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Thanks to Bronzehairedgirl for a wonderful beta.
by silly bella
I remembered her scream. I dreamed about it more often than I cared to admit. But in my dreams, no, my nightmares, I'm too late to save her. I'm not sure which is worse, that nightmare, or the one where she's a bloodsucker. Either way, that leech kills her every time.
What if I hadn't heard her? Hadn't been able to follow her over that cliff and pull her to the beach? Hadn't been a werewolf so that I was strong enough to keep us both from drowning? But then, if I hadn't been a werewolf, we'd have been someplace else together. Riding motorcycles. My garage. Her kitchen. She wouldn't have been trying to cliff dive alone. If that's what she was really doing, anyway.
That was the hard thing. The doubt. What if she really wanted to kill herself? He'd hurt her. Broken her completely. I thought I was helping. Especially after she'd figured out I was a werewolf—after we could be honest about the monsters in our lives. I believed she was better, but was she just better at hiding the hurt?
If she had died… If she had died then she wouldn't be thinking about becoming one of them. Would I have done a better job of saving her if I had just let her go?