A/N: Hi, strangers. Feels like forever since I've posted.

Since I can't respond to your lovely guest reviews through PM's, I'll do it here, since there are quite a few of you.

bluescarfman (Even though you reviewed chapters 36 and 35, I'm just gonna respond here): I'm so glad you liked it. Please don't die! Here's a new chapter for you. (And I agree, Poor Unfortunate Souls is the best.)

gemma: Don't worry, the fight scenes are coming! Just have to get it up to that point... :)

anon: Yes. I definitely am going to keep going. There's a whole lot of stuff left to come... and at least one more book after this one's over.

raven: Now. The next chapter is being posted now. :D

So, thanks for putting up with the long A/N, and please...

Enjoy!

(and maybe leave a review?)

FOURTEEN

Looking up, there's always sky

Rest your head, I'll take you high

We won't fade into darkness

Won't let you fade into darkness

Why worry now? You'll be safe

Hold my hand, just in case

And we won't fade into darkness

Fade into darkness

No, we won't fade into darkness

Fade into darkness

- "Fade Into Darkness," Avicii

She was floating in the dark, and the only sound was a heartbeat.

It was a little cold, and she could see her breath.

She floated on her back, breathing in, and out. In, and out.

After a while, she began to think.

Where am I?

"With me."

The voice echoed in her head. It was a dream, then.

"Not a dream. Come on, Alana."

Oliver?

"Yep."

She tried to speak, but couldn't. How are you here?

"More like how are you here."

A lump got stuck in her throat. Am I…

"Dead? Kind of. Not exactly."

How can I be "not exactly" dead, Oliver?

"I wondered how long it was going to take until you got annoyed with me."

She floated a bit more in silence. Then the thoughts came rushing out. Oliver, I'm sorry. So sorry. I tried – I couldn't –

"It's all right."

Don't even go there, Oliver. You're dead. I'm dead. And you were ten. You were my responsibility, and… I failed.

"You're not dead. I told you that already."

It doesn't matter.

"Of course it matters, 'Lana."

The nickname he used to call her tore at her heart. Oliver… can I die now? Please? I don't want to feel anymore. I don't want to be here anymore.

"Are you sure?"

Yes. No. I don't know…

She felt a hand stroking her hair, someone holding her. A drop of water fell on her cheek.

"You haven't been very nice to him."

Like I bloody care. I'm dying, not him.

"I think he likes you."

Yes. He does. And I'm dying and you want to talk about him?

"Well, I think Mommy and Daddy might not approve, but you've never exactly looked for that in guys."

Shut up.

"Can't stop me!"

She lay there in stoic silence.

"'Lana? Are you still there?"

She sighed. Yes.

"You have to choose now."

Choose what?

"Well, you can fight and go back, or you can die."

I have to fight?

"Well, yeah. I mean, you're not dead, you're just stuck. You're gonna die, though, if you don't make up your mind. You only get a little more time."

I don't know what to do.

"You can't give up, Alana. You owe that to me. To Mommy and Dad."

An afterthought, "He probably wouldn't be too happy if you died, either."

What should she do?

Oliver kept talking. "He was nice, and then scary, and then nice-ish. But he looks pretty cool, I guess. But his hair's really long. I think Mom would make him cut his hair." He paused. "Are you gonna get married?"

Oliver!

"You are! Ha! I knew it!"

Oliver, I swear –

He laughed. "Go back, Alana. Okay? I have to go now."

Where?

"Back inside your head. Duh."

But how do I go back?

"I think you have to try and move."

That's it?

"Yeah. I think so."

But I can't.

"Well, what's the point of being a superhero if you can't use your powers? And by the way, your powers are super cool. I don't know why you didn't tell me. We could have fought crime together!"

But I don't know how.

"So figure it out. But you should hurry."

Oliver…

"Yeah?"

I'm sorry. And I love you.

"I love you too, 'Lana."

Silence reigned, except for the heartbeat.

A heartbeat that was slowly slowing down…

She thought, desperately. How do I use my powers? Oliver? But there was no answer, and she was left trying to force her muscles to move, her mouth to twitch, her eyes to blink, anything.

Because at the end, when it mattered, she didn't want to die, didn't want to give in. She didn't want him to be left alone. She wanted to feel again, to smile and laugh.

She would not give in.

Instead of trying to force her muscles to move through her (at the moment non-existent) telekinesis, she reached into her mind to find her telepathy, letting it sweep her away.

It wasn't feeling, wasn't seeing, but it was there – he was there, a bright light, arms around her, holding her. And yet she was still floating in the dark.

And her breaths were coming more slowly now, the fog in the cold was dissipating more quickly.

And she heard him whisper, "Don't give up," and she screamed, silently, wordlessly, she needed to go back now, but her chest was burning, her breathing was labored, and it kept getting colder and colder and colder.

Another drop of water fell on her face.

She closed her eyes, calming herself, exploring her mind. She came to a corner that she hadn't remembered before and probed it cautiously, feeling the power surging within it.

She tried to breathe but this time no air came, and – how long was it before she died? Think, Alana, think – and she reached into her mind, trying to recall the sole anatomy class she had taken when she was fifteen.

Move.

She floated, black spots in front of her eyes.

Move.

She pushed harder, trying to contract her muscles.

Move!

And she fell, far and fast, back down, back down to the kitchen and the white floor and the god with eyes rimmed with red, who held her tight as her hand tightened in his and she took a shuddering breath – never had air tasted so sweet – and he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"You're safe," he whispered. "You're safe. I'm here."

And oddly enough, she believed him.

She sat, huddled, on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her and a steaming mug in her hands.

He sat opposite her, perched in a chair, hands folded under his chin, assessing her.

She sighed. "Really, Loki. I'm all right."

"Of course." But he did not move, did not drop his gaze from her.

They sat in silence as she sipped her tea.

"I feel… older," she said, her eyes hesitantly meeting his. "Like I just aged a year. In ten minutes."

He tapped a finger on his chin. "Probably a side effect. I'm sure it will disappear with time."

Another silence filled the room, and she seemed so far away…

"Loki. Stop looking at me like that."

He inclined his head in an apology as she got up, dropping the blanket on the couch.

She exhaled slowly, a hand twisting through her hair, walking into the kitchen. "I think we need to talk," she said, refilling her mug.

When he did not answer, she pressed harder. "We do, Loki, you know it."

"Yes," he said, standing up as well. "I agree." His eyes met hers and drifted away, down to the floor.

She leaned against the counter. "Do you want to take a walk?"

Sticks crunched under her feet as they walked through the woods, but his step was quiet and deliberate.

She stuck her hands in her pockets, and just looked at him, his pale skin looking almost ethereal in the half-light of the trees. His face was calm and impassive, except for a slight muscle, twitching in his jaw.

"Is something wrong, Loki?"

He let out a quiet sigh. "Your memories have returned. Nothing is wrong."

"I thought we weren't going to lie to each other any more."

"Alana, please. Be content with your memories. I will leave and you can get on with your life."

A half-smile passed across her lips. "Is that what you're thinking about, then? Having to leave?"

He did not answer, but continued to walk, feet picking out a careful path.

Her hand balled in her pocket, she wanted to reassure him, but knew that she shouldn't touch him. Her new memories kept filling her mind, pressing in on the reality she occupied now, trying to convince her no time had passed…

And she couldn't take it anymore and touched her hand to his shoulder, stopping him. He sighed and said, "Alana. You don't have to worry, I will go without a fight."

"Loki, please, just tell me what's wrong."

"And what would be the use?" he said roughly, stepping closer to her until she was inches away. "I will leave. You will forget, in time. And I will live, and live, and live, Alana."

His hand came up as if to hold her face, but he lowered it quickly. She took his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

"I'm never going to forget you, Loki. Not again," she said quietly. "I swear."

"Why are you doing this to me?" he whispered. "Stop this. Stop this, Alana, I can't – I don't - "

He took a deep breath and pulled his hand from hers. "I am leaving, Alana. And I could not – cannot leave you unless I know you do not want me. And all this," he said gesturing to her, to the trees, the very air around them, "all this makes me think I have a chance. Don't you see, Alana? Curse me, and I will leave in peace, I will go, attack me, hate me, do anything but comfort me, feel compassion for me." He spat the words at her, and she wanted to hold him, kiss him – damn these memories, I don't even know what I'm feeling anymore.

"I can't," she replied. "I can't, because I can remember now, and I remember what I promised you, Loki, I promised to pull you back from the dark and I need to do that now."

He looked at her sadly. "There is no hope for me, Alana."

"But there is," she whispered, and this time her hand came up to cup his face. "Because I promised."

"Alana, please." His fingers, long and pale, clasped gently around her wrist, pulling her hand away, but his hand lingered for longer than was necessary, fingers brushing against the pale veins of her inner wrist. She looked down at his hand, and he noticed, pulling away with a curse.

"Do you see what you do to me? How every second I am in your presence I long for you, your touch, your lips, your smile? Do you see how you torment me? I cannot stay, Alana, I cannot, because I cannot control my feelings. I thought I had accepted that, thought I could love you unconditionally, but I am selfish, I need your love as well. And since you cannot give that to me, I must go, I must go and try to make amends for what I have done, and perhaps then I will be worthy of you."

She stared at him. "Loki, I – "

He smiled bitterly. "Even to hear my name upon your lips is a blessing. How did you ensnare me so?" And then his lips came crashing down on hers, his hands pulling her close to him, and she kissed him back, hard and fierce, her hands weaving through his hair, and it was so right, finally, his lips on hers and the sweet taste of leather and metal that she had only just remembered –

He pulled away from her suddenly. "Damn it, Alana! Let me go!"

"I can't."

"An hour ago you wanted me to leave! And I was ready to, Alana, I would have left forever, and then - "

She crossed her arms. "You kissed me, Loki, and it's not like I didn't want you to."

He paced back and forth in front of her.

"Make up your mind, Alana. Am I to leave or stay? And make your decision now, make it quick, because I need to know now."