Voices came in snatches through the drifting dark.

"...said Caleb... not telling me?!"

"...friend... close... just confused... help.."

"...hiding somethi... little runt!"

Movement, struggle, a choked cry. Through the fog, it stirred anger.

"...dead..."

"...what?"

"Caleb's DEAD!"

The shout ripped through him, shook his wounded mind deeply.

Dead...

I'm dead...

Sinking deeper still, to somewhere earthy and dank.

A smile, fleshless, in the dark.

"... hello again..."

With a strangled cry, he jerked up, throwing his hand out in front of him, and immediately crumpled over as the world crushed in, heavy and loud - rustling blankets, a startled gasp, then a voice, anxious yet relieved.

"R! R, you're okay, I'm here," the voice said, a girl... familiar. "Relax... you're okay.."

A cool hand on his forehead - wonderful and soft, he pressed into it because it felt so good. Who was that speaking? His head felt broken, his mind a scattered mess...

He opened his eyes slowly, but shut them quickly again. Too much light.. it hurt.

"Rowan? Hey..."

Rowan? Something about that was important.

"Rowan, please look at me." The voice was warm, and pulled him like his favorite song.

Slowly, very slowly, he opened his eyes.

The girl sat by the side of the bed, looking at him with eyes puffy with tears and anger and worry. Her face was darkly bruised, her blonde hair drawn up in a tight bun, and she was wearing a long dress of plain blue.

His gaze was drawn to the room around them. Pale yellow light from the windows behind her filled the room wanly, dully illuminating furnishings that were old and dusty. Reading glasses sat on the bedside table, next to a book, laying face down. Charles Dickens.

He did not recognize this place. His eyes flicked back to the girl, and he felt lost.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"R?" she said quietly, her brows drawn in.

R.. Something about that was important too.

"What's your name?" she asked, her eyes growing terribly sad.

The question was simple, but nothing came up. Fear lapped at the edges of his mind.

"What's my name?" the girl asked, her eyes growing wide.

His mind wasn't offering anything. He felt empty and disconnected, like wires had fallen loose somewhere, from something important.

"Oh Rowan..." the girl said plaintively, and her eyes welled with tears. "Why don't you remember..."

She dropped her head to her hands, and her tears turned to weeping.

It pulled at his heart, and he leaned forward again, drawn to her.

She was important to him. She was... everything to him.

He slowly drew his legs from the bed, and carefully, gently, he folded his arms around the girl, drawing her to him, squeezing her close.

Her cries grew longer, deeper, and she squeezed him desperately back, burying her face in his chest.

He pressed against the soft skin of her neck, drawn by her scent, by her warmth. His lips trembled there, then pulled back from his teeth as he drew in her taste.

She stiffened against him. "R..?"

He held her, possessively, knowing he needed her, knowing he would never let her go.

"Rowan... please," she said quietly, and she pressed her hands against his chest, trying to push him off.

He pulled back then, dazzled by their closeness, by the tears dew-like on her lashes, by the spice of her scent, the heat of her skin.

The girl looked up at him, and a smile played hesitantly at her lips, even as she pressed a hand against his chest.

He grasped that hand in his own, as he smiled back to her.

Then he lunged forward and bit into the warm, soft skin of her throat.

She did not have time to scream, as he tore the gristled tube free in a gush of hot blood, and dived in deeper, gnawing up to the little bone that floated, as she gurgled and bucked and slammed at his head, clawing at his eyes.

But that was okay, he didn't need them, and he drove deeper still, through to the jagged bones at the back of her neck as her arms twitched at her sides then hung still, and he pressed further up, his face smothered in a river of blood as his teeth sought and freed the thick mass of muscle in her jaw that she'd used to say that name so wonderfully... that name that was important...

The name... Rowan.

"Rowan."

Sighing, he pulled back, blood dripping from his jaw, feeling truly satisfied for the first time in a very long time. Julie's vacant eyes stared up at nothing, her jaw hung open, torn and blood-soaked, her throat was a ruin.

"Rowan?"

He blinked. How was she making a sound if she had no tongue?

"Rowan!"

A raw scream ripped from his throat as Rowan woke, jerking away, eyes wide, from the sound of her voice... Julie's voice... beside him. The bed.. oh god the same bed!... ensnared him in a cocoon of sheets and blankets, and he thrashed against it, as Julie stared at him in shock, lit by the wan yellow light of a single lamp...

...on a bedside table, with reading glasses and a book laid flat and open.

Dickens.

"Rowan! It's okay!" Julie cried, reaching for him.

"NO!" he screamed, flinching from her touch, and scrambled desperately away from her, falling off of the other side of the bed entangled in sheets, only dimly aware of his body's complaint at the sudden motion.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck..." he whispered, and curled up into himself then, horrified, saturated still by the scent of Julie's blood, the sounds she'd made as he'd eaten her life away, his face buried in her neck.

Jesus... CHRIST!

"Rowan? What's wrong!?" she called to him, and he heard her moving around the side of the bed.

"NO!" he roared at her with wild eyes, pulling back into the far corner of the room as his hand jerked up defensively. "DON'T COME NEAR ME!"

She stopped in place, her eyes wide and afraid, and a rational part of him realized she wasn't wearing the horrible blue dress from his dream, just shorts and a pale blue t-shirt, her arm properly set in the new cast and sling. Her hair hung in a gold cascade around her pale face.

Not the same... not the same.. not going to hurt her.. oh god

"R," Julie said gently, wincing as she held out her good hand, "It's okay, you're alright, this is-"

"STOP CALLING ME R!" he snapped at her angrily, "I'm not dead anymore! Stop calling me that!"

Julie stiffened, looking as if she'd been slapped, and her hand fell down by her side.

His heart sank as he saw how much he'd hurt her. "I... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I just... oh god..." he stammered, and squeezed his eyes closed, wrapping his arms around his head. The dream hung around him still, pinned to the real world by the terrifyingly similar room, the book, the glasses on the beside table...

God, why would he have a dream like that? Where had it come from? The last time that'd happened, he'd been back in the hospital in the city... the dark thing had said it was... a gift...

A chill passed through him like a ghost as he remembered the skeletal smile in the dark. But he shook his head frantically to himself. It wasn't like before... that thing couldn't reach him anymore, they'd defeated it...

Just a nightmare, that's all.. just a horrifyingly real nightmare...

"Rowan," came Julie again, closer, her voice breaking, "Please... talk to me..."

He raised his head sharply, and winced as it throbbed wickedly with the motion. She was coming closer still, and he pushed away against the wall, because she was starting to cry, and he couldn't.. do... what he'd done...

"Please.. stop," he whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."

Her eyes widened again, as a tear wended its way down her cheek. "Why would you hurt me?"

Rowan dropped his head to his knees.

Because I just tore your throat out in my dream... and it felt... oh fuck... At the thought, his throat closed up, and he wrapped his arms tight around his head again.

Would he ever be fucking free of this? He'd been doing so well, going to that group with M, he'd come to terms with what he'd done... there'd even been a single day - a whole day about a month ago - where he hadn't thought about the fact that he'd killed people, that he'd been dead, where not a single memory ambushed him, where he was wonderfully just Rowan. It was huge.

Then they got stuck in this horrible place. He was falling back down... he'd killed someone else. Now he was dreaming of killing. The one person he would never, should never, hurt... and had, so many times.

The bruises on her face were mottled dark.

Rowan's throat tightened further still, and he swallowed against a sudden swell of despair.

A warm hand folded gently over his own as it clenched in his hair.

"No, Julie, god.. don't..." he whispered, and curled in further, though his stomach stabbed him in protest.

Her hand drifted down, to cradle the back of his head, and rested there, warm and soft.

Rowan loosed a shuddering breath, and his hand shifted slightly, edging towards Julie's. Their fingers touched, tentatively, then urgently laced together, and another breath left him, shaking.

"I'm sorry," he said desperately, "I'm sorry."

Julie sighed. "I know."

She sank beside him, rested her head on his shoulder, and started to cry.

Rowan opened his eyes under his arms and took a deep breath. He couldn't let a dream do this to him. To them.

Uncurling slowly, his nerves jangling, he turned and wrapped his arms around her gently, then pulled her close, being mindful of her ribs and arm. She stiffened slightly at the motion, watching him with hurt eyes, then relaxed, resting her head against his chest. And there she shook, sobbing quietly, as he pressed his chin against her head and slowly stroked her back.

His nerves unwound, and his body's aches and pain slowly drifted away as they held each other.

"Never should have yelled at you," he said softly down to her. "I had a horrible nightmare... scared the shit out of me."

Julie nodded slightly against him, and didn't say anything for a little while.

"Was it about me?" she finally asked, in a very soft, flat voice.

He sighed. "Yes."

"You attacked me."

She wasn't asking.

He didn't answer, just nodded against her head, then his eyes roamed the room, desperate for a distraction.

"Julie... where are we?"

She didn't take the bait. "You were dead again? Like in the hospital dream?"

Rowan sighed again, heavily. What could he say? He wasn't dead. But what did that mean? What the hell would have brought something like that out of him?

"I don't really want to talk about it anymore."

"And you don't want me to call you R anymore."

He looked down at her, but she wouldn't meet his eye.

"Shouldn't have snapped about that. I'm sorry Julie, you call me anything you want."

"I don't want to call you R if it bothers you, Rowan."

"It doesn't really bother me..." he said, and struggled to find the right words, "It just... reminds me sometimes of what I was before."

She looked down at her hands, and he quickly sought to reassure her. "But it's a part of me. It's a part of us. It just hit me bad because of the dream."

Julie gave him a sour smirk. "Because you killed me in it?"

Wincing, he made a small noise of irritation and looked away.

"Was I tasty?"

He frowned deeply at her. "That's not even remotely funny."

"Nothing that's happened lately has been remotely funny Rowan," she said with a sigh. "I've got to find the humor in something, or I'm just going to start crying and never stop." She pulled away then, and winced as she rose to her feet. "I do too much of that as it is."

Rowan watched her, his heart aching. He wanted desperately to make her feel better, but he had no idea what to say... his own hope was in short supply.

Then a moment came to him. A moment by an ocean.

"I'd rather talk about the dream I had of you the other morning," he said, a soft smile spreading on his face. "Now THAT was a good dream."

Julie turned and raised an eyebrow. "Why? Wait.. you tried to tell me about it, up on the hill, and you had the same goofy grin on your face that you do now."

"It was a good dream," he said. "We were on the beach. The sun was warm, breeze was cool." He paused, his grin growing wider. "You were sexy."

She laughed then, and he felt a flush of relief. It was really good to hear her laugh.

"I was sexy, huh?"

"Very," he answered emphatically. "Couldn't keep my hands off you."

Julie giggled and slowly sat on the corner of the bed. "That sounds nice." She sighed then, and looked away at nothing. "God, I haven't been to the beach for ages."

Holding his stomach, Rowan got to his feet, and walked over to sit beside her. "It was amazing. The sun was just going down, everything was gold. Salt in the air, soft white sand, waves sparkling in the sun."

Leaning against him, Julie smiled. "Wow... I want to go there now."

Rowan brushed his lips against her hair. "When we get back, we'll go to the beach, first chance we get."

"When we get back," Julie echoed hollowly.

He looked down at her, then shifted to catch her eye. "Yeah, when we get back. They're coming to find us Julie, you know that right?"

She shook her head. "No, Rowan, I don't know that. You heard what Joshua said - there's no plane for them to find. They don't know we're here."

"Julie," he said softly, feeling terribly sad that she had so little hope. "Someone might have seen it that first day, they're just having trouble getting to us."

When she looked up at him, he found himself looking away, as if he didn't quite believe what he'd said. Letting out a sigh, he waved his hand at the room. "Still don't know where we are."

Julie's mouth grew thin. "Joshua said it was the doctor's home. That it's ours now." She gave a tiny shrug. "Apparently their doctor died. Kinda morbid to take his house. I mean, all of his stuff is still here. Guess it makes sense, since they see you as the..."

Her voice trailed off but he barely noticed.

Oh god...

Everything around him belonged to the man he'd killed. The book on the nightstand, opened to the page he must have been reading that day, the closet of clothes that the man would never wear again.

"Fuck," he whispered, and stood up quickly.

"Rowan?" Julie asked, watching him. "What's wrong?"

"I have to get out of here... it's my fault Julie," he said quickly, and headed to the doorway, still clutching his bruised stomach.

"What? What's your fault? Rowan, please don't walk away... I can't take that anymore."

He stopped, his hand on the knob. Then he pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the door and closed his eyes.

"I killed him Julie," he said in a whisper-thin voice.

"I can't hear... hold on." Julie pushed up from the bed with a sharp breath and walked over, resting her hand in the small of his back. She rubbed there gently with her thumb. "What did you say?"

"I killed the doctor," he said quietly, and swallowed hard.

Julie's thumb stopped its slow circling.

"Rowan..." she said softly, shocked. "Why?"

He squeezed his eyes tight with the memory. "It was an accident. Didn't mean for him to die. He was trying to kill me, trying to put me to sleep so I wouldn't wake up again."

Julie squeezed his side. "What?!"

Rowan turned his head slightly to look at her. "He knew I'd killed Caleb, he knew I'd been a corpse. He offered to save me from what they do to the dead here, but I think..." He sighed. "I think he was angry at me too."

Lacing her fingers through his, Julie leaned against him, her eyes lined in pain. "Rowan... that's horrible, I'm so sorry."

Nodding, he looked down at their hands. "Yeah. He almost succeeded. Joshua ended up saving my life."

Julie blinked. "Seriously?"

He nodded at her. "He was just saving Caleb. Same reason he..."

Rowan let it trail off. He'd been about to tell her about his ankle. But that wouldn't serve any purpose except to make her even more horrified. He was so done with horror right now.

Julie frowned. "Same reason he what?"

"Nothing," he answered, and shrugged lamely. Then he glanced around the room again. "Can't stay here right now Julie, I need some air."

She tried to cross her arms. "What aren't you telling me?"

Rowan smirked thinly. "Something that won't help anything, okay? Just... I need to get outside?"

Her eyes were sharp for a moment, then slowly softened. "You do what you need to do, just eat something first? You've been unconscious all day."

It suddenly occurred to Rowan that the world outside the windows was black. It'd been morning when he'd gone out to face Samuel.

Jesus.

His head felt fragile, and ached terribly, and his gut felt like... well, a punching bag. Turning his attention to his body was a bad idea, everything amplified, and his stomach growled as the need to pee hit him in a sudden rush.

"Oh crap, uh..." he mumbled, and bouncing back and forth, quickly opened the door, heading out into the dimly lit hallway, where he tried the next door down. Thankfully, it was the bathroom.

But... he knew that. Somehow. And it wasn't until he was groaning in relief over the bowl and staring at the stack of books beside the bathtub, the painting on the wall at his side, that he realized he'd been here before, staring into that painting, too many times to count. It'd always puzzled him, what the girl was doing at the bottom of the hill, staring up at the grey house like that, where the crows were flying, as if they'd just been startled.

She looked like she'd just turned her head too, turned to look up at the house, at the crest of the hill.

He'd always wondered... what was happening on the other side of the hill? What noise had made her turn? He'd asked the Doc a couple of times, but the man had just given a small smile and told him to use his imagination.

So he did, he imagined walking up that hill, up to the bleached grey walls of the house, with its sharp shadows and the whispering rush of spooked crow's wings, and he imagined looking over the hill.

But all he ever saw was darkness.

Glancing away, he winced at the sharpening ache in his head and felt the warm trickle of something on his upper lip.

Bringing his hand up, he was shocked at the sudden vivid smear of red across his fingers.

A bloody nose? What the hell?

Wrapping up, he turned quickly to poke his head out the door, and gasped at a sudden wrenching pain in his abdomen.

"Ow.. what... hey Doc?" he called out to towards the living room, "My nose is bleeding, can you take a look?"

He'd expected the creak of the sofa chair springs and the answering voice of Doc Adams, but instead heard the soft voice of a woman.

"Oh no."

Frowning, holding his stomach, he moved into the hallway and out in the living room, and standing in the opening to the kitchen, was...

Caleb staggered back, as memories shifted inside his head at the sight of Julie.

The truth hit him hard as everything settled into place. Doc Adams wasn't going to answer. Ever. He was dead. Caleb's closest friend was dead. For some reason he'd forgotten that, but then everything felt loose inside his head. Why was that?

A foggy memory of his father standing over him as he slipped away, came and went, and he stared around the house, trying to piece moments together.

But it was futile. Half of his moments were Rowan's.

Julie was just watching him, absolutely frozen, her mouth lopsided and thin. Briefly, her eyes flicked to his mouth, and he knew she could see the blood. The telltale sign that he'd taken over.

"Caleb."

Ignoring her, his heart drowning in his chest, he walked slowly over to the cabinet against the far wall of the living room and picked up the plainly framed photo of Doc Adams with him and Joshua. Sitting with bright smiles and ice cream cones, on a picnic bench by the lake. Such an old picture, and one of the happiest moments of his life. The Doc had taken them both on a camping trip, away from Samuel, away from the town, over to Clear Lake. Caleb wasn't sure how the Doc had managed it, spending time outside of their community was frowned on, but somehow he'd convinced their father it was the thing to do, and those had been the most amazing days.

Smiling, he ran his - Rowan's - thumb over the Doc's image, and started to feel a rush of tears.

"You were close?" Julie asked.

He looked up. She was still standing in the doorway, just watching.

Ignoring her again, he moved to the corner of the room, to the big old radio the Doc loved tinkering with, and reached behind it. For the Doc's old guitar.

And at that moment the door opened, and in walked Joshua.

Caleb straightened and gave his brother a smile. "Hey, Josh." The smile dropped as his brother turned to him. "What happened to your face?"

"Caleb?" Joshua's voice was as surprised as he looked. "What... how'd you come up?"

Caleb shrugged, then winced at the ache in his gut from the motion. "Dunno. Guess 'cause I know this place so well." He gestured to his brother's face. "Someone hit you?"

"Nevermind," Joshua sighed. With a quick glance at Julie, he walked over to Caleb. "How're you feeling?"

"Sore," Caleb answered, and felt the back of his skull gingerly. "Head feels real tender." Looking down, he lifted his shirt and let out a startled noise. "Look at this!" Pressing against the bruised skin of his abdomen, he looked up at his brother in shock. "What the heck, Joshua? Who'd Rowan pick a fight with?" Then he blinked. "You? Did you fight?"

Joshua shook his head. "No Caleb, we didn't fight."

"Then... no, hold on, I remember... dad? Leaning over me? What was that about... he... he..." Caleb swallowed hard. "He was angry, Josh, real mad."

Joshua placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Don't think about that right now Caleb. Look, I prom-"

Caleb sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes grew wide. "Joshua, I told him I was Caleb, oh Lord above, I didn't mean to, but I was so afraid..."

His brother squeezed his shoulder. "It's okay Caleb, I cleared it up."

"How?"

"You- I mean Rowan, had been hit on the head so many times, I just said you were real confused. That you'd been Caleb's close friend, that you'd been there when... Caleb died."

The words hit Caleb funny, and he stared down at the ground. "Don't like hearing you say that."

"I know, brother. Now, as glad as I am to see you, and not Rowan, you need to get him back."

Caleb frowned. "But I just got here!"

"I know, I know. But I promised him he would have the day and night with Julie," he flicked his hand her way. "He did something hard today, and I owe him. You owe him."

"I don't owe him anything," Caleb spat, glaring over at Julie.

"Yes, you do," Joshua said firmly, squeezing his shoulder again. "Has to do with the beating he got, Caleb. He kept you from it, and we owe him for that."

Caleb rolled his eyes, "He didn't keep me from it - I'm feeling it now, and I sure as heck felt it when dad was looming over me."

"That wasn't Rowan's fault, Caleb. Now, please, do this for me? And I'll see you tomorrow?"

Caleb stared at Joshua for a long moment, angry. It wasn't right, having to share with Rowan. He needed to work out how to access the memories the kid was using, work out how to do the medical stuff on his own.

Then they'd never need Rowan again.

And he could stay Caleb all the time.

"Please?" His brother's eyes were deeply apologetic, and worried too, and the bruises on his face brought back some ugly flashes from Caleb's childhood.

Dad. Dad had probably hit him. And maybe... that's who hit Rowan too.

So maybe he did owe him.

With a heavy sigh, he finally lowered his head.

"Fine."

Then he squeezed his eyes closed, and giving a small grunt, held his hand up by his nose.

And pretended.

Because Rowan could just wait.

It was an impressive performance. He blinked in confusion, glared at his brother like he hated him, and then he did the worse thing.

He swore.

It'd always been absolutely forbidden growing up, and any references to swear words in any book he'd ever seen had been blocked out in thick black marker.

Except for doc's books. Doc had hidden some of his books, to save them from being marked, and Caleb had found a small stash of them in the attic when he'd helped his friend move an old cabinet. Doc had protested at first, then gave in, and let Caleb come read the books whenever he wanted to. He'd absorbed a whole bunch of swear words then, and incredible stories about people, struggling to live, struggling to do right, pursuing dreams and failing, but never giving up, and he started seeing outside their town with those stories, and started dreaming about the world. About the city the doc talked about only when they were alone, and made him promise not to share with anyone else.

People struggled, and people swore in the city too, when he finally got there. He'd tried to fit in by using the same words, but it always made him feel shameful and wrong. And now was no different.

But, he had to hide that, had to act like he swore all the time, because that's what Josh had said about Rowan - the kid never stopped swearing.

So he stared his brother down, he walked back towards Julie, holding his arm out protectively, because that seemed like something Rowan would do...

... and he told his brother to get the hell out.

Joshua didn't go immediately. He actually came and said thank you, for 'keeping Caleb away from it', and Caleb almost screwed up then, almost asked him 'away from what'? before he clamped his mouth shut, and gave a quick little nod, still glaring, still angry. But inside, his brother's concern for him made him feel real good.

He almost jumped when Julie's fingers closed around his own, and had to fight not to pull his hand away quick. Instead he held on, watched his brother's eyes dart to their joined hands and saw something interesting pass in that gaze, before Joshua gave a small smile, and walked out the door.

Caleb watched him until his brother disappeared into the darkness beyond the porch, then he straightened, letting out a heavy breath.

Julie moved to his side, and squeezed his hand.

"You okay?" she asked.

He turned to look down at her, at her eyes filled with worry, then past her to their folded hands.

Then he smiled, and she smiled, and the whole thing struck him as so funny, he started to giggle. Then he had to stop, because his stomach hurt too much.

The effect on Julie was immediate, as the smile slid from her face and her eyes grew wide and spooked.

"Oh god," she whispered, and she started to back away.

"What's wrong?" he said in a lilting tone, and then he laughed, because it was still so very funny, and it hurt a lot, but he laughed anyway, and Julie looked at him in horror as she wrenched her hand away.

That made him angry.

She made him angry. The laughter fell from him as he stared at her bruised face, her puppy dog eyes, at the anguish he could feel rolling from her as she stood there watching him, when he was so clearly not who she thought he was.

Not Rowan.

That's what made him angry. She loved the monster who'd torn his throat out. Who'd killed him in a garbage strewn alleyway. She loved him.

"Why?" he asked suddenly, his thoughts spilling from his mouth. He didn't understand it at all. "Why do you love him?"

Julie's face grew more haggard, and she looked away as a tear spilled down her cheek.

That annoyed him more. Caleb moved towards her and she quickly stepped back, her eyes snapping to him. Fearful and angry.

"I don't get it," he said. "He killed people. He's a monster. Why are you with him?"

Another tear spilled down her cheek as she looked up at him. "Rowan... listen to yourself. This is just like Jack. Please... remember who you are!"

Caleb frowned. "Jack?"

"Yes," she answered, stepping towards him then, perhaps feeling as if she were reaching him. "The medic?"

His eyes grew wide. "The medic? Jack's the doctor?"

Julie nodded, though she looked uncertain now, "You got lost in him Rowan, just like now, you're lost in Caleb. But it's still YOU Rowan. You're not Caleb, you just think you are."

Her words washed over him and away, as his mind turned over what she'd said about the medic.

This was perfect. If he could just access Jack's memories, he'd be the doctor, and Rowan could be shoved behind the wall, and forgotten.

A smile stretched on his face, and Julie echoed it, her eyes flicking back and forth between his own.

Searching for Rowan.

He felt a little sorry for her then, as she stared up at him hopefully. What would happen to her, when he took over? Then he remembered how Joshua had looked at them before he'd left, and it all made perfect sense.

"Joshua likes you," he said, still smiling. "He'll marry you when Rowan's gone."

Julie looked as if she'd been slapped. "What?"

"Once I can use Jack's memories, then I'll be the doctor. We won't need Rowan anymore." He watched as her face grew in shock, and felt a tug of pity. "I'm sorry, Julie, but that's just the way it is."

"You can't do that," she whispered, as her eyes grew angry again. "I won't let you."

Caleb blinked and gave a quick laugh. "You won't let me? How're you gunna stop me?!"

"Like this," she said.

And she kneed him hard in the groin.

Caleb shrieked as he was blasted by an agony that stole his breath, obliterated his thoughts, and he crumpled to the ground cupping himself with a moan.

Suddenly Julie was in his face, and before he could pull himself out of the pain and react to stop her, she'd pressed her lips against his, urgently, deeply.

"I'm sorry Rowan, I'm so sorry," she said in a rush as she pulled away from the kiss, stroking the hair from his forehead. "I had to get close enough to bring you back."

He groaned again, trying to pull up from the pain.

"I could get some ice? Would that help? God, I'm sorry."

"G-going... to.."

"What?" Julie asked, still cradling his face and searching his eyes. "Going to what?"

His brows curled in anger as the pain slowly settled to a level where he could move, and he struggled to get his arms under him.

"Oh shit," Julie squeaked, and tried to jerk away from him, but he made a grab for her, latching his hand on her sling.

"Going to... kill you," he growled, beyond thought with rage, and hissing in pain he got to his knees, snatching out for her other arm.

"No! Oh god!" Julie cried, struggling and kicking as he pulled her in, and closed his hand over her throat.

Eyes wide with terror, she sucked in a breath to scream again, and he squeezed hard, cutting off her cry.

"You DARE touch me! You DARE do that THING!" he yelled, squeezing harder with both hands as she gurgled and thrashed beneath him, clawing at his fingers, his arm. Unable to reach his face, she kicked uselessly as he pinned her down.

"You don't DO THAT!" he roared, shaking her hard as her eyes bulged, her mouth stretched soundlessly wide, and her free hand twisted frantically in his shirt.

Only after she stopped fighting and grew still, her arm falling from his shirt and sliding heavily to the floor, did the rage slowly fall away from him. With an irritated sound, he gave her one final shake, then finally let her go, expecting her to gasp, to scramble away from him yelling and cursing.

But she didn't.

She didn't move at all. She just looked up at him, through him, her eyes wet with tears that weren't going anywhere.

Something inside him was howling.

"Hey," he said, trying desperately to hold the howling thing back. "Julie, get up." He shook her shoulder and her head rolled to the left, her eyes still staring strangely as her tears finally fell free.

"No," he heard himself say, which was strange, cause he hadn't meant to say anything, and then suddenly he was screaming, as his hands moved frantically on their own to her face and tears fell from his eyes like rain.

And then Caleb slid away to nothing.