A.N. Disclaimer- I, obviously, do not own the Bloodlines series.

Catch me if you can she'd silently tease, catch me if you can. Can you catch me before I fall? Can you catch me?

She never could, but not for a lack of trying. When the other girl, clad in soft, innocent white, began to teeter at the edge of the window, she always lunged to hold her back. She'd reach for her shoulder, or the back of her dress, lunging to yank her away from the deadly fall. She'd never make it in time. Some nights, she'd manage to brush dress with the tips of her fingers, feel the silk so tantalizingly close away, before Lily would take it with her to the rock down far below. In some dreams she'd even get a handful of her dress, and Lily would wobble slightly towards her before the inevitable fall, and the white cloth would tear, and she'd be left with an empty dress, while Lily would crash, naked and broken, into the jagged stones. Those nights were the worst. When she woke, she would find her eyes stained with tears, wondering why Lily had jumped. Why she couldn't have caught her.

She'd stumbled through the day, waiting for dusk to arrive. She both hungered for her dreams of Lily- they were her only way to see the girl's face again- and hated them, too, because they reminded her of her failure. Lily reminded her of her failure. She began to wish she could hate Lily, too, and perhaps it would be easier if she could, but she could not. The only emotions she felt for the girl were love, and a deep, frustrated, bitter sadness, that seemed to fill both her sleeping and waking hours. Even so, she began to resent Lily for torturing her like this, even if she felt she deserved it for failing her. The sight of her eyes, like deep violet whirlpools, shinning with what may have been amusement or tears, and her lips, always curved ever so slightly into what may have been a smirk, or a sad smile. Looking at her face was next to unbearable, it's smooth vitality, its youthful beauty, unmarred and whole, like it had been before the rocks had broken her bones and shredded her skin, making her gruesome.

In some dreams she'd see her broken, trying to make her ways towards her on legs that barely worked. Her face was scarred and bloody, but her eyes had remained intact, and those dreams were almost easier, because there was no blame in those eyes. But those dreams were fleeting, and Lily's role in them always short. She'd go back the falling dreams again, where she'd be helpless to save her.

Catch me if you can she seemed to say, before flinging herself out the window.

I can't! she scream wordlessly at Lily, Don't jump!

Lily would shake her head, her mouth turning upwards, and then let herself fall back.

Waking hours were spent reflecting on the dream, wondering, perhaps, if she could have saved her. Then she'd fall asleep and dream again.

Catch me if you can.

I can't. Please don't jump. If you jump, you fall. You know what will happen when you hit the rocks.

Of course I do.

Then why to you…?

Because this is the only way you'll remember me. Because I'm selfish. If I don't fall, then you'll forgive yourself, and move on. But as long as I jump, you will never catch me. And if you don't catch me then you will never forgive yourself. And as long as that happens you'll remember me. And love me.

Even when I hate myself?

Especially then.


So Lily said, smiling slightly, and leaning backwards, out of the window sill, catch me if you can.