Hello darlings! I'm gunna cut to the chase because I've been rambling in my author's notes lately, but I absolutely NEED to stop and thank everyone who's been reviewing and supporting this story. You guys are the reason I write (I know this is getting old, but bear with me please!) and the reason I've been updating so much lately (except for the past couple of weeks. I know, I don't deserve your love!) Thank you so much for always being here and for telling me random things you enjoy within the story; you may not know this, but my favourite reviews are the ones that go on and on and on about nothing in particular! :D

Also, if you haven't already, you should go check out the songfic I wrote! It's called In My Arms, and it's a little OC (not much) and a little AU (again, not very much) and it involves Chlerek, meetings in the middle of the night, and nightmares :) I'll leave a summary at the end of this chap!

Shoutouts go out to everyone who reviewed / subscribed to this story and all my others! I LOVE YOU ALL! Special shoutouts go out to everyone who reviewed In My Arms: xpskl, burningimpossiblybright (who also beta'd it and calmed me down when I was having one of my "!" episodes. YOU'RE PURE AWESOMENESS, IN CASE YOU DIDN'T ALREADY KNOW :D), SongSiren1228, piercingemeralds2, SpencerReidFan89 (BTW, can you believe what's happening with CM? PM me!), Surial17, Lauren94, xxStarBrightxx, Boat Gal, and RayRayluvs2read. THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH, GUYS! Anyone who reviews that baby deserves a shoutout and some virtual hugs/cookies! :)

Enjoy, guys!

Disclaimer: Steph just returned from a midnight viewing of Inception and she's a little excited…

Steph: *Bouncing up and down*
And then he—

Christina: *Covers Steph's mouth with hand*
DO NOT TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED, WOMAN! I WANNA SEE THS MOVIE WITH NO PRIOR KNOWLEDGE OF THE PLOT, OKAY?

Steph: *Pulls off Christina's hand*
But—

Christina: NO 'BUTS', MISSY! You're here for a disclaimer, right? Well, you don't own DP! Now I crushed your dreams, etc…
*Points to door*
LEAVE!

Steph: *Confused and a little hurt*
Oh… okay then…
*Leaves, mumbling to self*
What just happened?

Alone II

"You know, I dream sometimes about flying. It starts out like I'm running really, really fast and I'm like superhuman and the terrain starts to get really rocky and steep and then I'm running so fast that my feet aren't even touching the ground and I'm floating and it's like this amazing, amazing feeling… I'm free, I'm safe. Then I realise: I'm completely alone. And then I wake up."

-Summer, 500 Days of Summer

I laid there in my bed for a while, completely motionless save for the occasional rise and fall of my chest as I breathed in and out. In. Out. In. Out. It sounded forced to me; not at all like the soothing rhythm of Derek's breathing…

I shook my head and sat up, resting my head in my hands. When will this torture end? When am I going to be able to go more than a few seconds without him taking over my thoughts? When am I going to be able to think about him without my heart breaking? I shook my head again, hoping that the action would somehow dislodge the thoughts of him that had implanted themselves inside my mind. I didn't expect it to work, and it didn't – instead, I was hit with another memory…

You thought you were in pain when they disappeared… what about now? Which of the two would you prefer, now that you've tasted both degrees of suffering?

No. I tried to concentrate on other things – anything but that – but the idea had already been born, and it was now free to inflict its torture on its creator.

Would you trade this pain for that pain? Wouldn't you rather he never existed?

Never.

Because no matter how much pain I was in – no matter how much it hurt – I could never go back to doubting his existence. I couldn't pretend that he never existed, because I loved him, and he loved me, and when you love someone, you can never feel totally whole – complete – unless they're with you, standing by your side. That person is a missing piece of your own self, longing for the day when they can be re-united with you – longing for the day that they can come home – the day you'll be whole again. I'd found that piece – found it, lost it, found it, then lost it again – and even though I was in excruciating pain, I couldn't, wouldn't allow myself to wish that I wasn't. To me, it was better to have found that missing piece of my soul and - for a little while at least – know what it felt like to be whole, than to never have found it and not know that there was ever anything missing in the first place.

Never. I could never go back to that; no matter how strong the grief, no matter how empty I felt… I couldn't bring myself to wish that the strange, reserved little boy with the striking emerald eyes hadn't touched my life the way he had.

I let myself doze off, giving in to the ceaseless call of the world behind my eyelids. Sleep was my escape now – while I was there, nothing could touch me. I had to be careful, though – if I lingered too long, my subconscious would begin playing tricks, showing me things I didn't want to see.

I forced myself awake less than an hour later, after I'd realized I'd been dreaming about the night Derek and I spent together in my backyard. It was one of my rare cherished memories, but I couldn't bear to relive it now, especially knowing what the consequences of that night had been and where they had led us. I tried to focus on something else; it was surprisingly easy, because while that memory reminded me of Derek, it also reminded me of Simon – how angry he'd been when he had found us together and how furious he had been that Derek and I had been keeping secrets from him…

Tori was right – I had to tell Simon what happened in that house. He had a right to know, and he had to be sick with worry – wondering where Derek was and why he hadn't been allowed in to see him yet…

Waiting until I could pluck up the courage to tell him would be both selfish and cruel.

I clenched my fists. It's now or never. I got off my bed and rubbed my eyes, erasing any trace of the troubled sleep I'd had. I stood and walked to the door slowly, trying to stall as long as possible while I tried to figure out what I'd say to Simon. What could I say? 'Hey, just thought I'd stop by to tell you your brother died trying to protect me! No big deal, right? See you later!'?

Eventually, my baby steps got me to the door. I stood in front of it for a few seconds collecting my thoughts before finally forming a fist and knocking a few times.

I don't know whether it was the sleep deprivation or the after-effects of the dream, but I found myself half-expecting the person on the other side of the door to ask, "who's there?" before opening. Instead, the door swung open, and I found myself face-to-face with the same guard who'd been responsible for me since the night Derek had been killed.

I felt an explosion of anger inside me, both unexpected and instantaneous. I hated this man for what he represented – how could he apologize to me after sitting back and watching his partner kill Derek? How could he stand outside my door and play baby-sitter night and day when he knew he was partly responsible for the death of the person that mattered most to me?

"Is something wrong, kid?" he asked, one eyebrow raised in confusion – I guess it was understandable, seeing as how I hadn't knocked on the door since the day they'd thrown me back in.

"No, nothing's wrong," I said. "I just thought it was about time I told my best friend that his brother is dead, ya know?" I smiled sweetly – my lips pressed together in a tight line – but I knew he could see it in my eyes.

He stared at me for a few seconds, nibbling on the inside of his cheek while he considered my request. Finally, he nodded. He picked up his walkie-talkie and radioed in, telling whoever was on the receiving end that he was escorting me to Simon's cell, and that they should contact him if there were any problems. He didn't ask for back-up like they usually did with Tori – I guess no one worries much about the poor little necromancer - it's hard to be a threat when all you can do is contact spirits.

He led me down the length of the hallway, attempting to start some sort of conversation all the while. "I'm sorry about your friend," he said. "I know you don't believe me, but I really am. I told Bobby not to shoot, but my partner's not exactly reluctant to use his gun, if you know what I mean…"

"Both of you can go to hell," I spat, not daring to say anything else in case I lost it completely; I could already feel the prickle that signaled oncoming tears, triggered by the offhand comment – the mere mention of what happened that night. I couldn't cry in front of this guy – I wasn't willing to give him the satisfaction, and it wouldn't help much if I did - I knew how to play this game now, and looking weak was not going to get me anywhere that I wanted to be.

He didn't react or get angry – just shook his head and pressed his lips together tightly. We stopped in front of a door – I presumed it was Simon's, unless the guard had been lying to me all along – and he knocked twice. "WHAT?" Simon's voice demanded from the other side of the steel door.

"You have a visitor." He opened the door as he responded and held it open. I guess he trusts Simon not to zap him… idiot.

He held the door open as I walked past, then leaned in towards me. I instinctively jumped back, not used to being so close to a guy I didn't know or trust. "Listen kid," he whispered urgently, leaning on the door instead. "We're not all monsters here, okay? Remember that and you might see the outside of this place someday soon."

With that, he slammed the door shut behind me.

"CHLOE!" Simon rushed towards me and enveloped me into a hug, squeezing me so tightly that I couldn't breathe. He spun me around the room a few times and then stopped, still hugging me so tightly that I was sure he was going to hug me until I passed out.

I wanted to tell him to put me down – it felt so wrong, being embraced by him… I'd been the reason behind his brother's death, after all, and people don't tend to forgive that as easily as you hope they will – but I wasn't going to make him stop if he was having fun. Let him be happy while he still can.

Finally, after a few more spins, he put me down. I held on to the wall in an attempt to steady myself, but Simon wasn't going to let me have any quiet time. "Where have you been?" he demanded, orbiting around me like a satellite. "I kept asking to see you, but they never let me! They kept saying you were sick or something, but they wouldn't let me in to check!"

He stopped moving, glancing at me with a worried expression. "Chloe… you're not sick, are you?"

"No, no. I'm… well, I'm not fine, but I need to talk to you, Simon." No sense in dragging it out longer than necessary.

"What about?" he asked. I took a deep breath to ready myself, but he held up a hand and cut me off before I could get a word out. "Actually, can I go first? Sorry for cutting you off; I'm just wondering whether you've seen Derek lately… they haven't let me in to see him either, and I'm kind of worried," he explained.

My heart sank. "Actually, Simon, that's what I needed to talk to you about…"

He leapt up off the bed and stood. "Why? Is something wrong? Is he Changing?" he asked, without pausing to take a breath.

"Simon, I-"

"Is he the one who's sick? Does he need to talk to me? Has he talked to Dad?"

"Simon-"

"Where is he, Chloe? Where's Derek? Is he here? Is he down the hall? 'Cause I heard they were moving one of the prisoners into the room at the end of the hall, and I was hoping-"

"He's dead, Simon," I whispered softly, cutting him off mid-rant.

I watched a thousand different expressions flit across his face: shock, confusion, sadness, and then… anger?

"Why would you say that, Chloe?" he asked, his voice eerily calm. I'd never heard him speak to anyone except Derek in that tone, and the fact that he was using it now scared me a little.

"I'm s-so s-sorry, Simon," I stammered, feeling the tears forming behind my eyes. "It all happened that night they found us in that old house. He was trying to get back to me, and they—"

"You're lying," he said, his tone even.

"W-what?" I asked, completely and utterly bewildered.

"You're lying," he repeated. "Derek would never—he can't be dead, alright? I know he's not, which means you're lying," he explained.

"Why would I lie about something like that? How could you even think that?" I inquired, still shocked by what was going on.

"Simple: the Edison Group is blackmailing you somehow, and your job is to try and convince me that my brother is dead so I'll give up any chance of rescue or escape. They know I'd never try to escape unless he was coming with me, so they're making sure I don't ask to see him anymore to make plans," he elaborated.

"N-no, Simon. They're not blackmailing me. I'm not lying. He really is… dead. Gone."

"I don't believe you," he said simply.

"Look at me, Simon! Look into my eyes and tell me I'm lying!" I said, on the verge of shouting now. He refused to meet my gaze, which made me even more angry than before. The second stage of grief? Anger.

"Look at me! I'm a mess, Simon! I haven't slept properly in weeks; haven't closed my eyes in days because I'm afraid that I'll raise him somehow because he's DEAD! DEAD, Simon! DEAD! I would never lie about something like that!"

I expected him to cry or scream or shout at me, but he didn't do anything of the sort. Instead, he crossed the room, banged on the door a few times, then fled to the bathroom, slamming the door so hard the whole room shook. I stood there for a few seconds, dumbstruck. I couldn't process what had just happened, but my mind was going a million miles a minute. Nothing was making sense anymore; nothing at all. My best friend since childhood no longer trusted me, and whether he believed it or not, his brother was dead.

I didn't know whether he believed me or not, but I did know one thing for certain: Simon wasn't speaking to me anymore, and he expected me to be gone when he returned.

I knocked on the door again, telling whoever was on the other side that I was ready to return to my room.

Sprawled on my bed with my face buried in a pillow, it was difficult keeping my eyes open. They seemed to want to close of their own accord, and after the ordeal I'd just been through, I was having trouble fighting the persistent pull of sleep. I could just take a nap, I assured myself. A power nap to keep me going for a few more hours. No dreams, no exercising my out-of-control powers, just… sleep. It was like staying awake was a beach somewhere in the middle of a heat-wave, and even though I was boiling and I knew how amazing the water would feel, I was holding myself back. I was fighting it because I was scared of what would happen when I entered the waters of sleep, murky at points and crystal-clear at others. The water was beckoning me, calling me forward – as if it knew my resolve was getting weaker as the minutes passed. I was fighting it and fighting it, but I was no longer strong enough to resist.

And I gave in, wadding - walking forward in the ankle-deep water until it was no longer ankle-deep and the waves were my height. I kept going, kept walking until the moment when, finally, the waves pulled me under and I was able to let go of everything for a little while.

My dream started off normally – I was walking around in the middle of a busy city, pushing my way through a crowd of people, and everyone was yelling, shouting at the top of their lungs. They were all asking for something, and once they asked, they received whatever they wished for. I was fascinated by this and tried to open my mouth to ask for what I wanted, but someone had glued my lips together and I was unable to speak. I tried to shout, but no one could hear me over the shouts of everyone making a wish. I tried to shove people out of my way so I could escape but they won't budge, and it suddenly occurred to me that they were all yelling at me - that they thought I was the one granting their wishes. I tried to open my mouth to explain, but of course I couldn't – the glue was still there, holding my lips together and my words inside. I struggled to explain with signals and gestures that I was not the one responsible for the wishes coming true, but the crowd began to swamp me. I felt the weight of the people pushing me to the ground, smothering me with their combined weight. At this point, I was almost sure that I'd die – that I'd never escape the pressure of the huge mass – but just as I was about to accept my fate, the crowd thinned and a voice addressed me from above.

"Pushy, aren't they?" The demi-demon's voice echoed throughout my dream-world, out of place. I felt my lips separate as I stood and brush myself off, looking for the crowd over my shoulder. They all seemed to disappear when the demi-demon spoke, but I wasn't going to take any chances.

"Looking for the spirits, child? Don't worry about them… they have nothing better to do than bother a helpless little necromancer as she slumbers," she assured me. "They won't be coming back."

"How did you get into my dream?" I demanded. "And why were all those people shouting at me?"

"They are lowly spirits," she answered in a bored tone, avoiding my first question. "Ghosts seeking out a necromancer who will listen to their problems and do as they ask. Worry not. They usually can't contact you in a dream unless you are extremely weak or vulnerable, so you don't have to worry about them for very long."

I nodded – it made sense, after all. I was extremely weak, having forced myself to stay awake for more than 48 hours straight with less than a full hour of sleep.

"How did you get here?" I asked again, knowing that a demon in your dreams is never a good omen.

"Does it matter? I'm not here to do any damage… I'm just here to tell you about your options."

"Options?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "I'm trapped here with nothing to do but wait. How could I possibly have 'options'?"

She laughed – a high, twinkling laugh that gave me chills. "Ahh, but you're not trapped! I could help you escape… all you'd have to do is release me!"

I crossed my arms and glared upwards at the dream-sky - which, now that I was paying attention, was a deep shade of purple. "In case I didn't make this perfectly clear the last time you asked, the answer is no," I said. "I don't make deals with the devil, so Stop. Visiting. Me."

Another laugh. "I'm flattered, darling, but I could hardly be called the devil," she said. I could practically hear the smile in her voice. "I'm offering you a 'get-out-of-jail-free' card, here, and all you have to do is release me from the bindings tying me to this damned building. That's all I want, really!"

"No deal," I mumbled. "Now let me out of here. I can't sleep for too long or-"

"Or your boyfriend will show up?" she guessed. "Because if that's your reason, you're a little too late to avoid him."

And even as she spoke, I felt him behind me. I spun and faced him – forgetting about the demon - torn between feeling guilty and feeling happy to see him again – even if it was only in a dream.

"D-Derek? Is it really you?"

"Chloe, we don't have much time, but I had to tell you: you have to get out of the Edison Group's Headquarters. You have to escape," he said urgently.

"But I can't," I whispered. "All I have is Liz, and she can't get us out by herself. I need to find someone else who can help us get out without being noticed."

"Accept the demon's offer. She can help you," he told me, smiling a wide non-Derek smile.

I stepped back, shaking, chills running down my spine. "Make it go away," I shouted at the sky. "Make the projection or whatever it is go away!"

"Are you sure, dear? You seem to be having so much fun with your friend; I can leave you two alone if you want…"

"H-how dare you?" I spat, my voice as even as I could get it to be. Smiley-dream Derek disappeared, along with the landscape. Instead, I found myself standing alone in the middle of a field of waist-high grass, hugging my arms to my chest. The scene changed, and I was back at the beach, standing at the edge of the sand, watching as the sea retreated in preparation for low tide.

"Consider my offer carefully," the demi-demon told me. "Mull it over. Soon enough, you'll come to realize how much you need my help. You don't want to end up like your boyfriend, do you?"

"I swear to God, I will banish you to the seventh layer of hell if you ever mention him again," I threatened, clenching my teeth so tightly my cheeks hurt. How dare she use Derek to manipulate me? How dare she intrude on my dreams? She deserves to be stuck in this fucking place for the rest of fucking ETERNITY!

Her laugh was the last thing I heard when I bolted awake, the sound of it still ringing in my ears.

I let my head rest in my hands, taking deep breaths every few seconds. In. Out. In. Out.

It took me a while to calm down, but once I did, I realized just how right the demi-demon had been: I had to get out of here one way or another. It was time to stop playing good little prisoner and time to start taking control of the situation. I'd had my time to mourn, to grieve – I'd been a vegetable for weeks, hadn't I? It was time to stop feeling sorry for myself for a few moments and take a gander at the bigger picture: if I didn't manage to get Simon, Tori, and myself out of here, the Edison Group was going to use us as weapons of mass destruction. More importantly, if I didn't get out, there would be nothing to distract me from the grief that had happily inhabited my soul since I'd watched Derek die. There would be nothing to distract me from the soul-crushing reality that was my reality now: he was never coming back, no matter how badly I wanted him to.

It was time I accepted that reality.

So I did the only thing I could do at that point.

"Liz? Are you there? I need your help."

A/N: OMG, I cannot believe I just wrote that in less than 2 hours! (On the other hand, I also cannot believe that it is 4am, I am awake, and my sister will be waking me up to go work out at 8am…)

ANYWHO, here's the summary of In My Arms (it's a one-shot for now, but there is a possibility I might expand it if I get enough positive feedback):

Chloe Saunders is a girl shrouded in mystery. Derek Souza is the boy who wishes he could figure her out.

Chloe is a quiet girl with a mysterious past who arrives at the safehouse where Derek lives. He can hear her crying every night through the paper-thin wall that seperates their room, but she never tells him what her nightmares are about or why he is NEVER to wake her up. Can he figure out why she cries in her sleep every night, or will her past remain a secret forever?

So… yeah. Go check it out and maybe leave a review? That would make me love you forever, basically.

Anyways, please let me know what you guys thought of this chapter! How was the dream sequence? What did you think of Simon's reaction? Lemme know!

REVIEW! :)