A/N: As always, these are not my characters, but Darkelements10. I was stuck on this chapter for a while, but some of her pictures of her OCs really helped me get some ideas going and find a new direction to take this story.

Thanks to Wyntirsno and DarkElements10 for betaing.

Chapter 3: Call of Darkness

Patrick seems to know my next question before I can ask it as he slows down and pulls his bike to the side of the road. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out his wallet, and takes out an old crumpled piece of paper. I quickly grab it, and read over the address.

"482 Sunset Pass," I say, having a decent idea of where that is, maybe about 10 kilometers from here, not that far from Sydney.

"You're not really thinking that we should go there, are you?" Patrick asked. He must have seen the look on my face.

I don't know. I've already seen how strange things seem to be, but still, just going there without any idea what we'd find can't end well. If whoever this was knew that Patrick was an elemental, something we had kept secret for longer than we can remember, then he must be planning something. He could lure us in while our guard was down.

"No," I say, and shove the paper into my pocket, and try not to think about it.

But if there is someone after us, shouldn't we investigate? The others have to know too, and we can't risk doing nothing. Zhane existed in the shadows for far too long, nearly bringing destruction to both the worlds; if we didn't find out about him when we did, the consequences could have been disastrous. And we can't hope that just because there hasn't been a threat in so long that there won't be again. Safety leads to comfort, and that can swiftly lead to tragedy.

I can't help but wonder why now though. Why wait so long? If someone was after us, they would have had plenty of chances, either to try getting rid of us all, or one by one when we were separate. Does the dream have something to do with this strange address too? Maybe, if the darkness is leaking through, there's something going on in the elemental world that we need to be ready for, that the battle against darkness is starting up again. And maybe this guy is here to help, in some way.

But why be so secretive about it? Is it because we won't trust him? What if there is a good reason for not trusting him? Or is this some kind of fishing ploy, someone uncovered the old research about the elementals, and is hoping that he was right in approaching Patrick. There's no way to know if he was the only one targeted for that, it could have been hundreds, thousands even. Maybe they knew that we are Reed's children, decided that there'd be a good chance we'd also have something to do with them.

"We heading back now?" Patrick asks, probably tired of me waiting so long to think. He pedals ahead, and I realize he's probably right. There is something to this, the darkness, the dreams, and this stranger, but now's not the time to start speculating wildly. I'll bring it up with Sydney when we get back, if anyone could figure this thing out it would be him, and between everything we've seen, we might be able to connect this all together.

Patrick and I don't talk much more on the way back home, our minds both going trying to take this all in that we don't spare any thoughts for conversation. We've been afraid of this for a while, though no one said anything. I could still tell, the things not spoken speak as loudly as the things that do.

All the death, all the pain, it couldn't just be over. That wasn't our lives; carefree and normal just isn't us. Sure, we had some happiness for a while, but I should have known that it couldn't last. We all should have known.

"You okay Noah?" Patrick asks, and I try to smile, to tell him yeah, but I can't force myself to say something I don't believe myself.

The images come back to me again, all that desolation, the ashes covering the barren land, but as I concentrate on it more, I can even hear the sound of silence. There wasn't any music from cars going by in the background, no cries of animals, just nothing.

I shake, turning down another street on the way back home. But even as the sunlight hovers overhead, I feel cold, which I know is wrong. It's nearly summer; I should be sweating, not wanting to wrap myself with a thousand blankets. I keep turning around, looking for the darkness that seems to be just out of sight, but I can never see it.

"Noah!" Patrick screams, which causes me to look forward, just in time to see a light pole in front of me. I try yanking on the handlebars in time to turn myself, but it's not soon enough. The wheel slams into it, rotating the bike abruptly and throwing me off of it. I feel myself hit the ground, the earth pounding into my limbs, the world still spinning, and the bike lands hard on my chest.

Before I can process the pain, Patrick is at my side, getting the bike off of me. "You normally aren't that unobservant," Patrick says, scanning my body, slightly panicky, looking for any fresh blood. I just lay there, trying to stop my head from hurting so much, the piercing and burning sensation clouding my vision. I close my eyes for a second, feeling sleepy all of a sudden, and the dizziness finally starts fading like it should.

"Come on Noah, get up," he says. Perhaps there is some worry there, or frustration, or something I can't place. As I try to figure out just what it is, enjoying resting on this cool spring day, thought is forced away by a sudden pressure on my body, something wrapping around me.

I open my eyes to see Patrick right beside me, his eyes gazing right back at me. I notice I'm back on my feet, but he's holding me up. "Can you walk?" he asks.

I nod, sure that I could do something so simple even being so sleepy. I mean, I have before, why should now be any different?

He slowly lets go, allowing my legs enough time to get used to supporting my weight again. "You good?"

I want to say yes, even though my stomach feels like it's doing summersaults, but I take another step forward, wondering when the sky started changing colors like that. I try to get back to the bikes, but I feel Patrick push me away from them.

"We're walking. I'll come back to get these later. It's not far and I don't want you to hurt yourself."

I want to say I'm fine, but I can't find the words. My eyes are set at the street before us, and all the winding curves of the straight road. I try following them, but I keep missing the next step, but even when I fall again, I feel a strong arm around me, keeping me safe. It's one I rest into, let bear the weight as I just follow, unable to do anything else.

…

The door opens and another chill jumps through my body, the pain of the cold making me want to run back, but I can't my legs are so tired and Patrick is holding onto me so tight. Even though the warm feels so soft compared to the cold. My head is killing me, like my brain has gotten too big for the skull and its pounding looking for a way out.

"Guys!" Patrick yells and I glance up at him, seeing the sweat running down his face, his cheeks red for some strange reason, even though I'm shivering.

Riley comes running first, but Sydney and Rhuben aren't far behind her.

"What happened to him?" Riley asks, and I hear similar questions from the others.

"Ah, I don't know," Patrick says, "he passed out while getting his burger, and then crashed his bike on the way home, and I don't know, he can barely walk. I think something's really wrong with him."

Riley places her hand against my forehead, and I lean into it, but she pulls away after a couple seconds. "He's burning up; we need to get him to bed."

Ah, bed sounds nice, so soft and warm, then I can sleep and rest and my head might not explode after all. I start walking to it, Patrick still at my side making sure I don't fall over, but I notice that the house seems to have gotten bigger. It takes several miles for me to finally reach my room, and then what must have been an hour for me to get to the bed. I don't waste any more time than I have to getting under the covers, the cold air of the house almost too much for me to bear. I wrap the blankets around me as tight as I can; doing everything I can to keep the cold out. I almost put my head under the covers, but keep it out, noticing that I'm already having some trouble breathing and hate how that makes me feel like I'm drowning.

"What do you think caused it?" Riley asks in the hallway.

"I don't know," Patrick replies, his voice rising like it does when he's frustrated.

What is causing this though? I haven't been sick like this for a while, and I felt fine when I got up. Normally if I'm coming down with something I can feel it coming for a few days at least, and it never gets this bad this quickly. But my head just hurts so much. Maybe when I fell, I hit it and have a concussion or something. That could make sense.

"Do you think I caused this?" Rhuben asks.

I think back to earlier as best I can, what she said. But no, that wasn't like her, she didn't mean it, I'm sure. But now, what if, somehow…I don't know, it's just so warm here.

"No, it can't be your fault."

"But what if it is?"

As the hushed conversation continued out there, I see Sydney walk into the room, his eyes wide with worry.

"What hurts?" he asks sweetly.

"My head and my stomach," I say, wishing that I hadn't had anything to eat, sure that at any moment it will be coming back. "This sucks."

"Does your nose or throat hurt any?"

I shake my head, grateful for that at least, but in the midst of everything else, I don't dwell on it for long.

"And did you feel sick at all this morning?"

"No, it just hit me on the way back," I say, fighting off the pain in my head as I do so.

"Huh?" he says tilting, and for what might be the first time in my life, he seems thoroughly confused.

"What's wrong?"

"Just get some rest, then I'm sure you'll feel better," he says with a smile placing his hand on my head before he leaves the room.