Disclaimer: You know what I don't own. If you don't…what you doin' here, hun?

Summery: She is left to a life without her soulmate. She is left to a life with the Nightworld. She is left to a life as a hunted human. She is left to a life, only dreams of her soulmate to sustain her. Can she survive the darkness?

A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed; Shane's Gal, Jega, Galahad Cat, Dogs Die in Hot Cars, and Incarnated Soul. I really love reviews, so it means a lot that you took the time to comment. I'm sorry it's so sad, lol, hopefully it might improve.

"It was only until she reached out to grip again her friend's hand that she really understood the gravity of what was happening.…"

Life Rewritten – Not without you

5 months earlier:

"It is essential to have your grip perfect; firm, comfortable, controlled." Sade held a 20cm stake. It was white and unnervingly pointy, with the vampire's hand wrapped around its upper half, his thumb resting on its flat top.

Char watched, slightly bewildered, as he place one foot in front of the other, his face unreadable as he stared down at the ground. "Your stance is also important; you will need to put all your body weight into your stab in order to gain a penetrable force and speed."

He demonstrated the action, noticeably transferring his weight from his back foot onto his front and stabbing the stake into the air before him in a single motion, a motion which reminded Char of a sacred ritual; almost lovely in its grace and precision. "I don't understand why you can't just stay with me at all times, like a body guard. It worked for Whitney Houston," she stated, eyeing apprehensively the fine point of the stake.

Sade smiled softly, discreetly hiding the apparently mesmerising piece of wood behind his back. "You need to know how to defend yourself. Whitney Houston didn't have a vampire problem."

"Oh c'mon, it's been two weeks and nothing out of the ordinary has happened; you could almost say I'm disappointed at the amount of anti climax."

"You," Sade started, shoving the stake into Char's hands, "need to practise, because I'm not going to have you face to face with a vampire and then whining, after I save your tedious ass, that I was a crap how to kill a vampire teacher."

"But you are a crap how to kill a vampire teacher."

"I resent that statement in numerous ways."

Char smiled brightly, running her fingers up and down the stake. "But I still love you, is that ok?"

"Yeah, that's ok."

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The present:

The parents of Roz, Seb and Sade all came to New Zealand in order to escape the vast myriad of crime and death which surrounded the Nightworld. It was a country which wasn't very familiar with such a dark society, and it seemed to hold a new beginning for them and their children; a clean slate to carve a future which would resemble none of their blood smeared past. But as Seb looked into his father's bottomless umber eyes, he couldn't help but feel that there was now an ominous shadow darkening that slate.

"Nightworld activity in the region has increased since Sade's death." Mr. Moss frowned, his words seeming to increase the depth of his brow's furrows. "Which isn't a surprise; he was a Redfern afterall. But what concerns me is that this increase isn't decreasing; it would almost seem as though the Nightworld has discovered New Zealand."

"Stop being so melodramatic, Father," Seb scoffed, a smile tingeing his face, "So Nightworlders are more aware of this location? It's hardly going to be the end of us. In fact, it could make life that much more interesting; American shapeshifters are always so ridiculous."

Mr. Moss narrowed his eyes, his son's arrogance again cause for his amusement and frustration. He knew it had been a hard few weeks for his children; the death of Sade had been hard on all of them. But his son's reaction to the ordeal had left him slightly puzzled; it was a closed sort of grief, one not so pure - the sadness he sometimes discovered in his expression was laced with a worry which shouldn't come with such a death.

"You best watch your words, Sebastian."

"I would if I could, Father. But it would seem words are invisible, and therefore, especially hard to observe."

"It's times like these I wish vehemently you were adopted," his father proclaimed indignantly, heading towards his cigars.

"Oh stop, your love for me is becoming too much to bear," Seb replied sarcastically, glancing casually at the books which lined his father's library. "Now what did you want to see me about? If it's about the Nightworld I'd prefer to leave you alone to your melodramatic conspiracy theories."

Cursing the day he accepted Seb as his son, Mr. Moss lighted the cigar which he had placed in his mouth, inhaled and then allowed the velvet smoke to escape his mouth, to caress the dim air. "Actually, I was wondering if you cared to tell me what you find so worrisome about the Sade situation? That is, before, I figure it out myself and devise a punishment for you consisting of concerning amounts of sharp wood." He watched his son's face carefully as his words were heavily comprehended, and as Seb's expression registered nothing more and nothing less than the moment before, his father knew there was something seriously wrong.

"As much as I would love to enlighten you, I have no information to do so with."

His father drew his cigar nonchalantly from his mouth, proceeding to smother its glow in the glass ashtray. "Your mistake has always been you were too good a liar."

Seb's gaze followed the tendrils of smoke which kissed the air, higher and higher. "I've never viewed my lying capabilities as a mistake."

"Nothing is perfect, Sebastian. Your lying; it's perfect."

The smoke dissolved eventually as it got closer and closer to the roof, not quite it seemed, reaching its goal. "Tell Mother I said hi and that Roz will be visiting tomorrow." And with that, Seb strode out of his father's library, away from his stripping stare, and out of his childhood home; realising again, for the tenth time in the past two weeks, that he was no longer a child.

He was no longer unaccountable for his own actions.

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"We need to talk."

Roz was leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, her brazen black hair providing a shocking contrast against the white of the wood. Her friend sat at the kitchen table, vacantly sipping at a cup of tea, and Roz began to regret her words.

Char blinked, looking up blankly from her cup of tea through the steam. "What about?"

"Sade's accident."

"Uh huh," she murmured, staring back down into the umber depths of her drink, allowing its particles to cloud her vision. Char didn't want to talk about the accident, it was an event in her life which she preferred not to think about in too much depth, or know about in too much depth. Whenever she did think about it, she couldn't help but start a ferocious cycle of "what if", which brought about more questions; more answers she preferred to live in ignorance of. She was beginning to warm to the concept of denial.

Roz quickly left her position against the door frame and slithered into the seat opposite her, laying her hands down determinedly on the table. "I'll take that as my cue to start before you decide to completely abandon reality. As you know, Sade was driving your car when your brakes failed."

She took note of Char's expression, still decidedly blank, and continued. "It is a distinct possibility that the brakes were not broken naturally or innocently so, and that it was a plot to kill. Presumably, one to kill you."

Char wasn't at all surprised; she had already come to that same conclusion the night she was told Sade had been burnt to death – in her car. It was all too close for comfort. "Yeah, I know, and you're probably right."

Roz leaned back in her seat, allowing it to creak in gentle protest, and sighed. "So, you are realistically aware of the danger you may be in then?"

"Yes."

"This, preferably, is the precise moment where fear is supposed to kick in."

Char continued to look down into her tea, its surface ironically tranquil. "Yes I know, I am scared."

"Look, I don't think you fully get this, you are fucked. Not only do you know vampires exist, but you also now know about the Nightworld and all the creatures under its umbrella; its traditions, its secrets."

When she didn't look up Roz slammed her fist down onto the table, reverberating its wood and causing Char to jump, some of her tea spilling onto her pale hand. "Do you want to live or not?" Roz questioned, her eyes finally finding Char's to pierce.

"Of course I do."

"Look babe, I hate to be reality's bitch, but Sade is gone. You need to start living like you want to see tomorrow; you need to start walking like something isn't holding you back. Sade is gone."

Putting down her half empty tea, Char scrapped her chair back noisily, its wood travelling fast and unprecedented across the worn yellow lino. "I know that, you don't have to remind me."

Roz watched as her friend got up and walked out of the kitchen, rubbing her forehead slightly. "Where are you going?"

"For a walk."

"WHAT?"

Roz was suddenly in front of Char, her hand gripping her shoulder. "You can't leave here."

"I can and I will. It's pure daylight, I'll keep away from bushes, I won't go into any parks, I'll keep it simple, I'll be back in 15 minutes, I'll come back alive so just let me go."

They attempted to stare each other down; Roz in anger, Char in defiance. But the human was the one to first break eye contact, and the vampire was the first one to move aside, allowing her best friend to stalk out the front door and slam it behind her. Roz reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, leaning against the wall as she lighted up and inhaled, blowing it slowly out and closing her eyes.

"Ok then," she murmured, beginning to shadow Char's own path to the door, strolling towards the exit.

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Char stalked down the street and consciously breathed in the crisp air of the afternoon for the first time in weeks, noting that it tasted distinctly different. She wasn't sure she liked it. There were many cracks in the pavement; some fine, some rugged and aggressive and threatening to continue their angry rampage. She was tempted to avoid the cracks as the footpath began to become smoother and less worn, but in realisation at her lapse back to childhood, she stamped on one intentionally; only to realise that was possibly more childish.

She was pissed off with herself; and especially aware that each step, and each glance at the clear blue sky she took could be her last. Roz was only trying to help her, she knew, and sometimes she wanted that help – sometimes she didn't. But when the subject of Sade came up, and the situation of her possible early pending death, it was disconcerting in how much she didn't care. She felt pathetic allowing a man to cause her such pain and destruction; no matter how much she had loved him.

A little boy was standing on the pavement about 20 metres in front of her, his red hair gleaming under the sunlight. She estimated he was about eight or nine years old as he swung a plastic sword about him, no doubt imagining he were slaying a particularly evil monster. As she approached the boy, he stopped his slaying and peered up at her through his fringe, a frown replacing his mask of concentration.

"Hello, my name's Rye. What's yours?"

"Hi, I'm Char," she replied, smiling at his proper greeting.

"Do you want to play with me?"

"I would, but-"

"CHAR RUN!"

She registered the smell of tobacco as she whipped her head around to see Roz sprinting at frightening speeds towards her. She turned back around to face the little boy only to feel a cold stream of fear rush down her spine; the silver dagger he pulled out of his plastic sword was as sharp as the concentration and intelligence etched in his face. Shadowed eyes looked up to meet hers, the vacancy in them seeming to expand as he stabbed lightening pain into her abdomen, two times, three times.

"YOU FUCKING LITTLE SHIT I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!" Roz leapt into the air and tackled the boy as he turned to run, throwing him to the ground, and picking up his head to slam it forcefully into the pavement. "You don't fucking mess with us, how many times have I told you not to fucking mess with us?" She placed one knee on his back as she retrieved a black stake from under her skirt, holding it to the boy's neck as she turned his body to face her as it lay passively.

Char groaned and fell to her knees as she clutched her stomach, the searing pain she felt was something she found mentally unable to comprehend; she felt the dagger going in, over and over again. Though despite her wounds, she watched as Roz plunged the piece of wood into Rye's chest, watched as she turned to face her with resignation lacing every dark segment of her eyes.

"Char; Char, I'm so sorry, Char…" Roz crawled over to her friend, took her in her arms, and lay her body down slowly onto the ground, beginning to gently caress her forehead, trying to distract her from the pain which caused her to writhe.

Roz didn't notice the pounding of footsteps down the pavement until a shadow was cast upon her and Char, blocking out all sunlight. She looked up to see Seb standing there, staring angrily down at the blood drenched body which lay barely conscious on the ground. "We have to get her back to the flat."

"She should be going to a hospital, but I know she won't make it."

"We couldn't take her to a hospital anyway."

Roz looked back up at Seb incredulously. "Like fuck we couldn't."

"We need to get her away from here before a crowd gathers; I've already seen a few curtains twitching."

"Fine, let's go. You take Char, I'll take care of Rye; I'll only be a minute."

Seb resisted the urge to start kicking the dead body of the vampire and gingerly scooped Char up, her back arching as she cried out in pain, and ran towards the flat.

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Once Seb got back to the flat he grabbed a towel from the bathroom and carried Char into the lounge, laying her down on its cold wood. He gathered up cushions from the sofa to put under her head. Strands of her ash blonde hair lay pasted to her face with blood and sweat, and he gripped her hand as her shivers became more violent, her blue eyes becoming more invaded with torture and vacancy. His other hand pulled up her top enough so he could apply the towel and pressure to her wounds; hoping to save some blood.

"I can save you," he rushed as her eyes threatened to tremble shut, "I can make you a vampire and it'll all be ok. You won't have to worry about the Nightworld and you can live, you won't die."

At this Char's eyes seemed to gain a new spark as they flew open, her hand suddenly tightening in his. "No, no let me die, please. Don't…"

He raised her slim wrist up to his mouth. "Don't worry, it'll be ok."

Roz ran into the room then, skidding to a halt beside Char, and knelt down to take her other hand. "You are not going to make her a vampire."

Seb kept his attention focused on Char, his eyes narrowing as he felt her pulse begin to slow. "This is none of your business, Roz."

"Yes it is. She doesn't want it, so don't fucking do it."

He couldn't believe his twin; she was willing to let her best friend die when she could easily save her. He looked up at her; her eyes were sad but hard. Roz kissed Char's hand and her friend smiled weakly up at her, a tear running down her cheek. And then she smiled up at Seb, the same she gave to Roz; a final smile, a smile which seemed to say, "I give up, I love you, but I give up".

That was when he bit.

Char let out a cry of anguish while Roz lashed out at her brother, her hand suddenly gripping his throat. "Let her go."

Seb removed his teeth from Char's wrist while drawing a stake from his belt and in one swift motion positioned it against his sister's abdomen; black and sharp. "Don't make me do this," he growled, pressing it harder against her skin.

"You bastard," she spat, angrily removing her hand from his throat.

Looking Roz in the eye, he put his lips once more to Char's wrist and began again to take blood. Paying careful attention to her pulse and to Roz's hands, still holding the stake against her abdomen, he ignored his Char's whimpers; the twitches her hand made in weak protest. As Seb's eyes began to take on a distracted glaze, Roz made for the stake beneath her skirt, but Seb's eyes snapped back into attention and he plunged his own into her stomach before she could reach it, before her hand could even graze it.

Betrayal was the only emotion which showed in Roz's eyes; no pain, no anguish. And as she gripped her brother's stake, she looked at him as though he were a stranger, an intruder; someone she had never known, someone she had never wanted to know.

It was only as Roz's eyes began to close that she noticed Char was barely whispering a single word; only as she saw Seb remove his lips and she began to crumple on her side to the floor that she deciphered what it was she was saying; and it was only until she reached out to grip again her friend's hand that she really understood the gravity of what was happening.

No; she was saying no.

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A/N: O-O – Thanks for reading ;) Comments and constructive criticism are, as always, so appreciated.