"It's the same case for most people." He glanced down at his phone, noticing the late hour. "You should head home, wouldn't want mommy and daddy to worry about you being out late on a school night."

She laughed bitterly, "My dad's dead and my mother is never home," Fitz's grin fell, "but you're right. Can't be late for school."

"I'm sorry." Fitz said. Clare could almost swear that his sympathy was genuine, but brushed the thought off.

"What about you? Do you even go to school anymore?" Clare questioned.

"Home school," Fitz explained.

"Right," she nodded. "Thanks for the drink." she lifted herself off the bench and began walking away.

"I'll call you later, Edwards." Fitz called out to her retreating form, "Sweet dreams!"

Although she didn't show it externally, Clare was still in a state of shock. She didn't know whether her agreement with Fitz would lead to an unexpected friendship, or to another body she would have to dispose of.

Most of her wanted the former option.