Sweet Dreams -By Yo-yo

Disclaimer: The day I own Wolf Lake will be the day Jonathan Jackson returns as "Lucky" on Gen. Hosp., Britney Spears dies, and Colin Farrow and I get married, all simultaneously. So, basically, I don't own Wolf Lake, and I never will.

A/N: This is the last Chapter in my Wolf Lake series and I must say, it's been a pleasure. I have never had so much fun writing about characters, and I have never ignored so many teachers, classes and liturgies as I have for this fic. I will not continue "Sweet Dreams," but I may publish a couple of short stories if the inspiration arises. This is the first fic I've ever finished . . . the first story ever actually, and I'm happy to say so far, this one is the one I'm most proud of. I know I haven't even seen the show, but I must say, I've connected with these characters in a lot of ways.

Ok, now I'm stopping the mushy stuff because frankly, I'm not that type of girl. So I want to thank any and everyone who's taken the time to type a review and tell me how they feel and ask me questions. I want to thank everyone who's e-mailed me either politely asking for another chapter, or have demanded it of me, along with a couple of death threats (u know who u r!). I'd like to thank everyone who's read this fic, even if they haven't reviewed, because that's what I write for, other people to read and identify with. So thanks for everything. ~ Yo-yo

ULTIMATE ROWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BRING WOLF LAKE BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sweet Dreams XXI:


The simple three-lettered word had consumed so much of her thoughts that she was forced to stay in her room for two weeks. The only times she'd left were for work and food.

Pushing back a lock of hair, she stepped away from the canvass she'd previously been hovered over. She still had no idea where she was going with it, and wasn't even sure of what had developed. All she knew was that this painting had disturbed her far more than anything she'd ever done.

Standing to the left of the canvas was a young girl. She was naked as her body folded over as if she was carrying some immense weight. Her long limbs looked battered and bruised, her hair, limp and dirty, her body looking crumpled. She looked as if she'd been beaten by life, her entire being was broken, her spirit gone. She ambled in darkness. To some it could be construed as an alley way, where the dregs of society lived, expressing her defeated look. To others, she could be in a corner, searching for a way out, but never finding one. To others, she was simply lonely, no one there for her, no one there for her.

Sophia stared into the soul of the naked girl, knowing- feeling her pain. She wasn't lost in an alley way, she wasn't hovering in a corner, she wasn't lonely . . . she was afraid.

She was afraid of the world that spanned out before her. She was afraid to look forward. She was afraid to fulfill her destiny. She was afraid of someday being alone.

And the darkness in the background sealed her fate. For like she, the girl could not go back. The doors of destiny had long been opened for her, and for once in her life, she'd taken a step forward and entered. But now, she could not go back. She could not stay huddled in that world where everything was easy and everyone protected her. She could not simple blame her naïveté on everything now. She was now an adult, soon to be leader of the pack . . . her responsibilities lay with her people now; she couldn't be to herself anymore- she belonged to her people.

Ever since the conversation she'd had with Sean, she'd felt her whole world tilt out of orbit. For weeks now, it was as if she were in a Mobius strip, spinning round and round until it lost a link. Everything in her life seemed to be different. She felt as if she'd never seen before, as if the whole world was new to her.

For weeks after work she'd stop by Sherman's house, picking up and returning books. She studied the books of lore, searching amongst their depths for the prophesy.

And she found it.

"'In the heat of passion, bones shall be crushed, hide shall be torn, body will shatter, and life will begin.'"

For several days, she poured over large heavy bound volumes. She stayed up long nights trying to uncover the meaning behind the words. And then finally, she understood.

During her Change, the girl from her dreams- the future Sophia (or at least the post-flipped Sophia)- had told her that she and Luke hadn't been thrown together by accident. From the day they were both conceived, they'd been written in the great book together. They were meant to be together . . .

. . . They were mates.

The prophesy explained, that if someone had found their true mate, before the Change, then there would be an easier way to pass from human to wolf. If a Skinwalker had truly met the one they were supposed to be with, then their love would carry them threw the fire licking pains that lay so close to actual death. If they were truly meant for one another, then the joining of their bodies would carry them safely through the transformation from mortal to mystical being.

And that brought her back to the same word that had been plaguing her all week.


From the age when she could finally comprehend the word sex, and what it actually meant, she'd never known it to be something good. Sure, she remembered the whole, "When two people love each other, they take a special nap, and nine months later there's a baby." But from the world today, she'd never heard anything to suspect it was "special."

Girls came to school pregnant, their bellies hanging out of their shirts as they trudged to their classes, pale and puffy-eyed from the excessive crying and incessant morning sickness. Boys came to school, snickering about the girl they'd had the night before, splaying to everyone the "details." Students cried in the stalls, words like crabs, syphilis, and herpes being flung around as they wondered what to do. Boys buying an access of condoms, planning to use them on any girl who'd let them. Words like AIDS and HIV hurtled through the school like an epidemic, tacking on names of who was alleged to have it and who was allegedly spreading it.

And she knew it wasn't as glamorous as Hollywood made it out to be. It wasn't sweet and beautiful. It wasn't something that you'd want to remember for the rest of your life. People ran home crying afterwards. Girls bled, screaming, not understanding what was happening.

In the world that they were in, sex was never good. It wasn't like it was supposed to be. Nobody loved anyone anymore. No one cared. It was about having sex and moving on. It was about getting what you were after and leaving after you'd gotten it. Sex was a game teenagers played. Not caring if someone got hurt, not caring if they actually loved that person. It was a game . . . a game that meant nothing in the end. It was a game that only resulted in heartache; a game that ceased to show people as superior beings above the rest, but merely animals who wouldn't listen to themselves. It was a game that people played when they ignored their hearts, believing that an empty life can always be filled with an empty fuck.

And she knew . . .

She may have never had sex, but she knew.

She remembered the night a year ago when Jamie had climbed up her window at two a.m. with tears running down her face. She remembered the way she bawled on her shoulder for hours on end, wondering what the hell she had just done. She remembered the summer of depression when Jamie didn't even leave her bedroom. She remembered the way Jamie had described what had happened that night, and the way she looked so defeated.

Just like the girl in the painting.

But it wasn't as if the guy was mean to her, or as if she didn't love him that had made her cry. It wasn't like he'd hurt her afterwards or simply left. It wasn't as if he'd rolled over and fell asleep on her. It wasn't like he didn't press kisses to her face, and whisper sweet nothings into her ear. It wasn't how bad she'd bled that night, how much it hurt, or how uncomfortable it felt between her legs during and days after. It wasn't anything.

And ever since then, Jamie had sworn off sex. She understood first hand what it was like, and she knew that she wasn't ready for it.

She placed her brush in its handle and slumped down on her bed.

All her life she'd heard these horror stories about sex . . . but every once in awhile there were these magnificent stories about love. How it sustained people, even after they were gone. How it brought people together and bounded them in something incredible. How it revealed some of the most sacred powers of humans.

Pushing her hair back, she fell back in her bed and cried.

Luke was supposed to be her mate . . . He was supposed to be the one she'd share her body with. He was supposed to be the only one that ever got to see the most intimate parts of her-

And yet, he'd slept with myriads of women before she came along. He was one of those people that bragged about "lays"; he was one of those people she could never imagine herself being with.

It seemed everything that they'd ever done could only be special to her. He'd done it all already. Hell, he'd done it so many times, she was sure, that she wouldn't even faze him. She would just be another girl to him, no matter how much he tried to convince her different. Because in his world, she knew, she could never be different. It ceased to exist any longer. She would simply be the last.

Tears rolled big and fat down her cheeks as her heart broke. She had wished for so long to find that someone that she could share everything with, and in the end, the person best for her was someone already used . . . already broken.


She exited the large bus and took a deep breath. She'd just spent the day trying to teach thirty girls to swim, and she could feel the beginnings of a migraine threatening to reveal itself.

Adjusting the strap of her bag, she began walking towards the diner, her stomach growling with hunger. As soon as the tingling of the damn bell, she could feel all eyes on her.

She ignored them and made a straight line to the counter where Kit was wiping down the counter.

As soon as Kit looked up, a smile curled her lips.

"Hey Sophia, long time no see."

"Yeah," she smiled politely, "work has been keeping me busy. Take my advice, don't ever have kids, they were only created to get on other people's nerves."

"Oh, I know, my sister is on number four." Kit grinned. "So, what would you like?"

"Uh, double cheeseburger, extra rare, no tomato, with mayo, no ketchup. Uh, fries and vanilla milkshake." She smiled, pushing a lock of frizzy hair back.

"Ok," she smiled writing it down, then turning to the cook.

She could still feel eyes on her. She could fell them on her skin, grazing, probing, looking within her for something she knew not. She would bet 20 bucks they were Skinwalkers.

Turning, a smirk appeared on her lips as she mentally gave herself a twenty. As she studied the group of kids that were studying her back, her eyes collided with a beautiful pair of green orbs.

Blinking, she felt her face grow hot.

She never expected him to be there. He was supposed to be helping his mother at the firm all summer. She hadn't seen him since the day she'd asked them to take a break. When she saw him next, she wanted to at least be prepared. She wanted to at least know what she wanted to say to him, and maybe even let him know if she had made up her mind.

His eyes never left hers, and hers never strayed from his. He just sat there, arms over the shoulders of Prestley and Brianna, staring. She stood there, arms clutching the straps of her bag, staring.

She'd almost forgotten how green his eyes were. She'd forgotten how their different facets changed in the light, a plethora of colors swirling in them. So green that they seemed to shimmer gold, like a sour apple at times. Other times, they were sun-kissed, making it hard to distinguish them from an ocean blue. When he was angry, his eyes were a dark unpronounceable color that could only be called black.

She'd forgotten how he looked at her. The way that his eyes seemed to beckon her; she'd forgotten seeing that unmistakable look in his eyes that she still couldn't comprehend. She'd forgotten the power they had on her, making her feel as if she would kill herself if he didn't touch her right then and there.

Her pulse quickened as she remembered the way his lips felt against her skin. The way they softly caressed her, pressing kisses to her pulse points, making her want to jump from her skin. The way his fingers trailed along her scorching hot skin, her muscles jumping, flinching, clenching beneath him; a hot- something growing beneath her belly, urging him to continue. The way he brought her up against him, pressing her tightly to his warm, tight, hard body, cradling her from the outside world, letting a small tremors run through his frame as her lips begged him not to stop. The way she could feel his need for her, gently nudging her in the belly. She could feel it hum slightly, flinching whenever she touched him, growing whenever they kissed. . .

"Sophia . . ."

She remembered the way his tongue entered her mouth, first hesitantly as if asking for permission. When her own tongue touched his, he immediately entered, groaning as hers slowly ran down the length of his, gently sucking. She remembered the way he explored her mouth, touching, caressing, moaning, never letting their passion overtake them; always letting her feel his need, taste his love- haste never an issue. She remembered the way his fingers slowly crept up her thigh, slowly making his way towards her-


"What?" she started, whirling around to see Kit looking at her as if she'd grown an extra head.

"Your lunch, it's ready."

"Oh, thanks." She smiled.

If Kit had been a Skinwalker, she would have not only smelled, but also felt her arousal. Glancing back at the table, she sighed at the knowing smirks and glaring eyes. Placing her money on the counter, she cast one last glance at Luke before leaving the diner.

As soon as the warm air smacked her body, she almost wished she was in that horrid, chlorine laced swimming pool, with sixty flailing kids, screaming at the top of their lungs.

"Hey Sophia," she heard a voice call behind her.

She stopped. She knew exactly who it was.

"Hey, Sophia," Luke said, running up behind her.

"Hey Luke," she smiled politely, pushing her hair away from her face and turning to him.

"How've you been?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets and looking down at his Chuck Taylors.

"I've been fine," she replied, mimicking him.

"I haven't seen you in awhile," he mumbled, "I meant to call."

"Yeah," she said, looking up at his blond hair. "I didn't think I'd see you here. I thought you usually work this time of day."

He looked up at her, his eyes colliding with her brown ones. "Mom gave me a day off. I haven't been outside of the Bat Cave in a long time."

"Yeah, the working world will do that to you."

"So, I heard you've been borrowing some books from Sherman?"

"Yeah, just looking up some stuff . . . 'bout the white wolf and all."

A smile climbed up his face. "You forget, I can always tell when you're lying."

Groaning, she smiled disarmingly.

"I was looking up some prophesies."

For a few moments, they stood in silence. The only noise came from the two cars that sped past.

"So, how has your summer been so far?" he asked, raking a hand through his hair.

"I reek of chlorine, so not so good. How 'bout yours?"

"My mom is showing me the strings. It's boring, but I've had a few days to catch a tan and hang with Sean."

"And grown a goatee." She smiled, tugging a little at his facial hair.

"You like?" he asked, his eyes reading hers.

"It looks good on you," she smiled. "Shame you're going to have to shave it off for school."

He didn't say anything for a moment. He closed his eyes as she touched his goatee, liking the rough, prickly feel of it. He instead, relished the soft, barely there feel of her fingers on his skin.

She could hear . . . feel the way his breath escaped his lips. It was heavy, his heartbeat quick, his eyes closed. She knew why he was silent, and all she wanted to do was press her lips against his until his lips begged her not to stop.

His eyes fluttered open as she took her hand away.

"Yeah," he breathed.


"I miss you." he said, his eyes burrowing into hers.

"I miss you." she smiled sadly, not taking her eyes from him.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "I've got to get back . . . I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "ya' wouldn't want the brat pack to actually think for themselves."

"Cute," he forced out a few soft chuckles.

"Well, I'll see ya'." She said, turning.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Wait."


And suddenly he captured her lips

His lips moved over hers in a slow, sensual movement. In moments, her hands traveled up his chest and wrapped themselves around his neck, her fingers playing with the hairs on his nape. Running his tongue along her upper lip she allowed him entrance. The contact of their tongues cracked in the air, like lightening. While he played with her mouth, tasting every inch of her, his hands began to work also. Pulling her to him, his fingers began tracing circles on the small of her back.

He was drowning in a see of delirious bliss.

Feeling his hands on her and his tongue running along the length of hers, she moaned, missing the feel of him. The feeling of every part of his body in contact with every part of hers was making her knees weak. She allowed her hand travel along his chest and abdomen and upon hearing him moan, she smiled against his lips.

Luke moaned as he felt Sophia's hand exploring his chest. Ever so slowly, he started to withdraw from the earth shattering kiss, and he brought his lips to her neck.

Sophia let out a small whimper as she felt his mouth leaving hers that turned into a moan as se felt his lips on her neck.

After placing one last kiss to her lips, he pulled away, groaning at the loss of contact.

"Bye," he whispered, leaving.

She didn't say anything as she watched him go, she wasn't even sure if she remembered how to walk. All she knew was that the kiss was mind- blowing and if he ever did that again, she wouldn't be able to leave him no matter what.


She couldn't sleep.

Hell, after the kiss Luke had given her, she couldn't even eat.

God, he'd felt so good, pressed up against her like that. All she wanted to do was to rip open that stupid red shirt he wore and do ungodly things to his body. She'd never wanted him as much as she did at that moment. Lust had coursed through her veins, down her limbs, singeing her fingertips.

Pushing the coverlet from her, she knew what she had to do.


The French doors flung open, draping the dark room with a warm brilliance.

He looked up.

There she stood: his angel. Her slim figure stood silhouetted against the bright sky. A smile played at his lips as he noticed the light outline her features just as they had the night he'd realized that he truly loved her.

Feeling his eyes on her, she whirled around. Dropping her arms to her sides, she let a small smile tickle her features.

The long white, simple silk dress she wore clung to her in all the right places, accentuating her every curve. On her feet were simple, yet exquisite white beaded sandals. Her long, brown hair cascaded down her bare shoulders, caressing her. Running along her forehead and disappearing under her wavy hair was a thin silver band.

He couldn't get over how beautiful she was. How perfect she was, and how his she was. His angel, he'd deemed her, being reminded constantly why that title was true. Everything about her was so pure and innocent, as if she wore borne of a lily, never leaving the confines of her home until he finally found her.

The silence between them was comforting, it had always been.

He was so amazed that it was he who claimed her heart. It was he who'd not long ago professed his love to her and promised to give himself willingly and utterly. It was he who'd placed the ring on her finger, never releasing her eyes. It was he who'd placed the kiss softly on her lips, sealing their covenant and their fates.

"You're so beautiful." he whispered, breaking the silence.

Suddenly, he felt a tiny, sharp rock being pelted at him.

"What?" he groaned, waving away the rock.

"Luke," someone hissed from outside.

"Prestley, go home, I love her."

"I'm not Prestley, and you better not be with her!"

"What?" he muttered, realizing that he wasn't asleep.

"Luke!" the voice came again, followed by a few small rocks that stung as they made contact with his naked chest.

"Who the hell are you?" he groaned, jumping from his bed and to his window.

Standing beneath his window was Sophia. Her long hair was rumpled atop her head, as if she'd been tossing all night. Her blue and white tank top and boxers with little monkeys were wrinkled. She wore no shoes on her feet, but from the way she stood, on her tiptoes, he was pretty sure she'd already regretted that decision.

"Sophia, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I need to talk." She groaned, catching a glimpse of his naked chest. "Help me up."

"Just go to the front door," he said, wiping his eyes of the sleep. "I'll open it."

"And put on a shirt," she mumbled, turning, but he'd caught it.

When he returned at the door, he came complete with a wife beater and boxers.

"So what made you come to my humble abode at," he checked his watch, "four thirty in the morning?"

"You wouldn't have sex with me."

"Huh?" he asked, his eyes bugged. In all his seventeen years, that was one thing he'd never expect her to say.

"You wouldn't have sex with me." She repeated.

"Ok. I hear the words, but I don't understand what they mean." He said as if talking to a three-year-old.

"When I basically threw myself at you the night your dad died, you said no. You said . . . well, you wouldn't have sex with me."


"So," her eyes grew wide. "So, you totally didn't take advantage of me. I always thought that's why we were together. You respected me and you didn't want to hurt me. Then I find out from Sean that in order to speed up the Changing process, all we had to do was have sex-"

"Sean told you this?"

"Well, he recited the prophesy, I looked it up and realized what it meant. But you wouldn't have sex with me."

"We've established that." he said scratching his head as he led her upstairs to his room.

"I kept trying to figure out why, and I don't understand. I mean, you knew of the prophesy, you had to. You knew that if we were mates, it would have worked. You knew that I was suffering far worse than any other Skinwalker- ever! And yet you wouldn't have sex with me!"

"Sophia, I didn't want to do that."

"And why not?"

"I didn't want our first time to be about you trying to Change. I needed you to actually know that I loved you, that there was actually something there before we mated. I wanted you to really love me back."

"I told you I loved you that night."

"And I tried to tell you the same thing. Look, Sophie, I do love you. You can't ever doubt that, but I would never make your first time like that. Even though it's supposed to spare you the pain of the Change, it does actually hurt and for the girl- a lot. I didn't want to put you through that. I didn't want you to think I had ulterior motives."

"I really hate you, ya' know."


"Do you know what it's like being with you? Being apart from you? It's like I'm suffocating! There's no breath in the room, except that escaping your lips. All I want to do is press my lips against yours and share your breath forever! I'm afraid." She finished with a sigh.

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of being with you. Afraid of being with you as I've never been with anyone else. Afraid that you'll hurt me, afraid that you'll be you, afraid that you'll . . . I don't know, I'm just afraid."

"You know I'll never hurt you, right?"

"Yes, but I know you'll hurt me unintentionally. I know that something's going to happen and you won't be able to control it. I know that I can't be special to you the way you'll be to me-"


"Luke, you've been with half the damn town, and frankly, that part scares me the most. Not because of the damn diseases, not because of the fact that I know you'll be comparing me to-"


"What scares me the most," she interjected, "is the fact that I won't get to be your first. I won't get to be the one you remember always. When we're done, I won't be the one you stay up all night long thinking about, I won't be the one that you'll be worrying about. I won't be the girl that you're panicked over wondering if you actually satisfied her. I won't be the girl that gets to take a piece of you, as you get a piece of me."

"Is that what you think?"

"That's what I know. I know that I love you, and that I want to be with you always. But I don't want to be like every other girl that's had you. I don't want to be like every other teenage girl walking down the halls. I don't want to come out of this with these huge scares both outside and inside. I don't want to be like everyone else."

"And you aren't like everyone else, haven't you gotten that yet? You're the only person in my life that I've never had to wonder how they got there. You're the only person that I've ever sat up with, for several nights, just to make sure they're ok. You're the only person that I've ever taken to the cove. You're the only person that I've ever uttered the words 'I love you' to. You're the only person that I've ever loved so much that I've cried over. You're the only person I wanted at my Dad's funeral. You're the only person that I want in my bed. You're the only person that I've ever truly wanted to make love with. You're the only person that I ever will make love to.

"You were right. I wouldn't have sex with you. I would never have sex with you. You mean far more to me than a quick fuck. Whenever I get you in my bed, I will not have sex with you . . . we'll be making love. I'll be giving up my heart, my soul, something I have never trusted another human being or Skinwalker with in my entire lifetime. I will be giving you every piece of my essence. I will be laying completely vulnerable, just for you . . . only for you. When we mate, it will be my first time. I am a virgin."

She didn't say anything for a moment, her eyes locked into his. In fact, she'd barely even heard him. Instead, she'd felt him. She'd felt his sincerity, his commitment, his love radiating off his skin, touching hers, caressing hers. And she knew that everything he said, was.

The next thing they both knew, they'd crashed against one another, each seeking the others lips, melding passionately.

She was just about to press butterfly kisses to his jaw when she heard him breath,

"Run with me."

"Huh?" she groaned, his fingers playing against her aroused skin.

"Run with me."

And before she could respond, he'd broken away from her and began stripping. When he was completely naked before her, which didn't take to long, he looked back at her, an amused smirk on his face and an attractive brow raised.

But as she took in his entire physique, she realized, that it wasn't only his brow that was raised. His erection stood proud, beautiful beneath a thatch of blonde curls. He really had worked on his tan because right now, everything was nice and golden brown . . . EVERYTHING.

"Could you turn around," she groaned, looking away. "I find the way that you leer at me very disconcerting."

He chuckled lazily as he made a show of turning around.

He knew she was aroused from the way her breath quickened at the sight of him undressing.

Pulling off her clothes, she could hear the familiar sound of bones cracking and shifting as he flipped. Then suddenly, she was naked, and on all fours, staring into the hazel eyes of a wolf.

And they were off.

Two wolves danced down the streets of Wolf Lake, chasing and gently nipping at one another, their love undeniable. They entered the dismal forest, unaware of anything around them as they plunged deeper and deeper, their bodies fumbling over one another, their muzzles colliding an innumerable number of times, gently licking one another. And finally, they stood under a canopy of trees, completely enveloped in their own world.

The two wolves gazed at one another, heat rising within both their bodies. They moved closer to one another. There was a tangle of limbs, as they wrapped themselves in one another, and soon became flesh. In moments, they couldn't have stood up if they wanted, not knowing where one began and the other ended.

His fingers touched her, igniting a flamed that burned so deep and brightly within her, that she thought she might explode. Ever part of her was touching him. Every part of her craved his touch, craved his caress, craved him . . .

They made love to one another in the cove, gently exploring one another and displaying their total and utter devotion in the most intimate way possible. They didn't need a priest to bless them on an alter, or the Alpha to announce to the pact of their coupling. The piercing of the air with their combined screams as they marked one another was ceremonious enough.

THE END (FINIS)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!

P. A/N: So, I want to thank you for reading. Yes, the ending was a little disappointing, but like I said, I've never finished a long story, ever! Also, I can't write an NC-17 fic because I'd rather not, plus it'd sound way too mechanical and that's always bad. So hope you like this. And please, e-mail or review and tell me how much you liked it. I'm very happy that you've taken the time to read this.

P.P. A/N: If anyone wants to write a good, lime, because I don't want the end too graphic, if anyone could write a good ending, I'll repost it and give credit to whomever wrote it. Well, if you want to, my e-mails on my profile, but e-mail me the ending, don't just post it. Thanks.

w/ luv, Yo-yo