"I am not afraid to keep on living
I am not afraid to walk this world alone"
-
"Famous Last Words" My Chemical Romance


They had been working at it for what seemed like hours, but in all reality was only about forty-five minutes. Brigitte sighed and blew roughly at a strand of hair that rested on the bridge of her nose, making it itch. After several unsuccessful attempts at getting rid of it, she raised a hand that smelled of flowers — more specifically, Monkshood — and pushed it away, tucking it behind her ear impatiently. In her other hand, she held a few stalks of Monkshood roughly while Sam worked on brewing the so-called cure. They didn't even know exactly how permanent this "cure" was, Bee only knew that it had worked on Jason McCardy, and even that was pure luck. She closed her eyes, remembering how confused he looked after she had accidentally impaled him with the needle after he had tried to attack her. He had been human again — but the sinking feeling in her gut told her that it was only temporary.

Sniffing slightly, she wiped off the sweat that formed across her forehead — though light, it was still uncomfortable — and took the full syringe in her pale hand. Watching Sam toil away at making the cure exhausted her as well, though she had done nothing besides give him the materials. The liquid bubbled on the stove, purple petals bouncing on the surface, they were making a full pot of it, to last them for a while. She pulled the sleeves of her hoodie back, revealing pale and slender arms, unmarked and beginning to show the effects of lycanthropy as the soft black hairs that had covered her arms were now glimmering a shining gold. She was taking the cure first, since she had been infected first, it was only logic.

"Bee, what are you doing?" Sam said, voice tinged by a now-familiar tone — a sort of impatient kindness — as he focused on adding a few more crushed Monkshood petals into the pot — he didn't even have to look over to know that Brigitte was up to something. Now fully clothed — something that Brigitte was grateful for, yet slightly disappointed about — he looked about ten times more confident than when he had been clad just in boxers. He reminded her of the first time they had met, officially that is, not when all Bee knew of him was that he was a drug dealer with a handsome face and that Trina Sinclair wanted to jump his bones — and probably had, she realized with a grimace. She still remembered that day, when they had run into each other — or rather, he came up to her since she looked suspicious, wandering around his truck — after Ginger had come out of the vehicle, Trina's dog had gone after the redhead, it's loud barking making Bee drop her papers. The photo that had jammed inside of the camera during the night of the attack was left on the ground, and Sam had picked it up. A week later was when he confronted her about the werewolf he had hit with his truck, and she had weaseled out of it without even giving her name. That was the start of a not-so-beautiful, yet wonderful, friendship.

"Bee!" Sam knocked her out of her memories and she looked at him, he was looking at her with deep concern. It was the same look he had given her last night, the young girl realized wearily, it was the same look full of pity, worry and somehow, fear. Sniffing loudly, she held out the syringe full of the cure that had been meant for her sister.

"I'm going to take the cure, what else?" she snipped, her voice full of sarcasm. Placing her arm on the kitchen counter, she got ready to place the needle deep within her arm, into the major vein that ran along the crook of her elbow — she could see it, as it was a pale, yet vibrant purple.

"Stop!" Sam, yanked the needle out of her hand before she could stick it in herself. "You're doing it wrong. You need to tie off the top of your arm, close to the elbow, just going into the upper arm," Brigitte had looked severely put off by the fact that Sam had just taken the needle, interrupting her, but what he was saying was making a lot of sense. Taking off his belt, Sam accidentally flashed her a glimpse of a toned stomach, making her blush lightly — as if she hadn't seen enough of that this morning, or last night for that matter. She felt a suddenly pressure on her arm that startled her, his belt was now wrapped around her upper arm tightly. Looking down, she saw that there was a defined bulge that ran along the crook of her arm — right next to the purple vein that she had been prepared to stab.

"Of course you would know about this stuff," she said shortly, taking the cure back. She had been referring to the fact that, he was indeed, a drug dealer. Of course he would know about tying off arms to show veins, it was perfect for such things like heroin. At this point though, she was just assuming, she had never seen him with anything else besides weed. She completely missed Sam's deeply hurt look as she looked back down at her arm, gently prodding the skin with the tip of the needle. "But thanks," she said before sticking it in sharply, not giving any chance for anything to change her mind.

What happened next both confused her and scared her.

One moment she had been standing next to Sam, leaning heavily against the counter, bracing herself for anything that might happen. The next moment, she was lying down on the ground, a familiar, disgusting warmth seeping running down her neck and seeping down into the back of her black shirt and hoodie. A coppery taste filled her mouth as she realized vaguely that she had bitten her tongue, it made her gag with both disgust and frustration as it clogged her throat. A ringing sound in her ears told her that there was something very loud coming from someplace — she didn't know that it was her own screaming that was deafening her, not allowing her to hear anything else, not even Sam shouting her name in a panic. Her breathing was ragged, short and sporadic. Closing her eyes in an automatic response to her agony, she felt something kind of soft being placed in her mouth, and a strong pair of arms lift her suddenly. The last thing she registered before blacking out was that her head gently lolled to the side, ending up against something very warm and comfortable.


Brigitte shifted slightly, feeling very achy and stiff, she was in some hard place. It was very uncomfortable and she could already feel her back and waist complain against the movement she was making. Finally opening her eyes, she noticed the blinding whiteness first — of course, how could see not, when it was attacking her eyeballs like that? As her eyes got used to the blinding white of her surroundings, she realized where she was — the bathtub. Groaning, she pulled herself into a sitting position, grimacing as she saw flakes of dried blood come off of her hair and onto the clean white tub. What the hell happened? Wincing, she turned at the waist to see the back of the bathtub, and upon doing so, her hand flew to the back of her head. The white surface was no longer white, streaked with red and a darker maroon color, she realized that the back of her head must be torn open — when she touched it though, there was only a medium-sized, hard scab on the top of her skull. Breathing in deeply through her mouth, she automatically tasted copper — blood. Feeling ill, she gagged a little before holding any bile back and getting up from the tub.

That's when she saw Sam. He was sitting on the toilet, top down of course, and his head was rested on the wall beside him. How long had he been sitting there, waiting for her to wake up? Feeling extremely guilty, she gulped down was little saliva she had and stepped out of the tub — her muscles complaining. She padded up to him and lightly placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake gently.

"Sam. Sam! Samuel McDonald, wake up!" the slender brunette whispered, not wanting to jolt the young man too much. One of Sam's eyes flitted open, bleary and confused. It closed almost immediately upon opening, which frustrated the slender brunette, her solution was to shake him a bit harder, which caused him to jolt awake. A sharp groan issued from between his lips and Brigitte regretted waking him so roughly.

"B-Bee? You're awake?" he mumbled, still muddled from sleep. He groaned again as he shifted from his seat, he was sure to be stiffer than even her. Her dark eyes ran over him as she listened to various joints pop as he attempted to stretch — like a cat she thought with a tiny smile on her face. It immediately dropped as her eyes wandered back to the tub, and the blood that came from her.

"Sam, what the fuck happened?" She breathed, fear tingeing her voice and invading her eyes. Her hand went up to the back of her head and she felt the scab, proof that the so-called cure really had had an adverse reaction.

"It seems your body reacted to the Monkshood rather badly, it sent all of your systems into shock and you lost control of your motor skills — hence why you immediately fell upon injecting it into your bloodstream. But it might just be a normal reaction, it was a mild poison after all. Bee, how do you feel?" Bee blinked, it was the first — well, second — time Sam had ever sounded so smart in front of her, and she had been mesmerized. Why in the world had he decided to be a drug dealer of all things?

Clearing her throat, she shook her head. "Well, besides the fact that I got a new battle wound to add to my collection on the back of my head, I'd say I feel fine." the brunette raised her arm up to her eyes and noted with relief that the small hairs on her arms had turned back to their normal black color. "No, better than fine actually, fantastic! Sam, it worked!" giddily, she explained how they had been a golden blonde before. Sam instantly brightened, his hazel eyes glinting with something alike to excitement as he looked up at her.

"The cure worked… Brigitte, do you know what this means?" he asked her, his face happier than she had ever seen it. Shaking her head, she looked away — she couldn't bear to tell him that the effects were more than likely not permanent. She felt a pair of hands grasp her upper arms gently, she looked up at him again. "We're saved, Bee. We're saved," pulling her into a tight hug, she winced at his words. They were, in reality, far from being saved. These thoughts didn't let the slender brunette enjoy the warm hug that Sam was giving her.

"Sam, I think we should finish brewing the rest of the pot, then I think I'm going to go take a shower," she said, pulling away from the male and leaving the bathroom — leaving a confused Sam behind. Brigitte made her way to the kitchen and stared at the pot full of the violet liquid, the sinking feeling in her stomach returning. The cure probably wasn't a cure at all, just something to delay the transformation. But then again, there was the slight chance that she was in fact, wrong and it was actually permanent and Sam and her could go on and have a perfect, beautiful happy ending. Bee scoffed at her own blind optimism — a life full of werewolves doesn't end in a happy ending.

"Let's get started on this! I still have to take it," Sam said happily as he entered the kitchen, rubbing his hands together.

"Right," Bee mumbled, her arms wrapped around her as she watched Sam get to work.

"Hand me the syringe, Bee," Sam's voice sounded strained as he tried to not to spill the violet liquid, a cotton ball floated in among the crushed flower petals. The young girl gave an unnecessary nod before handing him the syringe, she was scared about what would happen to Sam once he took the Monkshood. What if his reaction was worse than hers? She bit her lower lip gently as he gently pressed the syringe up the cotton ball, the liquid swishing away dangerously.

"Alright," he said, flicking the now full syringe. "Let me just get ready…" he stalked off with Brigitte close at his heels.

"'Get ready'? what do you mean?" she asked, following him back to the bathroom, where he got one of the complimentary toothbrushes that leaned against the sink.

"I mean this," he said as he seated himself on the bed, tied his arm and put the handle of the toothbrush in his mouth, clenching his teeth tightly. So he won't bite his tongue… Bee thought as she felt the scabbing on her own tongue, the indents made by her teeth already healing. She winced as he injected himself, and almost at once, he fell on the bed, shaking and twitching — his breath coming in short gasps, like her own had been. She sat on her own bed and looked at the male as he finally passed out, the pain far too much to bear. At least he didn't scream, she thought bitterly as she waited for him to wake up.

Feeling her eyes fluttering closed, she laid down on the bed gingerly, trying not to get blood on the sheets. Placing her face on her hands, still facing Sam, she felt herself get comfortable.

"Everything is in vain, Bee. You know it is, no 'cure' is going to save you. You're doomed. You and your pet cherry-hound. You both are, might as well embrace it like I did Bee. It makes the experience fabulous," Ginger's voice came from behind her, a merely whisper against her ear, as Brigitte fell prey to sleep, a frown deeply settled on her pretty face because, deep inside, she knew Ginge was absolutely right.


So, I'm not happy with this chapter. It was really hard to write, for some reason, and once I did get it out, it doesn't satisfy me. At all. But I do tend to be my own harshest and hardest critic, so I really do hope that you guys enjoy this chapter much more than I did. :D I actually updated much faster than I expected, within two weeks! I'm so proud of myself, I didn't procrastinate too much this time. Now, I said I was going to mention all of the people who reviewed so here they are! :D I'm also going to respond to the ones that I think need a response. ;D

cclee123;; Thank you so much for taking the time to review this twice! I'm happy I keep the characters IC, I was so scared that I was going to falter in that regard and fail completely. You don't know how much that means to me. & Why yes, Sam is fucking handsome, I'd thought I'd do that as much justice as I could. ;D
thfhdg;; I know, I know. D: But I'm trying to keep myself to a schedule now, I promise.
VampireKa-Lyrra;; Wow, I'm so flattered that my story has become one of your new drugs! XD I really should find an antidote, especially for cases like yours. ;D
Jaden - Cyber Incision;; Erk! I really hope I don't disappoint! o.o

And definite thanks to everyone else who reviewed! ;; lynsay, StarswordIsCool and o0FLAM3S0o! Thank you so much for taking the time to review and make my days just a little brighter~
And just remember, reviews are much appreciated, loved, cared for, nurtured, fattened up, then slaughtered.
... no wait, discard that last one, that never happens. Ever.
-Much love, Savi.