Hello again! :D Sorry for the late update on this. I actually rewrote most of it from what I originally had because I thought I would add a small twist to the story, and hopefully tell a bit of what happened to Quinn and Rashel during the epic fight where he died. This is pretty gory, so if you want to skip past those parts it's perfectly fine with me. If it's TOO gory please tell me.

~Outside the day is up and cooling, but I don't have to be so please go back to sleep. Stay with me, forever.~

Ed Shareen-Cold Coffee

They didn't come every night, the nightmares. Maybe once or twice a week. Three times if she was having a real bad one. She wouldn't actually know she was going to have them, she would go to bed just the same as always, maybe a bit nervous about what was going to be dancing around behind her eyelids as she dreamt.

Soft shivers would run up her spine as she slept, and memories would sweep into her dreams. They were always twisted though. Like a bad movie, that had been played too many times. Though sometimes, they were as clear as day and those were the worst.

Her fingers would clutch at the sheets, screams would burst through her lips and somebody would wake her up. Shake her and then step back as she came out of the nightmare, never in a good mood.

Tonight she dreamt of the one thing, that haunted her even in the daylight. She dreamed of a masculine face, with dark hair usually slicked back, matted with blood. She dreamed of the dark eyes, peering up at her from a sea of red, around them. Carnage, hatred, and overall death. Then cold. Nothing but cold.

She would reach down, her hands shaking as she tried to press her hand against cold cheek of that face. Maybe brush her fingers over the fine sculpting of the cheek bones, but every time she did, those eyes would close and her hand would go through. She was never fast enough.

Rashel whimpered and tried to grab his hand instead, panic swelling inside her. So real, so alive so...

"Quinn?" She screamed.

"Rashel. Hun it's a dream." A voice whispered out of nowhere, and she looked up, only to the sky falling and two eyes peering down at her.

Rashel sat up in her ransacked bed, breathing hard, staring straight into the face of Eric. His face was pale, but otherwise calm.

"Rashel?" He asked, taking a small step back.

"Yes..." She whispered and shook herself, "Yes. Yes I'm fine." She murmured and curled the blanket up against her chest, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. Wrapping herself in the invisible security of what lay ahead.

"Right. Is it gonna be like last time you said you were fine?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Stubborness. Not something you need in a house full of vampires." Rashel murmured.

"I think I can hold my own." He said and reached out a hand, patting her shoulder, "Time to get up anyways." and he took his leave.

Rashel rolled out of bed, still in the same clothes she had on when she came home last night. Her feet thumped on the floor when she hit it and she stretched, her shirt climbing up her built, and tanned stomach, and her arms above her head.

She let them drop and started down the stairs, slowly. So unlike Poppy, who practically danced down them everyday with James.

"If you push me down the stairs again accidentally, I'll throw you out a window on the top floor." She breathed out, hearing the quick footsteps, that froze when she spoke.

"You wouldn't do that. You love me, you just don't know it yet." Kestrel said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Where is Jack? Out hunting sheep? Maybe going to see some pigs in a hut. 'Come out, Come out or I'll blow your house down.'" She said and smirked. Kestrel was soulmated with a werewolf, and though Rashel didn't mind werewolves, Jack had tried to kill her. That's how Kestrel and him met.

"You're really not that amusing." Kestrel mumbled, then reached up and straightened a piece of Rashel's hair.

"I like to think I am. Makes my day easier, and much more enjoyable when I can laugh at my own witty jokes.." She said, coming down and hall and plopping down into a chair at a dinner table, staring down at an empty plate.

"How longs it been?" Kestrel asked, softly as she sat down beside her.

Rashel froze and bit her lip, closing her eyes, "A couple of days.." She breathed out and then looked up at the ceiling as if pleading for help.

"Your not going out." Kestrel snapped out and stood up, reaching into the fridge and pulling out an opaque water bottle. It wasn't filled with water, though what was inside sloshed to and fro.

"The hell I'm not. Maybe I have a date, hm? You gonna keep me from that?" Rashel snapped and stood up.

Kestrel watched her, then pulled the top off the bottle and slid it to her, "No. But that might."

Rashel froze, as she stared down at the red liquid. Her mouth watered, her gums ached, and she gripped the table with such an intensity it groaned under her fingers.

April 29, 2012. Day of the Apocoalypse.

Quinn's figure raced forward, crouching down with large snarls ripping out of his chest. Beside him was Rashel, holding her bokken which was dripping with blood.

Her eyes were a emerald green, her skin flushed with the glow of fight.

"You take the left and I'll take the right? Back to back. That way nobody can come at us from the sides or behind." Quinn spoke, his voice velvety soft. His eyes glacier cold, though he held no weapon. In front of them was a battlefield. Bodies littered the ground, but those of Circle Daybreak were still fighting.

Some were curled up in on themselves. Thierry looked as if he was dancing, fighting and blocking something laying curled up on the ground. Something with the hair color, just like his Hanna used to have. In a corner, was Mary-Lynnette leaning over a pale and shaking Ash. Sticking out of Ash's stomach, near his ribcage, was a wooden rode. It had been jousted into him, from a distance. The killer never even being seen by either of them.

Rashel flipped her bokken down on the ground and pulled out two daggers. She flipped them in her hands and crouched down, "Good plan. Just keep your head down, so I don't cut off any of those curly locks." And she stepped forward, Quinn pressed against her back.

They were immediately seen by the enemies, and they attached with a ferocity that shouldn't have been known by any living or dead, creature.

Swarms of five came up around them and tried to break them apart, but Rashel linked her elbows through Quinn's and flipped backwards over his body, slamming a hard kick into the first ones head. Knives slid out of her boot, cutting the mans head clean off.

She tilted to the side and was slammed her knife into the next person, before pulling it back. From behind her, she could hear something ripping but she didn't have the stomach to see exactly what Quinn was doing.

She turned her attention back in front of her, her breathing shortened, and her whole body froze. Coming at her was a black werewolf, with a bloody muzzle. He had his head down, aiming at her ankles. To his right was a man with an wooden bow and arrow. He smirked, and pulled it back, ready to fire directly at her chest. There was something oddly familiar about him, as if she recognized him.

She had a choice. Either have her leg be torn off, and die of blood loss. Or be shot I the chest an arrow and die anyways. She turned her head and gazed at Quinn, for a moment, before turning her attention back and closing her eyes.

She never knew it happened, one minutes she was standing there, death barreling down toward her like a train, and the next she was being flipped behind a hard finger. A scream left the persons lips, sending shivers up Rashel's spin, but then she felt something pierce through her shoulder and she screamed too at how awful it felt.

She must have passed out for a short moment, because the next thing she knew is that she was blinking upwards at a hollow face, Thierry's face.

"Rashel stay still okay? Honey stay still." He whispered, and something very heavy was moved off of her and rolled away. This couldn't be good. Thierry didn't call anybody 'Honey' other then Hanna.

Rashel grimaced and opened her mouth, trying to speak but all that came out was a pained sound. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong, something was ripping and tearing inside her. Breaking apart slowly, only hanging on by a thread.

"Shhhh you've lost a lot of blood.." Thierry whispered, and reached out, tearing something black off the thing that had been rolled off of her and she looked down when it was tied around her shoulder. It smelt of Quinn.

"Qu..." She chocked out and gripped Thierry's arms, and tilted her head to the side, feeling a scream bubble up out of her. She was staring into the lifeless face of her Quinn.

"Quinn." She whimpered and Thierry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up so she was sitting. "Rashel he's not gonna make it." He whispered.

Rashel shook her head quickly and leaned down, pressing her cheek against Johns and closing her eyes.

She forced her mind into his, feeling it close weakly around hers and she tried to blow warmth into it. Though she knew it only bought him moments. Moments of more pain, mere seconds of the life he could have lived out.

He wasn't thinking clear thoughts, he was going through everything, shifting through pictures.

"I think this is what they mean when somebody says they seen their life pass them in front of their eyes." A soft voice, spoke out from behind her.

Rashel turned and gazed at Quinn. He was looking down, and in this perfect serenity, there was no pain on his face. No blood, not a wound on him.

"I wonder if maybe I could've done things different. But then I think that maybe," He said, the images shifting around them until it was pictures of her from his eyes, "I wouldn't have met you if I had." He stepped towards her, his fingertips brushing across her cheek, then sliding up into her hair, "And that's no life at all."

"You don't have to die Quinn. Your immortal... John. John don't leave me." She whispered and gripped his shirt tightly, leaning against his chest.

"I don't feel like I'm leaving. I feel like.. maybe I'm just going somewhere else for a little while. Only a little while." He whispered and pressed his lips against hers, though she felt nothing now. He wasn't completely solid under her finger tips.

"There used to be this legend Hunter would tell me. About a man, who loved a woman so much he changed her with only a few blood changes. Because she went into his mind, and merged with him completely. They called it. 'The Last Gift.' because it killed him." He spoke slowly.

Rashel shook her head and clenched her fists, looking up, "Who cares? I don't care."

"I do. That's one of the reasons Hunter said it wasn't okay to fall in love with a human. Because for falling in love with a human, because it was too risky. You could get stuck with them forever." He said and pressed her tighter up against him. "I wouldn't mind being stuck with you forever though, and I'm already dying."

"Your GOING to be stuck with me forever, whether I have to drag you out of here by your god damned dark hair." Rashel snapped and reached for him, but her finger tips went right through his arm.

"Hm. Didn't actually feel that." He murmured, then he looked up, "Remember I love you. Remember Quinn's last gift." He whispered.

Rashel was thrown literally out of Quinn's head. Something slammed against her, feeling like her head was being split open and she let out a horrified dark scream. Her body arched, shaking and gasping. She gripped the grass beneath her hands, pulling it out by it's roots.

Thierry tried to hold her down, he really did but he didn't want to break her. He didn't want to hurt one of the last people he had left. But when it was all over, and she opened her eyes. Silver glinted out from the depths of them, and two fangs pierced her bottom lip, poking through a tiny bit and making a small drop of blood there.

Thierry turned his attention to Quinn and looked away immediately. John Quinn's chest was no longer moving up and down, and his eyes gave off no light, blank and dead.

Thierry pulled Rashel to her feet and faced her away from Quinn's body. She didn't need to see that. A soulmate never needed to see that. Her eyes were glinting with hunger and he pulled her out of the now quiet battlefield. He'd have to explain to her what happened, she might not remember. Being stuck in blood lust the first couple of hours wasn't a nice thing.

"That is not a conversation I am looking forward to."

Present Day.

Rashel shook herself out of her memories and grabbed the jug, bringing it to her lips, "I hate this." She mumbled.

"Yea well your gonna hate it a lot more if you loose yourself and go hurt an innocent person." Kestrel said and crossed her arms stubbornly.

Rashel let out a sigh and started to drink, right when the doorbell rang.

Okay so this chapter was more of just giving a background story and adding the twist of Rashel being a vampire and what Quinn had to give up when he gave her that 'Last Gift':D Thank you all for keeping up with this story and reading through all my typos with hopefully a straight face xD I didn't have a 'beta' this weekend because the one I usually use is on Spring Break and I can't get ahold of her. So this Chapter may be a bit worse then the others on that area. Thank you all though!

Kes :D