A/N: I'm going to try and keep this Author's Note fairly short.

As far as this chapter goes, not much happens. My main goal with this chapter was to establish the characters and certain traits that will be important later on. I think working with the characters is my favorite part of writing Fanfiction, especially when it comes to Kelley's characters. They are all so dear to my heart!

In a review I received, there was a question about Tori and Simon's relationship (specifically concerning whether or not they'd be siblings in my story). I debated this myself and was indecisive for quite some time, but I've come to the conclusion that they will NOT be related in any way in my story. Them not having that blood bond opens up many plot ideas that I may want to experiment with.

I'd just like to say thanks for all the kind reviews! They brighten my day!

As always, thanks for reading! (and, as always, I don't own the Darkest Powers trilogy.)

The birds chirped overhead, a song brimming with wistfulness and longing. A song that reminded me of my own mother's voice. A song that, regrettably, tugged me out of my deep slumber.

I opened my eyes, a sliver of light flooding the room. No. Not a room. I heard a slight humming in the background and felt the leather surface beneath my fingertips. I raised up. A car. I was lying in the backseat of a car.

Confusion swept over me. How did I end up here? The last I remember, I was falling asleep in the motel room, struggling to shove the previous day's events out of my mind. Voices echoed in my head. Tori and Simon's. Their argument as I was trying to get to sleep.

"I promise you. Chloe and I were just talking."

"That's a little hard to believe, considering you had your arm around her." Tori snorted. "So what? You were just telling her there were no ghosts out here waiting to snatch her soul? It was a 'reassuring gesture'?"

Simon sputtered a laugh. "Oh, I have a certain reassuring gesture reserved just for you."

He must've flashed her the finger because Tori gasped.

She quickly retorted. "You just love it, don't you? Going through girls like that?"

"I don't-"

"It's sick. And I don't want any part of it."

"You never were to begin with," Simon said coolly, but I swear I could hear Tori's heart breaking.

"You can have Chloe Saunders," Tori said, the pain edging into her voice.

"I-"

"You can have her," she spat. "She's a bitch and wants to steal everything that is mine. Always has. Abuse her all you want. I don't give a damn."

The memory faded and I'm back in the car, fighting the urge to bury my face in my hands and cry. No one has ever hated me before. I've always been the type of girl to just blend into the background, the type of girl that no one really thinks much about. Yes, I'm sure I had done things before that rubbed others the wrong way. But pure, venomous hatred? It stung.

Suddenly, the engine roared to life. The vibrations beneath my fingers began thumping, like a stereo blasting music too loud. I glanced around at my surroundings. Or should I say lack of surroundings. The car was idled at a stop on a seemingly endless road. There was nothing else. No trees. No pedestrians. Just the road, the car, and me.

Feeling the anxiety gnawing at my gut, I grabbed the handle on the door and pulled. It didn't budge. I yanked it harder. No such luck.

My blood turned to lead. I struggled to calm my racing heart, but didn't find any success. I pressed a sweaty palm into my forehead.

"Just breathe," I whispered to myself, demanding more than anything. Just breathe and think this through.

I let out a nervous laugh. Of course. Here I am, throwing things out of proportion, just like I always have. I'm sure everything is just fine and I'll be-

The car inched forward. I felt my heart jump into my stomach. Cars don't run by themselves.

The gas pedal squeaked and the car raced ahead, throwing me onto the floor. I rubbed my bumped head and then pulled myself up. Nausea hit me as the car zipped along the road. It was moving too fast. Way too fast.

Grabbing the back of the seat in front of me, I wiggled to the front, flopping down behind the steering wheel. As soon as all of the blinking buttons and many gears are before me, I mentally curse myself for never taking driving lessons. I cautiously wrapped my hands around the wheel and turned it to the left. The car rattles, like it just went over a speed bump, but the direction is not altered. To the right. Still the same. Angry and confused and fearing for my life, I stomped on the brake pedal. Nothing happens. The worry in the pit of my stomach grows, eating away all logic. This was bad. Really bad. Was this my last breath, my last thought, my last look at the world?

My mind's own high-speed chase came to a halt. What world? There was nothing here. My mouth dropped. That also meant that there was nothing for me to crash into. Did that... did that mean I would be stuck in this car forever? Racing along the highway, just waiting for death? No. I couldn't accept it. That seemed worse than death itself.

I pushed the strands of hair out of my face and took a couple of deep breaths. If I was to get out of this, I needed to think. The car was tearing down the road at an incredibly fast speed. It couldn't be stopped suddenly; it had to gradually slow down. I already tried the brakes and that didn't work. Apparently, everything inside the car is automatic and unresponsive. However, if an outside force was to alter the car's speed, then maybe, just maybe, I could get it to safely stop. But what object was there?

I closed my eyes and concentrated. Or at least tried to. Every time I thought I was making progress, my brain would flash up an explanation as to why my idea wouldn't be plausible. Every time I had assured myself I would figure it out and return unscathed, the voice in my head spoke up, scolding me for being so optimistic. Perhaps my own self, crushing any hope before it had even been found, was far more detrimental than my situation. Perhaps my negativity was as endless as the road itself, bending and shaping my words until they retained an entirely different meaning. Perhaps-

The car shook violently. A screeching noise erupted from the brakes, loud and piercing. The engine gurgled and spat. On instinct, I covered my head and squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the collision, any type of collision. It never happened. Besides my racing heart and fragile mental state, I was fine. After a moment, I raised up from my crouched position and looked around. The car was stopped in the middle of an intersection. Replacing the previous blank white canvas were trees and tiny shops and street signs. My heart dropped when I read one in particular. Kensington Avenue.

Before I had a moment to process what had happened, a whisper snaked around me.

"What are you going to do, Chloe?" it hissed. My eyes prickled with tears.

"L-leave me alone," I weakly muttered.

"Leave you alone?" A cackle. "But this is where it all begins."

My body shaked with sobs. "N-no, it's not. J-just please stop this. J-just please take me back to the motel. I don't want to be h-here."

I waited for a response. The air was still and quiet. The voice was gone.

I slammed my hands into the steering wheel. This was useless. There was nothing I could do to stop this. I was defenseless. Complete and utter defenseless.

Voices reverberated around me. I whipped my head around, searching. There. On a bench outside the pizza parlor. Two figures. One, slender and curvy. The other, large and wide. I squinted to make out the details of their appearance. Spiky dark hair on the lean one. A pair of bright green eyes on the second. My breathing hitched. Not just any green eyes. Derek's.

I tried not to let my relief swallow any common sense, but it was hard. Really hard. Derek was here and as much as I hated to rely on him, he could save me. I didn't mind being the damsel-in-distress if it meant delaying death.

"Derek?" I screamed. His head turned towards me and the mound of anxiety resting on my shoulders lifted. "Please. Please help me. Please open the door."

He stood up. My breath caught in my throat and I had to struggle to keep from bursting into tears. He checked the street for traffic, then dashed over to the car. He peered in through the window, eyes large and wide.

"Chloe?" His voice is full of concern. "Chloe, what are you doing here?"

"I-I don't know. I just need you to open the door so I can get out. Please."

He reached for the door handle, then stopped. His eyes met mine, searching. Something flashed in them, something I couldn't quite place, then his lips twisted upwards into a sardonic smile.

"No chance in hell."

"W-what?" All of the air rushed out of my lungs. Derek smirked at me one last time before heading across the street. I clawed at the door, screaming and hollering.

"No!" I cried out. "N-no, you don't understand. Come back. Something bad is going to h-happen to me. I need your help. Please."

He didn't look back. Not once.

I wailed, empty and deflated. Oh God, why hadn't he helped me? I knew he cared for me about as much as he cared for a piece of cardboard, but it's what any decent human being would do. I paused. Would he? I obviously made him angry yesterday. Would he be able to overlook that in order to save me?

A cackle. My head swerved, back in Derek's direction. I was too panicked before, but I could see her now. Tori. Lounging on the bench beside Derek. Pointing and laughing. The betrayal stung, numbing all of my senses, flooding my thoughts with ways I could've prevented this. If only I had been nicer. If only I had made an effort. If only-

A flash of light temporarily blinds me. Images come and go. Tori, wiggling her fingers in a wave. The stoplight above, lit up on red. And a navy Jeep, skidding across the intersection and crashing into me.

I shot up in bed, gasping for air. Eyes still closed, I reached for the ruby pendant around my neck, clutching it with clammy and shaky hands. It calmed my nerves for a moment, but I could still feel my heart beating at a rapid pace, could still feel the sweat trickling down the back of my neck. The nightmare tugged at the corners of my brain, threatening to pull me back in, and I had to struggle to force my way out of it. I opened my eyes, then immediately regretted it. Visions of wrecked cars and crushed bodies haunted the room and no matter how many times I blinked, they remained there, offering a chilling reminder of the horrid dream.

What exactly did I just dream? It seemed real. It felt real. The situation, the setting, the emotions, everything. It was like I could feel the terror building up, like I could feel the heartache and confusion, like I could feel the car breaking my bones and slicing me open and...

And that was enough of that. The stuffiness of the room bore down on me, making it even harder to breathe. I needed to go outside. Just a few minutes of solitude in order to clear my head. I slung my legs over the side of the bed and raised up, stretching. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a big heap lying on the floor. My heart started racing again, mistaking it for a limp body or a soul-snatching demon or anything else my nightmare-scarred brain could think of, but when I tiptoed over, I saw it was just Tori, curled up in a mound of blankets. A small twinge of guilt simmered in my gut. Was I the reason why she was sleeping on the floor? I knew there were only two beds, but I fell asleep anyway, not even bothering to ask if Liz or Tori wanted my bed. Was that selfish? Was this what Tori meant before- that I stole everything from her? It seemed absurd when I first heard it, but now I couldn't help but let the idea take root. I quickly shook my head, banishing my thoughts. No. I couldn't let myself feel sorry for Tori, not after everything she had done to me.

I stepped around Tori, careful not to wake her. I pushed opened the door and walked outside, sneaking away for a few gulps of cold air and maybe some peace and quiet and...

And there was Derek, all six-feet of him, sitting on the curb, clad from head-to-toe in black, fleeting into the darkness. He turned his head to the side at the sound of the door squeaking open and I knew he saw me. I stood still. There was a part of me that screamed, "Um, Chloe? In the nightmare you just had, he had no problem with witnessing your death. And let's not forget that you kind of just ticked him off yesterday. Do the math and run back inside while you still have the chance!" But I drowned it out, realizing that it'd be rude to leave after he already noticed me. And I might as well admit that I was tired of being seen as a coward.

"Can't sleep?" I said, shutting the door behind me.

He grunted in response and shifted, his face averted from view. Well, I thought. This was off to a great start.

I tried again. "Nightmares keeping you up? Let me guess. You're stuck in a car with Tori for 10 hours. A real pain once you wake up and realize it's not a dream."

"I wish it was," he grumbled and turned my way ever so slightly.

"Ahhh," I said, teasing. "So you can talk."

I got a glare for that one. As long as it was something. I wasn't wanting to become best friends with Derek, but it'd help clear my conscience if I tried being nicer.

"So..." I walked over and lowered myself on the curb beside him. "Why are you out here?"

He stared at me and arched his eyebrows. I scooted farther away, even though we were already two feet apart. He shook his head, lank hair swaying to the side, and I was about to get up when he cleared his throat.

"I wasn't feeling well."

The only thing I could think to say was, "Oh."

Way to go, Chloe. Tease him like he's scared of the dark when he is actually just sick. That's definitely how you'll land on his good side.

He coughed, the dry hack making me wince, then looked out over the parking lot, distant.

I scoffed. "I know. What a great view we have."

"You get what you pay for."

My stomach dropped as I remembered yesterday's events. "U-um, yeah, about that. I... I-I never..." A sigh. "I didn't mean to make you mad yesterday. When I paid for the rooms. I-I was just stressed, I guess. And a little angry myself. I apologize."

He snorted and turned his head. A few seconds go by and I'm waiting for something, anything. Just a "thanks" or a nod or some kind of acknowledgement. But it never comes. A core of burning anger engulfed my being.

"I'm trying to apologize and you don't even have the decency to pay me any respect?" I stood up, stare intensifying, anger boiling. "I'm sorry for trying to be nice. I really am. I won't make the same mistake again."

Finally, he spun my way, face twisted up in a pout of rage. "What do you want me to say? 'Don't apologize because it was my fault?' What you did was stupid and I'm not going to sugarcoat it."

A sarcastic laugh bubbled up. "Really? I had no idea." I shook my head. "I paid for the rooms because everyone was desperate and you were too stubborn to do it yourself."

"You think I refused out of stubbornness? I did it because we're on a budget and can't afford to waste money. Not everyone has a rich father to pamper them."

My lip curled up in disgust. "I worked for that money. My father's financial status had nothing to do with it."

He tore his gaze away, taken aback. After a second, he muttered, "Yeah, well, next time, let me handle our finances."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm not a drill sergeant, Chloe."

"Then why act like one?"

He blinked. "I'm not- I don't mean to-" An exasperated grunt. "I'm stressed and I'm sick and it's putting me on edge."

"That's not an excuse to snap at someone."

"I know," he grumbled and it made me wonder if he had already thought this through himself.

There was a part of me that yelled to go back inside. It kept getting louder and overwhelming and yes, it was tempting. Why should I stay out here? In the few conversations we've had, all Derek had ever done was ridicule me. He did it to everyone, but that didn't make him any less of a jerk for doing so. He hurt my feelings and I shouldn't sit here and give him the benefit of the doubt. But I wanted to. Maybe it was my eagerness to please, maybe it was my stubbornness, but I didn't want to go back inside. I didn't want to be rude and crass because that meant I'd be sinking down to his level. I didn't want to be friends. I didn't even care if we never talked beyond this. But I also didn't want to look back and say that I never made an effort.

So before my brain had time to process what I was doing- and had time to process the complete idiocy of it- my legs tugged me back towards the curb and plopped me down beside him. I didn't say anything. The silence was nice and definitely something I wasn't going to take for granted. Once the sun rose and so did my lovely companions, I'd have to kiss the peace and quiet goodbye.

Derek's voice- well, rumble- shattered my thoughts. "Do you always sleep in jeans?"

"Wha- oh!" I glanced down to see that I was still wearing my clothes from yesterday. "I was so eager to get to sleep that I must've forgot to change into my PJ's."

A snort, which I took to mean that he was in agreement. "I think we were all pretty anxious to get away for a while."

"Not Liz. If given the choice, she would've stayed in that car forever."

Derek gave me a puzzled look.

"Liz gets really excited over things like this," I explained. "I think it brings her some kind of strange satisfaction."

Derek curtly nodded. Then we lapsed back into silence again. I brought my knees up to my chest and huddled there, simply staring, gazing at the sparse trees lining the lot, lost in thought. I thought of Tori and my quarrels with her, of our destination and its agonizing distance, of the long times ahead of me. Then Derek coughed and my thoughts shifted to something else.

"When did you start feeling sick?"

His signature grunt, then he said, "This morning."

"This morning? And you still came on the trip?"

"Had to. I'm chauffeur."

"Ahhh," I said and snuck a quick glance at him. "Makes sense."

He glared at me.

"What? You and I both know you don't want to be on this trip."

He narrowed his eyes. "And you and I both know you don't want to be on this trip."

I was stunned by his remark, but attempted to brush it off with a light shrug. "Touché."

He looked away and... and there was the silence again. Peaceful? Yes. Rejuvenating? Most definitely. But I also had to admit that it was becoming quite frustrating. It seemed like every time we'd start a conversation, we'd fall back into it, both struggling to come up with something to say, but never finding it. I was about to make a lame remark about the weather when Derek suddenly stood up.

"I'm going back inside." He rubbed his neck, shoulders hunched. "I'll need all of the sleep I can get if I'm going to be driving to Charleston."

"Oh," I said and rose to my feet. "Okay."

He strode to his door, then stopped and turned to face me. "Chloe?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't mention me being sick to Simon."

I hesitated. "But-"

"Don't." He locked his green eyes with mine, stare intense even in the darkest of the night. "Don't tell him."

I nodded and watched as he disappeared into his room, quietly closing the door behind him.

I stood there, dazed. I didn't want to feel proud, but I did. Being on good terms with Derek quieted the voice that echoed in my head, one saying that it was wrong to heighten his animosity towards me. Settling our disagreement lifted a huge weight off my shoulders and I felt like I could finally breathe and relax. Well, at least until Tori woke up.

I glanced back at Derek's room one last time before heading into my own. I stepped around Tori, crawled into bed, and pulled the sheets up around me. With a heavy sigh and a rested mind, I fell asleep with a small sense of satisfaction.