A/N: This is for you, Devin! Just a quick lil one-shot from Laine's p.o.v. And, as you know, or those of you that read Pull Down the Moon know, I don't own Lost Souls. I only am one.


It was dark in the sky and darker in my soul. The stars were my guiding lights, my last reminder that there were some thing that never truly went away. I'd been wandering for what might have been centuries. Still I had nothing. Still I was as lost as ever.

When the van pulled up, I knew he was inside. I could feel him even if he couldn't feel me. When you wanted someone so badly you could taste it, you developed a sort of sense for them. I wouldn't have gone out after him if he hadn't mattered to me. Whether he loved it or hated it or wanted it or even knew it, Nothing was my everything. Nothing had always been everything.

I would not let him go. Not this time. I would fight for him to the death, if that was what it came to. Because what was I without him? I was nothing.

The door opened, and those god damned eyes opened up too. And I saw it in them. I saw that feral glow, the one that told me that he would always get his way. This strange man with the honey-colored hair and the pallid skin and the acidy eyes would always win, and would never give up what was his.

And then before I could think, Nothing was upon me. His arms slipped around my waist, pulling me tight against his chest. He was skinnier than I remembered, his hip bones and ribs jutting out to stab me through clothes and flesh. He smelled of sweat and sex and death. A rage rushed through my veins, but I ignored it with ease as I brushed back black hair from his poor, wretched face.

I knew I didn't need to say a word. There were none that could express how very much I'd missed him. How very much I needed him. Loved him. But my arms around his waist and my eyes locked with his, and my lips mere inches away… that might have been enough.

The funny thing about humans is that they are always changing. Every second of every minute of every goddamn ay, they are changing. Nothing ever stayed the same, least of all people.

Something snapped in Nothing just then. I saw it reflect in his own vibrant eyes, not so unlike those of the man he now rode with. It was as though he'd made a conscious choice, just then, to abandon all discretion and all remainders of his past life. In a moment he had chosen not to be Nothing, but to start to become something. Something much too grand for me to understand.

He pushed me away roughly, sending me crashing into the stained and tattered mattress. I threw him one last pitiful glance, one final plea. Begging him to realize what I would do for him. Begging him to love me the way I loved him.

The green-eyed monster was leaning casually against the side of the van. Boredom dominated his features, but when he met Nothing's eyes, there was something else there. Something like praise or affection. My vision was going red around the edges. Already I could imagine the pair tumbling about on this very mattress, moans of ecstasy echoing throughout the speeding car.

When they came upon me, I barely tried to stop them. If I could not have Nothing, I supposed Death would be as sweet. But he met my eye one more time before he bent over to join them, before he made the lethal bite. And in that solitary glance, I could see that he was sorry. I could see that there would always be a part of him, no matter how found he was, that would always be the same lost soul who sat around on my floor tripping out and letting me play with him. There would be a part of him dying with me today.