Hey guys! It's been a few weeks (three, technically), but you forgive me, right? :)

Happy belated Thanksgiving to all my amazing Canadian readers! I thought I was gunna be updating that weekend, but apparently my family had an insane weekend planned. Any crazy stories you feel like sharing? :P

Anyways, I don't have very much to say this week except THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed and is awesome for doing so, and A HUGEEEE thank-you (and a jar of pickles, because they are her weakness) to burning! You were such a big part of the process of writing this story, and if you ever showed up outside my house asking for my Christmas decorations, I would give em up in a heartbeat! ;) (BTW guys, go enter for a chance to win FIRELIGHT on burning's blog! www (dot) burningximpossiblyxbright (dot) blogspot (dot) com! It's an international contest, so everyone can enter, and from what I've heard, FIRELIGHT is amazing :P Check it out!)

That's all for now! Enjoy the chapter guys!

Disclaimer: Steph and Christina are animatedly discussing the 'bed intruder' situation in Lincoln Park, Alabama.

Steph: *Confused*
Wait, how does it go again?

Christina: *Sighs, 'cause this is like, the fifth time*
He's climbin' in yo window, snatchin' yo people up—

Steph: Stop! I don't get it!
*Shakes head*
How does he snatch people up? Wouldn't they notice? I mean, I'm sure they're not like Bella, who was completely oblivious to her little peeping-Tom situation…

Christina: *Rubs temples in frustration*
You know what, Steph? Never mind, okay? He's not snatchin' ANYBODY up!
*Shakes head*
Just… go write another chapter or something. I need to go drown my sorrows.

Steph: *Shocked*
But I thought… aren't you supposed to tell me that I don't own DP? That I suck at writing and that I'm destined to be 'forever alone' thanks to my weird reclusive habits?

Christina: Frankly, my sarcasm would be wasted on you.

Steph: But-!

Christina: Just get on with it already!

Steph: *Wide, puppy-dog-sadness eyes*
Kay…

Pressure II

It all comes down to this: make it or break it; win it or lose it.
And trust me: when you lose it, you lose it all.

-Anonymous

Five minutes after Tori's remark, we were on our way.

We had guessed that the walk would take us approximately three hours, factoring in Simon's stops to rest. He was looking greener by the minute, and I was starting to get that familiar feeling in my stomach - the sense of impeding dread. Simon could downplay the situation as much as he wanted to make himself feel better, but I knew the truth: time was running out, fast. We had no time to lose, and we knew it.

No one said a word for the majority of the trip.

We stopped after half an hour so Simon could rest. He argued relentlessly, telling us he was fine, he wanted to keep going - but after ten minutes of nagging, he reluctantly agreed to sit for a few minutes. The trees at the side of the road provided us with cover - we'd exited the forest, but the road we were following was lined with relatively young-looking oak trees - and we ushered Simon deeper, just in case someone drove by and wondered what we were doing. He reminded us once more that we were overreacting before sinking down to the ground and letting out a sigh of relief. Simon closed his eyes and leaned back against the trunk of a tree. He looked so young with his eyes closed: 12 at the most, but even with his eyes closed, you could tell that he'd been through a lot.

I couldn't help but feel a surge of sadness, thinking about where our lives had taken us in the past few weeks - what had happened to my best friend? To me? Our old lives seemed so simple now, and I found myself reminiscing about the days when all we had to worry about was what kind of game to play.

I studied Simon's face again, catching Tori's eye beforehand. She has been watching him anxiously; biting her lip with such force that I was amazed it hadn't began to bleed yet. I knew why she was worried, of course: Simon looked deathly pale, and his eyes were shut tight - he either had a headache or felt dizzy, and neither of these things was a good sign.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice hoarse after not talking for so long.

"Yeah," he whispered, his eyes closed. "I just... need a minute," he said, his tone apologetic.

"Take all the time you need," Tori said, speaking for the first time since her Hannibal comment. "We'll be watching the road, all right?" Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed my arm, dragging me away from the cover of the trees and onto the side of the road.

She let go once she was sure we were far enough away not to be heard.

"He's-" she began.

"-getting worse. Fast," I finished. "I know, Tori, but what could I possibly do for him now? We have nothing to give him..." Like it or not, we were pretty much helpless: we had no choice but to stand back and watch Simon suffer until we could get him his medication.

She shook her head. "This doesn't make sense!" she hissed. "I had a friend who was diabetic, and even when she forgot to take her insulin after a big meal, it never got anywhere near this bad so quickly!"

It's because he was still weak after his last 'episode', I realized. Two attacks within the span of 2 days? His body must be completely drained.

I couldn't tell Tori that, though. "It's probably from all the stress," I lied. She nodded, accepting my explanation, and I felt a stab of guilt - Tori trusted me completely, and I'd done nothing but lie to her lately. She cared about Simon, too, which was harder to see than I liked to admit - she'd only known him for a few weeks, and I'd been his best friend for years.

I should've been the one there comforting him, I thought, remembering the way she'd been crouched down on the ground next to him, whispering comforting words. Had Tori filled my position of 'best friend' so quickly? How had I not noticed it happening? I knew I'd been distracted a lot lately, and maintaining my friendship with him hadn't exactly been the top thing on my list of priorities after Derek's death, but had Simon really gone and replaced me with Tori? I didn't think so – I knew I was probably overreacting, anyway. It takes a long time to build a relationship as strong as ours with a person, and Tori and Simon hadn't bonded nearly enough yet, unless…

I knew it was stupid to worry about something like that when all of our lives were in danger, but the mix of guilt and something else I was feeling - jealousy, maybe? - urged me forward and begged me to find out what had happened. I was an anal-retentive organized control freak at heart, and losing Simon would be my breaking point, end of story - like being thrown into a state of total chaos without a to-do list and a flow-chart.

I cleared my throat. "T-Tori, do you...is there something going on between you and Simon?" I asked, the memory of Simon asking me that same question flooding my mind:

"Chloe?

I'd blushed then, embarrassed by my lack of attention span and feeling guilty about where my mind had been at the time. "Sorry about that, Simon. I just kinda zoned out there for a minute."

"It's alright. I was just gunna ask you something, but I don't know if-"

"No, no! You know you can ask me anything, Simon! What's the question?"

He looked around the room, refusing to meet my gaze. "I feel like a complete douche-bag for asking, and it's probably none of my business, but… is there something going on between you and Derek?

"No way!" I'd laughed so artificially that there was a bad taste in my mouth – probably because he hadn't been very far from the truth."Me andDerek? Are you serious, Simon?"

"I told you it was a stupid question," he'd mumbled.

"Trust me Simon, there is absolutelynothinggoing on between Derek and I," I'd told him.

"I do trust you! It's just… you would tell me if there was, wouldn't you?"

"Definitely; you know I wouldn't hide something like that from you!"

I'd lied to him then; of course there had been something going on between Derek and I. Simon had known it, too - known I'd lied to him. He'd followed Derek through the woods to my house and watched us talk for hours, realizing how deep our betrayal ran.

Add to that: the fact that Derek and I had fallen asleep together underneath our tree in my backyard, and you had a recipe for disaster.

"Did you seriously think I wouldn't notice that you left home at 8 every day and didn't come home until past 3am?"

I remembered Derek's silence – the way he'd just sat there and taken it, knowing I was there, aware of what was going on. It'd been my fault, but I'd let him take the blame for it all.

"Did you think that I didn't know about how close you guys have become? I can see it every time I come to see Chloe – she doesn't even stop to say hi before asking about you! I kept telling myself that you would never do that, because you knew how I felt about her, and I thought you were a good brother. I told myself you were going for a run, or walking around town, or something; but then I followed you here one night, and you spent hours with her, just talking, like it was no big deal that you were betraying me!"

"Where- why would you ask that?" Tori's voice broke through the rush of memories, bringing me back to the present.

"I..." I faltered for a moment, unsure of what I should tell her. I eventually decided something close to the truth would be best: "I can tell that you really care about him," I whispered, looking around anxiously in case Simon had gotten up and tried to find us. "Not many people would sit through puke-a-palooza to try and help someone they barely know..."

She bit her lip - again - before responding. "No! I don't like him, all right?" She paused for a moment, "Or at least, I don't think I do..." She said, trailing off. She took a deep breath and began to explain.

"With Simon, I don't feel like he's someone I could ever picture myself with. He's just so... familiar, ya know? I felt like I'd already known him for years when you introduced us," she admitted. "And I feel like... I feel like I have to protect him; like it's my job or something."

I nodded, reliving another conversation I'd almost forgotten about:

"My dad told me. He used to be high up in the ranks," Derek had explained; so many things had changed since (and because of) that night – it was hard to believe that it'd only been two months... "He was a pretty big deal until he realized what they were doing was wrong. After that he left and joined up with the rebellion - which he's now in charge of – and went into hiding."

"Maybe... Maybe you met when you were younger and forgot about it?" I ventured. "Your parents both worked for the Edison Group at one point, didn't they? Maybe they brought you both to work one day, and you-"

"-went to the Edison Group's twisted version of daycare together?" She finished, raising an eyebrow at me. "I think I would remember playing in the sandbox with him..." She shook her head. "That would make sense, but... I don't think that's it."

I was determined to help her figure it out. "Well then-"

"Guys?" Simon's voice sounded from the direction of the spot where we'd left him.

Tori and I locked eyes, communicating silently. We'll discuss this later.

"Coming, Simon!" I called, helping Tori to her feet. We brushed our jeans off and made our way back to the spot, the conversation we'd just had hovering in the air between us. I felt paranoid - like Simon might know we were talking about just by seeing the look on our faces – but reminded myself that even if he had, we hadn't been discussing anything that bad…

I should've remembered how observant he was.

"You guys look guilty," he said, smiling. He still looked green, but if he'd decided he was done resting, we weren't going to be able to convince him to stay any longer.

I racked my brain for something to say – I couldn't exactly tell him we were talking about him, after all.

"Well… I didn't want to tell you this, but Tori was practicing her spells on the forest creatures... I think she might've 'terminated' Fluffy, if you know what I mean."

"Fluffy?" he repeated, looking suspicious.

I shrugged. "He was just this rabbit we found. It's a shame, too – he had a wife, a couple of kids…"

Simon looked horrified. "Tori, please tell me she's joking," he said, eyes wide and hopeful.

Tori shrugged nonchalantly. "Sorry HP, but my lethal energy-bolts were getting a bit rusty, and Fluffy… well, he was in the wrong place at the right time." She smiled wickedly, flexing her fingers.

I heard him mumble something that sounded a lot like 'murderers' before telling us he was ready to get going again.

We started walking, but I hung back and let Tori and Simon walk together for a while so I could gather my thoughts; something was bothering me about the way Simon had just accepted our story about the rabbit.

A few months ago, he would've known I was lying. He would've know that I would never let Tori hurt an innocent creature like that… what happened to the boy that knew me better than I knew myself?

My inner voice supplied the answer.

What something happened to the girl who trusted him with her secrets? The one who trusted him with her thoughts and her opinions and little bits and pieces of her heart? She broke his heart once, and now she's changed so much he doesn't know who she is anymore.

For once, I agreed whole-heartedly.

I rejoined Tori and Simon after a few minutes of walking behind them, falling into place next to Tori. We were flanking him – one of us on either side – and I remembered Tori's earlier confession: "I feel like I have to protect him; like it's my job or something."

Simon refused to take another break, and we spent the rest of the trip in complete silence. I wanted to do something, to cut the tension between us, but every time I opened my mouth to say something, I found myself closing it. I had no idea what I could say – I was keeping secrets from both of them, and it was like trying to avoid looking at the big pink elephant in the room. Needless to say, I knew it was probably a better idea to keep silent and let the words die on my lips than open my mouth and say something I would regret…

After another hour or so, the trees began to look familiar, and I ended my self-imposed vow of silence. "We're getting close, aren't we? I feel like I've been here before…"

Simon didn't say anything; he simply nodded, confirming my theory and sending my mind reeling with questions.

I wonder what it'll be like, being there. Will it make me feel better, being in a place where he spent so much time? Or will it just make it hurt more? I tried to picture Derek's house – tried to picture what it would feel like to be there, standing in his kitchen and gathering supplies – but I couldn't piece together an image, and it was too hard to think about for extended periods of time. I decided to try and keep my thoughts as far away from Derek as possible, because if I didn't, things were going to be a hundred times more difficult.

A thought struck me then: what about MY house? Are Lauren and Andrew still looking for me? I nibbled on the inside of my cheek as I considered the possibilities – Did the Edison Group leave my note for them to find, or did they want me to seem like I didn't even care enough to leave a letter before disappearing? I wondered. Do they still have search parties out searching the forest? I really hope not, considering how cold it's been the past couple of days – those poor people must've frozen to death looking for me in this cold…

An idea began forming in the back of my mind: what if I were to sneak over to Lauren and Andrew's house and leave a letter or some kind of note telling them that I was safe? They needed to know I was all right so they wouldn't worry, after all, and it wasn't like the Edison Group would find out about it right away – they were having a hard enough time finding us.

Unless they're still watching the house, dimwit.

I thought it over for a minute.

Considering the risk we were already taking just going back there, it probably wouldn't make a difference either way… besides, who would expect us to return home after the ordeal we'd been through? Home was last place any sane or rational person would go while running from the law (or in this case, a crazed group of scientists bent on world domination).

And if, for some reason, the Edison Group was still watching the house? I didn't consider the possibility for very long – Simon, Tori, and I had been in their custody for almost two months, so they really had no need to be watching our houses – they'd probably removed all of their guards the moment they'd captured (or re-captured) us.

It all made sense in my head, but that was probably because I was so keen on convincing myself that it would be okay to go back for a little while. The truth was, I was afraid.

Actually, afraid probably would have been the understatement of the century. I was terrified. And not only because of the very real chance that we would be captured by the Edison Group again, OR because of the fact that the cold feeling I'd had the entire trip – the sense that we were being watched by someone or something – was getting stronger the closer we got to the house.

It was because we kept saying we were going 'home', but I knew that home couldn't possibly feel like home without him.

For almost seven years, 'home' had meant Derek, Simon, and I sitting for hours in my backyard, talking, joking, and fooling around. For the past couple of years, home had been the place where Derek and I could talk about everything and nothing until I finally managed to forget about everything that was going on around me and just relax. Home had been Simon's crooked smile and Derek's rumbling laugh – so rare that we always froze in place when we heard it, just to be sure. Home was NOT the cold, empty house I shared with Lauren and Andrew, and it definitely wasn't the bubble-gum-barf room I'd been inhabiting since Andrew and Lauren had adopted me.

'Home' had never been just a place; I'd always wondered how people could confuse a house for a home, because the distinction was so profound in my eyes. To me, 'home' was the people and the feelings and the memories that they shared – the bond that kept them together. Home was the place you could feel safe – where nothing could touch you, because you knew that you would always be warm and safe and loved inside its walls. Until my parent's accident, home had been where I knew I would always live happily with my parents and (eventually) a younger brother or a sister. Home used to be a place where I'd thought there were no secrets…

Except there were secrets, I recalled. My mother, and possibly my father as well, had known about the Edison Group and the supernatural community and everything else connected to this world, and they'd kept it all from me, as if it would've been better for me to learn about my powers when they began to destroy my life instead of being well-prepared and training to use them properly before they began to manifest themselves...

Maybe they were going to tell me. Maybe they were planning to tell me on my birthday or something – either way, I'll never know now…

After the accident, I'd sat in my bed in the orphanage night after night, praying that I would be rescued from the cold, institutionalized setting by people who had a home – not just any ol' house. I dreamed of a place with photos on the mantel and drawings on the fridge and stacks of photo albums stacked haphazardly in the family room. I thought my prayers had been answered when Andrew and Lauren had appeared, ready to adopt me, but after a few months of living with them, I'd realized the truth: their 'home' wasn't a home at all – it was a prop, something to show to anyone who bothered visiting. See those pictures of us on the walls? We're just one big happy family!

Looking back, I realized I couldn't put all the blame on my adoptive parents. They were just trying to make sure I had everything I needed, right? It probably hadn't helped the atmosphere of the house that I'd avoid them for days on end, dreading the moment when they'd try to strike up a conversation with me.

Lauren and Andrew might have been absentee parents, but you weren't exactly perfect, either - you were a bad daughter. There's no use trying to deny it...

"-there's no use trying to deny it!"

"What?" I came spinning back to reality, sure I'd heard wrong.

Tori studied my face anxiously for a moment before rearranging her features into a mischievous grin, so quickly I would've missed it if I'd blinked. She twirled a piece of hair around her finger before she spoke, not missing a beat. "Oh, I was just telling Simon that he should hide his stack of Playboys under his bed before we go in – to uphold his reputation, ya know? He wouldn't want us thinking he's one of those guys, now would he?"

I copied her grin, playing along. "Oh! You know, I thought I saw one of those sticking out of your bag once, Simon. I had no idea you were into that kinda stuff!"

"Guys, stop it. This is getting seriously weird." Simon chuckled nervously and grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck – one of his nervous habits - as if pulling it out would make us change the subject.

Tori rolled her eyes halfheartedly and shrugged. "I was getting bored anyway. Now, how far is it to your place, HP?"

"About a half a mile, I think… and don't call me that, Tori. It's getting old."

He was right. Glancing around quickly, I could almost make out the entrance to the forest where I'd followed the three boys back when I was 14 – back when I still had no idea what I was capable of. I winced at the memory, pushing it back down and burying it amidst other things I had no intention of bringing up ever again, like the night I'd watched Derek—

Stop it. This isn't getting you anywhere.

I shook my head, trying to stave off the nervous energy I was feeling coursing through my veins. It was the fear of not knowing what was going to happen – the fear of the unknown, I guess. Who hasn't felt that rush when you do something you know you'll get in trouble for doing, or that weightlessness that comes with letting go for a while?

Not me, of course (imagine - someone who can raise zombies and control the dead getting drunk!), but I guessed that what I was feeling at that moment was pretty darn close to all that…

We walked the rest of the way in measurable silence – I figured that the nervousness had gotten to Simon and Tori as well, but I never asked – preferring instead to try and figure out a way to convince Simon and Tori to let me go back to my house for a few minutes, and to ponder the reason behind me never having set foot in the Bae's home.

After a few minutes of that, though, my mind began to wander again.

I wonder what Derek's room is like…?

I threw on the mental brakes before I could even begin to imagine the possibilities, and my inner voice was thrown into lecture mode.

You have to stop this! Out of sight, out of mind, remember? You have to stop thinking about him, or else you're gunna end up right back on the floor with a sharp object in your hands, and this time Liz won't be around to save you!

I forced myself to concentrate on other things; looking around, I realized we were getting closer and closer to Lauren and Andrew's – my stomach churned, thinking about how worried they'd probably been over my disappearance. It was then that I made my decision: I was going home again, no matter what.

I turned to Simon, intent on telling him, but something held me back: he was looking even sicker than he'd looked less than 20 minutes before, and I was sure my little announcement wasn't going to do anything but stress him out and make it worse. I'll wait until we're done at Simon's, I decided. That way, Tori and Simon can come with me, and we can leave right after I do what I need to do.

I was becoming more anxious by the second, thanks to the ever-present little voice:

This is going to go horribly, horribly wrong.

It took us another 15 minutes, but we eventually managed to reach the house.

I thought it was quite the achievement, considering Simon and Tori had gotten into a heated argument during the last stretch of the journey. I hadn't bothered taking the time to find out what they were fighting about/over, but whatever it was, it was bad enough to keep them from speaking to each other.

After taking a few seconds to study the house, I realized one thing: this house had definitely been a home. The dark-brown bricks and the even darker-brown shutters and roof gave the place a cozy, cottage-y feel, and the Christmas lights (left over from previous years, I was sure) strung chaotically under the eavesdrops were missing quite a few bulbs. There were lawn gnomes scattered sporadically throughout the area of the lawn, and I had trouble containing the giggles that had somehow found their way up to my throat through all the butterflies in my stomach.

"Umm… are you guys ready to go in?" I asked, looking from Tori's face to Simon's. Simon was staring straight ahead at the house, completely silent except for the faint sound of his laboured breathing – I couldn't tell whether his silence was due to the fact that he was mad at Tori or because he was anxious to go in.

I was betting on the second option, because I knew Simon, and I knew myself, and I knew we were both terrified – no matter how cozy it looked from the outside, their house could never be a home to them again. Too many events had transpired since they'd shared this home, and one of the residents – one of the people that made the home what it was – was gone forever. There'd always be that missing link there, haunting them if they chose to return. I knew from experience – it would be better for them to cut their ties and start over.

Hypocrite. Is that how you would describe talking to your deceased mother for years after her death? 'Cutting your ties and starting over?'

"God, I'm so tired." Tori yawned into her hand and stretched, then cracked her knuckles menacingly. She turned to Simon. "Can we get this over with, or are you gunna make us stand out here all day?"

Simon rolled his eyes and strode forward without giving us so much as a warning. Tori and I had been waiting for some kind of signal from him to tell us when to approach the house, but apparently he didn't see a reason we'd need one – or he'd decided it'd be easier to act without thinking it over too much and giving himself the chance to change his mind.

We followed him to the door, where he bent down and picked up one of the gnomes. He flipped it over wordlessly and then – without warning – he swung his arm and brought it down on the side of the house. I froze the moment I realized what he was doing, but Tori was quicker than me – she pulled me back by the sleeve of my shirt and forced me to crouch down before the glass had even shattered.

And it was glass. I was confused for a moment, hearing the sound of glass breaking - everyone knows garden gnomes are made of the same ceramic materials as plates – but the sound was undeniable.

While I pondered the reason anyone would have a glass gnome in their front yard, and why, for that matter, Simon would want to smash said lawn ornament, Tori went into full freak-out mode.

"What in the FUCK was that?" she shrieked, standing up again. She looked ready to bite his head off, and at that point, I was almost about to let her.

I saw Simon shrug, then, "I had to get the key," he explained, showing us the key-chain that had been concealed inside the gnome he'd just destroyed. I thought it was a clever idea – hiding the spare key in plain sight like that – but the retrieval process was a little too violent for my tastes.

Tori calmed down a little, but you could still practically see the smoke coming out of her ears. "And you couldn't have warned us beforehand? Would it really have been so hard to say, 'hey guys, I'm gunna go all badass Chuck Norris on this here lawn gnome, so watch out!'?"

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. It was such a contrast: on the one hand, we had a horrible situation that had led us to where we were now – desperate, alone, and scared – and on the other hand, we had Tori, helping us forget and keeping us sane. She always managed to add humor to the situation, and I was almost sure that without her around, Simon and I would have… well, I wasn't quite sure what we would've done, but I knew it wouldn't have been what we needed to do… how could we have? We were both so affected by Derek's death that neither of us was in any position to lead the other.

"Sorry…" Simon mumbled, his voice half-muffled by the wind. It was starting to pick up, contributing to the already frigid temperatures we'd been experiencing since the other night. He slid the key into the lock and pulled on the doorknob, simultaneously twisting the key so the door wouldn't stick. It swung open and he walked in, not bothering to look behind him to see if we were going in with him.

Tori and I exchanged an anxious look before following him inside.

The appearance of the outside of the house had made me expecting a cozy, cottage-style mishmash of old end tables and leather couches (or something along those lines; after all, it was a 'bachelor pad'…), but all we saw when we entered the foyer was a stack of boxes pushed up against a wood-paneled wall and a shabby old end table that'd been overturned. There were 2 hallways leading out from what must have been the living room, each with three doors placed down the length respectively. The walls (other than the wood-paneled one) were white, and the floor was made of faded oak.

There were no pictures on the walls, no photo albums stacked haphazardly in the corner, and no signs whatsoever that someone had ever lived here – let alone a family….

But I could feel him here, as if his presence was a part of the house itself. I felt something, like a little flashing light going off inside my brain, telling me: 'Derek was here! Derek was here! Derek! Derek!'

I didn't want that reaction - it made me feel hopeful, like he might walk through the door or something at any time. After all, no one ever really dies without leaving their presence somewhere - whether it be a park, a locker, or a house, we are affected by the places we go, and the places we go are - most times, almost unnoticeabley - affected by us as well.

Derek was here once, I told myself. But he is never coming back. It's time to accept it.

And that was it.

I tried to focus on something else, but in a house as empty as this, there wasn't much that could capture my attention and hold it for very long. Simon was standing, still as a statue, in the entrance to the living room. His back was to us since we'd just entered behind him, but we'd made no move to approach him – we could tell, even from behind, that he needed to be left alone for a few minutes...

Except we didn't know if he had a few minutes; judging by his not-so-logical behavior outside, he was having trouble concentrating and getting his thoughts together. Simon needed to get to his insulin stash, fast, and judging by what we'd seen of the house already, we'd be lucky if the fridge had survived whatever natural disaster had hit the place.

I cleared my throat. "S-Simon? Aren't you—where's the insulin?" I finished, deciding it would be easier for me to grab it for him: I didn't want him falling down the stairs or anything in the state he was in.

He shook his head and seemed to snap out of it; he finally entered the living room, abruptly turning right and disappearing through a door. I guessed it was the kitchen – there seemed to be a lot of natural light coming from the open doorway, and I'd read somewhere that kitchens were designed to do that sort of thing.

I stepped into the living room, feeling like I was invading someone's privacy by doing so – I had never been in anyone's house without their permission before. I was about to follow Simon into the kitchen when Tori put her hand on my arm.

"I'll look after Simon," she said, her voice low. "While I do that, you can go get cleaned up," she suggested.

I looked at her for a few seconds before reluctantly agreeing – I could see she wanted to talk to him, and besides – I had things to do.

Important things which may or may not have required me to 'search for a bathroom'…

I watched her go, then walked over to the mouth of the closest hallway – the one on the right hand side, next to the kitchen. As much as I wanted to explore the house – which, for the sake of being completely honest, was not a lot of 'want' at all – I knew there were things I needed to find.

Like the book Derek had always been reading when we were younger, and Kit's files on the Edison Group.

Tori had no idea that I wanted either of these things; in fact, I was almost certain she knew nothing about the book and only knew that the files contained stuff about us – the 'specimens'. She didn't know that Derek had been studying and researching everything supernatural since before I'd even met him, and she most certainly didn't know that he kept notes on every single thing he read about.

I needed to find that stuff, no matter how hard it may be to read it – to see his handwriting on the page and hear his voice in the writing – because it would give us the advantage we needed and the knowledge we were doomed without.

I opened the first door on the right: a bathroom, nothing special about it other than the SpongeBob nightlight still plugged into the electrical outlet. I smiled a little – it screamed 'Simon!'… or a least a pint-sized Simon.

I closed the door and kept going.

The next door on the right was a bedroom: sparsely furnished, with only one side of the bed unmade. The furniture was plain – nothing fancy – and it had the air of neglect, as if it wasn't used very often. This must be Kit's room. I closed the door and turned around.

There was only one door on the left side, and I was sure that behind it, I'd find Derek's room.

I wasn't ready.

I took a few deep breathes, and - remembering Simon's method from earlier – pulled the door open and strode in.

It was all for nothing, because it wasn't his.

Simon. The drawings taped, pinned, and stick-tacked to the wall were all drawn by the same artist, and as much as Derek had loved his adoptive brother, I doubted very much that this was how Derek would want his room decorated… I left the room, realizing that I'd been searching in the wrong hall way all along.

On the left-hand-side, the doors were spaced more evenly: one door at the end of the hall, and one on each side. Inside the door on the right was yet another bathroom – Derek's; I was sure. There were towels stacked neatly on the counter, as if he was about to return from some other part of the house and put away his laundry…

I walked out and closed the door behind me. No sense in having a nervous breakdown over a few towels, I rationalized.

I wasn't prepared for the door on the left.

Inside was one of the most beautiful personal libraries I'd ever seen. There were shelves on each wall, each so full of books that they looked like they were about to collapse.

I gasped – I couldn't help it, really – it's what all book-lovers do when entering an amazing library. Ever seen Beauty and the Beast? If you have, you'll understand.

I wanted to go inside – to get lost among the thousands of books – but now that I'd ruled out 5 of the 6 possible doors, there was no reason to stall. Plus, if there was one thing I already knew about this library, it was that Derek has spent most of his time away from me in one of the chairs by the window. His presence would be strongest here of all places, and I wasn't sure I was ready to handle that yet, considering my almost-meltdown over a bathroom.

I left the library and went to stand in front of Derek's door.

This is it, I thought, hands shaking as I reached for the doorknob. I turned it slowly, taking one last deep breath before I pushed on the door and let it slowly swing open.

A/N: Did you think I would actually end WITHOUT a cliffy?

Anyways, I hope you liked it! I have part 3 half typed and half imagined already, and I'm just itchin' to post it for you! Just 25 reviews and it's yours in less than a week, I swear!

Side note: Did you know they're combining all 3 DP books into one big book? It's out in Canada already, so pick it up if you don't have the books yet! (No, I was not paid to say that :P) PS: Does anyone have any idea why there's a key instead of Chloe's necklace on the cover?

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE! Please remember to REVIEW!