There she was, hanging where the beast in me had left her.

I know it was selfish of me to feel, but I felt a heavy weight lifted from my chest the moment I saw her body tremble. She was broken, but still breathing.

At least she was alive.

Though, things might have been better off if she wasn't. Her suffering might have been over if her body had just given out, and with all the blood she'd lost it probably should have. By right she should have been dead days ago, but Darkness had put nature on hold, and now she was forced to live with the memories of what I'd done.

I couldn't tell if she was conscious or not; her head was down, and her dark red hair covered most of her face. Eyes closed. Motionless, except for the mild convulsions her body made from pure shock. Her skin was so pale it made me cringe. I felt physically ill just seeing her like that, but knowing I was responsible for it all?

Knowing that I had let that monster hurt her like this. Every cut. Every scar. Every fear she'd carry for the rest of her life was because of me. It didn't matter that I didn't have a choice; the only thing that mattered was the fact that she'd hate me when she opened her eyes and there wasn't a single thing I could do about that. I couldn't change her mind about me now.

As I reached for her bound hands, her eyes shot open in horror. A weak and fearful gasp escaped her lips as she tried to pull away from my gentle touch. She pulled back as far as her restraints, and the wall behind her, would allow. Her eyes begged me not to touch her again, so I pulled back.

"Get the hell away from me," She spat, as if her words alone could repel me. They certainly did. The venom in her voice burned hotter than the hatred in her eyes and I took another step back. Dropped my arms and planted my weight evenly on both feet as I thought out my next step. I needed to get her to a hospital, but that would be impossible with her current situation.

"Mariah." I gulped; my eyes begged her to see the change in me. She squinted, and for half a second, I would have sworn she did. But, like I said, it was only for half a second.

Before I'd realized what had hit me, my face had been shoved into the same concrete wall Mariah rested against. My lip split upon impact, and my chin felt scraped up pretty bad, but it hadn't been enough to knock me out.

I didn't know who had shoved me, and I didn't care. Instincts took over— fight or flight. In this case, fight. Had my brain not told my body to react as quickly as it did, I'd probably have died right then and there. But because I am who I am, I knew I didn't have time to scroll through my current enemy list to figure out who'd assaulted me.

My reaction had been instant. I'd shoved my elbow back at my attacker, and while I aimed the hit at her face, I soon realized I'd struck at his chest. That's when I realized it was Sam. He was too damn tall. Unfortunately, I couldn't whip around to confirm my theory; he'd already caught my arm, twisted it back, and used it to pin me to the wall-not that he hadn't pinned me down in the first place, this just made it all the more painful.

"Sam!" I breathed heavy. "Please tell me that's you!"

I felt his grip stall out, and I knew it was him. He didn't speak, but gave me another shove into the wall. I laughed, "Man, am I ever glad it's you." I sighed a bit relieved, but the feeling wasn't mutual. I could tell by his grip he wasn't in the mood to chat. This was confirmed by the way he flung me to the ground and shoved a gun in my face.

Something was different about him; I could feel it in the air. His face was stern and emotionless. He was ready to kill me.

My hands rose slowly to show him I'd surrendered, and I closed my eyes, "I deserve to die for the things I'd done." I licked my lips. "Just not now."

I sensed his head jerk sideways, confused, and the second his guard was down, I used my legs to kick him to the ground, then jumped as quickly as I could to pin him down. Had him on his stomach instantly, but it took a bit longer to wrestle the gun from his grasp. Had to smack his hand against the ground a few times, but it came free and when it did I tossed it aside.

"Sammy, it's me!" I breathed hard, hoping he'd calm down; he did, for about a minute.

"You don't think…" He panted with his struggle, "that whole trust me… thing is a little old by now?" After that he rammed his head back into my nose and in that same instant he somehow managed to sail his elbow across my face and flip me over. His body quickly rolled over mine and reached for the gun. Before I knew it, he'd rolled to his stomach and aimed the damn thing at me.

I had to laugh. Let myself relax into the concrete. I knew I couldn't convince him I wasn't evil anymore, and, ironically, it wasn't that long ago that I had wished for this. Death, I mean. Maybe my prayers had been answered.

We laid there a minute, in silence. I closed my eyes and smiled.

"I never found out." I sighed. Sam was still silent. "That Shakesbeer thing, about the lollypop."

"What?" He snapped at the absurdity of my last comment. It was so random he was offended. I laughed.

"I made a bucket list... In my head; that was on it. Along with seeing Paris Hilton naked. In person."

"What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously.

"Look," I shrugged, "if I can't kill you with the powers I don't have, and I can't convince you I'm me, you can at least have the decency to listen to my last wishes. And remember this is a judgment free zone. I'd like a dozen monkeys playing those… metal things at my funeral. You know, the things that look like trash can lids? They'd be live monkeys, of course, not fake ones, and they have to be wearing suits. I think that would liven things up a bit, don't you?"

"Is this a trick?" Sam snapped. My eyes looked up to see him standing above me. Apparently I'd been so busy anticipating the bullet, I'd completely tuned him out and hadn't noticed him stand. He studied me cautiously.

"Do I look like a magician?" I snarled, but before I could add to the joke, I shook my head. "I don't have time for this; either kill me or help me up."

He huffed a smile to his face, and closed his eyes in relief.

"But I swear, dude, if even think about hugging me, I will rip that gun from your hand and so shoot your ass."

No hug was necessary, apparently. He just leaned against the wall as if his life had been saved. His prayers answered. He almost looked about ready to cry. "I'm serious, you know I can take you." I added a cocky smile with that threat.

He just scoffed at me and turned to Mariah with soft eyes. She had a worried look on her face that seemed to fade with Sam's warm glance. "It's ok. We're going to get you out of here." He said, then reached for the rope to untie her. She stared at me the whole time; wouldn't take her eyes off me. Didn't trust me. I didn't blame her.

When Sam had gotten her free she leaned into his chest, but not once did I leave her sight.