It's just a spark

But it's enough to keep me going

And when it's dark out, no one's around

It keeps glowing

Last Hope – Paramore


"I need the english homework."

I looked up from my old paperback, raising an apathetic eyebrow at Allison. "Then you probably should have done it," I told her bluntly, turning back to the words on the page.

"Come on," she said lightly, slipping down so she was sitting beside me, back pressed up against the lockers. "Help a girl out."

"I'd love to," I told her sarcastically. "But I didn't do the homework either."

"How could you not have done the homework?"

"Said the pot to the kettle..."

She giggled, rolling her eyes and bumping my shoulder like it hadn't been a scathing remark but some kind of askew compliment. "I was thinking," she said quietly after a moment, looking at her nails absentmindedly. "I should come over to your house on Friday night."

I glanced back up at her. "I don't even know where to begin with what a terrible idea that is."

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.

"Should I start with the fact you want to have a slumber party with a vampire or the fact that your parents are hunters and would kill you for coming within even twenty feet of me?" I asked sardonically, and she rolled her eyes at me.

"I have it all planned out," she began, turning so she was facing me directly, waving her hands enthusiastically as she talked. "I'll tell them I'm going over to Lydia's for the night, that I need a night of normal away from all the..." she trailed off, having difficulty coming up with the right phrasing. "They won't suspect a thing."

"I've been around a while," I told her seriously. "I might not think much of hunters, but even I know not to underestimate them."

"Come on," she said again, nudging me encouragingly.

"Why do you want to do it in the first place?" I asked in confusion.

She paused, looking at me like I was an idiot. "Uh, because we're friends and that's what friends do?"

That was news to me, but I didn't argue her on it, taking it in my stride and not letting it show that it got to me. "Do I have a choice?" I asked, hoping I sounded more careless than I felt.

She grinned, so apparently I'd said the right thing. "Nope," she beamed, glancing at the ceiling as the bell rang through the halls. "I've got to get to history," she told me, gathering her things and pushing herself to her feet. "I'll see you later?"

"You'll see me Friday, apparently," I retorted, causing her to smile happily. She walked past me, patting my head as she did. I didn't appreciate the gesture, it made me feel like a dog or a toddler, but I kept my complaints to myself, merely watching as she walked away, a hop in her step.

I sighed, shook my head and looked back down at my book, thankful the halls were beginning to empty, leaving me alone in the corridor. I'd only gotten halfway down the page when another familiar voice called out my name.

I looked up, peering at Stiles through narrowed, unhappy eyes. "What do you want?" I asked moodily, my tone not affecting him in the least, as per usual.

"We have a serious problem."

He came to a clumsy stop in front of me, twisting his hands together in front of him anxiously. I frowned as I listened to his heart pound, slipping the bookmark back into place and pushing myself up so I stood opposite him, leaving my bag at my feet. "What?" I asked hesitantly, already wishing the day was over so I could curl up in front of the fire and drink some hard liquor.

"There's another beta," he divulged, eyes flashing around like he was worried somebody was going to leap out of a locker.

"Another beta?" I repeated slowly, trying to comprehend what he was telling me. "In town?"

"In school," he corrected with a gulp.

I it down on my tongue, lips pursing as I digested the information. "Do you know who it is?" I asked carefully, wondering how I could have missed it.

"Yeah," he nodded, but then didn't proceed to immediately tell me who it was. I tilted my head at him, waiting for him to fill in the blanks. He looked reluctant to do so, only serving to make me more suspicious. My expression hardened into a glare and his heart rate picked up again at the unspoken threat I knew I would never actually act on. "It's Isaac Lahey."

I was silent for a moment, processing his words. "Isaac Lahey," I repeated tonelessly, staring at him as though waiting for him to burst into laughter. "As in, my formal date, Isaac Lahey?" I asked a meek Stiles incredulously. He nodded affirmatively, licking his lips as he watched my reaction. I ran a hand through my loose raven hair, pushing it off my face.

This meant Derek was forming a pack. I don't know why I hadn't expected him to, it was the next logical step for the shiny new alpha.

"That's not all," Stiles continued. Dread wormed it's way into my guy and I frowned, gritting my teeth as I prepared for another blow. "His dad was murdered and the police think he's a suspect. They've got him in a holding cell for the night."

"But tonight's the-"

"Full moon, I know." He sighed, rubbing his fingers over the bridge of his nose, "we'll work it out. He won't be in there much longer. Scott will figure it out." He crossed his arms to keep his fingers from tapping. I got the feeling he'd taken a boat load of focus meds that morning. "Look, I've gotta get to geography," he told me. "I'll call you when I know more."

With a final nod he spun around, hurrying down the hall to get to the class he was already late for. I rolled my eyes, feeling the vampire equivalent of a headache coming on.


"Juliet Cooper to the Principle's Office!" the grating voice over the loud speaker called and I groaned out loud, rolling my head back until it hit the wall of the toilet cubicle I was holed up in. I took another drag from my cigarette and picked up my bag, throwing open the door with one hand and holding the smoke in the other.

Just as I was finishing it off a girl stormed into the bathroom with a frown. Her dark look intensified as she spotted me with the smoke and the clacking of her high-heels stopped as she paused. "What do you think you're doing?" she snapped, her perfectly painted lips pulling downwards disapprovingly. "You can't do that in here. I'll report you."

"Don't bother," I sighed, glancing down at myself in the mirror. "I'm on my way to the Principle right now."

I stalked out of the restroom before she could comment, dropping the smoke and stepping on it carelessly on my way. I was lead inside by the secretary as soon as I was within sight, and I wondered what I'd done to warrant such an immediate response.

I stepped inside the dull little office, looking around distastefully. I missed the 70's, at least back then people tried. "Yes?" I asked, contemplating my chances of leaving in under two minutes and skipping the rest of class to smoke and watch old films.

"Miss Cooper, take a seat," the older man in the largest chair said with a smile that reminded me vaguely of a piranha. I fell into the dark blue chair opposite him and stared blankly, awaiting whatever stern warning he was most likely going to give me. I probably shouldn't have smuggled whiskey into that one Biology class, but I'd been having a rough week. "Miss Cooper, seeing as I'm new to this position I've been doing some research on students of interest, one of which you happen to be, and I have to say I found something quite interesting. Or rather, it was what I didn't find that caught my eye."

I pursed my lips, deciding the best way to respond was with ignorance. Whoever this guy was, I didn't like him. "I don't understand."

"Well, miss Cooper, I'm afraid all of your documentation seems to be missing. There's no transcripts, no birth certificate, not even a copy of your previous results on the database," he told me seriously, his beady little eyes flickering over my features, looking for any hole in my perfect mask. "So I used the other resources at my disposal to find what I needed and I have to say, I think I found what I needed."

I let a curious smile overtake my features, it was only half-faked. I had to admit I was curious as to what this tiny little insignificant human thought he knew about me, so I let him rant. "And what was that?" I asked condescendingly.

"Miss Cooper, have you ever been to London?"

I felt my core body temperature drop as my entire being froze. I had been expecting a newspaper article reference to another Juliet Cooper, or an old picture, maybe results from my time at Harvard. I wasn't expecting him to get so close to what I had hidden. "Can't say that I have," I shrugged nonchalantly, letting my eyes survey the room casually, really checking exits and weaponry distance.

"Now, there's no need to lie about it Miss Cooper."

I cursed myself for my negative physical reaction to my real name: my straightened spine and darkened eyes. I levelled my gaze at him, calming myself enough to drag him in. "What do you know?"

"I would ask," he began smugly and I blinked in shock. It hadn't worked. Why the bloody hell hadn't it worked? "That you refer to me as Sir."

I continued to watch him, listening to his heart for any stutters, looking for a tell that he was bluffing or lying. The only explanation I had was vervain, but I knew the only source lay with the Argents, so I had to wonder how he not only knew what it was but he knew what it did and how to use it correctly. My eyes flickered to the name plate I had previously ignored, part of me surprised to see he was indeed an Argent.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked, and I could see the unspoken dare clear as day; take the tea and prove I was human, or deny and all but prove myself guilty of vampirism. I chose impulsively, my own anger and stubbornness driving my stupidity.

"I think I might be allergic," I smiled condescendingly at him once again, raising my eyebrows in challenge. He looked torn between experiencing terror, rage and glee.

He stared at me silently, probably sizing me up, wondering what kind of threat I was and contemplating my knowledge of the local pack. The fact that werewolves and vampires were usually enemies worked in my favour, there was no way he would suspect we were working together, much less that I was friends with any of them. I waited for him to make the first move after my confession, considering what he might say. "Maybe I should ring your parents."

"I'm emancipated," I told him cooly.

"Oh really?" he asked with an ugly smirk. "How long ago did you leave your family?"

There wasn't any use in lying or playing it safe. He knew exactly what I was so what was the point in continuing on carefully? "Oh, it feels like centuries ago now," I responded, sending him a toothy grin.

"I see," he muttered resentfully, and I tried to contain my pleasure at his frown.

The old standard ringtone from my phone went off, and I pulled it out of my pocket, glancing at the screen. "I have to take this," I told Argent, pushing myself to my feet. "I assume you got everything you wanted?"

"And more, Miss Cooper," he replied with a creepy smile.

I didn't bother with a goodbye, arching a challenging eyebrow at him before spinning around, slipping from the room and stalking passed the secretary without a glance.

"What?" I answered the call with a snap, stepping out into the hallway and glaring at the far wall.

"You have to go to the station and keep an eye on Isaac."

"I don't have to do anything."

Derek sighed down the line, and I could hear the frustration in the sound. "Would you just do it? If not for me, then at least for him."

I narrowed my eyes at a suspicious stain on the wall, shifting my weight from foot to foot. "Why would that make me any more inclined to do it?"

"Come on, Juliet," he snapped, and I heard the sound of his car revving in the background. "I know you two are friends."

"Acquaintances," I corrected. "And just barely."

"Look, you don't kill, there must be reason for that," he said. "And if you're not there to protect him, he could die. Something tells me you don't want his blood on your hands."

My expression hardened and I grit my teeth, biting back a scathing retort. Deciding there was no way to reply without starting an argument, I simply ended the call, trying not to let my fist clench tight enough to crack the phone in it's grip.


"Took you long enough," I drawled, crushing the butt of my latest cigarette under the heel of my boot. Derek curled his lip at me, clearing not wanting to get into it with me, but also not having a choice. Stiles tripped out of the driver's side, staggering across to meet us on the footpath in front of the police station.

"Has anything happened?" Derek asked coldly.

"They questioned him once, but he mostly stayed quiet so they left him in the holding cell," I told him just as cooly. He nodded, rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for a fight, sticking his chin up in the air and strolling passed me into the building.

"There's a hunter on his way, he's going to test Isaac with wolfsbane, and if he fails the test, which we know he will...well, I'm sure you can imagine what they'll do then," Stiles told me in a hushed whisper. I nodded and spun around, silently making my way up the stairs leading to the front door. Stiles followed me noisily.

I held out a hand as we came to the door, pressing back against it, head tilting naturally as I listened in on the pathetic conversation happening behind it. I thought the alpha wolf was a blubbering mess, but something about what he was doing seemed to work, as the female officer's heart was pumping off the charts.

I waved Stiles through, and he hurriedly stepped out into the open. The officer didn't give him so much as a glance, all of her attention on Derek.

I rolled my eyes as Stiles stumbled through the room, all but diving back behind cover the second he was able. I slid out, my footsteps not making so much as a creak as I calmly walked through, meeting a sweating Stiles at the door to his father's office.

"You go make sure Isaac's safe," he told me as he jiggled the handle, nodding when it clicked open without resistance. "I'll meet you there."

I didn't reply, spinning around and following the scent of wet dog.

I ran there, passing a bleeding man on the way. I figured it was best for everyone involved if I didn't stop to assess that situation. I grit my teeth against the bloodlust, shooting through the halls until I ended up in the room with the holding cells. Isaac was groaning in pain from within the centre one, and I tiptoed up to the door, peering through the window at his shaking form.

"Isaac."

His head snapped up, fangs descended and eyes glowing amber.

"Isaac," I repeated gently. "It's okay."

He sniffed the air, and I realised a second too late what had happened; he'd caught wind of my scent. Nothing riled up a new teen wolf like the deathly stench of a vampire. He leapt forwards, a snarl ripping from his lips as he threw himself against the metal door. It banged loudly but didn't budge, which was lucky because I wasn't in the mood to kick his ass.

Unfortunately, luck wasn't on my side.

Two more throws of his weight against the metal and it ripped off its hinges, cracking open with a mighty bang.

With an irritated sigh I jumped back, away from any possible bodily harm. Isaac growled at me, lunging for me once again. I kicked out my leg, landing a blow on his side, sending him sailing back into the wall. He was winded momentarily, resting against the bricks as he caught his breath.

He stood straight, hunching over as he prepared to attack. With a huff I copied the action, allowing my fangs to slide free of my gums. Before either of us could make a move, the bleeding man from before hobbled into the room, coming to a stop between us, dragging a struggling Stiles at his feet. They both paused, peering at the broken door in confusion.

Isaac attacked.

With a roar he launched himself at the man who was obviously a hunter. I wasn't about to get between that, so I stepped back, watching him slam into the older man, throwing him against the wall. In the blink of an eye I was beside Stiles. I grabbed a handful of his shirt, tugging him back away from the fight, the last thing I wanted was for him to become a casualty of a hunter/wolf fight.

"Jules-" Stiles exclaimed as I shoved him against the wall, making sure he was well and truly out of the way. I ignored him, rushing forwards and grabbing Isaac's arm just as he thrust it into the hunter's face, sending the injured man crashing to the floor.

Isaac spun around, snarling at me. I curled my own lip back, flashing my fangs as my eyes became a blood red. I landed another kick to his abdomen, the punched him in the nose. He flinched back but recovered quickly, landing a punch of his own to my throat. Luckily I didn't need air to breathe, so I fought off the winded feeling I got, shoving my elbow into his face. I kicked him once in the gut then backhanded him once more across the cheek, his lip busting open, blood pouring down his chin.

Before I could land another blow there was a ferocious growl from behind me.

We both stopped, spinning around to look at the source of the noise.

Derek stood in the middle of the room, eyes glowing a brilliant red, canines exposed. He glared at Isaac, who immediately started whimpering, ducking into a corner and curling into a ball.

"How did you do that?" Stiles said, and I stiffened, immediately sealing my lips shut as my fangs slid back into their hiding place, the blood draining from my eyes.

"I'm the alpha."

I shot Derek a sour look, but he couldn't have cared less.

"We have to get him to safety," he continued, looking at me pointedly. "Before any more cops show up."

I leaned down, tugging Isaac to his feet, slinging his arm around my neck and wrapping my own around his waist. He sure was staunch. He recoiled as he took in my scent, but I ignored it, pulling him towards the door. I paused in the doorway, looking back at Stiles with a frown. "I'll be fine," he said instantly, knowing what I meant without me needing to tell him. "Go. Quickly."

I nodded, lifting Isaac up slightly before tugging him from the room as Derek led the way.


"Did your dad give you much trouble?"

Stiles jumped violently, squeaking like a chipmunk and grasping his chest, spinning around to frown at me from his place perched at his desk. I grinned back crookedly, crossing my arms and leaning against the windowsill, one leg dangling over onto his roof, the other curled under me as I peered at him, waiting for an answer.

"We should get you a bell," he responded dryly, leaning back in his seat, his face illuminated by the glow of the computer screen and the small lamp on his night stand. I merely raised an eyebrow at him, awaiting an answer to my question. "He was pretty pissed, but he'll get over it," he told me lightly.

"Why don't you just tell him?" I asked curiously. And it was a fair enough question. So many of his problems would go away if he just came clean to his father, he wouldn't have to lie to the man every day.

He lifted one shoulder, letting it drop sadly. "To protect him, I guess."

I wasn't sure I understood, but I stayed silent, eyes drifting over the different posters on his wall.

"Can I see your face?"

I looked up, forcing a smirk onto my lips. "You're looking at it, sunshine," I chimed, and he grinned for a moment before turning serious again.

He crept forwards, using his feet to drag his wheeled chair closer to the windowsill I was perched on. He finally came to a stop in front of me, peering up at me with those large coffee eyes. "I want to see it," he said softly. "Properly."

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. I had to weigh the pros and cons. Maybe if he saw it in a safe setting, one where I was in control, then he wouldn't freak out as much. Or maybe seeing it at all would be too much for him to handle.

In the end, the pros and cons didn't matter. I couldn't have denied the boy anything if I tried.

I swung my legs around, crossing one over the other on the inside of his room, so we were facing each other, my hands holding tightly to the windowsill.

"Are you sure?" I asked quietly, giving him an opportunity to back out.

He gulped but eventually nodded, heart racing in his chest.

I took a deep breath, my eyes never for a second leaving his as I allowed my mask to drop. Blood flooded my eyes, the irises turning an inky black and the white become a blood red. I felt the spaces under my eyes tingle as veins appeared, winding their way down my porcelain skin. I let my chin drop, revealing the pearly white fangs that had slipping from their hiding place in my gums.

Stiles' heart rate spiked even further, but he didn't flinch away like I'd expected him to.

He stared for a long time, saying nothing, just drinking in my drastically changed appearance. For once, the kid's face gave nothing away, so I had no clue what he was thinking. Was he repulsed? Afraid? Horrified?

My still chest clenched as I stared back, trying to hide my severe anxiety, keep it from showing in my eyes. I was surprised when his hand slowly lifted, tentatively – like he thought I was going to flinch away – approaching my features. It seemed to take an eternity, but eventually his skin was on mine, his hand cupping my jaw and his thumb gently brushing the hideous veins under my eyes.

I felt my brow furrow in confusion as I watched him stare at me, feeling the cool skin under his fingers. Slowly his fingers moved down to my mouth, and I held my breath as they brushed my lips before moving down to run over the teeth. "Does it hurt?" he asked quietly, still running the pad of his finger up and down the length of the fang. "When they come out?"

He pulled back, folding his hands together in his lap so I could answer properly. "At first it did," I said, my voice sounding pathetically shaky. I swallowed thickly, trying to clear it. "Not anymore."

He stared back at me as I slowly let the features fade. My fangs sank back up into my gums and the blood drained from my eyes, the veins disappearing with it. Stiles' expression didn't shift, he continued to stare at me with the same intensity, a seriousness that was so unlike him. "Bet you do that to charm all the boys," he joked suddenly.

...And there it was.

"Hardly," I scoffed, leaning back against the half opened glass of the window. "More like scare all the boys."

He leaned back in his chair too, and suddenly the strange tension that had appeared was gone as quick as it had come. "I don't see how," he said, trying to hold back a grin. "I hate to break it to you Jules, but you're really not all that scary."

I raised a single eyebrow at him, my own lips twitching up. I felt lighter than I could ever remember feeling, and I wondered what about what had just happened was so significant to my psyche.

"I'll have you know, I was once driven from a town with pitchforks," I told him with a smirk. "And I once had a priest perform an exorcism on me because I was so creepy he thought I was possessed."

"Were you in the habit of wearing capes at the time?"

"No, but I did live in an abandoned castle."

"That'll be what did it then."

"Uh-huh."

It was silent for a moment, both of us unable to contain our smiles. "You ever watched Van Helsing?" he asked suddenly, cocking his head at me. "The 2004 version?"

I mirrored his stance, pursing my lips thoughtfully. "Can't say that I have."

"And I bet it's been a long time since you last ate popcorn, huh?"

"It's been somewhere in the decades, yes."

"Well then, I think we need to re-introduce you to these things," he said, nodding as he spoke. I didn't move an inch. "That was a subtle invitation," he said bluntly, and I blinked in surprise.

"Oh."

"Come on," he chuckled, pushing himself to his feet and holding out a hand for me to take. I did so cautiously, letting him pull me off the windowsill and to my feet. "I'll take care of the popcorn, I don't need you breaking the microwave." He let go of my hand, making his way to the door. "But if my dad pokes his head in, hide under the bed or something, okay? I'm technically grounded."

It was quite a bit of information to process, so I nodded, throwing him a clumsy thumbs up. "You got it."

He grinned, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before disappearing out the door.

I folded my hands behind my back, awkwardly transferring my weight to the balls of my feet as I peered around the low lit room. Deciding it was weirder to stand in the exact same spot, I strolled closer to his desk, curiously peeking at what he was working on.

If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought he might have been doing homework. But this was Stiles we were talking about, so I wasn't surprised to find printed out sheets about common folklores and conspiracies spread out across the desktop. I reached forwards, sifting gently through the pages until one in particular caught my eye.

The Truth About the Battle of Willow Creek.

I smirked. Oh, the stories I could tell the kid.

I laid it back on the desk, folding my hands back behind me once more as I moved over to his chest of drawers. A line of photographs caught my eye, and I stepped closer, a smile lighting up my face as I peered at a baby-faced Stiles sandwiched between the Sheriff and a beautiful woman with flowing red hair. I moved down the line, pausing to gaze at each one, my smile widening with each look I got into the kid's life.

The last one was the best. Stiles stood in a baseball uniform, a too-big hat on his head, slipping off on the side. He was missing his two front teeth and holding a signed baseball in his hand, the woman from the previous pictures who could only be his mother standing behind him, a bright smile on her face as she looked down at her son.

I carefully picked the frame up, pulling it closer to me to get a better look. The corners of my lips were tugging up before I could stop them, and I stared down at the picture, feeling a sense of wonder and adoration appear in my gut.

I adored this boy.

His sense of humour was cruel and scathing in the very best way, but when it came down to it, he had the kindest, most pure heart of any human I'd met in my two centuries. He could look past my fangs and blood red eyes, he could see the person underneath. When I was with him I forgot all the years of pain and hell on earth, when I was with him I was that little girl from 1824, who laughed louder than anyone, and had more kindness in her little finger than most had in their whole bodies.

I knew, logically, that that girl was long since dead and gone. But I wondered if maybe there was still a spark of her floating around somewhere inside of me, and I'd just never found the right person to bring it out in me.

Maybe now I had.

"I was seven," Stiles' quiet voice came from the door, and I looked up in surprise, having been so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn't heard him approach. I wiped the smile off my face, pointlessly hoping he hadn't seen the dopey expression. "My parents drove me into the city to see my first live game, and dad pulled some strings to let me meet my favourite player." He was leaning in the doorway, big bowl of popcorn held under one arm. "It was a good day."

I turned back to the drawers, carefully putting the frame back in it's place on the top. "She's beautiful," I said matter-of-factly, giving it one final look over before I turned back to Stiles, my most gentle smile on my lips, which I discovered that for once, I didn't have to force.

"Yeah," he agreed with a smile, shaking his head for a second as if to shake off the memories before striding into the room. He put the bowl of popcorn on the desk, turning around and moving to the door. He began to shut it, pulling a strained face when it creaked loudly. He paused, making sure he couldn't hear his dad moving around in the room over before doing it again, this time biting the bullet and shutting it quickly. It locked into place with a dull thud and the kid gave a sigh of relief, brushing imaginary sweat from his brow.

I chortled, rolling my eyes and moving back over to the desk, plucking a piece of popcorn from the bowl and tossing it in the air, catching it expertly in my mouth.

"Please," Stiles scoffed when I flashed him a smug smile. "Anyone can do that."

"Oh yeah?" I challenged, and he bristled for a moment before stepping forwards, grabbing a piece of his own before tossing it into the air.

With the low lighting and his severe lack of coordination, it bounced off his nose and onto the floor. He pouted at it for a minute before picking another piece and trying it again.

This time it hit his eye.

It wasn't until his fourth attempt that he actually succeeded, though I still say it was because he yawned at the same time, meaning his mouth was open wider than usual.

Eventually he moved over to his bed, grabbing the covers and tearing them from his mattress until they sat in a puddle on the floor. "What are you doing?" I asked softly, pooping another few pieces of the surprisingly delicious popcorn into my mouth.

"Uh, making a nest," he replied like it was painstakingly obvious.

I tilted my head at him but he didn't elaborate, pulling his pillows off and arranging them on the floor.

After a long few minutes of tweaking, he stepped back and gestured for me to take a seat. I raised my brow but did as asked, moving forwards and slowly lowering myself onto the makeshift nest. It was surprisingly comfortable, I realised, as I reclined back against the pillows. Stiles stared at me expectantly, awaiting my assessment. "I like it," I told him reassuringly, my lips moving into a smile of their own accord.

He grinned crookedly, bouncing over to the desk and grabbing his laptop and the bowl of popcorn, bringing them with him as he settled in beside me. His leg rested flush against mine, and I heard his heart speed up at the contact, but for his sake I said nothing. He handed over the bowl, setting up the film and leaning back as it started to play.

Stiles liked to feed me with trivia and fun facts about the movie as it played, and I found I didn't mind at all, listening intently as he animatedly talked about the landscape shots we could see on the screen.

I smiled through the darkness at the boy, his face lit up from the glow of the screen, watching as he gestured wildly, explaining a stunt happening in front of us. It'd been decades since I'd last felt happiness, so I'd forgotten what it felt like.

But if I had to describe what I felt in that moment, I would say it was pure joy.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've been awake for nearly 48 hours, but I had a sudden urge to edit and post this anyway, I come to you from the comfort of my bed, my softest robe and a hot water bottle. The song at the top of the chapter, 'Last Hope', is an amazing song, one I like to listen to when I'm writing this story. Anyway, let me know what you thought of this one, tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you loved, what you loathed...

Thank you for sticking with me, I've been having some writer's block over the past week, but you guys help me push through.

Thanks for being my inspiration :)