Since only the first seven groups (out of fifteen) were able to be shown the dropping-the-gummy-bear-into-the-potassium-chlorate demonstration, we continued with the lab today. Almost everyone was completely finished with the worksheet we had been given, so anyone who was not at the hood with our Chemistry teacher were either texting their friends, sleeping, or doing homework from other classes; I had finished my worksheet (and Mason did too, but just from copying off of me or asking what I got for the answer to the question) and we were one of the first two groups to go back to the hood. We put on our safety goggles and the teacher dropped the gummy bear into the test tube, quickly pulling down the hood, but not all the way.

Something went wrong, and the test tube and it's holder tipped over, shooting the gummy bear out of it and into the classroom. It came in my direction, and using my werewolf reflexes, I ducked out of the way. But when I ducked, I had put my arms up to cover my face - just in case, you can't be too careful. I didn't want to lose an eye - and the lightly burning gummy bear came in contact with my skin, leaving a small trail of burned and scarred skin on my forearm. My hand instantly shot to the area, covering it up as I was crouching on the ground.

"Oh my - are you okay?" the teacher said, me becoming his first priority. Personally, I thought the flaming gummy bear should have been his first priority.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, feeling the burned skin change and heal under my palm.

.

The rest of class had gone without any other incidents and I was able to work on some homework I hadn't finished the night before for my last hour class. When I left the Chemistry classroom, I was still rubbing my arm where the flaming gummy bear had touched my skin, Scott appeared next to me. He walked in step next to me, before noticing me rubbing my arm.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm fine." I was still really weirded out about the regenerative healing thing. It was creepy weird.

"Completely sure?"

"As sure a flaming gummy bear."

"What?" he asked with a confused look.

"Nothing," I said, a small smile on my face.

.

After a "fend for yourselves" dinner, provided by Melissa, who was working late at the hospital, I went directly up to my room. I worked on homework, laid on my bed staring at the ceiling thinking about life and how small humans are in actual comparison to the universe, danced around a little bit, and got out clothes for tomorrow after I gathered up supplies from my room to take a shower.

Back in my room, a ran a brush through my hair and did a little more dancing before I was as drowsy as ever, ready for sleep. School was so draining sometimes it was ridiculous. I crawled into bed and made a cocoon of my blankets, hoping I could get as much sleep as possible.

I was standing back in the living room. My living room. Everything looked normal; nothing ruined, nothing broken. The whole house was quiet. I glanced around before deciding to head up the stairs to my bedroom. I went up the stairs, going all the way down the hallway, pushing open the slightly ajar door to my room. Blankets were strewn across the floor and there was a shredded pillow on my bed, along with slash marks along with wall, pieces of ripped posters littering the floor. I backed out of the room and closed the door gently, thinking nothing of what I saw in my room. I walked back down the hall to my mother's room, pushing her door open, to find her room empty as well, the bed neatly made - unlike my own. I was just about to leave the room and close the door when I heard a blood-curdling scream come from downstairs. I ran down the remaining portion of the hall and went down the stairs as fast as I could without tripping, only to be frozen at the foot of the stairs because of what I saw at the bottom. I couldn't be seeing this. No, I didn't want to see this. I never wanted to, ever again. Once was enough, two times was complete torture. It began to feel like an out-of-body experience, things blurring together and I didn't really feel like I was in control anymore. I couldn't stop it. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. I couldn't move even though I desperately wanted to, and was trying to, with no result. I was stuck, my body not obeying my brain's commands. I flinched at every scream and every slash, helpless to stop myself from watching or simply close my eyes. I just couldn't do it. The whole thing was going in slow motion, drawing out every single second of the experience; and every second of it was pure agony.

I was suddenly awake, the dream was still fresh in my mind, and I began to panic.

"Natalie. Natalie, you've got to calm down," a voice said. Scott. It was Scott. He was holding my wrists, claws protruding from my fingers. I could see a slash mark across his chest in the fabric of his shirt, the skin completely normal underneath. I had swung at him. Oh god, was that the first time? Or had a done more? I just couldn't take it. I just broke down crying, the claws disappearing, unintelligible words coming out of my mouth. Scott just pulled me into his arms, running a soothing hand through my hair. "Hey, shh, it's not real Nat. It's not real."

"It is real. It was real," I muttered between sobs, but he could hear what I had said.

"Nat," he said gently, lifting my chin to look at him and wiping some of my tears with his thumb, "it's not real anymore."

I just nodded, unable to bring myself to words. Without warning, he just lifted me up with my blanket, but I was too worn out and teary-eyed to even react. He carried me from my room and down the hall, to his room, and set me down on his bed, following short after. He pulled the blanket from the foot of the bed over us, and I wiped my eyes and damp face with the blanket Scott had taken from my room. He pulled me back closer to him, resuming to run his fingers through my hair. I was still crying, but I couldn't really stop it. I guess I had been bottling up all my sadness and whenever I started to cry it just came out and I was unable to do anything to do it. There was some sniffling, too, but at least that meant the end of crying was near.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, picking at his shirt where I had torn it.

"For what?"

"Attacking you. Ruining your shirt. Making you deal with me when stuff like this happens." I wiped my face with my blanket again.

"It happens; just the daily life of a werewolf."

"No, it doesn't. Normal werewolves don't have crippling nightmares about their dead mothers."

"Okay, maybe it is you-exclusive."

"You won't be there all the time, if stuff like this continues to happen."

"Maybe I want to be there for you when stuff like this does happen," he said, but something changed in his voice, and I could hear his heartbeat pick up.

"You mean like..?"

"Well, I mean, we're already sleeping together," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't forget we made out in the forest. Twice."

"Yeah, we did do that," he said, finding my hand and lacing his fingers with mine.

"So we're dating now?"

"Yep."

"Cool."

.

We fell asleep, my head pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around me, our legs tangled together.

A/N: Okay, I would've posted this yesterday but due to the little "manage stories" error I couldn't. (Also excuse the completely shitty plot in this chapter {and that it is super short} I just needed something to work around the last plot point. Please don't kill me.)

Anyway - how about ship names for Scott & Natalie? Scotalie? Natt? Honestly I can't think of any decent ones.

ALSO WHAT DID YOU THINK OF ANCHORS? PERSONALLY, I AM EMOTIONALLY DISTRESSED BY THE EPISODE.