Author's Note: So, I updated, but this doesn't mean this story is off of hold. It's still on hold, trust me. Till I can find a lot morw inspiration and a lot more encouragement anyway. This chapter is short and may be a bit mary-suish and over the top but believe it or not it is a huge part in the plot and the ending. There's only about 2 chapters left. The rumble and the final chapter (which will be a huge surprise). Read on...and try and review for the sack of the story. :)

A cough escaped her lips as she flipped over on the couch. Snores could be heard from all over the house and from different rooms, but she was used to it. The snores weren't what was keeping her up.

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes.

She had tried...tried to call Val and Bennie and Pete and the rest of them. A girl had answered. She could hear her talking to an obviously mad Val who refused to talk to her. He had flat out refused.

Maggie sniffled again and pulled the blanket around herself even tighter before sitting up. The rough fibers of the couch scratching at her exposed skin. She let out a shaky breath as her eyes drifted over everyone in the room. Dallas in the chair. Two Bit, Steve, and Johnny on the floor.

If they were her family then why did she feel so bad about leaving the Tigers?

Because they're your family too, her mind screamed at her. She shook her head and wiped at her eyes again, refusing to listen.

She needed sleep. Lots of sleep. Especially if she was going to go to that damn rumble tomorrow.

They hadn't wasted anytime with planning it. Not like they used to.

It was a simple rumble. Skin to be sure. But that didn't mean anyone was going to follow the rules. It would probably end up being knives and bottles and chains and everything else you could find laying on the street.

It was a deadly game they were playing at, but it didn't seem like anyone cared as long as they had their turf.

Another cough escaped her and shook her whole body.

Could she do this? Would they let her do this?

She needed to talk to Val. She just needed to hear his voice.

She picked her way, slowly, out of the living room and down the hall. The plastic was as cold as ever as she picked up the phone. She turned the numbers in as quick as her fingers would let her.

She could hear the dial tone and then the phone was ringing. If she was lucky someone was home. If she was lucky they would answer.

"Hello."

She almost wanted to cry as she heard his voice, strong and raspy in her ear. She wanted to collapse right there and tell him how sorry she was and how much she wanted him back.

"Hello?" he was getting irritated with every passing second but she couldn't find her voice, try as she might.

"Don't hang up." her voice was dry and laced with sadness, even to her own ears. But it didn't matter, she had spoken to him. Told him not to hang up. And hopefully he wouldn't.

"What?" he snapped. His voice, if possible, was even more annoyed then before and she found herself closing her eyes and preying that he would just talk to her. Just for a few minutes. Hell, for a few seconds! Anything.

"There's a rumble tomorrow." she said the first thing that came to mind and quickly cursed herself afterwards, but her mouth didn't stop there. "Its skin, but they're not going to follow the rules. It's going to be pretty rough."

"I'm supposed to care?" his words hit her like a million sharp knives, thrown hard and right to their target.

"I wanted..." she trailed off. Her heart was pounding in her ears and she could barely hear herself think. "…to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything that happened. I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you guys, for the Tigers. I love all of you so much. I'm sorry." she tried to muffle a sob as the words escaped her, tumbling out of her mouth like vomit. Bad tasting vomit.

She clawed at the wall trying to keep herself standing up strait. Her breathing was shallow and someone might as well have been strangling her. She held her breath for a few seconds, waiting, preying, for his response. But none came. None at all.

The dial tone sounded after a few more seconds and she collapsed onto the floor. She always screwed everything up. She couldn't do anything right. It was all her fault. It was her fault they were in this mess to begin with. It was her fault Dally had gotten shot. It was her fault her parents were dead.

She did the only thing she knew how. She bolted, fast and silent out the door and down the street. Rocks cut into her feet and twigs snapped under her weight. Darry's shirt flew in the wind behind her and her legs were lined with goose bumps for the cold. Clothes. She should have put on clothes.

Just another mistake to add to the list, just another one.

She tripped and fell. The skin on her knees ripped away and blood poured out.

God it was happening all over again.

But Dallas wouldn't be there to pick her up. Not this time.

Not again.

She sat back on her heels, burying her face in her hands. It was a mess. Everything was a mess and it was all her fault.

No Dallas. No parents. No sister. No Steve. No Tim.

Just herself and that rumble. That stupid rumble. She was all alone...

And she knew it.