A/N: Gues what? I'm baaaack! With 2 more chaps after this to come FAST if you review! lol it'll come anyway though.. This chap's a little sappy, but w/o it,what happens to Emmie won't really be justified, so...just deal with it lol. Thanks, please review, and I'll post when I get back from vacation!

Disclaimer: AHAR owns everything but Emmie. The song belongs to the Goo Goo Dolls.

"Extra pale

Oh, you're frail now

I shouldn't laugh about it

Tragedy sets you free

I should have known it from the start..."

-"Extra Pale," the Goo Goo Dolls

Jager can tell that I see what he wants to do. He can tell, from the expression in my eyes, that I don't like it. He sees that I'm backing away, beginning to close myself off from him just as I've started to trust him. And that pains him.

He leans closer to me; our faces are inches apart. I'm no longer feeling brave or bold, and I painfully break eye contact with him and turn my head away to look at the leather seat beneath me. It is quiet for a moment, and then he takes my chin in nearly ice-cold fingers to turn my face to his.

The silence is oppressive. I'm struggling to stay calm, because that and the darkness are pressing down on my body, trying to crush me.

I don't want this, I think, because I don't want to die. I think it clearly, hoping that Jager will hear me and change his mind.

He stares at me with impassive eyes and says, "Not yet." And my relief at this sentence, that he isn't going to change me tonight, is so immense that I let out a soft breath, as if I had been holding it in all this time.

"Emmie," he says softly, his lips barely moving. "I've become...fond of you." His manner is so sure, so confident. "And when I make a decision that I want something, you should know that nothing will get in the way of my making sure it happens."

Is this a threat? I wonder. I can feel my palms begin to sweat. I want out of the car, I want to leave Jager's presence and hide under my bedcovers like I did when I was little. When I was so sure make-believe creatures like Jager would hurt me.

I don't know if he will now. "I'm afraid of you," I whisper honestly.

"I know."

He closes the gap between our faces and presses his lips to mine. My body reacts, trying to jerk away from him--will he bite me like he did last time?--but he wraps his arms around my waist and won't let go. Then I realize how good it feels to kiss him, and how I'm probably in love so soon, too. My body knows it, even if I don't, so I close my eyes and throw myself into his kiss.

His mouth is sweet and warm, and I know he could kiss me forever--but I'm running out of air. I yank my head away and he stares at me, surprised, while I suck in deep breaths, one after another. "Sorry," I murmur, and lean forward to let our lips meet again.

I can feel him smiling as he's kissing me, which is a strange sensation. But I feel so wonderful in his arms that I almost don't mind when he speaks in my mind.

I want you.

I shiver at this confession and break off the kiss.

He smiles at me, strokes my hair affectionately, and pulls me so close that I am almost on his lap. I rest my head against his shoulder and savor how it feels not to be afraid anymore. Because I know that as soon as I leave, this feeling of safety will too, and I won't be able to face him again.

"You want me?" I ask, so softly that I don't know if he can hear me. With gentle fingers, he moves my head to his chest and put his chin on the top of my head.

"Tell me why you don't want me to change you," he demands, but his voice isn't angry. Something is missing, I think wildly. I'm terrified of this question, and I can feel my heartbeat speeding up to respond to my fear. "Tell me why you are afraid to be immortal."

I take a breath and let it out slowly. Calm down, I order myself. "I don't know," I mumble. I know he won't take this as an answer, but it gives me time to think of another one. Why am I afraid?

Suddenly I realize what is wrong. What is missing. Blood rushes in my ears and I know that I'm going to panic. "You don't have a heartbeat," I hear myself say.

"My body died years ago," Jager answers immediately, a smile in his voice. He is amused.

"Of course," I whisper. A part of me feels stupid. But the rest, the frightened part, is only trying to find a way to get out of this. "Jager." I sit up, scoot away from him, back to the passenger side of the car.

He is staring at me with those disconcerting emerald eyes. I shift uncomfortably. Without moving his gaze or blinking, he murmurs that he is listening.

"I don't want to die." I say it clearly, each word nearly its own sentence. "Not the way you want, anyway. Okay? That's why I am afraid. My wish to die, up until a few minutes ago, was to die. Not be changed into a vampire, so that, technically, I would be dead, but still in this world. Is that so hard to understand?"

Jager's face hardens and he turns the key in the ignition. He still hasn't blinked.

"Get out, Emmie," he orders.

This is such an abrupt change in character that I jump at his tone of voice. But I don't move to get out of the car. "Jager--"

"Get out," he repeats. The light from the car's headlights glance off the emerald in his eyes and makes him vicious. He suddenly looks like a vampire, like the ones in Hollywood horror movies. I find myself wishing desperately for the Jager that kissed me moments earlier, that was so sweet and real.

Slowly, I reach for the door handle. My shaking fingers fumble with it for a moment, but then the door is open and I tumble out of the car, turning around, dizzy with fear, to shut the door.

"Emmie." I look up into Jager's face. "Remember what I said."

Then he drives away, quickly but silently, and I'm left to stumble into my house, my heart beating so fast I'm afraid that will kill me before Jager can.