"If we die, we die together." She told him, holding his beaten face in her hands. He was losing strength, his wounds weren't healing and were still bleeding profusely. "You'll never get rid of me, either. No matter which side of the grave we're on. I'll haunt you, chase you all around eternity, whatever it takes, but it's you and me until the stars burn out."

One of the reasons why we crave love, and seek it so desperately, is that love is the only cure for loneliness, and shame, and sorrow. But some feelings sink so deep into the heart that only loneliness can help you find them again. Some truths about yourself are so painful that only shame can help you live with them. And some things are just so sad that only your soul can do the crying for you. She loved the guy. She did it for him. She would've done anything for him. Some people are like that. Some loves are like that. Most loves are like that, from what I can see. Your heart starts to feel like an overcrowded lifeboat. You throw your pride out to keep it afloat, and your self-respect and your independence. After a while you start throwing people out—your friends, everyone you used to know. And it's still not enough. The lifeboat is still sinking, and you know it's going to take you down with it. But Claire didn't give a damn, she was going to go down with a fight. She was going to go out with a bang.

Sooner or later, fate puts us together with all the people, one by one, who show us what we could, and shouldn't, let ourselves become. Sooner or later we meet the drunkard, the waster, the betrayer, the ruthless mind, and the hate-filled heart. But fate loads the dice, of course, because we usually find ourselves loving or pitying almost all of those people. And it's impossible to despise someone you honestly pity, and to shun someone you truly love. For this is what we do. Put one foot forward and then the other. Lift our eyes to the snarl and smile of the world once more. Think. Act. feel. Add our little consequence to the tides of good and evil that flood and drain the world. Drag our shadowed crosses into the hope of another night. Push our brave hearts into the promise of a new day. With love; the passionate search for truth other than our own. With longing; the pure, ineffable yearning to be saved. For so long as fate keeps waiting, we live on.

Because after all, heroes only come in three kinds: dead, damaged or dubious.

Derek might be damaged and so might she, but they weren't dead yet.

And they would keep fighting until the world ended.

The clue to everything a man should love and fear in her was there right from the start in the ironic smile that primed and swelled the archery of her full lips. There was pride in that smile and confidence in the set of her fine nose. Without understanding why Derek knew beyond question that a lot of people would mistake her pride for arrogance and confuse her confidence with impassivity. He didn't make that mistake. His eyes were lost swimming floating free in the shimmering lagoon of her steady even stare. Her eyes were large and spectacularly blue. It was the blue that skies are in vivid dreams. It was the blue that the sea would be if the sea were perfect.

Determination set in his heart. He was going to get out of this and then, they were going to go out on a real date.

One of the ironies of courage, and the reason why we prize it so highly, is that we find it easier to be brave for someone else than we do for ourselves alone. And whether she knew it or not, she was giving him the courage to fight - to win. He got to his feet and turned to face the Alpha Twins. Claire got to her feet aswell, standing tall.

"You want to play games?" Claire raised an eyebrow. "Then let's play." She took off at top speed, charging after one of the twins, slashing and clawing at any skin she could get under her nails.

The cloak of the past is cut from patches of feeling, and sewn with rebus threads. Most of the time, the best we can do is wrap it around ourselves for comfort or drag it behind us as we struggle to go on. But everythign has its cause and its meaning. Every life, every love, every action and feeling and thought has its reason and significance: its beginning, and the part it plays in the end. Sometimes, we do see. She saw it. This was her revenge. Her sacrifice for her mother. She dug her nails into the Alpha's chest and twisted. The screams were satisfying to her, a sick feeling taking over her.

Nothing on this planet can compare with a woman's love—it is kind and compassionate, patient and nurturing, generous and sweet and unconditional. Pure. If you are her man, she will walk on water and through a mountain for you, too, no matter how you've acted out, no matter what crazy thing you've done, no matter the time or demand. If you are her man, she will talk to you until there just aren't any more words left to say, encourage you when you're at rock bottom and think there just isn't any way out, hold you in her arms when you're sick, and laugh with you when you're up. And if you're her man and that woman loves you—I mean really loves you?—she will shine you up when you're dusty, encourage you when you're down, defend you even when she's not so sure you were right, and hang on your every word, even when you're not saying anything worth listening to.

And no matter what you do, no matter how many times her friends say you're no good, no matter how many times you slam the door on the relationship, she will give you her very best and then some, and keep right on trying to win over your heart, even when you act like everything she's done to convince you she's The One just isn't good enough. That's a woman's love—it stands the test of time, logic, and all circumstance. It was Claire. It was always her. He'd always come back to her and vice-versa. And no matter how many times he tried to be rid of her, Derek couldn't stand to be away from her. Damn his soul to hell if he ever thought there would be one day where he could live without her. He had dug his claws into the Alpha's neck and twisted, hearing the sickening crack of bones. The body fell to the floor and Derek look up at Claire.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet, there's still one more."

The feral scream pierced her ears. "And I think he's pissed."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: GOD, I KNOW THIS IS LONG OVERDUE, I know... I just ... I just didn't want to write. And for that, I'm sorry. I promise, I'll TRY and keep going with this story. Hope you like it! :)