**A/N** So, I know I said I'd do another story closely aligned with the books, and about three weeks ago I wrote most of it when I went to visit family…. And promptly left it on their computer. Hopefully I'll see them soon, and finish that story, but in the mean time, this popped into my head and exploded from my fingertips.

I hope you enjoy.

Chapter One: Aerith's Theme

Final Fantasy Seven, Advent Children

Based on the characters from the Darkest Powers series, owned and created by Kelley Armstrong. May contain explicit excerpts from her writing, and such pieces and ideas belong to the original author.

It was too bright. I blinked hard until I could make out general shapes; the chair I sat on, a table beside me, a window in front of me. But no matter how much I blinked the room was still too bright; all of the furniture, the carpet, the paint, was in shades of white. Sunlight scored the room violently, and for a moment, I didn't see her.

She stood across the window from me, her bright blue eyes looking out to nothing, rich auburn hair falling delicately over her shoulders. She wore a white summer dress, her feet bare, and my heart ached at the sight of her. Because she was here, I knew that this was a dream, and I knew that when I'd wake up, I'd feel my loss all over again. My breath hitched at the thought, catching her attention. She turned to me, a graceful sway of her body, and a sob threatened to choke me, sorrow welling in my eyes.

"Derek, what's wrong?" I dropped my head into my hands, my tears overwhelming me. Her soft angelic voice washed over me, renting my heart in two. "Derek?" She touched a small hand to my shoulder, her heat radiating from her palm through my shirt, and I broke.

I reached out and pulled her in, burying my face against her, crushing her small frame to my body. And the tears; they wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop them if I tried. I gasped from the pain, a deep heaving breath, and her strawberry blossom scent came with it.

"God, Chloe," I wailed, the force of it cut by the soft fabric of her dress, by the realism of her body against my lips. She ran lithe fingers through my hair, grabbing onto both sides before pulling my face up. My chin rested against the center of her chest between two warms breasts, and I would've sworn her heart beat beneath it.

"Derek, what on earth has you so upset?" She looked worried for me too, genuine concern written in her wonderful blue eyes. I didn't want to say it aloud, had been avoiding doing so for nearly two months. But even though I could feel her, hold her, was moved every time she took a breath; I knew I had to tell her, because she asked.

"Chloe-" my throat closed up on her name, the word so taboo to my vocabulary that it was hard to say it twice. I closed my eyes, unable to gaze upon her as I spoke the words; "-you're dead." The sob came then, wracking my body with its force. I buried my face again, her supple body cradling me in a way that I hadn't felt in so long. Fresh tears stung my eyes and my fingers dug into her back. She bent over me, her strangely red hair brushing over my shoulders to envelop me further, her lips on my head and her scent everywhere.

"Derek, I'm not dead." I shook my head, her soft words too much, too innocent to be the truth.

"I saw, Chloe; I was there. I was there, and I failed. I wasn't enough-" bile rose, the stark honesty of my confession over encumbering my weary soul. Why- why would my mind do this, making me see her again, feel her again. It was too much to take.

She pulled me away again, this time gliding out of my weakened grasp. I flailed to catch her, fingers slipping clumsily against her cotton dress, but she caught my hand with her own. The sight of her smaller hand in mine made me bite my lip. God, I missed her.

"Come here Derek, let me show you." She pulled up, and unbelievably I got to my feet. I shook, but she led me slowly to the window. She resumed her previous position, staring out intently; the only difference was her hand in mine. I studied her for a minute more; the light pink flush of life on her cheeks, her long brown lashes, the slope of her pretty nose down to her petal-soft lips. "Look, Derek; let me show you."

Her repetition made me frown. It felt… creepy, like she was stuck to a pre-set script. Her eyes flitted up to mine, questioning before she gave me a small grin. "Please," she added, a laugh in her voice. I smiled, the old expression stretching muscles far underused, and I turned to look out the window too.

Instantly I reared back, but she held me steadfast, trapping me here to watch my worst nightmare. Outside of the glass, beyond the white room, was a loading dock. Specifically it was dock twenty-two on the edges of Astoria; the dock where Chloe died.

"Why are you showing me this?" Damn it, my anger imbued my words, and I felt the impulse to apologize. I swore that if I ever got the chance to speak with her again, it would only be in love, but this crossed a line I hadn't prepared for.

"Watch, Derek, and look closely."

"I can't," I admitted pitifully, looking down at her again. She put a hand on my cheek, silently encouraging me, giving me strength.

"You have to, Derek. Watch." We turned together, the dark night of the pier outside clashing surreally with the still sun-bright room we stood in. I could barely see through my blurry eyes, but I watched, for her.

I watched as Simon's fog-spell faded, revealing him and Tori on the far side of the dock, mere feet away from the edge. And I watched as dad physically pinned one of the cabal men before spell-tying him to the ground. And I watched as an enemy witch struck me with magical lightening, crippling me, my muscles seizing. I even watched as the clouds parted across the moon, showing me Chloe, her blonde hair falling lankly over her face as she knelt on the damp cement, concentrating on raising our fallen foes. There wasn't any sound in the dream, but my imagination filled it in, because I knew every minute detail about this moment.

Simon looked up sharply before turning back to the group at large, his voice breaking as he screamed Chloe's name. I closed my eyes and hung my head. I didn't need to see myself helpless on the ground, my face pressed into moldy wood and rusty metal as I watched the love of my life get shot down three feet away from me.

The Chloe with red hair clicked her tongue against her teeth in irritation. I looked down at her, confusion winning out over the grief for just a moment.

"You missed it again Derek, pay attention to me." My hand gripped hers tightly, too tight for real life, as anguish tore through me.

"I can't, please don't make me." I was begging now, shameful and cowardly, but she only gave me a small frown and squeezed my hand back.

"It won't be so bad Derek." She pulled me front and center, standing at my back, her cheek resting against my spine.

The scene started with Simon screaming. This time I noticed Tori running for Chloe, too. My eyes drifted over to her just as the bullet caught her, forcing its way through her heart. Her eyes went impossibly wide, drifting over to my doppelganger before glazing over, staring at nothing as life seeped out of her. She fell backwards, her head hitting the pavement silently in the dream, but she didn't move after that. Peripherally I watched myself snap the neck of the witch violently, nearly tearing her head straight off. I watched Tori fall to her knees so suddenly that the momentum of her running made her fall over Chloe, landing her on her other side as she shook her, slapping her face. Simon and Dad took out the rest of the enemies before they got Tori and me, including the sniper on top of the crane the next dock over.

I watched as my memory hit the deck harder than Tori had, and before I had even stopped sliding Chloe was in my arms. I watched, the third party point of view disorienting, as I gripped her to my chest, checking her vitals even though her already grey-washed eyes told me she was gone. I watched as I gave her CPR, over and over and over again, breath twice, pump twenty, breath twice, pump twenty.

The ache in my chest grew as I watched Simon pull me off of her, insisting we had to leave. I watched as my father bound me with a spell before forcibly dragging me away from the scene to our SUV. And I knew that, even now, they were throwing me in the car. That once the spell wore off I had hit my father so hard he had collapsed. And I knew that, not two miles of driving after that, I made them pull over, falling onto the side of the road, vomiting all of my stress and suffering onto dewed grass before changing almost instantly into a wolf and running away, howling loud enough for the angels to weep at my sorrow.

But the view from the window stayed, and instead of watching my grief, I watched as Chloe lay lifeless on the pier. The stillness of the scene haunted me, and all of the regret for letting myself be taken over by Kit's spell renewed itself and doubled. She shouldn't be alone, left to rot like so many of the other corpses she had risen herself. She should have been buried on hallowed ground, high up in the mountains with wildflowers growing over her and sunlight shining down on her.

"Chloe-" I whined, my resolve shattering again. I realized I was holding myself, trying to physically protect myself from the onslaught of my sorrow. She wrapped her arms around me from behind, her warmth sending goose bumps up my back and across my arms.

"Keep watching." So I did. I watched as three of the cabal men came back for her. I watched as one poured a potion down her throat before laying a hand on her chest, murmuring words I couldn't hear. And I watched as her left hand twitched, just once, before they hauled her up and away.

"You're torturing me." I finally said as the scene faded to the unassuming cloudy white that was there before. Her whole body startled against mine. She dropped her arms from my body and came around, her eyes searching my face.

"Excuse me?"

"You're torturing me; punishing me for not recovering your body, for not keeping you alive in the first place." I didn't say it angrily. I didn't say it with any infliction at all. I knew it was the truth. My mind was horrified that I had left her, and in the time I had taken to grieve, it had come up with the worst possible scenario it could use to disturb me.

"Derek, why would I do that?" I looked away, still hugging myself tightly, hoping to get out of this horrible room as soon as possible. I didn't answer her because I knew she would never do such a thing to me. But it wasn't Chloe who stood beside me, not really.

"When can I leave?" My back was to her when I asked, trying to come off as dispassionately as possible, hoping to trick my brain into thinking it wasn't affecting me. Because of this, I didn't see her attack coming. She pushed me, putting all of her weight into it, making me trip over my own feet before I reached out to the chair to steady myself. When I turned around I only caught a glimpse of her snarling face before she slapped me, her hand winding back before cracking against my cheek. I left my head down, ready to take her abuse.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Derek? Do you know how hard I worked to get here?" She sounded so desperate, so distraught that I pulled her into my arms again. She fought me, but I held her against my chest, cradling her small body against mine.

"Please Chloe, I don't want to fight." I took a deep breath against her hair and she relaxed into my arms. "I've missed you. I've missed you so much, Chloe." Tears ran quietly down my face as her hands came up to touch me, brushing everywhere from my elbows to my back. She tilted her chin up and kissed the front of my throat and I cried harder.

"It's okay, Derek. I should be able to see Tori again. It's okay." I heard her, heard the resolve in her voice, but I wasn't really listening. Instead I soaked the feeling of her into every cell of my body; I wanted to remember her, just like this, soft and affectionate against me, kissing and touching me freely. I wanted to remember, almost twice as much as my heart needed to forget.

She pulled away just enough to catch my lips with hers, slowly dragging me into her kiss, her mouth hot and giving beneath mine.

"I love you Derek."

I shot up in bed, the dark strangling me in comparison to the airy brightness of my dream's room. My oversensitive ears quickly picked up sleeping breaths and snores, paring them with the three quiet heartbeats in the small rundown apartment, including Simon's across the room from me.

It was just a dream.

I lay back down, wrapping my blanket tightly around my body, certain that, at any moment, I'd burst from the agony that destroyed me. I buried my face in Chloe's pillow and cried, taking care to make sure I didn't wake up my brother.