I'm back? Why, yes. And I have an end to this supposed to be one-shot. At least, I hope it is. I don't know anymore.

SPOILERS: Beautiful Creatures & Beautiful Darkness

Disclaimer: Not mine

Lightning flashed through the room, sharply illuminating every surface. The light flashed across carefully stained wood and caught on the wet trails down the young woman's cheeks. A large dog thumped its tail to the rains tattoo. Ghosts of memories flitted through Ravenwood in the twilight. She, the young lass, had heard once from her uncle that if you focused enough 'on the right kind of night, you could hear them.' As a child she grew fascinated with the thought. As a desperate niece she clung to it.

The house was quiet. A storm was raging, but the young woman's cries weren't from fear. They were of a sadness that tore her and a happiness that confused her. He had lived but he had died. She had killed him to save him. A sob scraped up her throat. He had known the entire time. He didn't remember what had happened, only the end. He was gone; wet from mingled raindrops and tears. He was alive; soaked completely through and shivering. It was too soon, too close to the demise she had been expecting, too different. They were right, of course. Half of her family was gone and the other half was broken, but pieced back. Her uncle and her boyfriend. Her past and her future. Her constant and her passion.

She missed him. A shiver ran through her. He had promised to keep her safe during these tempests. She knew it was a long shot. Hell, it was half-crazed. She thought, hoped, he would come back. He had during every storm; why would this be any different? She knew the key component that made it unique.

He wasn't there to comfort her. But he was, in the corner of her mind, exactly as he had been before. His dark eyes were thoughtful and caring. The faint remnants of a smile were still visible. She heard him as if he was there beside her while she broke apart. "It's okay, Lena. Close your eyes."

She followed the request, feeling slightly foolish to be taking orders from a memory. She stayed that way until she felt her resolve waning. It was childish to think something was actually going to happen. Her uncle had lied before. It was certain to happen again. As she was about to open her eyes he spoke again. "Focus." She flinched. It was as though he was right next to her. A quick pressure almost started on her shoulder.

She thought of the way his laugh rang even with the few times she had heard it. She traced the creases around his eyes from a time when he smiled more often. She remembered how expertly he had comforted her and how clumsily he accepted her love. A warm touch settled on her shoulder.

Her eyes flashed open, her gasp dying in her throat. Boo broke through the door, his dark eyes on Lena. She pulled him close and cried into his fur.

The air was thick with drunken slurs and high gasps. She had jumped on John Breed's motorcycle as soon as she could. Ridley and him were somewhere in the bar, in a less crowded part of the building. She was scanning the crowd when she heard her name softly spoken in the background of noise. She ignored the second and third. The fourth call was louder. Her eyes flashed to where the sound came from. Someone bumped into her then, effectively ending the focus. With a roll of her eyes and a swivel to see if Ridley and John were there, she left.

She leaned against the brick. It was colder than she had expected, but she welcomed it. It was quiet outside. The only sound besides her breathing was the music blaring in the bar. She could almost focus. She closed her eyes.

Whoever it was in there didn't know her. It was her mind playing tricks on her again, like the night before. The touch couldn't have been real, but, gods, did it feel enough to pull her down. She huffed. "Lena." Tears pricked at her eyes. "Lena, don't cry." She reprimanded herself. She was hearing things again.

You're not real. He wasn't there. It was impossible.

"I'm not dead."

Lena's eyes tightened. Bull, Uncle M. I killed you. She breathed a sigh. You're in the Gatlin cemetery, as you wanted.

"I'm not there, Lena." The touch occurred again, this time almost wiping her tears away. "I love you." She couldn't help replying.

"I love you, too." Come back to me.

She was tired. Tired of running. Tired of fate. Tired of destiny. At this moment, it doesn't matter how fatigued she is. Her figment was only a few yards away, disheveled and weak. She couldn't bring herself to care. He was alive. She felt the blood drain from her face. He looked exactly as she had imagined him, other than the eyes, of course.

She bolted to his side as soon as Abraham disappeared. She hadn't heard a thing since he came into view. He hushed her as she cried. He's dead. He's dead. Her common sense knew that to be true. Part of her was skeptical. The majority didn't give a damn. He's still here. If he was another imagination, she didn't care. It was too real. He gently touched her cheek, his touch warmed with blood.

It was a few days after they'd made it back to Ravenwood. She came to the conclusion he was real. He had slept most of the days away. She couldn't blame him. Currently, she was standing in front of the fireplace. She could hear him in the other room, his feet sliding a bit on the floor. She smiled softly. Alive. Something he had never been before, apparently. Boo's head lifted from his prone spot by the fire. He let out a faint bark. The dog's ears turned back slightly. A faint laugh came from behind her. When she glanced behind her, Macon was crouched and ruffling his fur. "Good job, old boy." His voice was a soft whisper.

When he stood and walked over to her, he laid his hand on her shoulder. She shivered at the touch. "Uncle M?"

She turned her head to meet his eyes. "Yes, Lena?"

"What did you do, in the Arclight?" His eyes narrowed slightly.

"I rethought most of my views on life." She nodded. "Lena, I don't understand-" She pushed a finger against his lips and kissed his cheek.

"It doesn't matter." His brow furrowed. He was about to ask another question. "I visited your grave. I could have sworn you were there." It was a partial lie, but something more sane that seeing him in the middle of a storm.

"I wasn't there, Lena. I'm sorry if I didn't hear you." She looked away for a moment.

"What were the chances it was going to be you?" He squinted a bit.

"It was inevitable, Lena, as pointless to resist as loving you."

"Thank you."

He huffed softly. "For what?" For keeping your promise. She allowed a tear to slip down her cheek.

"For coming back."