A/N: So, I've been fretting over this next chapter for a while, thinking of how to plan it and if I should even post it, when I just decided to do it. The worse thing readers can do is not review or flame. The way I characterize these people may not be totally like the way they are in the book, but-for future chapters, not just this one-the way they act is the way I think they'd actually act if confronted by the situation. Oh! And for later chapters, Michael was turned about two or three weeks prior to the beginning of the story. It'll make more sense why I'm mentioning this later on.

Thank you to all who reviewed and I hope you like this part!

The next morning was hard. Her muscles ached, muscles she didn't even think could be sore, and her legs were a little bit wobbly. She walked to the bathroom unsteadily, happy that no one met her in the hallway, and took a long hot shower.

The hot water felt amazing against her skin and, as she washed, it relaxed all the muscles that were strained, tensed, and sore. She was barely able to pull herself from under the stream to get out, it felt so good.

When she made it back to her room, she dropped the towel in preparation to get dressed. It was when she was about to pull on her bra when she noticed the twin cuts above her breast. She fought hard not to think about how she got them, but to take care of them. She put a bandage over the cuts then walked around her room a few times to get rid of the pain between her legs so none of her friends would notice the change.

It was useless because as soon as she walked into the kitchen where all of her roommates sat, Michael's eyes snapped to her and she could see something going on behind his eyes. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Claire? What's-"

"Morning guys!" Claire said brightly, effectively cutting off whatever Michael was going to say. Everybody responded and Claire went over and got a glass of orange juice. She had just finished it when she felt arms wrap around her waist. She screamed and jumped away from whoever it was, the glass falling from her hands. Shane looked from the broken glass on the floor to her.

"Claire, you okay?"

She nodded hesitantly, fear slowly fading away. "Yea. I'm just a little…frightened. Something was moving around in the alley last night and I guess I'm still a little shaken."

He nodded and leaned in to kiss her which she promptly moved her head to the side so she could peck his cheek. She immediately felt guilty at the hurt in his eyes. "Sorry, but I think I'm getting sick. Don't want to infect you too." He nodded again, looking a little confused, and allowed her to move away from him. "See you guys later." She said as she ran out the kitchen and up the stairs to her room. She closed the door and sat against it for a minute. "I'm sorry, Shane." She mumbled before getting up and getting ready for school.

Claire didn't want to hurt him but she also didn't want him kissing or touching her. She was dirty now; she wasn't good enough for him. She'd been used and now she had nothing to give him but her brokenness and useless body. She hoped he would see that soon and break it off so she could wallow in her pain and not hurt him too.

Her bag was almost packed when there was a knock. She opened the door and found Michael standing there.

"Hey Michael, what's up?" She tried for casual and felt she achieved it.

His eyes remained serious. "We need to talk."

"I know, but I have to get to class-"

"We need to talk. Now." He said and walked into her room.

Claire closed the door and watched nervously as his nose flared as he looked around the room. His eerily blue eyes turned back to her and looked at her closely. "What happened last night?"

"Nothing."

He shook his head. "I'm not buying that shit. Something happened last night, Claire, and we both know it. So save us both time and cut the crap. You know that I can tell when you're lying so please: just tell me."

She opened her mouth to actually tell him, but she could only think the words. "H…" That's as far as she could get without her throat closing up and the words trapping themselves at the back of her throat. "I…" Tears fell as she tried to get it out. 'Oliver raped me! He raped me!' It just wouldn't come out and she just collapsed in tears again. Michael knelt beside her and wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair.

"Claire…" Michael said, unsure of how to proceed. "Are you okay?" She shook her head and clutched the front of his shirt and buried her head in his chest. "What happened? Please tell me, Claire. Please. I just want to help."

"I-I-I can't tell you."

"C'mon Claire. I know it must be hard-"

Claire jumped up, feeling angry suddenly. "It's not hard: it's impossible! And you don't know! You'll never know!" She nearly screamed at him, grabbed her bag, and ran out of her room and out of the house, passing the surprised faces of Eve and Shane.

The Texas heat greeted her and warmed her face. She roughly scrubbed any sign of tears away and made her way toward the university.

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When she made it home that evening, her session with Myrnin had been mysteriously canceled sadly, the house smelled like roses.

"Anyone here?" She called out and was met with silence. She moved through the house and spotted a vase of roses sitting in the middle of the table. She sat her bag down by the couch and cautiously approached them.

They were beautiful: fully bloomed, thorns cut away, and most of them were bright red except for the one in the middle.

A white rose.

A bleeding white rose.

Or at least it was one painted to look as if it were bleeding.

She moved forward and picked up the card addressed to her in smooth handwriting. With shaky hands, she pulled the card from its envelope and read.

To Claire,

Because you never forget your first.

She immediately dropped the card to the ground as her heart stopped and tears came to her eyes. She knew who had sent her these flowers.

Oliver. He was taunting her: reminding her of how he owned her in a way that only he could.

Ignoring the panic growing in her, Claire picked up the card and took the flowers to her room. Something bothered her about them. Why send her a mostly red bouquet and include a white rose? She knew that in the past roses of a certain color held a certain meaning but she didn't know them off the top of her head. On her laptop, she searched the meaning of the colors and read. Anything was better than thinking about the actual event, what actually happened to her. She just had to keep her mind busy.

The most obvious and well known meaning of the red rose is deep love and affection.

Claire shook her head and immediately disposed of that meaning. Oliver neither loved her nor was affectionate towards her. If anything, he hated her. She read on.

But desire is another aspect of the red rose. The red rose expresses the throbbing heat, a passionate expression of attraction. Red is the color of consummation, of raging desires and craving passion.

Claire thought this was much more accurate of what he'd sent her. It was nothing but his desire that fueled last night. She had done nothing to make him do it and couldn't do anything to make him stop. She shook her head and looked up what a white rose meant.

With its pristine appearance, the white rose has come to symbolize purity, innocence and secrecy. There are myths and legends from several different cultures relating to the origin of the first rose which is initially white in color and is then miraculously transformed. Oftentimes the pure white rose was depicted as being stained by blood…

Claire couldn't read any more. Her head spun, stomach rolled, she felt like gagging, and tears gathered in her eyes as she caught on to the meaning of why Oliver had sent her the flowers and what they meant. She looked at them again and closely at the bleeding white rose.

The red roses were to tell her that he had actually enjoyed himself last night, that he enjoyed taking her virginity. But the originally white rose was to show her innocence in the fact that she was a virgin and the red streaking it showed how the innocence, the purity was tainted now and would be forever more. That her innocent self image was now changed forever by the streak of red.

Like being stained by blood.

With that thought, she actually was sick and puked into the small trashcan she kept beside her bed. She couldn't wrap her head around all this crap happening to her.

She'd only been in that position for a few minutes when a hand fell on her shoulder. She squeaked and nearly fell out the chair in her rush to get away from whoever was invading her space. She was greatly relieved when it turned out to only be Michael, who looked very worried.

"Claire, are you okay?" He asked.

She tried to keep her heart rate down as she lied. "Yea, I told Shane that I thought I was coming down with something. Probably the flu. I'm okay Michael." She tried to give him a reassuring smile but it didn't work.

"I would have believed that if you hadn't collapsed in tears this morning telling me that you were not okay. So now we're alone, Claire, tell me what's up."

She looked at a random spot on the carpet. "Nothing is up. I was just being crazy this morning. The new classes, Jason, working with Myrnin, and all these dead girls are just stressful. I'm just a little worn out."

Claire was surprised and happy to see that Michael looked reassured. He stood and looked as if he were about to leave when he noticed something. "Hey, who are the flowers from? They're pretty cool, especially the white one…" He didn't get an answer because Claire turned back to the trashcan and puked some more.

Just barely even thinking about it made her nauseous.

Michael stood there watching for a bit before leaning over and patting her back. This sent a wave of pain through Claire and she cried out. Michael, confused, looked at her and put his hand back on her back. "Claire…" He was stopped as she cried out again and moved away from him, shielding her back from him.

She had totally forgotten about the scratches from last night and knew what was about to come out of Michael's mouth.

"What's wrong with your back?"

"T-There was a large crowd o-on campus today and I-I-I fell."

He shook his head. "You're lying. Show me your back."

"No."

"C'mon, Claire. Show me your back. Either you show me or I'll make you show me." He warned but she moved out her chair so her back was against the wall and further from him. This sent even more pain through her body (how had she not noticed the pain before?) and she swallowed hard to not cry. "Show me your back."

"No." Michael shook his head and approached her, pulling her up off the wall as if she weighed nothing. "No, Michael! Stop! You can't do this. I said-" She stopped abruptly as she felt air meet her back and felt more than saw Michael freeze.

"What is this?" He asked, his voice low and deadly.

"I told you! I fell-"

"Cut the bullshit Claire!" He shouted then whispered. "You're scaring me. Why are there scratches on your back?"

"I can't tell you. I'm sorry!" She cried and jerked away from him. He followed.

"You can tell me anything. Please, Claire, please." He looked at her straight on for a second. "Was it…Was it Shane? If he's abusing you or doing anything he shouldn't be…"

"What? No! Of course not!"

"Then why can't you tell me? Please Claire, I'm worried!"

"Don't you think that if I could tell you, I would?" She shouted. "I was told not to! I can't tell anyone! He made sure of it." She said bitterly.

Michael's face went blank. "He…?" Pieces seemed to click into place as he connected the dots. "Was it a vampire?" Claire nodded, happy that he was guessing and not making her say it. "Did he…y'know, bite you?" She shook her head. "Did he hurt you?" She nodded. "Are these roses from him?" She nodded again, thought for a second, then jumped up.

"I have an idea." It was mentally painful to even go near the roses, but she had to retrieve the card from them. It would tell Michael all he needed to know about what he had done to her. She picked it up and handed it to him. "Read it."

He was confused for a second but did as she said. "To Claire, because you never forget your first…" He froze and if he'd had been human all the blood would have drained from his face. He looked up at Claire horrified. "Your first? If he's not talking about biting you then…Oh my God Claire, did he…?" Tears ran down her face as she nodded. He dropped the card and enveloped her in a tight hug where she just cried and cried for what felt like the hundredth time. "I'm so sorry, Claire." He said and she could feel his tears through her hair.

They just stood like that for a while, holding each other and wallowing in Claire's pain. It felt so good to finally have someone know. It had been eating at her all day. When she finished crying, she and Michael sat on her bed.

"Tell me what happened."

"I can't tell: the compulsion is too strong, but if you guess I can tell you if you're right."

He took a deep breath and nodded. "So he…y'all had sex?" He re-worded, thinking it was too harsh to mention the 'r' word.

"It's okay, Michael: you can say it. He raped me." She said calmly.

"Claire…"

"No, say it. It's what happened. We don't have to dance around the subject."

He nodded again. "He raped you." He hesitated, seeing tears in her eyes, before continuing. "He compelled you to what: like it?"

She nodded. "To like it, to want it, to need it. I was so confused! My head knew what was actually happening but was so dazed that I thought I needed it, thought I would die without it."

"Did he touch you?" She nodded. "Every where?" He awkwardly motioned over his chest then lower. She nodded. "Did he kiss you? Every where?" She nodded to the chest but shook her head when he got lower. "Did he make you…do anything?" She saw what he meant and shook her head. "Thank God. Do I know him?"

"Yea, we all do."

"That narrows it down a bit, since you only know a few vamps because you've only been here like two months. Was he a younger vamp or older one?"

"Older: much, much older." Claire could see that Michael was already connecting the pieces in his head because she saw pure hatred pour into his eyes and they turned a dark red.

"It was Oliver, wasn't it?" She nodded and more tears gushed out as her blockage was gone. She threw herself onto her pillow and wept.

"Oliver raped me." She sobbed over and over again. She felt Michael stretch out beside her and pull her close. She turned and buried her head in his chest again.

"That son of a bitch." Michael spat. "How dare he? He knows you are under Amelie's protection! He's going to get punished…"

"N-N-No he won't."

"What do you mean?"

"He knew loop holes in the contracts. He-He knew that it only protects against attacks that lead to my death or deal with taking blood."

"Sneaky bastard. We can still tell Amelie. She might still be able to-"

"No, I can't tell anyone and you can't tell anyone either."

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. "And why the hell not?"

"He compelled me to kill myself if you told anyone." She murmured and felt his hands ball into fists. She looked up to see his eyes were bright red but they quickly receded back to their usual blue.

"I should kill him for this."

"But you can't. If anything happens to him, I'll die, regardless. We can't do anything. All we can do is keep quiet."

"But-But what he did to you was wrong."

"I know, but it happened and now I have to live with it." She started to sob. "I have to live with it for the rest of my life." She turned away from him and curled up into a ball on her side. She expected him just to leave but he pulled her back to him and held her. It was similar to cuddling with Shane but there was nothing sexual about it and it was very comforting to Claire and she fell asleep quickly.

Her sleep wasn't deep because she could feel when Michael kissed her forehead and moved off the bed and toward the door. She could hear the soft click of the lock as he closed the door. She could also hear the surprised grunt that met Michael in the hallway.

"Is there a reason why you are coming out of my girlfriend's room?" Shane asked, sounding more than a little pissed.

"We were talking." There was a silence then another grunt or grunt like sound.

"What the fuck, Fang Boy? Can you move so I can go talk to my girlfriend?"

"Sorry, but she wanted to be alone."

"Then why were you in there with her?"

"We were talking. She needed a shoulder to cry on so I gave her mine."

"And she can't talk to me why?"

"Because she's sleeping and she needs to rest." There was another silence then something that sounded like a punch.

"What did you do to Claire? Did you bite her? Drain her? Is my girlfriend lying in there dead because you couldn't control your vampire thirst?"

Michael's voice was low and deadly when he answered. "I would never, never do anything to hurt Claire. I know you may not like me at the moment Shane for a choice I made because I thought it would help, but Claire is my friend. She's trying to get over something really serious. Something that will only get worse if you don't give her the time and space she needs to sort it out and heal."

All the fight dropped out of Shane's voice. "Serious? What happened? Is it why she was acting so strange this morning?"

"Yes, but I can't tell you anything but…" His voice trailed off until Claire couldn't hear him and she fell asleep again.

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When she woke up, she woke up screaming.

Never in her life had she had such a horrible nightmare. Oliver had came back and done it again, but this time was different. He had tied Michael, Eve, and Shane up in the background and forced them to watch. She couldn't scream or fight because every time she did, a knife appeared in his hand and he threw it at them. Some of them missed, but a few hit points: in Michael's chest and Shane's legs. They had both screamed out in pain and she tried to keep her mouth shut but in the nightmare she kept on screaming. Eventually Oliver got tired of her screaming and ordered three of his minions to kill her friends. She saw shadows move and appear behind the three, two with large knifes and one with a stake. Claire watched in horror as the shadows pulled back their weapons and brought them down, aiming for each of her friend's heart.

Claire didn't know how long she sat up screaming but when she stopped, Eve was sitting right beside her and Shane was standing by the door.

"Claire. Claire!" Eve, void of any of her usual make up and skulls, shook her until Claire's eyes focused on her. "Claire, what's wrong? Why are you screaming bloody murder?"

Her eyes went from Eve to Shane and back, making sure both of them were actually there. "I-I-I just had a very bad nightmare. You guys were...And I was…" She took a deep breath and looked around again noticing something missing. "Where's Michael?" She asked, panic rising. It was dark outside and there was only one place he might have gone.

Shane tensed. "He's downstairs trying to calm himself by playing his stupid guitar. Whatever you guys talked about earlier must have really pissed him off: he's broken three strings." Claire nodded and the panic receded. She was glad Michael hadn't gone to see Oliver while she was sleep.

Eve looked between the two of them. "Earlier? What were you and Michael talking about that would make him so mad?"

Claire looked at the cover between them. "Nothing. It's nothing important: at least nothing y'all need to worry about."

"It must be. C'mon Claire-"

"Don't bother; neither of them is going to tell us. We're not important enough to know." Shane shook his head.

"Shane-"

"What Claire? What? Michael told me it was something serious, so why can't you tell us?"

"It's complicated!"

He snorted angrily. "It's complicated. It's always fucking complicated." He shook his head again and walked out the door.

"Shane!" She tried, but it was too late. She heard his door slam. She turned to Eve. "You believe me, right? If it was something big and I could tell you, you know I would right?"

Eve shrugged. "I'd like to think so, but I know where Shane's coming from. It's so hard always being out of the loop. Michael gets to know just about everything like with the bracelet and what Amelie has you doing and whatever the fuck happened. It just sucks for us, especially with me being Michael's girlfriend and Shane being your boyfriend, to always be the last ones to know." She got up to leave.

"Eve…"

"I know, I know. I'm a lot more understanding than your drama queen boyfriend, but it still sucks." With that, she left.

Claire felt tears gather in her eyes. She wanted to tell them, she wanted to tell them more than anything, but she just couldn't and she knew Michael wouldn't. This was all so hard and now her boyfriend and her best friend were pissed at her.

"Great. Just great." She muttered as she got up and went to see Michael. He was right where they said he'd be: angrily playing his guitar. As soon as she cleared the stairs, his eyes snapped to her and she got nervous. "H-Hey."

He stilled the strings and sighed. "Hi." They stared at each other for a while. "How are you doing?" Michael finally asked and Claire shrugged.

"As good as any girl whose relationships with her boyfriend and best friend are falling apart because of a secret she can't tell." She brushed angrily at the tears on her cheeks.

"So sorry Claire."

"It's not your fault: there was nothing you could've done." She sighed and settled into the couch closest to him.

"Yes I could've! What good is it to be a vampire if I can't hear things going on under my own roof right down the hall from me?" He seethed, gripping his guitar so hard it looked as if it would break.

"Don't beat yourself up over this, Michael. It didn't happen to you. I have to learn to live with what happened…whether I want to or not." She murmured and hugged herself. Michael stared at her for a long time with a blank face before suddenly throwing his guitar into it's case and standing. Claire jumped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Come on."

"What?"

"Come on." He held out his hand, waiting patiently for her to take it. She just stared.

"Where are we going?"

"You know where we're going."

"No. Where are we going?"

"To see Oliver."

She flinched at the mention of his name and stared at him, fear shining in her eyes. "I-I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Why not?"

"Because! I-I-I don't think I'm r-ready for that. I mean h-he was just here last night. I can't face him…not-not yet."

Michael sighed and knelt in front of her and touched her knee. "If not now, then when? Tomorrow? The day after tomorrow? Next week? Two weeks? Maybe in a month? What about a year from now?" Claire's mouth fell open but nothing came out. "Claire, I know it's hard for you to see him so soon after he…did that to you, but it's time. If you decide to wait the fear you have will just grow and you'll never want to face him and that's what he wants. He wants you to be afraid. He wants to have you scared so that you won't be able to face him or get in his way ever again. If you do, he wins. Do you want him to win?" Again, she was speechless but he was right.

She needed to go ahead and face her fear…face him. She was not going to let him rule her life and make her fear each day and night. She was not going to let him win. She shook her head and stood.

"Let's do this." She said with more certainty than she felt. Michael smiled and hugged her.

"I'll try my best to protect you." Claire buried her head in his chest.

"I know you will." I just hope it'll be enough.

Please R&R!
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