A/N: So...Chapter nine? Who knew this fic would last this long, or that I could remain interested in it for this long =)

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WE have a few things to celebrate today! One thing is that this story has just passed ONE THOUSAND hits and I'm ever so happy:) Another thing to celebrate is the passing of the twenty reviews mark, another happy happy thing. And another thing to celebrate, although off-topic a bit, is the fact that I just became a certified Beta Reader for this site:) So...I kinda owe everything to you guys, who have been so encouraging and wonderful. I ruv you.

Thanks to...*Drum Roll*

xoxMissYummaliciousxox, Callie1121, magenta raspberry, Jaskuep, Mr Nobody, TheCheesePigeon, Sheepobsessed, VanessaTemple, HeyParaVersaLeafScence, xXxSecretSmilerxXx, Alex

For reviewing. I'd like to add more people to the list above =)

Disclaimer: I do not own Gone. The characters belong to Michael Grant, and used here for entertainment purposes only. If I did, I would not change a single thing about it. Perfect things are few and far between these days.

Chapter Nine

Into the Fire

And when you're in need of someone, my heart won't deny you...

...So many seems so lonely with no one left to cry to, baby...

...Don't you cry tonight, I still love you, baby, don't you cry tonight...

Astrid:

Astrid prided herself on being the type of person who never made rash actions. Thinking through every scenario and determining which option was the best was her way of making decisions. Thus, she never did anything without thorough examination and deduction.

Now, however, her calculative brain was confused and jumbled by the onslaught of emotions ravaging through her. The dominant emotion which underlined every aspect of her life at this moment was Fear. Astrid could admit she was afraid, for there were so many reasons to be experiencing this emotion that she was not shamed by the admission. She was afraid for Sam, that her fragile rescue plan will fail and he will die at the torturous hands (Well, hand and whip) of Drake. She was afraid that she would be caught, and Drake would finally be free to do to her as he wished. The thought made body cringe and her heart beat quicken dangerously against her ribs. The possibility of rape was incredibly real in her situation, and seeing as her plan was flimsy at best, she was virtually walking into the worst experience of her life.

But should she walk away now and abandon all hope of saving Sam, she may as well find the nearest bridge and walk straight off to her death, for she was sure she would not be able to live with herself. She could not imagine living with the burden of another loved one's blood smothered all over her hands. What she did to Little Pete had nearly killed her and she could not continue if someone else that she claimed to love died because of her.

Not that Sam's death would be directly because of her like Little Pete's was, she knew that. But her inaction would make certain of his death. Astrid knew that even if she had a wavering, slight chance of saving Sam, she would risk everything. She knew this because if there was one thing that was certain in this world, it was that Sam would do that same for her. Or at least he would have, in some point in the past. Thinking of Sam in this way made Astrid think of that last time they encountered each other. The last time they exchanged words in person, words filled with venomous poison fueled by hurt and resentment.

They stood five feet apart, eyes glaring into the others. Astrid willed herself not to cry, she would not give him that satisfaction. She could see he did not want to fight with her, just as she did not want to fight with him. So why did he pursue this so stubbornly?

"Sam...Why are you doing this?" Her voice was so filled with pain and resentment, it nearly tore him apart hearing it. How could she stay here, with him, when all he did was bring more sadness and grief into an already hard life for her? Could she not see she was better off without him? No, she couldn't. Because she loved him, she would never see that as an option. He had to do it himself. He had to be the hated one, the blamed one, the one who alienated himself from her. He would take all the blame and the guilt for her, for this had to be done. It was the least he could do for her, the only thing he could do for her now.

"I'm doing this because...god damn it, Astrid, this isn't right!" He spat his word at her exasperatedly, "We can pretend to be happy all our lives but it's just denying what's real! You know it as well as I do-"

"Like hell I do! You never talk to me about anything, how am I supposed to know what going on anymore?" Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence, one god-forsaken tear rolled down her cheek. She angrily wiped it away, refusing to show her weakness.

"Well, you should know! I shouldn't have to tell you how unhappy you are!"

"How unhappy I am? Don't you dare make this about me, Sam. Just admit it, you're a coward!"

"What did you say?"

"You're. A. Coward. You're afraid of moving on with life, you're like a child-"

"Stop it, Astrid..."

"You...can't let go."

There was a deafening silence for about ten seconds before Sam made his move. He went to the closet, using angry, violent gestures, he extracted a suitcase and made his way to the dresser. He began scooping up arm fulls of clothes at once and shoveling them into the luggage.

Astrid could he what he was doing yet, the scene seemed to surreal to her. Was he...Packing? Did he really have the nerve to...yes. He did. Then it hit her, he was leaving. She would be stuck in this unhappy place, alone with only the memories if he left her here. He would not get away with that. The anger pulsed through her body like nothing had ever before, to hot and powerful for her to contain.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm leaving." The anger, the frustration, it had been there just a minute ago, so where had it gone? His voice was so empty of all emotion, the fight had left him.

"Oh, no you're not." Astrid warned. He would not leave her, they had to talk about this, they could work this out.

"Then you leave." Did he really just say that? Was he that set upon abandoning all hope of recovery? Was there anything she could say or do that would make him reconsider?

"Astrid...I can't do this anymore. The fighting, I...I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of fighting and losing."

"So you're going to give up, just like that? This is so like you, you know-"

"Maybe. All I know is that this...can't go on any longer. Do you want to leave or shall I? I'll leave it up to you."

Just like that. Astrid could tell from his voice that he was dead serious. He was really giving her the option of who left the other? For 30 frozen seconds no one spoke. Sam refused to look at her, he kept his back turned. The anger coursing through her veins turned to dust at the reality of the situation. Numbness replaced it, she couldn't feel anything. The shock left her an empty shell. It was like time was frozen, waiting for her to answer the man she loved most...

"If anyone is leaving...It's me," Astrid said with finality.

"Fine. I'll go...out for a few hours then."

With that he grabbed his coat and left without another word. he didn't say anything else because he knew the situation was understood to both parties. He would return to his unhappy apartment later and find no one waiting for him. He would find an empty closet and a hole in his chest.

Astrid didn't say anything to him as he departed because she honestly had no words for this situation. He was...

Gone.

Poof.

Just like all the parents in Perdido beach seven years ago...he may as well be dead to her.

Astrid remembered that day with such clarity as if it had occurred just a few hours ago. She remembered she had sat down on previously her and Sam's bed, now just Sam's bed. She had sat there for almost ten minutes before realizing he would expect her gone by the time he got back. She had hastily thrown all her possessions into her car and left, afraid that he would return before she was gone. Had they run into each other again that night, Astrid was unsure whether or not she would be able to go through with it. But still, she didn't cry. She didn't cry until the next day when the shock wore off and gravity returned...

Sam:

Sam also remembered that day. Gods only knew how much he longed to go back, if only to see Astrid's face once more before...

Another whip lash came down across his shoulder. It was always the shoulders, or his arms. Or his back or legs. Never his face for some reason.

Drake cackled loudly. "I must admit it's fun to hit you when you so helpless and tied up but it was much more fun when you actually tried to fight back. Watching you struggle pathetically was fun, I don't suppose you'd indulge me and try to fight back a bit?"

Sam just lay on the ground, to exhausted and beaten up to have any chance of defeating his tormentor. But still, too stubborn to "Indulge" in his enemy.

"Fuck...you..." he gasped.

"No, I don't think so. No offence but your not my type, Sammy," That disgusting laugh again.

"That Blondie of yours though...that's a different story. If she looks anything like she did all those years ago...I don't know how long she's gonna live after she gets here, with what I'm planning,"

"You bastard...you touch her and I swear I'll-"

"You'll what, Sammy? Tell me exactly what you are going to do if I touch her? What can you do to stop me, huh?"

"Just...this," Sam flipped over so that he was facing Drake and let out as much of his power as he had in him. Not enough, not quick enough...Drake had his tentacle twisting his arms before Sam could even aim. Sam could feel his arm twist, so hard it felt like it was going to break. He wished it would just break and be over with it, but the tentacle wasn't applying enough pressure. Drake wasn't doing this to inflict damage, only pain.

"Now that's more like it. Fight, Sam, fight back! Fight me!"

Sam stopped his struggle. He would not give Drake the satisfaction of doing what he ordered.

"You lost your spunk that quickly? No wonder she left you..."

Sam didn't move at this provocation. It was taking all of his self control not to but he would not play into this game.

"No reaction, huh? It's just as well. Play time is over, I have preparations I need to attend to so, nighty night, Sammy. I'll wake you when your dearly beloved arrives!"

Drake swung his tentacle, a perfect angle, knocked Sam out cold.

Santa Barbara:

An ordinary southern California bungalow house. An ordinary porch. An ordinary cup of tea, steaming on the table. An ordinary cigarette, burning between the fingers of Lana Arwen Lazar, a not-so-ordinary twenty two year old chain smoker.

It was a nice afternoon, the sun was out making pleasant shadows on her wooden porch. The cool sea breeze reached her, keeping her cool from the heat of the afternoon while the patio roof kept the glaring sun out of her eyes. The air smelled fresh, the atmosphere lightened by the collection of tropical plants she had somehow managed to keep alive. Lana never thought she would actually be the "Potted plants" type, but when the FAYZ ended and she moved into her Bungalow (Courtesy of her post-FAYZ funds), Lana had been bored out of her mind with peaceful living she had quickly found ways to keep her busy. One of which was taking care of said tropical plants. She liked the fanning leaves of the palms, and the exotic, cheerful sight of the orange flowers which she still had to remember the name of. They reminded her of someone.

Speaking of someone, Lana checked her phone- which had been previously resting peacefully on the oak table before the rather rude interruption. No new messages. No missed calls. Rather dismal, but she had no one to blame but herself. She knew that she had to be the one to call him first, that he would not call her. Everyday she wanted to call him, but Lana was more of a coward than she lead on. It had been months, what could she say? What if he didn't want her back after all this time? She could hardly blame him, really.

She had been staring idly at the small contraption in her hands for a few minutes before the LED screen lit up and that obnoxious ring tone filled the otherwise quiet summer air. She had tried ever since she got the blasted electronic to change that irritating noise to something less annoying but apparently Lana Arwen Lazar, great Oh mighty healer, was completely technologically illiterate. Sanjit had no problem with things like that, he would often help her get her phone and computer set up when she got confused with the wires and options. But then again, Sanjit always seemed to do everything he could to help Lana whenever she needed it...

The call display showed a number Lana didn't recognize. She had no patience for wrong numbers or sales people-or people in general- so she hit the ignore button and casually tossed the phone back to it's resting spot on the table. She sat back into the chair and took another long drag from the cigarette.

Maybe she should call him...? Lana couldn't deny that she loved (Even though the word was rather sickening in her opinion) Sanjit. Maybe it was time to let the past go and start fresh. She wanted for him to forgive her and for the flame to be ignited once more. Maybe it was time to get over this childish fear and-

Rrrrriiiiinnng!

Lana picked up the phone again, and upon seeing the same number that had just called, she decided she was quickly getting pissed off. And that ring tone, so irritating, like little drills operating inside her ear drums...

"What?" That coming out a little harsher than intended but whatever...

"Caine? What the fuck do you want? And how in the hell did you get this num...My help? What makes you think I'd ever help you, jackass...What do you mean, 'taken by Drake' ? Both of them? Are they still...oh. That changes things...I don't know. I'm not a fighter, you should know...Wow, you must really have your heart set on this to say please to me. Okay, I'll do it."

Sam:

Drifting...The world of dreams is truly a spectacular place. You can see anyone you want to. Say the person you want to see most. They can be there for you, so close...All Sam wanted was to see Astrid.

She was here, talking to him. But he wasn't afraid, for this was just a dream.

"Sam..." she was saying. Her voice was so far away, as if she were speaking to him in a different place in time. But she was right there, next to him...

"Sam, it's me. I'm here, finally."

Sam wanted to reply to her, but the words were evading him.

"Sam, god fucken damnit, wake up!"

Sam woke up. How can a dream wake you up? It didn't make any sense...Unless...

Sam jolted as soon as he opened his eyes. His dream was materializing right before his very eyes. The woman he had missed so much was kneeling in front of him, looking at him with those rich blue eyes so full of fear.

Wait...Astrid was here.

No.

"NO!" He gasped. She couldn't be here, Drake was here, Drake, Astrid, need, run...

"It's okay, I'm going to get us out of here," she whispered to him softly but hurriedly.

"No, Astrid. You can't be here-You need to run, now!" Why couldn't she understand? "Leave me, go please Astrid!"

"I'm not leaving without you," she said stubbornly and returned to the task of undoing the knot of rope trying Sam's arms to his chest. "Once I get there knots undone, you can blast the rest of the ropes with your power and we will make a run for it, understand?"

"Astrid, please..." He begged her, pleaded. He would do anything for her to just abandon him here and now.

"You're the one tied up in this equation, Sam. I'll be making the decisions and I decide to get both of us out of here and you won't say anything to the contrary. Because I won't leave without you."

A single tear fell down that perfect cheek.

"If you love me, leave me."

"If you love me, you'll understand how I can't do that." More tears fell as she desperately yanked at the knots with little success. Something caught Sam's eye...

"Astrid, he's behind you-RUN NOW!"

Whack!

"Welcome home, Bitch!"

A/N: Yeeea...I'm evil, I know.

So someone, an anonymous reviewer, told me to write the one-shot about Caine/Diana in this fic. And that one anonymous person was enough to convince me, so I shall begin to write their story although I won't be able to post it until the end of this fic since it will have spoilers of the ending.

I am looking for new story ideas...Got any?

Review. I like them better than...I just really like them.