Moose was giving me a piggyback to school but we came to a halt when we saw the girls – minus Annie. There was something off. I could tell. You know when you can just feel it in the air?

Today has felt eerie since the moment I got up. That's why I was on Moose's back. She brought comfort.

"Where's my welsh bitch?" Moose said, worry in her voice. We could see from the girls' posture and facial expressions that something was wrong.

"We dunno." Kat said, rubbing her forehead as the others shrugged.

"She wasn't where we meet her," Babs said as I clambered down from Moose's back.

"And she hasn't text any of us," Nicks added.

"And I know this may be nothing but," Ava said, gulping, "I heard an ambulance this morning."

"Thanks for waiting for us." Moose said as we started hurriedly towards Annie's house. And she wasn't being sarcastic. We both knew the only thing keeping the girls from going there and knocking her door down was that they knew we would want to be there.

I know this may seem like an over exaggeration, but Annie is never ill. Literally - never. Unlike Babs, who's always ill and has since acquired an addicttion to headache tablets. Anyway, Annie's never ill. And even if she were to be ill, she'd come to school. And if she couldn't, she'd call. Or Dick would call me. That's just how it is. So, thus, we'd all come to the same conclusion that something was wrong.

We heard people talking about police cars and ambulances and some other shit and we started to run.

Brady and his little – well, actually rather large gang were standing at the edge of the woods, staring at me with an expression I couldn't place from so far away and while running. But then we turned the corner and I saw the police cars at her house, all thoughts of him were out the window.

We all sprinted, in need to know of what had happened to our sister.

I jumped over her gate, but managed to trip and fall on my face. Smooth. This is really the time for me to be falling over.

As soon as I managed to get up I saw Annie come out, her face contorted with pure pain and heartache while she cried.

It made my heart literally dissolve in my chest. Annie didn't cry. She just didn't.

She was clutching her head, her body convulsing with sobs.

Moose pushed through, pulling Annie to her in a tight hug. I knew Moose was just happy that Annie was in one piece. We all depend on each other, but with Moose, there's definitely a need that's a tad bit more than the others. She acts strong, but without us, I know she'd be nothing. It's like she cares for us like a mother cares for her children.

We all wrapped our arms around them, holding her tight to us. Ready to give her every bit of comfort she needed.

After about ten minutes of just holding Annie while she cried, we all loosened our arms. Babs stroked her face. "Come on, honey. Tell us."

Annie sobbed, her face scrunched up in pain as she clung to Moose.

"Dad- he – he," my heart clenched, "animal attack – d-dad – he's – d-d-dead." She whined.

No.

I backed away.

I backed far, far away.

And then I turned and ran.

And I ran as fast as I possibly could.

I wasn't going to believe it.

It just wasn't real.

It couldn't be.

This was Dick, for Christ sake.

A stupid animal could never defeat the almighty Richard – my hero.

Well, a wolf couldn't have killed Richard. Babs had come to the conclusion that all these animal attacks were because of the wolves. It made sense. The wolf sightings and the howling of wolves started at the same time the animal attacks died. And really, what other animals was there here that could cause such damage.

There was a group of people on the path and I just ran straight at them. They all parted, shouting stupid stuff like, "Watch where you're going!" or, "Hey! Look out!"

Which then angered me. Such simple things sparked the anger inside of me.

'Watch', 'Look'.

Things people take for granted. Someone shouted that at my mother once when she knocked into them.

I punched them in the face.

I pushed myself harder, running as fast as I could, going in no direction in particular. I wasn't even taking in where I was going. I just wanted to keep my mind occupied.

It started raining and I snorted at the pathetic fallacy. It was dark and thundering, the depressing weather really echoed the mood.

I slipped and stumbled a bit, but I wasn't going to stop.

I wasn't going to think.

Running would take my mind off of what they were trying to make me believe.

I wouldn't believe it.

They could never make me believe something as unrealistic as that.

Brady stepped out in front of me but I hadn't really been looking, and I crashed right into him.

He held me tightly to his body as I thrashed around, but he just held me still and I finally let the tears overtake me. I held myself as I started to sob in his arms. He held me tightly. Usually his presence killed the pain in my heart, but now, the pain was just overriding his calmingness. I cried and I cried, and Brady was an angel and just held me.

The pain – it hurt so badly. I was like a long knife being repeatedly plunged into my heart.

He was gone. My Richard was gone.

I'd only spoken to him just a few days ago. He couldn't be gone.

I'd never be able to speak to him… ever again. Never again?

I was so fed of loosing people.

So, so, so fed up. Why do people die? What is even the point? Why live if all that's going to happen is death? He was far too young to die.

And Annie… she would be lost. Rowan would be in fucking pieces…

It's just not fair.

Why is nothing ever fair? Why?

Had I possibly not been though enough shit?

Richard has been there for me through so much… when there was noone; he came through for me like he would have for Annie. He acted like a true father for me when mine wasn't there. He'd helped me out with my mother with so much as well. He was just a godsend.

And… now… he's… gone?

Brady's POV.

Pain was all I felt. She was hurting, and therefore so was I. But I also had the pain of knowing it was my fault.

The vampire, he was just too quick and we weren't patrolling at the time. We should have been. We weren't filling out protectors roll efficiently. She was hurting, because of me. A man was dead, because of me. A family was ripped apart, all because of me.

Her gut-wrenching sobs filled my ears and her body shook between my arms, which I'd wrapped tightly around her. I wasn't going to let her go. The sounds of her crying – that was a sound I never wanted to hear again. Never.

She just didn't stop crying. I don't know how she could even have that much tears. It didn't seem possible.

I was drying inside. I couldn't take the sound of her dreadful cries, which sent a shiver down my spine.

I stoked her soaked, from the rain, hair.

I knew there was nothing else I could do apart from hold her. No words I could say that would take the pain away. There's just nothing to do to help someone deal with death. And I definitely wasn't going to shush her. It angers me so much when someone's crying and they're like "shh, stop, it's okay." No. It's not okay, or else you wouldn't be crying. Don't 'shh' someone. If they're crying, it's because they need to. Do not shush a person when they need to cry. That is no help. Some people just need to cry. And if someone has let you see them cry, they need comforting, not to be told to stop.

After a while I realised that it wasn't good for Zoë's health to be standing outside in the freezing – for her – rain, so I carried her back to my house.

She continued to cry, gasping random words that didn't make sense. I pulled her into my house, sitting on the sofa and pulling her onto my lap as she curled into a ball and sobbed into my chest.

I rubbed her back as she continued to wail and cry. "He – he – was – l-like m-my f-f-f-father f-f-f-or s-s-o l-l-long, Br-br-br-brad-d-d-dy." She stuttered through her sobs.

I kissed her forehead as she continued to weep. She buried her face against my neck, which then became wet with her tears, similarly to how my chest was. I didn't care though. The pain of looking down at her in this state was fair punishment. I'd let those disgusting vamps into La Push. It was my fault that an innocent man was dead. It was my fault another girl was fatherless. It was my fault Zoë had lost her father figure.

I was so angry at my self I was sure if I hadn't had gods gift to me in my arms, I would have phased. But I couldn't ever risk damaging someone already so broken. Not that I'd dare to hurt her if she'd of had the most perfect life anyway. She was my everything, I wouldn't ever hurt her, no matter what. A part of me wondered how different she'd of been if her life had been easy. Would she of ended up the same person? I doubted it. Would she still be the quirky goddess? Again, I wasn't positive.

We stayed there for hours, I was sure of it. It was almost getting dark outside by the time her tears started to slow. Out of exhaustion – not that she was any better.

She looked up at me, and if it weren't for the tears on her face I would have smiled at her hair. It was beyond frizzy. It was amazing.

"I-," she started and I grabbed a tissue from where my mother conveniently keeps them, wiping her face ever so gently. Her face was all red and blotchy from crying and her eyes were bloodshot, making the browns of her eyes really stand out. Her little nose was the most red out of all her features though. "Shouldn't," she gasped and I shook my head as she started to mumble an apology.

"If you're going to say you shouldn't be here, shouldn't have done that, shouldn't of anything, then don't, Zoë."

She mumbled something else incoherently before starting to cry again.

I kissed her temple, hugging her close to try and keep her warm, but her damp clothes really weren't much help. My heat had warmed her a lot, but she was still cold and shaking.

"Come on, Zoë. You're having a bath." I said, standing up and she just clung to me. Not that I would complain.

I made it up the stairs and to the bathroom without falling over, of which I was proud. I tried to sit her down but she just grunted and tightened her arms around my neck.

It was excessively selfish that I would find a little warmth at heart because of that. I needed to stop it.

Holding her against me, I started running her a bath. I don't really know what girls have in baths, so I just went and got a bunch of my mums gunk from her bathroom and chucked it in there.

Eventually the tub filled up and I turned the taps off, letting my hands drop to Zoë's waist awkwardly.

"I'll, umm, I'll just leave you now…" I said, trying to unlock her arms from my neck and she shook her head against my neck.

"Don't leave me. I don't want to be alone." She murmured, and I couldn't exactly deny her that.

"Okay, umm." I mumbled. I can't exactly make her go in the bath fully dressed, and I'm pretty sure I couldn't possible control myself if I had to watch her undress, or in fact undress her. "I'll just close my eyes." I said, squishing them closed so tightly I wouldn't be tempted to open them, as Zoë sniffed and slowly loosened her arms.

Don't think about it. Do not think about it. Do not think about it at all. Not even for a moment. Don't let your mind wander. Do not think about Zoë being naked just in front of you.

Shit!

Think of other things. Yes. Well done.

"What are you doing?" Came Zoë's now hoarse and gruff voice.

"Reciting Pi." I answered, not registering how sexy her voice is. Oh, hell.

Thanks to my super hearing I could hear exactly what she was doing. Which was great, because then I didn't have the urge to imagine it as I listened.

Nope. I really didn't get the urge at all…

She put her hands on my shoulders as I stepped forward so she could lean on me as she got in.

Her skin isn't soft. No it is not. I do not feel alive at the feel of her skin. No I do not. I am not imagining making love to her in that bath. No I am not.

Kangaroos. Aren't kangaroos lovely? They jump up and down and spring a lot. And they kick. I love that film Kangaroo Jack. It's really good. It's weird when the kangaroo speaks though. He speaks doesn't he? Yeah, I think he does. I think it's weird when people animate it so animals and babies look like they're speaking. It's just weird and unnatural. I can speak and I turn into a wolf, and even I can't speak then. It just isn't realistic. Not that being a werewolf is exactly realistic.

It doesn't work. I'm still thinking about Zoë.

I slowly sunk her to the bottom, happy to open my eyes when the bubbles were covering her. Her collarbones and shoulders and that were all exposed, though. Which wasn't so good for me. Well, it was. It was. It was great. It was fucking brilliant. But the tightening in my jeans wasn't. Do not think about her amazing naked body.

Remember the last time she was naked? Remember what you were doing? My taunting brain kept saying.

No.

I do not remember.

Damn it.

I definitely remember.

She was just staring off ahead of her; her eyes still red from crying with this glazed look covering them. My heart broke at her face.

"Zoë," I murmured softly, the guilt stabbing away at me with its constant speed.

With much, much difficulty, I washed her arms, feet and shoulders. I physically couldn't go anywhere else. At first it seemed awkward for me, but then I realised that she wasn't paying attention. She just seemed like a zombie to it all. An utter zombie.

At one point I was scared that she actually had turned into a zombie. It's not that outrageous, really, considering I do turn into a wolf.

I gently laid her down, wetting her slightly greasy from the rain hair, before I started to wash it.

I really shouldn't be having this much fun. She was so sad, but her hair was so amusing. With all the shampoo in it, it would just stay anywhere. It was really quite entertaining.

Eventually, though, I had to wash it out. I put conditioner in her hair as she pulled her knees up, leaning her forehead against her knee.

I crossed my arms as I sat back, my arms leaning on the side of the tub and she leaned down, her head now on my forearm. I breathed out deeply, stroking the side of her face with the hand she wasn't leaning against.

We stayed like that for a while and I remember feeling tears falling down from her eyelids again, however it was silent tears now, no longer the loud gasping sobs.

When she sobered up again, I rinsed her hair out. "I'm going to get you a towel." I said and at first she brought her hand up, holding onto my arm desperately, but eventually she let go. I kissed her wet knuckles before putting her hand down and then I slipped out of the bathroom, running so I could to find a towel and get back quickly.

"Okay, err, you probably shouldn't put your other clothes back on." I mumbled, rather to myself than her as she took the towel, thanking me and started to stand up, the towel shielding me from seeing anything. But still, I had to move so I wasn't tempted to rip the towel from her body. I had to act gentlemanly, after all. Although, the thoughts that usually surrounded her were far from gentlemanly. Not that I was ever going to let her know all of my perverted thoughts. Paul's already beat the shit out of me for being a pervert.

I heard her drying herself and then she padded slowly and softly into my room, where I handed her a t-shirt and boxers.

I turned around when she put them on but when I turned back and saw her wearing them she looked as sexy as she would naked. I liked seeing her in my clothes. Especially my underwear.

She looked so tired and broken. I walked over to her, picked her up and put her on my bed, pulling the covers up over her, but then she latched both her hands onto mine.

"You're not – leaving, are you?" she whispered and I paused, shook my head and got in with her, holding her tightly against my chest. She murmured something against my skin and I just nodded, rubbing her back as closed her eyes and leaned into me. It wasn't that surprising that sleep found her so quickly, what with all of that crying she'd been doing.

I stroked her wet her, wrapping her already curling hair around my finger before letting it fall back down again.

Having her against me, being able to hold her, it was indescribable.

This must be what it would be like to live with her.

The thought of being able to hold her every night for the rest of our lives put a massive smile on my face.

But then I realised why she was even here in the first place. It was because of me. It was my fault, so I shouldn't be lapping up the loveliness of Zoë's body pressed against mine. She was vulnerable and weak, and I was practically taking advantage of her.

Her breathing got deeper and she was almost snoring. I grinned. Zoë's adorable.

Pwoah. Yes. Don't kill me. I know, I'm a bitch. A cruel, cold-hearted bitch. How could I kill of Richard? I'm sad to say that this has been planned from the begining. Yes, sweet Dick was produced soley to be killed off. And by a vampire.

And I don't think Zoe's zombie-like state is over the top. He was a big part of her life, and my friend lost a relative not so long ago and she didn't stop crying for about three days, and even then she would start crying at random times, so I think this is fair. And also, I hate it when people die in movies or books and people don't care. Like in detective programs, they'll bring in the victims family and they'll just be talking normally. I know for a fact that if a few of my friends parents passed away I'd be a wreck. And Annie is going to be in the same zombie-like state for a while, too. I also dislike it in books and movies where they get over the deaths quickly and then you never head about it again. I think that the death of a loved one is possibly the single worst pain ever felt. And I want this story to be realistic.

Sorry for the rant! I've had a shitty day :L

And I'm going away for a while (which I'm proper stressing over) so I won't be able to start writing the next chap for a bit. But PLEASE give me some reviews to come home to! Oh, and to everyone, please ramble! I love long ranting and rambling reviews :D

And to 'UpYourNose!' thank you! Aha, quite a few people seemed to like the toes bit :L Thanks again for reading and reviewing :)

Everyones reviews mean SOO much to me.