Author's Note: Hayyye ladies (and gents?)!
How's it been? It feels like it's been forever, but it's really only been 3 weeks! (yeah, people-who-demand-updates-constantly! That one was directed at you! :P)
For teasers and stuff, add me on twitter (sch_94), or visit www . sch – 94 . livejournal . com. I posted the teaser for first chapter of the sequel to The Finding, so follow the link to my LJ and read it there! :)
Shoutouts to agony-fairy (yes, I agree, a blueberry is the fruity equivalent of Derek), vampiremom1221, JessiKa xoxo (I like spearmint too! :D Your story seriously made me lol!), bloodtoast (thank you for everything! Your review made my day!), burning (aka my accidental facebook friend :D), ayonne218 (my fellow angst-lover), FreyasWrath and Lilminnie. You guys are amazing, and I'm really sorry about the cliffie! (Well, not THAT sorry…you'll understand why once you read this chapter!)
Please excuse the over-use of brackets. I kinda had about a dozen cookies before sitting down to write this, and my words are all jumbling themselves up and I feel like I'm not explaining myself enough and… excuse my rambling too :) Btw, the disclaimer is hella long. Just thought you should know.
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Disclaimer: Christina and Steph are having a hard time spending Valentine's Day alone this year. They're taking a walk to clear their heads when Steph comes up with a suggestion…
Steph: Christina, I think this year we should try dating other people.
Christina: Um… we're not dating, Steph. Did you forget your meds today?
Steph: Dude, common. We spend enough time together that it seems like we are! All I'm saying is, it's time to expand our horizons, see other people, read other books!
Christina: *Sniffles*
Read other …? Whatever! I never liked you anyway!
Steph: Good!
*Starts walking away*
Christina: Fine!
*Starts walking away*
The doorbell rings at both houses, and the girls go to answer. A few minutes later…
Steph: *Freaky slow motion run towards Christina*
Christina! I love my candy gram! I'm sorry for saying we needed to see other people! I still love you, almost as much as that story that I don't own that I've been neglecting lately!
Christina: *Slow motion run towards Steph*
Steph! I should never have let you go! You're the best thing that's ever happened to me!
*Hugs Steph*
Steph: Happy Valentine's Day, BB!
Christina: Happy Valentine's Day!
Steph: *Pulls away from hug*
By the way… I don't know if this is the right time to tell you this, but you know that guy I dated last month?
Christina: Yeah..?
Steph: He had crabs. Just thought you should know.
Christina: But we just had a sleepover last weekend! You slept in my bed!
Steph: Yeah. About that…
*Smiles sheepishly*
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Clichés
There are often times when clichés are the only thing we can use to describe a moment in our lives.
That's what's so cliché about it. Even avoiding them is buying into it.
-Anonymous
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I hesitated.
For like, a tenth of a second.
Once I came to my senses, I began shoving the furniture away from the door. When the path was clear, I flung it open as past as was humanly possible. Derek was lying face down on the balcony, and the sight of him bloody and broken like that broke whatever was still left of my heart.
If this is a hallucination, then my mind is definitely trying to torture me.
I stepped out onto the balcony and kneeled down next to him, hoping he wasn't unconscious and that I could wake him up somehow. I began to shake him gently, praying he'd respond. My attempts to wake him became less gentle by the minute as the panic and fear I was already experiencing was joined by another feeling – the same evil presence I'd felt the day Simon had found Derek and I together in the backyard.
I shuddered violently at the memory, then forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand: getting Derek inside. It was obvious that he wasn't going to get up and walk inside…
I was going to have to drag him in myself.
Good luck with that!
I retrieved the comforter from where I'd dropped it on the chair and placed it next to Derek on the balcony. Trying to be as gentle as I could while getting the job done, I grabbed his ankles and maneuvered his legs onto the blanket. Having done that, I carefully tugged on his shoulders, pulling his torso onto the blanket as well. It took longer than I'd hoped, but I was eventually able to pull him inside.
Note to self: develop some upper body strength when you get the chance.
I slammed the door shut and latched it once we made it back to my room, still weary of the feeling in the pit of my stomach. I began rushing around the room, looking for things like antiseptic and fabric bandages for his wounds. Lauren was a doctor and always made sure we had stuff like that on hand at all times, so I knew we'd have everything. I had all the supplies gathered after a few chaotic minutes; ice packs, bandages, and first-aid kit in hand I set to work, trying not to remind myself that it was Derek that I was trying to put back together…
All the king's horses and all the king's men…
I was methodical and meticulous, trying to make sure that I did everything the way Lauren had taught me. I tried to keep my mind occupied with happier thoughts, but the same thought kept flitting back into my head.
Someone had tried to kill Derek.
I disinfected every cut, covering them with ointment and bandages to encourage the healing process. I used liquid stitches on the deeper gash in his leg, pressing the edges of the cut together until the solution began to hold. I put a bandage over that too, wrapping it with a fabric bandage when I was done, just to be safe. There was nothing much I could do about the unnatural positions of the broken bones, but I did my best, setting them into the correct positions and wrapping them as tightly as I could without restricting the flow of blood.
After washing my hands thoroughly (Derek had explained the effects of werewolf saliva in the blood-stream, and I wasn't taking any chances) I returned to my room.
I still hadn't hit me yet – Derek was possibly dying on my bedroom floor, but all I could think was, He's real! I'm not crazy after all! I knew once I had the chance to process the information things would be different, but at that moment, I was blissfully ignorant of what was going on. It was probably better that way anyway – unless I wanted to go into shock or something.
His forehead was hot – almost painful to the touch – so I applied an icepack wrapped in a thin towel. I couldn't tell whether or not it was doing any good, but I left it on anyway, knowing it was what Lauren would do for any ordinary patient. I wished I could call her - get her advice – but she was still at the hospital, and as much as I wanted to, I knew Derek wouldn't want me to risk it.
I looked over at him – he was lying motionless on the makeshift bed I'd set up on the floor, unconscious and breathing heavily. He looked a hundred times better than he had when I'd first seen him through the door, but I still wasn't satisfied. I pushed my pillows up and rested my back against them, rubbing my eyes to keep myself awake. I'd made a promise with myself while I'd been helping Derek: my eyes weren't closing until he opened his.
This is going to be a long night...
***
Thirteen hours later, he began to stir.
I put down my pen and turned to watch; glad he was regaining consciousness, but also slightly worried because he would be feeling the pain of his injuries now that he was awake.
He moaned softly and I tensed, forgetting that we were home alone. I relaxed after a few seconds, reminding myself that Lauren was still at the hospital and that Andrew had already left for work. I returned to my writing, trying to re-focus on the scene I had been developing when I heard my name.
"Chloe…"
I looked over at Derek, who was still unconscious. He was moaning in his sleep, but there was nothing more I could do for him. I thought I'd heard him say my name, but… I probably heard it wrong. He wouldn't be calling my name while he was asleep.
I put my journal away and crept out of my room, making as little noise as possible so as not to wake Derek. I scurried around the kitchen for a while, collecting a bottle of Tylenol, some food, and a few bottles of water to take back to my room. I was lucky to have found the Tylenol – after my 'diagnosis', Andrew and Lauren had subtly taken to hiding all of the prescription medication in the house; save for my anti-hallucination meds, of course.
I had taken that bottle out of the medicine cabinet and dumped the pills into the garbage disposal. Never again.
I was expecting to feel elated; excited to know I wasn't crazy, but all I felt was empty.
I made my way back to my room as quietly as possible, walking on my tiptoes to keep the floorboards from creaking loudly underneath me.
It was all in vain anyway. When I reached my room again Derek was still writhing around underneath the blanket, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. I went back to the kitchen, grabbed some ice water and a facecloth, and laid it on his forehead, pushing his hair out of the way. I studied his face for his reaction, trying to figure out whether the water was too cold or not cold enough. After a quick inspection I noticed that the bruises underneath his eyes were lighter than they'd been last night, and I was almost afraid to hope that meant the rest of him was healing quickly too…
He groaned softly, scrunching his eyebrows. I paused for a second, waiting… he moved his left arm fractionally towards his eyes, then completed the journey and rubbed them. He then tried to move his other hand, muttering a few choice profanities when he felt the pain shooting up his arm; he did all of this with his eyes closed, and if he hadn't been in so much pain last night, I would have found it pretty amusing.
He didn't move again after that. I left the washcloth on his head, trying to keep busy by cleaning up the war zone that was my room. I shoved all the medical supplies into the bottom drawer in my desk – next to my journal – and did a load of laundry (the blood on the sheets would have made Lauren suspicious, although I probably could have written it off as a female 'incident'…).
Laundry basket in hand, I made my way to the kitchen to search for more non-perishable foods. I knew Derek ate a lot more than a regular person, so I was stalking up, knowing it would be a bad idea to let him go too long without food. Once I'd gathered what I thought was a good amount – enough crackers, granola bars, juice boxes to feed a few dozen kindergarteners - I staggered back to my bedroom.
He was awake, holding his bad arm to his side with the other arm and staring at the bandage on his leg.
"You're awake!" I exclaimed excitedly, dropping the supplies on my dresser and rushing to his side. I almost hugged him; until I remembered the probably-broken arm and ribs. I shrank back, holding my hands under my knees so I wouldn't be tempted to touch him. He stared at me blankly, as if he didn't understand what I was saying.
"D-Derek?"
"How did… how did I get here?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
How does he not remember this?
"My room? I brought you in from the balcony after you passed out," I told him. "It wasn't easy, either," I teased. Please don't have amnesia or something. That would be so cliché.
"What was I doing on your balcony?" he questioned, obviously not in the mood for jokes. I described the previous night's events, telling him about how I'd been asleep until I'd heard the disturbance outside. I told him about feeling that evil presence outside my door, and how I'd struggled to pull him inside all by myself. Then I described how I'd cleaned his wounds and tried to help him as best I could. He listened intently, his expression growing wearier as the story progressed.
"Do you remember what happened?" I probed gently.
"Yes," he said finally, running his hands through his hair. His eyes were focused straight ahead and he had a tortured expression on his face. Is he in shock or something? What's going on?
I was curious, but I didn't push it, knowing he'd tell me when he was ready. "Do you want some pain medication? Some food?" I suggested.
He nodded slowly, still focused straight ahead. I stood up and crossed over to my dresser, balancing a sleeve of crackers, a water bottle, and the bottle of pills in my arms. My mind was reeling – there were so many questions I wanted to ask: Why did he leave? Where had they gone? What had happened to him? Where was Simon? How could he have cut off all communication with me for so long? – but bringing it up when he wasn't ready wasn't going to do him any good, so I swallowed back all my questions… except for one.
"Derek… what happened to you?" I asked, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
He turned away from me, choosing instead to study the wooden panels that made up the hardwood floor. "My dad and I… we were… attacked."
His dad? If they were both attacked, then where-
I handed him the pills and the water bottle and placed the crackers next to his leg. "Is he…?"
"I don't know," he admitted. They… whoever attacked us… they took him."
"They kidnapped him?!" He blinked once, like nodding would mean accepting that it'd actually happened.
"We'll find a way to get him back," I soothed, trying to calm him down. I could tell this was tearing him up inside, but feeling guilty wasn't going to resolve the situation.
"I should've protected him."
"Derek, you almost died! There was no way you could've helped your father last night!"
He turned to face me, and I could see the anger in his eyes. "I was supposed to protect him! I was supposed to keep him safe; him and Simon!" he paused to breath and calm himself down slightly. "But I failed, and now both of them are in danger and it's all my fault."
Simon? What's going on? What happened to Simon?!
I hushed my inner voice and concentrated on Derek. He was breathing deeply and his eyes were closed – he was trying to calm down. I placed my hand on top of his, and the effect was immediate. His shoulders sagged, and he opened his eyes. There was a tortured look in them that was almost painful to look at, but I couldn't turn away. "What happened… with Simon? Is he alright?"
"No, he isn't, and it's all my-"
"Don't start, please. Just tell me what happened," I begged.
He pursed his lips and nodded before beginning his description. "After that day he found us in your backyard, Simon stopped talking to me. He said he couldn't stand to be around someone who would betray his brother like that."
I immediately felt the guilt returning, weighing down on my heart. I didn't think it would go this far. I thought Simon would forgive Derek after a few days…
"I'm so sorry," I whispered.
He nodded and kept going. "He started leaving the house a lot; said he couldn't stand to be in the same room as me. I didn't see him for days, then one day I knew something was off. I checked his room, and most of his stuff was gone, along with his backpack, his meds, and his emergency cash."
"He… ran away?" I asked incredulously. "Are you sure? I mean, Simon's not that rash… he wouldn't just up and leave, would he?"
"That's what I thought… but there were no other scents in his room. It was just him." I shook my head, not willing to believe it. "My dad tried a tracking spell, but he couldn't find him. Then we waited. We figured he'd come back after a couple of days - after his anger had died down – but he never did, so my dad and I packed up our stuff and went out looking for him. That's when…"
"You were attacked?" I offered, cutting off his self-imposed guilt-trip.
"Yeah… which makes me believe that Simon was captured as well. It's like they knew we were coming."
"Maybe… maybe they did."
***
We had been talking about the situation with his father and Simon all afternoon, but I had other questions that still needed answering.
"I started seeing a therapist," I told him during a long stretch of silence.
"Why would you do that, Chloe?" He didn't sound surprised… just confused and slightly disappointed. "You already know you're not crazy; why would you let some shrink convince you otherwise?"
I felt all my pent-up anger bubbling up to the surface. How dare he make me sound like an idiot after all he's done!
"I didn't know; that's the problem! I thought I'd created you and Simon out of thin air!"
"How could you-"
I cut him off. "How could I think that? Well, seeing as you don't exist in the real world, and you avoided any contact with me for weeks after I started the meds… I'd say I have grounds for a pretty solid excuse, don't you?"
He laid back, resting his head against the edge of my bed. "I'm so sorry, Chloe. I can't image what you must've gone through." He shook his head. "Maybe… maybe it would've been better for you to believe that. Maybe you could've had a more normal life that way."
I snorted. "Oh, definitely! Spending my life in a padded cell is a lot more appealing than this, don't you agree?"
Sarcasm and I? BFFs.
He was silent for a while, so I decided it was time to build up to my most burning question. "I know you read my letter," I said nonchalantly.
He looked shocked for a moment. "Chloe, I-"
"Why didn't you respond?" I asked quietly. "I know it was creepy and weird, but… why didn't you respond?" I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I… I couldn't. And not because it was creepy or weird –it wasn't - it was heartbreaking, Chloe." He stared into my eyes, conveying the message. "I could see how badly we'd destroyed you, and I thought that if we stayed away, then… I don't know what I thought would happen, to be honest. I didn't think. It was right after Simon disappeared, and I was feeling guilty about what I'd done, and I couldn't handle knowing that I was ruining your life, too," he admitted, hanging his head. "I know it's not a verifiable excuse or anything, but it's the truth."
"I thought I was crazy," I told him. "I looked you up on the internet, searched company files… I even checked facebook, but I never found anything, and since you never appeared after I started taking the meds…" he nodded gravely; he knew all of this already. "I didn't know what to think," I admitted sadly.
I felt his hand on mine then, and I squeezed it, missing being able to be this close to anyone. Derek was so warm, and I always felt cold nowadays…
Almost 40 hours without sleep was beginning to take its toll. My eyes began to feel heavy, and I wanted to crawl into bed and pass out, but I was afraid that if I fell asleep now I'd wake up and find that it was all just a dream.
"How are you feeling?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. I felt guilty for forgetting his injuries and not asking if he needed anything, but he hadn't reminded me, so…
"I'm feeling a lot better… except for the broken bones and my leg 'n all, but I'll live."
I paused to study his injuries, hoping he wasn't just trying to be macho or something. He was right – his bruises were a faint yellowish colour, and the more minor cuts were almost completely healed. "Woah," I whispered, tracing a faint line on his arm that had been a 4 inch-long cut only a few hours earlier. "Do you always heal this fast?" I asked, shocked.
He shrugged. "Usually faster, but whatever attacked me made sure they hit all the right – or wrong – areas." He said it so calmly – you would think he was describing the weather.
"I thought… I thought you were dead." I traced the scar again, trying to keep my voice steady. I'd never forget the moment I'd flicked on the light and seen him collapse on my balcony – it was tattooed on the inside of my mind.
"I'm sorry… I didn't want to scare you. I was so out of it – I didn't think, I just ran," he explained. "I don't remember it that well, to be honest." I nodded, wishing I was the one who couldn't remember. I hadn't slept in 2 days, and after seeing him in his ramshackle state, I hadn't been able to will myself to try.
That's an understatement.
I dropped his arm and concentrated on the floor, biting my lip and pushing the mental picture from my mind. I knew he was safe now, but just remembering what he'd looked like when he'd arrived triggered some sort of reaction in me. I couldn't pinpoint the name of the emotion, but it felt like someone was ripping my heart out and stomping on it with cleats. I had experienced something like this before - after my parents died – but this was (I was kind of ashamed to admit it…) stronger.
I hadn't realized I was crying until Derek wiped the tears away with his thumb. "Hey," he whispered, putting his fingers under my chin and pulling my face up so I could look at him. "I'm fine; really I am. Please don't cry." He wrapped his good arm around my waist and pulled me closer, and I reached around and hugged him. I buried my face in his chest, my tears soaking his bloody t-shirt.
"How do you know I'm crying about that?" I asked, trying to sound cheerful. "I could be crying about anything – global warming, animal abuse, the directorial tragedy otherwise known as Jennifer's Body – who gave you the idea that you're important enough for me to cry about? Seems a little cocky, if you ask me."
He cocked his eyebrow at me, releasing my waist. "Well then, princess, I guess I'll have to leave. I know where I'm not wanted, you know…"
"No!" I grabbed onto his t-shirt and sat up, staring him straight in the eyes. "You're not leaving. Do you hear me, Derek Souza? You. Are. Not. Leaving. Me!"
He laughed, pulling my hands off his shirt."You're scaring me, Chloe. Have you taken your meds today?" he deadpanned.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Too soon."
He looked apologetic. "Ah... right. Sorry."
"I'm serious, Derek. You're staying right here." He had no choice in the matter, and he knew it.
He sighed. "Fine."
I smiled at him, one of those have-to-close-your-eyes-because-you're-smiling-so-big smiles. "Now that that's settled, can I go take a shower? There's dried blood everywhere, and I-"
I raised a hand to cut him off. "Too much information, Derek. Besides, I don't know if you should be standing on that leg so soon after-"
He stood up and made his way to the bathroom without so much as a limp.
"Show-off."
***
I grabbed a few of Andrew's old t-shirts and shorts from his room, blushing profusely when I accidentally opened the underwear drawer. I thought of Derek and blushed harder; I knew it was stupid, but the thought of Derek in my bathroom, in my shower, was-
"Chloe? Where do you keep the towels?"
"T-third door on the l-left," I called, my voice shaking a bit. What's wrong with me?! Did I just picture my best friend…?
I shook my head and left the room, feeling guilty. Simon was missing, his father had been kidnapped, and I was day-dreaming about Derek?
There definitely wasn't any time for that… no matter how good I thought his abs must've looked.
***
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You can't be serious, Derek. You can't just leave!"
He sighed deeply, like he had the last twenty times I'd asked. "Chloe, it's been more than a week! I have to get out there and find Simon and my dad."
Derek had been staying with us – unbeknownst to Lauren and Andrew, of course – for almost 8 days. We'd grow so close over the past week, it was almost like we'd never been apart. I'd told him so much – how my mother's favourite song had been playing on the radio when we'd crashed, and how helpless I'd felt when they'd left me. Derek, in turn, told me things he hadn't even told Simon – about how the people he'd lived with before Simon and his dad were killed by his brothers, and how he'd run away when he'd walked in on the gruesome scene. We were inseparable…
But something had changed between us.
And it scared me.
For instance, my heart started to race whenever he touched me – whether it was a simple brush of his fingers or his hand on my arm, I always felt a jolt of electricity running through me. And, when he'd told me about walking in on his brothers murdering their caregiver, I felt a fierce rush of anger. I wanted to protect him from that, from the things he shouldn't have had to see…
It was unsettling.
"Well then…can I come with you?" I asked, hopeful.
He sighed impatiently. "No, Chloe."
"Why not?!"
"Because I said so!"
"Why should I listen to you?" I demanded. I didn't wanna play the guilt card, but if it would stop him from leaving… "I'm the one who saved your life!"
"Because I'm not taking you with me, and if you try to follow me, I'll drag you back here myself. Sound like a good enough reason to you?"
"That's not fair!" I whined. "I-"
"YOU ARE NOT COMING WITH ME! UNDERSTAND?"
"FINE!" I crossed my arms and sat down. "Jerk!"
He rolled his eyes. "Fine."
"Fine!"
We didn't say anything for a while. The silence was starting to get to me, dragging on and on; if he really was leaving, I didn't want our last moments together to be like this...
"Why can't I come?" I asked quietly. "I could be useful-"
He sighed again, looking me straight in the eye. "Because you aren't prepared for this, Chloe! You don't know what it's like to have to stay quiet for days so the 'bad guys' won't take you away, or have to run for your miles without stopping, or not know if you're going to make it to next week, or-"
"Who made you Anne Frank?" I asked sarcastically.
"Chloe, this isn't funny! You don't know what it's like to have to fight to survive; to watch the people you love die horrible-" he stopped abruptly, realizing what he'd done. "Chloe, I..."
My vision began to blur, the tears threatening to spill over if I didn't stop them somehow... "For your information, Derek, I do know what it's like!" I turned away, refusing to cry in front of him.
"Chloe..." he placed his fingers underneath my chin and genlty turned my face towards him. I looked up and met his gaze. "Would it change things if I told you... if I told you that I love you and don't want you to get hurt?" He stared straight into my eyes, piercing me with his emerald gaze, daring me to say something.
I laughed.
"Dammit! You could star in one of my movies someday, Derek! Of course it wouldn't change things! You're totally saying it just to get me to stay back!"
He turned his head to the side, looking both disappointed and almost...sad?
Wow, he must think I'm an idiot if he thought I'd believe THAT!
"You're not coming with me, Chloe, and that's final."
My sadness was transformed into anger almost instantaniously. "So you're just gunna leave me here alone? How am I supposed to deal with everything myself, Derek? What about Dr. Davidoff and Lauren and Andrew? Are you gunna abandon me so you can run off and play superman?"
I hadn't meant to sound emotional, but now that I was saying it out loud, I realized that he actually was leaving me, and the tears started forming.
I rubbed my eyes before he could notice and stared up at him, into the green eyes that I'd recognize anywhere. I'd memorized them over the past few days – even taken a few pictures so that I'd never forget them again. "Don't you want me there with you? I could help you track them down – ghosts know everything, Derek. They could lead us to your dad and Simon faster than searching for them blindly would take!"
His composure cracked a little – enough for me to glimpse the pain he was hiding underneath the mask. "Chloe, I just… I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't. I need to know that you're safe here so that I can concentrate on helping Simon and my dad."
"So you're saying I'm just a distraction? A liability?" I was furious now – how many times was I going to have to prove myself to him?!
"No! That's not what I meant!"
"Yes it is! You think I'll just slow you down, don't you?"
"That's not it, I swear. I just don't want you putting yourself in unnecessary danger, Chloe!"
"You're lying! You think I'll hinder you - hold you back! You think you'll have to babysit me! Newsflash, Derek: I'm not a baby! I can take care of myself, just don't leave me -"
"Stop it,please," he begged desperately, placing a hand on either side of my face.
He wouldn't.
"What are you-"
He leaned in slowly to gauge my reaction. When he was sure I wouldn't stop him, he closed the distance between us and kissed me; it was short, sweet, gentle... perfect.
Erm, it was supposed to be…
Ho-ly shit!
I could feel every emotion he was feeling – the desperation, the sadness – it was like I could read his mind. He was being careful with me, as if I was something fragile that he couldn't bear to break, but my heart was racing ten times faster than before, and I suddenly felt hot – feverish. I ran my hand through his hair and pulled him closer, needing him closer. He tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let him; not now, not ever.
What the hell? You go from hardly touching to full on making out? Shouldn't you be asking him about this? Weren't you just arguing about something?
Then, almost as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.
He was blushing redder than a tomato, and I was suddenly reminded of all the times his cheeks had glowed scarlet when we were younger. "I'm so sorry. That was uncalled for… I know you don't feel that way about me." He said it all quickly, so fast that his words seemed to be tripping over one another. I wanted to slap him across the face and scream, "Wake up, you idiot!", but decided on a more lady-like approach.
"Are you serious? Does the fact that I was kissing you back mean nothing to you?" I crossed my arms and waited for his response.
This should be good.
I waited.
And waited.
And… waited.
Finally, he stood up. "I have to go," he mumbled, grabbing his bag. He turned away and started to leave, and it still hadn't registered in my brain that he was making a hasty escape.
I snapped out of it a few seconds later. "Wait!" I called, chasing after him. When I caught up to him, I grabbed his wrists and looked straight into his eyes. "Whatever that was… we can pretend it never happened, if that's what you want. I still- we can talk about this, Derek. You don't have to run away from it," I assured him. "I felt it, whatever it was. There's something there, and you know it."
"We can't. You can't - I have to go. I'm sorry about everything."
Ouch.
"Please don't go," I begged. "Please. We can figure something out; find some people who can help. You shouldn't be doing this alone, Derek!"
"I have to. I need to go find my dad and Simon, and… and I shouldn't have done that," he said, the regret evident in his voice. He shook his head. "It's been a week, Chloe… I'm probably already too late, but I have to try, you know?"
"Please?" I whispered, the tears flowing freely now.
He turned his head, shielding his gaze. "I have to. I'm sorry, Chloe."
I felt like one of those stupid girls who just lets their husband go off to war, knowing he probably won't be coming back… until I realized that I had the power to change that.
I choked back the rest of my tears, hiccupping until I had myself under control. "If you're not letting me come with you, I have a few conditions, okay?"
He blinked once, and I took it as a 'yes'. "First, you have to call at least once a week."
He nodded, and I took it as a sign to continue. "Second, if you're not back within two weeks, I'm coming after you myself."
"Chloe, you can't do that. You're not-"
"No arguments, okay?" He grumbled something, and I bit my lip before naming my last request. "And third… you have to promise me you won't ever give up. Don't be some self-sacrificing hero! Take care of yourself, and-" I hugged him tightly, concentrating all of my strength into holding him as tightly as I could. I couldn't believe how much had changed in the last few days, few hours; few seconds even… I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Come back to me, okay? Promise me that."
I felt his arms tightening around me. "I can't," he mumbled into my hair. "It's not something I can guarantee… if I don't come back, I want you to know that I-"
"No!" I practically screamed, clamping my hand over his mouth. "One, that is such a cliché, and you know it. Two: You are coming back, because I said so."
He rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out to get me to let go of his mouth. I did, placing it on the side of his face instead. I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him again, and I smiled at the reaction in myself – our thoughts, feelings – everything was connected. I tried to convey how I felt, putting as much emotion into the kiss as I could.
I really hoped he didn't mind the tears streaming down my cheeks.
Fucking clichés.
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A/N: Phew! That was a difficult chapter to write, although… I'm kind of excited to write the next chapter now :) Twenty five (25) reviews, that's all I ask. Honestly, it is (and common, I gave you "The Kiss"! TWICE!!!) Gimme those and I'll post the teaser for the next chapter before next weekend, kay?
I have some recommendations this week! The first is FreyasWrath's "Derek and Chloe Oneshots". Trust me, you will NOT be disappointed. Remember to leave her some lovin' (um… reviews, not creepy porno messages). My other recs: Fallen by Lauren Kate and Betwixst by Tara Bray Smith. I bought them the day before yesterday and finished them both within 6 hours (their each over 450 pages, so you KNOW they're worth it… especially Betwixst. It was only $5 at Chapters in hardcover!). I could NOT put those things down. Seriously. And, if you've already read them, you know what I'm talking about.
That's all for now! Remember to review!