Old Summary: One action can influence the future of the people around you. So, what happens when someone dies an unexpected death? It influences the entire story. Sam Temple is sent to CA after his mom's death and with that, changes the course of many people's lives. The day when the Evil Three turns into the Evil Four will be the day when True Power will be shown. After all, Caine and Sam are more powerful together, than alone.

New Summary: When his mother gets killed in a fire, Sam gets sent to Coates Academy under suspicion of being the culprit. There he quickly learns the true nature of this school and suffers from it severely. That is, until he decides to take matters into his own hands and turns into a person he never imagined himself to be. But sometimes you just had to do bad things to survive.

Setting: The story starts 10 months pre-FAYZ and ends about a week post-FAYZ. So, a wide span of time, which results to a very long story.

Motivation: Well, I've always loved the Gone series. In fact, these books got me into the reading and writing world, and are by far the best books I've ever read. Yes, better than book series like The Hunger Games, Percy Jackson, etc. (In my opinion.) After being hooked by the books again (re-read #9), I've decided to write a fanfic about it. And this is the result. :)

REWRITTEN ON AUGUST 9TH

Chapter 1: The Discovery

A single death can influence many lives

– 10 months pre-FAYZ –

It was well into the afternoon when Sam Temple found himself back home after a long day of school. He wasn't surprised to see the door still locked and the curtains closed. There were no lights on inside, even though it was already starting to get dark, so when he went inside, Sam immediately turned them and went to the kitchen, where he found an instant meal waiting for him in the fridge.

It was to be expected, really, that he would eat alone tonight. His mother was still sleeping after having worked the entire night and a part of the morning in Coates, while his stepfather Tom was probably with his friends for the night, like he always was on Fridays.

Sam hated Fridays.

After Sam warmed up his meal, he sat on one of the kitchen chairs and ate in silence. It wasn't that he wanted Tom to be there, but to at least a note or something to acknowledge Sam would've been great. But Sam knew he couldn't expect as much from his stepfather. He doesn't care about me anyway, so why bother asking? Sam thought bitterly.

When he was done eating, he walked upstairs as quiet as possible as to not wake up his mother. It was already quite late – Sam had gone surfing with Quinn and both had forgotten the time – and he knew that his mother would wake up soon to prepare for work. As usual, Sam tried to pass the time browsing on the internet until late, so that he could still be awake when his mother woke up. It was times like these that he tried to be there for his mother as much as he could; she had a rough time working at Coates Academy and every day she came home, she looked a little bit older than before.

When the lights in his bedroom became inadequate to light up a part of his room, Sam opened his closet. A pale green light shone right through the clothes he had used to cover the ball he had created from his hands two weeks ago.

Back then, it had freaked him out and it still did sometimes. It was however very welcoming, as it was now somewhat a permanent bed light. Sam still felt ashamed of how panicked he had felt back then, when all the lights blacked out and his room had fallen into darkness. It wasn't as if he was afraid of the dark. He was afraid of what he couldn't see because of it.

This green ball of energy had helped him see again and for that, he was grateful for it. Yet still, everything about it was still a mystery to him and sometimes, like now, he just liked to look at it and wonder if he would be able to do it again sometime.

Sam was however ripped from his thoughts when he could hear the noises from the room next to his travel downstairs. He smiled. Soon, he would talk to his mother. He just wanted to finish watching this one thing...

After a while, Sam could hear shouting from downstairs. That would be his stepfather. Sam quickly turned off his computer and stood. It wasn't unusual for his parents to be fighting on Friday nights, especially with his mother being incredibly tired whenever Tom would come back home. However, this time, the noises were more loud than usual.

Sam made sure to close his closet when he walked down.

"—want is a nice and cooked meal from my oh so lovely wife after a long day of work, but apparently that's too much to ask," he could hear his stepfather say. "Instead, you're just lazing around like the bitch you are." His voice was lower than it usually was. Sam glowered. He was drunk.

"I really don't want to deal with this right now," Connie replied tiredly. "Just warm up the meal, Tom. You really shouldn't complain since that long day of work consisted mostly of you getting yourself drunk anyway."

"You will not talk to me like that!"

"Get off of me!"

The wood beneath his feet cracked slightly, but he doubted that his parents would hear him between their shouting. Sam glanced inside the room, but was shocked by what he saw. Tom's hand was holding his mother's chin tightly. While his mother was trying to push him away, his stepfather smacked her.

He growled. "Stay away from my mom, you bastard!"

Tom snapped his head towards Sam and seemed to understand what he was doing right now. He let Connie go and turned around. He shouted out in frustration and slammed his arm across the table. The glass was knocked off and broke into many pieces.

Sam flinched. His breath seemed to quicken. But he kept firm.

"Go back upstairs, Sam," Connie told him. Her voice broke when she said his name. It hurt him to the core. "Don't concern yourself with this. It's not worth it."

"No, he should stay," Tom interjected. Sam could hear his mother breathe in sharply. "You might think that you can say whatever you want to me because I'm not your real dad, but I very damn well demand some respect!" He was yelling.

"Respect needs to be earned."

"I work my ass off for this family, while you sit around at the beach all day and you," he turned to his mother, "are not even getting paid half of what I earn. In the meanwhile, I come home and what do I see? Unfinished dishes. No food. No beer. Is a peaceful welcome really too much to ask?"

Tom angrily grabbed the dirty dishes Sam had left behind before—he was starting to feel really guilty for leaving the kitchen behind like that—and washed them up under the faucet. "Now, who's going to clean up the damn glass on the floor?" Tom asked sharply.

"That's your mess. You clean it up." Sam knew he should have just cleaned it up instead of challenging him, but still. Tom was being irrational and aggressive and he really didn't want to give any ground to anyone that hurt his mother.

"What did you say?" Tom turned towards him. His look was murderous. It was then that Sam saw the knife in his hand that he had been cleaning before.

"Lay off him, Tom," Connie intervened. "This has nothing to do with him."

"This has everything to do with him." He turned to Connie again. Sam's eyes remained fixed on the knife. "If only you'd have broken off with that man sooner…"

"I loved him!"

"And I loved you too, don't you understand?! But you kept choosing him—kept choosing him until he died and then you came with a fucking child you couldn't take care of on your own." He pointed his finger at her, raising the knife as well. Sam's throat went dry.

"Stop it," he said more quietly than he had hoped he would sound. He raised his hand.

But, Tom just went on and on… "But I took care of you, I took care of him, in the hope that one day you'd love me but that was all just a lie, wasn't it?"

"You're overreacting, Tom," his mom said warily, also eying the knife.

"I'm not OVERREACTING!" He raised his voice and lifted his hand.

Sam's breath hitched and he started to panic. He clenched his eyes shut. "STOP IT!"

He felt hot.

Someone screamed.

There was a small delay…

The blow knocked him backwards. The last thing he saw was red before his vision blackened and Sam fell unconscious.

The first thing Sam heard when he woke up was a beeping sound. He opened one of his eyes and looked at the source of the noise; a monitor stood next to the bed he was laying on. Sam groaned and pushed himself up so he could check his surroundings, but his head was still dizzy and it took a while for him to adjust.

Everything was white; the walls, the bed sheets, the chair next to his own. Tom was sitting on it. Tom. His stepfather. Who had threatened his mother.

Sam's eyes widened as he remembered what had happened and he gritted his teeth. He wanted to punch him, to hurt him for what he did, but something stopped him from moving his hand. Sam looked down at his right wrist and saw that it was handcuffed to the bed. He stared at it disbelievingly. "Wha– "

Sam was suddenly hugged by someone. His body tensed as he noticed it was Tom. "I was so worried about you", Tom said. Sam didn't know whether that was the truth or not. Sam still had trouble remembering what happened the day before. Tom had been drunk back then, right? He looked quite sober now. How much time had passed?

"What happened?" His voice was rough and just asking that one sentence was difficult to pronounce. The was a lump in his throat that hurt as if someone was stabbing it with a knife.

"You can't remember?" Someone else asked. Sam turned his eyes to the source and was surprised to see two police officers standing in the doorway. He frowned at them and slowly shook his head.

"Sam," he turned his head to his stepfather. He looked pained, yet there was an odd look in his eyes. "There was a fire. We barely got out of it alive. Don't you remember?"

Sam looked down at the bed sheets that seemed to provide less warmth now than before. "Where is my mom?" Sam looked over his stepfather's shoulder to see two policemen in the doorway. He frowned at them. "Where is she?" he demanded.

"Sam, she passed away." There was a tone of sympathy in his stepfather's voice. "The fire caused something to explode. They think it's the microwave. I was only able to save you, but your mom was…" His body was shaking, as if he was still very much distraught because of what happened. Sam felt fury well up inside him.

"That's a lie. There was no fire."

"I know it's hard to accept the consequences of what you did…"

"Of what I did? You pulled a knife at her! You threatened to kill her! And you did, didn't you?" Sam felt cold inside. "You killed her." He was now sure of it.

One of the officers chose that moment to speak up. "Your father is a hero, son. The fire-fighters weren't able to come in time and after the first blast, he knew a second one would come soon. He saved the both of you right on time. At the cost of his own arm."

Sam glanced at Tom's arm and only now noticed the stump where his hand should have been. The earlier scene suddenly rushed back to him.

Tom was lifting his hand, as if trying to attack his mother in his anger. He would have done it if Sam hadn't…

Sam's breath hitched.

If Sam hadn't lifted his own hand and released… what, exactly? That green light. The scream had been Tom's.

His gaze remained on Tom's missing hand.

And then? He had been blown back. Had he hit the microwave as they said?

There were just too many questions. "I was knocked out," he stated almost numbly.

"The first blast made you hit the back of your head," the officer informed. "You have a concussion and the doctors thought you'd be in a coma for a while, but you coming to now means you're gonna be just fine."

"They said they only needed to do some more checkups, but if everything's alright, you'll be out of here in no time." His stepfather smiled. "We can start over again. You can go to a different school… a private one. You know, Coates Academy? It has one of the best scores in the state."

"What?" Sam snapped. "Why?"

Tom was quiet and the other officer took over. "Although your father thinks it was an accident, you are suspected of being the one that started a fire."

"I saw you putting different chemicals in the microwave, Sam," Tom said condescendingly. "Now, I believe you're not the type of person to have intended what happened, but it still happened. I really don't want to lose you too."

"He has told us he didn't want to bring this to court. So, we opted to have you be sent to Coates Academy as they specialize in children like you. They will be able to help you."

His mind was racing. "You're saying I killed her."

"Not intentional," Tom pressed. As if it would make him seen as a better person.

Sam shook his head rapidly and looked at the officers with desperation. "You believe him?" The silence that followed was enough of an answer. "My mom was up, he was drunk, they fought and he almost CUT HER! And you believe HIM?!", Sam was shouting now and had tears in his eyes, while he struggled to get out of his handcuffs. Now he finally understood why they were here.

"We didn't find any cuts on her body, son."

"No, no, no, no, I didn't – he…" Sam stared at Tom with widened eyes and could see that he had already lost. Tom had threatened her, but no one else had seen that. It was Tom's word against his. The only thing they had seen was Tom saving him with a missing arm. They wouldn't believe him, not with him being responsible for…

No. He wasn't responsible for his mother's death. If Tom wouldn't have raised that knife, Sam wouldn't have panicked and none of it would have happened.

But he couldn't explain that to them. How could he if what he had done was unreal? Supernatural?

As he looked at his stepfather, Sam knew that Tom though the same thing.

To say any more, would only make things worse for him.

Sam's shoulders slumped down and his eyes looked at the white sheets that covered his body. Even though he hated it, he knew that he was defeated. "So, what now?", he whispered.

"As we said, your stepfather has opted for you to go to Coates Academy. This way you can still get your education and as they have dorms, you'll have a proper roof over your head and you can be taken care of. In return, you are obligated to see a counselor at least once a week. Don't worry, you won't be counted out because of it by the other students. There are a lot more that have to do the same. If you behave well—and we'll know through discussing with the teachers—there will be no consequences after graduation."

The officer was saying more, but Sam had already tuned him out when he told him Sam would go up the hill. The place where his mother had worked as a nurse, before she… died. Tears sprung into his eyes, but Sam refused to let them fall. Just like his mother always told him when he was afraid of the dark: he had to be strong.

But Sam knew what Coates was like and what it really was. It wasn't just an elite boarding school for rich children. It was also a dumping ground for troubled children. The children that were unwanted by their parents because of something they had done. Some were either criminals, insane or just… different.

And now, Sam was one of them.

"We're gathering here today for the loss of one of our beloved nurses: Mrs. Constance Temple, but we all know she would've liked it if we called her Connie or Nurse Temple," Grace Warren started with a sad smile. She was standing on a platform and was looking at the children before her. Her eyes were red from the crying and she looked very tired.

It had been rough for Grace after her hearing that one of her best friends had died. The police had called her around 11 pm the day before yesterday, saying that Connie was killed in a fire, which was most likely caused by her 14-year-old son. As the director of Coates Academy, she knew what it was like to deal with troubled children, but Connie had always talked about her son as he was a normal child, with normal teenage problems and normal feelings. So right then, Grace knew that something was not right.

Grace hadn't slept for two nights, too occupied with grieving and thinking what could've happened. And then, just when she was about to go to Coates this morning, the police called again with a confirmation that Connie's son Sam had indeed caused the fire, but that he hadn't been aware of the consequences. They asked if the boy could go to Coates Academy, like most troubled children in the area would. At first, Grace wanted to decline, but she knew she couldn't get her personal feelings get in the way. The boy needed help and Coates Academy would give it to him.

But Grace knew that he would get it rough in here.

"Her death was tragic and unexpected for all of us." Well, for all of the teachers, nurses and councilors; the students were just staring at Grace with blank expressions. Some even had grins on their faces or talking to each other about other matters, as if the death of someone close wasn't even worth paying respects to. But Grace was used to it, knowing that they couldn't help it, that it was all a part of their condition.

Grace wanted to help them, she really did, but some were just helpless.

"But we know Nurse Temple is in a better place now and we'll give her our respect by being silent for two minutes." It wasn't silent at all, which everyone could've expected. But most students were quiet, which Grace was grateful for.

That was, until a boy – Jake, she would learn later – called out: "Shut the fuck up!" and punched the kid next to him. In the next moment, chaos broke out and a fight began to form in the middle of the crowd, some students cheering them on.

The whole cafeteria and with that also the memorial was ruined.

Caine Soren opened the door in front of him and walked into the room after closing it. The noises from his fellow students in the hallway died down. Yes, normally Caine would've just let it open, seeing no reason why he should close it. But there was a reason why Caine was in the headmaster's office right now and he had no intention to stay here longer than was necessary.

Stay polite and obliging.

Caine waited for Mr. Edwards to finish his conversation with Mrs. Hudson, who was one of the nurses at Coates – normally, he would've just sat down on one of the chairs. She looked troubled, which he found logical. After all, the memorial of one of her colleagues had been this morning and hadn't turned out that well. "Ah, Mr. Soren", the headmaster called with a smile, "just the one who we need." Caine resisted the urge to roll his eyes and gave him his most charming smile. "Please sit down", Mr. Edwards gestured to the seat next to Mrs. Hudson.

When he was seated, Mrs. Hudson stood and left without a word. Caine frowned at her back, but didn't question her behavior. "May I ask why I'm here, Mr. Edwards?", he asked, even if he already knew the answer.

Mr. Edwards' face turned serious. "I believe you know why you're here. Your behavior during Nurse Temple's memorial is unacceptable in our academy."

Caine give him a questioning look. "I'm sorry, but may I ask what you're talking about? After such a tragic death like our beloved nurse Temple has had, how can I behave incorrectly? I believe I followed the school's rules and morals like I was supposed to."

"Causing a riot during a memorial is not following our rules. You know that just as much as I do."

Caine nodded. "Of course, and I believe that what had happened is very unrespectable toward the school and Nurse Temple herself. But I was simply telling my fellow students my opinion about the matter. What they did after that, is not my fault and hence also not my responsibility. So, I stand by my opinion of not contravening any of our rules or morals, Mr. Edwards. In fact, it pains me that you would think such a thing of me."

In truth, Caine had said to Jake, who had cut his brother's arm before he came to CA, how terrible it was for someone to get hurt by their own family. At first, the kid had just shaken it off, but after some fitting comments from Caine's part, Jake got angry and tried to punch him. When Caine had dodged, Benno had taken the punch and a major fight between several students had followed. It had taken half an hour for the teachers to take everyone apart, more than enough time for Caine to get some alone time and find more about that… power he had discovered when he and Drake had a fight last night.

Caine had thrown a book off the table in anger, without touching it. It may have seemed like nothing at first – hell, Drake hadn't even noticed it during their fight – but somehow Caine knew that this newfound power would offer him many opportunities in the future. As long as he got the practice.

That morning, during the riot, he had moved a pen in cold blood. It's a start.

Mr. Edwards sighed. "Very well, in that case I will talk to some other students about it. You may leave now." Caine nodded and stood up to walk toward the door. When he was about to open the door, he stopped as he heard that the headmaster was calling his name. "I will let it slide just this once, but next time, I won't be as merciful."

Caine grinned and left the room. That's what they say every time.

"So, I'm guessing Edwards felt intimidated by the greatness of the fearless Caine Soren?", Diana asked as soon as Caine entered the room, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Caine scowled at her before giving her a smug smile. "Don't they all." Diana rolled her eyes, but remained seated in Caine's desk chair that she'd obviously claimed as her own. "Where's Drake?", he asked after a moment of silence. After all, this just as much Drake's dorm as it was his. Even though they loathed each other, Caine knew that he would need Drake in the future and this way he would be able to keep an eye on the psychopath.

"Merwin's at a counseling, probably scaring the shit out of the guy. I don't really care," Diana answered. Caine looked at her. She was beautiful, without a doubt, but also untouchable. "So, what did you want to speak to me about?"

Maybe it was better that Drake wouldn't know for now. This way maybe, just maybe, this was his long awaited opportunity to bond with her. Maybe not as friends or lovers, but as allies. Caine gave her a smile. "I want to show you something."

Diana raised an eyebrow, but kept silent, waiting for Caine to do something. Caine sighed and looked for something that he could move. When he saw a pencil lying on Drake's desk, he stretched his arm, the flat of his hand pointing at the pencil. Caine closed his eyes and concentrated. Fall. After he flicked his hand and heard the sound of a pencil falling on the ground, he opened his eyes and knew that it had worked.

Caine grinned at Diana, who was still staring at the pencil that was now laying on the ground, broken. "Well, Merwin's not going to like that," was her first comment.

Caine rolled his eyes. "I discovered it last night and practiced during the riot this morning."

Diana nodded thoughtfully. "No one guarded the dorms, so you practically had the floor all by yourself this morning." She looked at him, her dark eyes almost reaching his soul. If he had a soul. "You should practice it, become better and we'll be unstoppable." Caine did notice the "we" in that sentence, knowing that Diana had already counted herself in. He smirked.

"I already know that, but how? No one may ever notice it. Certainly not one of the employees."

"I can help you with that."

In the darkness, 10 miles underground, a green mass of crystals crawled forward. The only light coming from the radiation that surrounded them. Being devoured by the mass, the light shone dimmer and dimmer, while the mass grew stronger and stronger.

It's almost done.

Inside of the mass lay the body of a grownup man. A dead body, but still useful for the crystals. It had invaded its mind like a virus would invade a computer. It had searched inside of his memories. Learned from it. Got to know the supreme organisms of this new world. The language, communication. The woman and the baby twins, precious to the male. And the radiation, the food.

All it needed now was a creative mind. A child.

Nemesis.

A/N: For those that have already read the old version, I hope you like the rewritten one. I will rewrite some sections in the upcoming chapters as well, but this one was the one I had been the least happy with. At least now it's a bit more decent. Tell me if you liked it in a review. I always love to recieve them ;)

Song of the chapter: "Things we lost in the fire" by Bastille.

Question of the chapter: Who is the dead male that lays within the virus of the world?

'Till next time!

Xx Anny