A/N: So, lady lust claims this chapter. Since I'm not one for writing romance, I tried to get it over with. It's got implied sex and alcohol, but nothing majorly detailed, so I didn't want to rate it M. Nonetheless, I tried to make the character as (pardon my language) slutty as possible. It is the seven deadly sins, after all.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gone, or the song 'Get You Home' by Shwayze. I only own my seven idiotic characters, two shown and five to be released.


There are two major points in an adolescent's life when they need to rebel. The first, at a very young age. Everything is being done for you, and you're told when to do it, how to do it. Go to bed, take a bath, sit down, stand up. When you finally want that shred of independance, you react.

Now the second is a lot less discrete. When you're a teenager, you get tired of that small speck of freedom. You want to go out until midnight, and make your own decisions. No limits. No restrictions. It's a healthy part of life. Well, except when you take it too far.

Faith Addson learned that the hard way. The very, very painful way.


Faith was coming back from a party, a boy, no doubt her newest catch, on her arm. Walking wasn't really the term for what she was doing. She was more of... strutting. Like a model, no. A drunken stumble turned flirty.

She wasn't always like this. But oh, did she ever want to be. Too much parental supervision did that to someone. She had grown up in a very—an understatement, at that—religious household. Her parents brought her to church, every single Sunday at ten o'clock sharp. They never strayed from child-watch, and since Faith was an only child, she was watched. A lot.

Her music was screened for profanities. Her books, though she was forced to read them, were also checked for anything bad. Her only connection to the real world was at school, where she could learn freely about the world. Not educational, of course, but society. How to kiss. How to grind up against a boy. How to do... other things. She learned a lot at school.

When Faith was drunk, which she most definitely was, she forgot the majority of what she'd learned. She was back to basics, relying on her girly nature to reel the boys in. Needles to say, the boys weren't interested in what she knew. They were lured in by something else, and she knew that. Not that she cared.

Faith had pretty much given up on the God she had been forced to care about, even though she'd been given a biblical name. Maybe if her parents let her have a little freewill, she would have stayed true to Him. Too bad they didn't know the meaning of letting go. Niether did Jason, the boy she was with.

He held her hips, slightly lifting her off the ground to bring their lips together in a sloppy, drunken kiss. Her Ipod earbuds were split between the two of them, the tracklist on random.

Take me in the bathroom,
take my clothes off.
Make love to me up against a dirty wall.
'Cause I can't wait to get you home.

Faith nearly gasped. It wasn't like she hadn't done it before, but the knowing sensation that it was going to happen always made her feel... wierd. Like she thought her parents were watching, ready to scold her.

No, she thought. They're gone. Gone forever! No restraints, baby!

Jason pulled away then, and when Faith started to babble her protests, he stopped her with a finger to her lips.

"Just one more request before we get down to business," he purred. He was a badboy, clad in a black leather jacket and cut up jeans.
She adored hotties like him. Just the thought of trying to tame him, trying to get him to comb his wild side down, made her tingly. It was a girl's natural instinct to want to fix badboys, even if she was a badgirl herself. It always failed in the end, but it was still a hellova lot of fun to try.

"What, baby?" she murmured. She would do anything he asked of her.

"Do the trick," he said with a crooked drunk smile.

That request was odd, but she'd had it before. The 'trick' was actually her power. A gift from the god who she had abandoned.

"Mmm, alright. Whatever you want," she replied, with equally slurred words.

She reached her hand out, and closed her eyes in slight concentration. When the fingertips made contact with his faded band-tee under the leather jacket, it met little resistance. Her hand melded into his chest, earning a drunk giggle from Jason.

She didn't get why people liked it so much. People said that it tickled a bit, but that was all. She couldn't grab onto anything. It was as if her arm turned invisible inside of other people—and objects.

She could move her arm, and even her body, inside anything. But the strange thing was, she couldn't move anything inside. That was why non-freaks accepted her and allowed her at all their parties. She'd called it phasing.

It still sucked when she got wasted and lost control of her powers though. Once, she'd phased through two floors and had broken a leg, but the healer had fixed it in no time. The healer. Where was she? Faith didn't know, nor care. She left after the clifftop battle, never to be seen again. She could control her powers now. Well, mostly. They didn't work well when she was stressed.

He pulled her forearm, dragging out her palm slowly. "That's good," he said. He'd had enough of that sensation. "Now let's get down to why I'm here."

Faith had no objections. Only expectations.


It had been a week since she'd broken up with Jason. After a few sober moments together, she'd realized that he was only a faux badboy. He dressed like one, but everything he did wasn't rebelious at all. She wanted bad. She wanted a challenge. She wanted evil.

And then a miracle—or so she liked to think of it—happened right in front of her.

It was late at night, and Sam, Orc and Howard were all rushing past her house. She was looking out the window, on hottie-watch, when she saw them. They had something in their arms, knocked unconcious.

A human, but not just anyone. Drake. Drake Merwin. Faith had never spoken to him, but it was pretty obvious that he was what she wanted. Powerful, hot, and evil. The three main things she looked for in a guy.

He was the perfect candidate for her to change. She smiled at the thought, and the plan was formed in her head.

She had waited a week for the guarding to die down, and now only that monster Orc and his lackey Howard came in and out of the house. They went in two times a day, one in the morning, and one at night. For her plan to work, Faith would go in at noon. She'd have five to eight hours of 'fun.'

She dressed her best for the occasion. She even put in the effort to make her hair look wild, but in a sassy way. Nothing involving equipment, though. Electricity had gone out a long time ago.

She took a few deep breaths outside of her house, and then quickly, not wanting to be seen, she dashed across the lawn and into her old neighbour's. She immeadiately phased through the nearest wall, tripping into the kitchen. First, though, she had to find out where he was being hidden.

She didn't really need a hint as to where it was. After all, the giant wardrobe pushed to the bottom of the stairs gave it away.

She ran her fingers through her hair in a slight attempt to tame it before walking through the wardrobe and the wooden baracade that blocked the doorway.

When she came out, she looked around the room. She'd expected the hot badboy to be leaning up against a wall, arms folded across his chest in a manner that said, "Yeah, I look cool even when I'm all alone." But when she got in there, and looked around, she didn't see a boy up against a wall. She didn't see a boy at all.

A girl, twelve or so, was huddled up in the corner of the room, only her ratty brown hair showing. Faith was shocked. Was Drake's power to be able to turn into a girl? If so, shouldn't she be blonde? But then... she noticed something. The girl in the corner wasn't moving. No slight, rise and fall of her back as she breathed. No nothing. Just stillness.

Faith cleared her throat, trying to get the girl to look up. She thought the girl was dead until she saw the slight movement of her head.

Instantly, the girl's eyes went from slits to massive circles, almost as if she had seen a ghost. The girl, after a moment of staring, spoke.

"Get out!" she screamed, clutching her head. "The demon! The demon! He'll kill you! Hurry, leave before he—" she tried to finish, but the transformation was already happening. Her right arm was turning blood red and growing out like someone had melted it, and it was already freezing back into the shape of Drake's whip. Her untamed brown hair grew inwards, lightening to the hair that Faith had watched come into this house.

What was happening? She thought, dumbfounded. What the hell is going on? So many questions flooded her head, but she didn't have time to voice them out, let alone think them, for the long red whip was already around her neck. She didn't have time to put on her smile.

The face she had thought about for the last week was grinning at her now, but not in the way she wanted. She wanted joy, love, and longing. This was much more frightening. A hunter's smile as he shot down his prey.

"You should've listened to the girl," he said with a demon's grin, "but it's a good thing you didn't, because I need to take my anger out."


When Orc returned, he thought knew the girl was in control now. There was no screaming from Drake about how much he would kill them, no yelling about death and blood.

But still, no matter his opinion, he checked, and when he found the bloodied blonde on the ground, he instantly sent word for Sam.

She wasn't dead, no, but she was close to it. The only words he heard her whisper were the words Brittney had yelled at the clifftop battle. "Kill me."

Lust blinds the victim into false love, and a sense of fake control. When all that smashes to pieces, along with your body, you would do the exact same thing that Faith did. She wasn't dead, but she was begging for it.


A/N: This is how a Drake/OC fic should end. With the girl half dead (or fully dead). You can't tame him, fangirlies. We'd all love to tame a bad boy, but it's impossible. ):