Hey everyone! So, it has been a while since I have updated this story (and that is an understatement, its been like years), and I am really sorry about that. I feel like I have been using this excuse for every story of mine, and unfortunately its the truth, but a lot of things have been going on in my life, good and bad, and it has taken my time from writing.

BUT I am working on it really hard to improve my writing, and I think I am doing better. Kind of, but I will get there where I can update more than one chapter a year.

Anyways, you don't want to hear what's been going on with me but hopefully want to know what will happen next.

Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

Chapter Ten: Loyalty till Death

"I used to advertise my loyalty and I don't believe there is a single person I loved that I didn't eventually betray."

― Albert Camus

The screams filled the room, and there was nothing she could do. All she had to was watch and remember that it was because of her that someone was being murdered.

"I trusted you and look what you did to me? You're a freak, Clara."

Clara woked up suddenly, feeling something rising up her throat. Somehow, she managed to get out of bed, stumble to the restroom that was connected to her bedroom and throw up in the toilet. When she finished, she gagged and reached for a towel to wipe her mouth. After she was done, she sat down on the floor and rubbed her eyes, feeling exhausted, despite just having a harsh wake-up call.

She stayed there for a while, her hands clasped tightly and her breathing heavy. After no longer having the urge to throw up, she pushed herself up, wobbling a bit. Clara stretched her stiff limbs and winced when she felt some burns that were in her back. Closing her eyes, she focused on the injuries and slowly they started healing. Finished, she opened her eyes and made her way to the sink.

Staring at her reflection, she saw how clammy and pale she looked. Washing her face and mouth, she went back to her bedroom and sat down on the bed.

"Ahh, please, I don't—"

She flinched at the memory and gripped the sheets tightly, feeling her skin get goosebumps. That was a bad day because she could smell something burning. Looking down, she saw smoke coming from her bedsheets and quickly scrambled from the bed. Another withdrawal from her nightmares was that it usually triggered her mutation and caused her to have to buy a new set of bed sheets every week because she scorched the old ones.

Pathetic, she could already hear Azazel sneer at her if he saw how her frazzled state. And, a part of her that would never say it out loud, agreed. It was pathetic how she always would get sick after someone would get tortured or killed. She needed to grow a thicker skin, get used to how things worked around the Hellfire Club because that was her life.

Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was going to be five in the morning. She had been in the bathroom a while, so she must have woken up earlier than that, probably around four in the morning. She went back to her bed, wrapping her bedsheets around her tightly, seeking small comfort.

Somehow Clara managed to fall asleep. It felt like a few seconds had passed when she woke up early in the morning, the sun barely shinning. She winced when she felt a pounding headache and sniffing herself for the first time, she saw how she smelled like a bar. Great, she didn't drink but still gets a hangover.

She may have fallen asleep, but it had not been a peaceful one. She still kept having flashes of the events of last night and other unwanted dreams. Clara started standing up and winced at the head rush that went through her. She closed her eyes for a brief second and then started to stand up, but much more slowly than last time.

After brushing her teeth, she headed back to her bed and threw herself back, not bothering to cover herself with her blankets. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was still very early, barely five in the morning. She knew that she was not going to fall asleep but she didn't feel like getting up and do productive things.

Which honestly she should consider doing since that left her time to think and her morning thoughts were too dark for her to handle. But there she was, on her back, tangled in her thin bedsheets, staring at her smooth ceiling, recalling her last night's dream.

Not only had she been reliving last night's events, between watching Azazel kill the colonel and her having to watch them get rid of the body, her childhood nightmare managed to make an unwanted appearance. She detested that recurring nightmare, the one she's had since she was a child.

No matter how much she analyzed it, Clara never understood that important of the dream. It was dreadful. She hated how it always made her feel lost, scared and confused. She already had enough of those emotions during the day, she didn't need her emotions to haunt her in her dreams.

So much fire. So much pain. So much loneliness.

She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to make it go away but how could she get rid of the nightmare that always appeared in the darkness?

"Dammit," Clara hissed when she opened her eyes and saw smoke coming from her bedsheets. She quickly scrambled from the bed and frantically tried to put out any possible fire. Another withdrawal from her nightmares was that it usually triggered her mutation and caused her to have to buy a new set of bed sheets because she would scorch the old ones every time.

She sighed and rubbed her face. Only twenty minutes had passed, but it seemed that she was done laying down in her bed. Clara stretched her stiff limbs and winced when she felt some burns that were in her back. Closing her eyes, she focused on the injuries and slowly they started healing. She opened them and decided it was time to get ready for the day.

As she changed, her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror. She looked terrible and it was easy to tell why. The last night events had bothered her more than they should have. Going to the bathroom, she scrubbed her face a little harder than necessary, as if she was trying to cleanse off last night's events.

As she changed, her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror. She looked terrible and it was easy to tell why. The last night events had bothered her more than they should have. Going to the bathroom, she scrubbed her face a little harder than necessary, as if she was trying to cleanse off last night's events.

It was early, and she knew that no one would need her until so much later. With a book in her hand, she quietly slipped out of the boat, trying to think of a place to hide. Church was not an option. The library was still closed. So, she made her way to this park she had found. It was completely empty when she arrived, but she didn't mind, that was exactly what she was looking for.

The sun was barely going up, so she decided to push off reading and do something else. Taking the opportunity that there were no children, she headed to swing and sat on them. She couldn't remember the last time she sat in one of them but didn't worry too about it. She swayed there, feeling content for the first time that morning.

She stayed there until she saw the first child show up, who incidentally choose the swings and went to sit on the one next to her. She stood up and sat down on the nearest bench, picking up her book.

She read and read until she didn't feel like it, which was many hours later. Clara could honestly read for hours if she could. It was the one thing that had always brought her an inner peace that not even going to church could. Maybe it was because she didn't have to try to be someone she wasn't, she was just focusing on something else, someone else.

When she had finished reading, she got up and stretched, loosing up her stiff bones that hadn't moved for the past few hours. She had no idea what time it was but still didn't feel like going back to the boat. So, she headed to the library, ready to return her book and get a new one, even though she had practically read all the books that were in that small library.

Once in the library, she headed to the science section. She had read all the classic literature, romance, mystery, nonfiction and was now on the science books. She was pleasantly surprised by how much she was enjoying reading them, which shouldn't surprise her. She remembered how much she had loved science when she was still in school.

She smiled ruefully when she picked up an anatomy book and ran her fingers through the spine. She remembered how she and her friends in her last orphanage had giggles childishly as they learned the difference between the female and male bodies.

It was those little moments where she wished things would have gone differently. But as rare of those moments came, she quickly snapped herself out of them. She shook her head and dropped her smile, going back to her familiar neutral expression.

"Are you sure you want these books?" the elderly librarian asked, wrinkling her forehead as she read the textbook titles Clara had handed her to check out.

"I am sure," Clara said, giving her a wide smile.

"Are you sure? These are pretty advanced," the librarian continued much to Clara's frustration. If she wanted to be talked down, she would have gone to Azazel. "There are nice, short—"

"No," she rudely interrupted her, her patience nonexistent at this point. "Can I just get my books? Please."

The librarian narrowed her eyes, finding something off about her attitude, and reluctantly checked in the books before handing them to her. Clara gave her another smile, that probably was smug, and walked away without another word.

"These stupid girls," the librarian said under her breath, "she'll never get a husband with that attitude."

Something inside of her snapped, and she did something stupid. Passing a bookshelf, she placed her hand and instantly it burst into flames. She quickly got out of the library and pressed her lips as she could hear the older scream in horror.

She was normally not a vindictive person, but after spending many years with someone as malicious like Azazel and Emma, she picked up a thing or two.

Someone brushed past her, probably rushing to come to aid at the cries of help from the old lady. She really had a set of lungs. Clara didn't have to look back to know she was outside the library, making a scene.

Sighing and rubbing her face, Clara stopped walking and just stood there. She could hear people horrified murmurs, the ambulance making its way, the fire crackling, and that damned old lady. If she closed her eyes, she could see the scene. The fire engulfing the building, that look of anger and disbelief on them.

"What is wrong with you? You're crazy. You belong in the nuthouse."

Clara opened her eyes quickly and her eyes darted around, seeing that she was right there in the street and not back to that night. She had to shake her head as if that would get rid of those memories that she has spent the past few years trying to forget.

"Time to go," she said under her breath, and then continued her way to the yacht, knowing that someone most likely needed her.

"Look who decided to come back," Azazel drawled from the top of the ramp. Clara sighed, gripping the book tightly as she forced herself to walk up.

"Hello, Azazel," Clara said, giving him the most forced smile she's ever given. "I can see you've missed me."

"Me? Oh no, I didn't notice you were gone. But Shaw did."

Clara's false smiled slipped from her face. Crap, she did not think about him when she left in the morning.

"Did something happen?"

"Nothing much. Just the usual, and you know, Shaw killing the colonel."

"What?" Clara said hollowly, feeling like she was submerged in cold water.

"Yeah, Colonel Hendry is no longer with us. How do your people say it? May his soul rest in peace?" Azazel said, pretending to look sad.

"Wh-why is he dead? What happened?"

"Apparently, he wanted to back out from our original agreement, which is a shame, we both would have benefited from it greatly. And you won't believe what happened afterward?"

Clara just stared at him but Azazel didn't seem to mind her lack of response.

"The colonel threatened to kill us and you know how Shaw is. He does not tolerate disloyalty. He decided that it was time to cut ties from people that no longer are used to him."

Clara ignored the implications and glanced down at her books. "Is that it?"

"Dead colonel, Emma complained about the food. Oh, Shaw wants you."

She looked up at him in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"I thought you might appreciate being caught up what had happened when she decided to wander off like a lost puppy."

"It's barely eleven," she snapped. "I didn't realize you were going to be executing a man this early. If I had known, I would have stayed."

"Don't worry," Azazel said, and took a step closer. She stiffened at how close he was. Leaning in he said quietly, "Maybe you'll get lucky and see one very soon."

She took a step back and hoped that she looked unaffected by him. "Why does Sebastian need me?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask him yourself," Azazel said.

She pressed her mouth tightly. She didn't look back to Azazel, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her troubled expression, but it didn't matter. He was enjoying the entire thing. It seemed Azazels favorite pass time was torturing Clara.

But it seemed that she was the last thing in Sebastian's mind when she reached the top deck. He didn't seem to notice her entrance as he was too engrossed in his heated conversation with Riptide.

"... he isn't there anymore," Riptide was saying.

"And where is he now?" Sebastian asked, sounding disinterested.

"Last Azazel knew, he was heading back to the United States."

"Alright."

"We need to…"

"No, we don't need to do anything," Sebastian interrupted him. "He is not our problem."

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say because there was a loud slamming noise.

"He killed all those men just to get information about you," Azazel hissed angrily, "and now he's finding his way here."

"He's killed before and he still hasn't found me." Somehow Sebastian sounded disappointed by that. "He's not worth getting worked out about."

"He does not seem to care how many of our own die—"

"Erik is determined but his anger clouds his judgment and as long as he holds it close to him, he's never going to find us."

Clara was completely confused about who they were talking about, especially on why they were being quiet about it. Whenever something was going on, Sebastian would tell all of them. He firmly believed the more they knew about a situation, the stronger they were and the harder it would be to take caught them offhand.

She didn't have a chance to question their secrecy as Riptide finally took notice of her presence and nodded in her direction. Sebastian turned and she saw him tense for a fraction of a second before giving her a casual smile.

"Clara, how long have you been standing there?" he said, motioning her to come and join them. She reluctantly walked towards them.

"I just arrived," she said hastily. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

"I apologize for not giving you your birthday gift sooner, but with everything that happened yesterday, I hope you understand."

"Oh no, I completely understand," Clara said. "You don't have to worry about that. There are more important things to do than celebrate a birthday."

Sebastian seemed satisfied with her answer and nodded. "Good. I knew you would understand. You have always been understanding. But hopefully, this will make do for the moment."

He handed her a black, small rectangular box with a blue ribbon on the top. She smiled at him as she took it and proceeded to open it. She moved the wrapping tissue and when she saw what it was, she was unable to hide her confusion.

"I know its a little different from your previous gifts, but I think its time for you to pick up a new skill."

She looked back at him and opened her mouth but closed it. She looked back at her gift.

"Come on, don't be afraid," Sebastian said encouragingly. "Pick it up. Let's see how you look with it."

Clara didn't really know why it matter she would look with a dagger since she was pretty sure those sharp objects were not accessories. But she complied as always and carefully picked one of the two daggers that Sebastian had gifted her.

They were surprisingly heavy but she was able to get a good grip with it. She didn't have to touch the blad to know that it was sharp. The reflection spoke for itself. She could see her stiff expression through the blade.

"The metal can handle any temperature, so you're fortunate that when you use your mutation, it won't melt," Sebastian was telling her, picking up the other one and admiring the intricate paters by the handle. "I made it especially for you. I know that you were probably expecting something rather more lavish, but I assure you that these daggers are priceless. Just like you."

Clara's weariness disappeared at that appraisal. She could hear Emma scoff in disgust, but she was being petty. She could be just as pleased if she had been Clara.

"Thank you," she said and placed it back in the box. She looked at him and gave him a genuine smile. "You are right, it's something very different from the usual, but I like it."

"Good, I hope that you learn how to use them very soon," he said, doing the same and putting back the other in the box. "We musn't always rely on our mutations. Sometimes, we need to have some trick up our sleeves."

"I understand," Clara agreed quietly, looking down.

"I know that you can handle many things," Sebastian said and used two of his fingers to tilt her head upward, to look at him. "But remember times are changing, and sometimes, our rules have to change. Like our mutant one."

"What do you mean by that?"

Sebastian chose to ignore her question and looked away as if someone had called his name.

"I need to speak to Azazel, enjoy the rest of your day. I'll see you in the afternoon. Happy belated birthday, Clara."

Sebastian kissed her forehead and left her on her own. She stared after him, completely confused about what just had happened. First the gift and then that reminder. She couldn't help but take it as a warning. But a warning for what?

When Clara got to her room, she had fallen asleep, which she didn't mind. She didn't have any grand plans, besides reading and irritating Azazel that afternoon. She pushed herself off the bed and groan. She didn't understand how she had no problems waking up at the crack of dawn some mornings and then when she would take naps during the day, she felt like she was being dragged down by weights.

"Good, you're awake."

"Oh my God," Clara gasped, jumping in surprise at the voice. She glanced around until she found Emma by the vanity mirror, staring at her reflexing. She turned around and smiled at her.

"Careful, you just said the lord's name in vain," Emma chastised, looking rather pleased with herself.

"Emma, I told you to stop just coming into my room. What are you even doing here?"

"I was going to wake you up, but it seemed that I didn't need to."

"Why? Does Sebastian need us?"

"Yes, but we have time."

Clara looked at her suspiciously. "Time for what?"

Emma motioned her to sit down in her vanity chair and she sighed, comprehending what Emma wanted to do with her. She dragged herself to the chair and sat down.

"You were mumbling again," Emma commented as she began brushing Clara's hair, who silently cringed. Wonderful, what was she dreaming about now?

"Anything interesting?"

"Depends on what you define interesting. I find it boring your constant moaning about people dying and fires when most of them are just things that your mind has made up."

You're so mean, Clara thought childishly and honestly hoped that Emma heard her. Emma continued brushing Clara's hair without a falter and continued with her about mind-numbing topics.

"Who's Erik?" Clara found herself asking, surprising both women. Clara never intended to bring it up and from the abrupt stop, Emma hadn't seen it coming.

"Emma, who's Erik?" Clara asked again.

"Erik is none of your concern," she told her. Clara studied her through the mirror and in just a quick second, she could hear Emma tense under her stare. Clara suddenly smiled.

"You don't know who he is, either?" She then frowned, not liking that. She hoped that if there was someone that knew about the so-called Erik it would be their resident telepath. "Why don't we know about this man?"

"We don't need to know about everything," Emma said tersely, going back to brushing Clara's hairs.

"I disagree. When someone is constantly talking about loyalty and honestly, isn't is a little hypocritical that he won't mention this man? A man who apparently has killed people just to find information about him? Doesn't that mean Sebastian is in potential danger? And if he's in danger, how are we suppose to protect him? How are we supposed to protect ourselves? Because if he's a target, then so are we."

"I think this is the most I have ever heard you speak," Emma said dryly.

"Emma, how are you not bothered by this?"

Emma stopped once again, but that time placed the brush down on the vanity table. She gripped Clara's shoulder tightly, and to the mirror, reflection said, "And why are you so bothered by this? Since when did you start caring what was going around you? You never care about anything that doesn't concern you, and this Erik clearly does not concern you."

"That we know of," Clara reminded her, turning around to look at Emma's face. "Sebastian never hides anything from us and if he does, he makes sure that none of us knows about it."

"That doesn't make—"

"He has been careless. He has killed two men in the past two days."

"It's not the first time he's killed before, Clara."

"Yes, but he was never like that before. He was not impulsive and made sure to think every through because I know today's events weren't premeditated. He's not like that, you know that, I know that, Azazel knows that. Even fucking Riptide knows it.

"What are you trying to get with this?"

"His actions affect all of us. He constantly reminds us, we are as strong as our weakest link, and right now, I am safe to say that I am not the weak link."

Emma stared at her, and Clara knew that she had gotten through her. Both of them stared at each other, one not willing to back down and the other trying to find words to explain themselves. Finally, it was Emma that broke their silent staring contest.

"You chose the wrong time to grow a spine, Clara," she said in a dangerously soft voice.

"Emma, this isn't—"

"Clara," Emma said sharply cutting her off, and then she gave Clara a smile that almost seemed happy, her mood shifting instantly. "I have something for you."

Clara knew that we the end of their previous conversation, and as much as she wanted to continue it, she knew it was wise to drop it.

"I don't want it," Clara replied, just like she would have done if it had been any other day.

"Don't be stupid," Emma said in her usual condescending that she used towards Clara. She went over to her bed and picked up a bag that was by the foot of her bed and placed it in the middle of the bed.

"What is the occasion for this gift?"

"It is a late birthday gift. Despite the slight complication that happened last night…"

You mean the murder of a man? Clara thought and she knew Emma had heard her as she paused for a second but continued on as Clara had said nothing, which she kind of hadn't.

"… you did just as what you were told."

Clara studied Emma, who was sitting on her bed, relaxed and waiting for her to say something.

"Alright, what is it?"

"Why don't you come over here and you'll see?" Emma motioned her to go over and she did as she was told. Clara looked at Emma wryly when she passed her and stopped at her bed. There was a simple but beautiful dress.

Clara looked at Emma and then at the dress, not sure what to say about it. Honestly, she never knew what to say when it came to Emma. Azazel made it clear that he found her mere presence exhausting. Riptide wasn't bothered by her. Sebastian appreciated her. But with Emma, it has always been a coin toss. One moment, she was giving her advice on how to flirt with boys, and the next, she was making Clara feel like shit.

It seemed that day, Emma was trying to be nice enough to Clara by giving her a birthday gift.

"It's nice," Clara said finally, looking back at the modest dress. "It's white," she noted, knowing that was Emma's color.

"To showcase your purity," the older woman said, making Clara look at her wryly.

"Who says I'm pure?"

"Have you suddenly gone in a killing spree and have sex with fifty men this morning?"

"Yes," Clara said as if it was the most obvious answer. Emma rolled her eyes, making Clara fight back a smile.

Those moments of amity between the two of them were rare, but Clara would be lying if she didn't like them. It was nice at times to not be at each other's throats. Yet, like always, Clara was reminded why she never looked forward to them because it ended as quickly as it happened.

"I see your manners have not improved after all these years," Emma said making Clara looked at her questioningly, wondering what did she do wrong now. "As in stop being ungrateful and thank me for my gift."

Clara rolled her eyes, but said, "Thank you, I really like it."

"Great," Emma said. "Why don't you change and meet me up the deck. Sebastian is ready for us."

She then left Clara on her own. She was about to pick up the dress when her attention was caught by Sebastian's birthday gift and she reluctantly picked one of them up.

"I will know what to do with them in due time," she said out loud and made a face. "What does that even mean?"

He wasn't one for mind games, that was more of Emma's style. When Sebastian wanted something, he would let them know. So, him being vague and giving her strange gifts was something that was out of the ordinary.

She couldn't deny they were beautiful as she examined how finely detailed the handle was. She wondered how much it had cost him, he was never one to have a limit. It always took her by surprise how he carelessly threw money in mindless things. She could still remember how excited when she would get a hand-me-down that didn't have a hole from the orphanage. And look at her now, getting these ridiculously expensive daggers that she would never use.

Her eyes darting to the human anatomy textbook, and then she pretended as if she was going to stab someone in the shoulder. Well, maybe she might use them on Azazel if he ever angered her.

"Hmm," Clara said, an idea crossing her mind but she didn't put too much attention. She needed to get changed and go back to the upper deck. Carelessly, she dropped the dagger in the bed, she picked up her dress and put it on. When she reached the top deck, everyone was already there. It seemed that they had been waiting for her because Sebastian didn't waste time to get everything started.

"Great," Sebastian said and clapped his hands. Clara took a seat on one of the deck chairs, in between Riptide and Azazel. Emma was by Shaw's side, like always. "Today went in a direction that I didn't expect, but that is alright. We don't need Colonel Hendry."

Clara hoped that her expression didn't betray her doubt because that was not what Sebastian had told them a few weeks ago, stressing the importance of having Colonel Hendry by their side.

"Something big is going to happen soon, my friends. Times are changing, and it's because of us." Sebastian pointed at each of the mutants in the deck. "We are the change this world needs. It is time for them to understand we will no longer hide in the shadows. We are going to start a revolution, and I will be honest, it is going to be difficult, and some of us might die, but don't worry, Clara will make sure it won't be for long, right?"

Sebastian looked over at her and gave her a smile, one she returned, although not with much enthusiasm.

"Right," she said, glad that she was wearing sunglasses that obscured her expression.

"Loyalty is sacred. And everyone here has claimed their loyalty, not only to me but towards the cause. I want to know that it still remains intact. We do not need any cowards. Riptide?"

"Of course," Riptide said blankly.

Sebastian looked at him for a second before nodding and turned to Azazel, who nodded curtly. He then looked over to Emma.

"I would never betray you," Emma told him.

Would, interesting choice of words, Clara thought and she hid her smirk when Emma's head went towards her direction. Sebastian did the same, although unaware of the tension between the two women, and walked towards Clara. Because she was sitting down, he loomed over her, almost as a threatening presence.

"Clara, my dear?"

She looked up at him and saw his expectant face.

"Of course," she said and meant it. She loved Sebastian. She would never betray him. "My loyalty is to you and only you."

Pleased to hear that everyone swore their dying loyalty, he dismissed them. He left with Emma and they disappeared God knows where. Clara was still thinking about what Sebastian had said to them when she felt Riptide appear by her side. It seemed that she wasn't the only that was puzzled by today's group meeting.

"Is it me or was Shaw trying to leave a message to us?" Riptide so quietly if it weren't for Clara's enhanced hearing, she would have not caught it. He didn't glance at her way, he looked towards the water.

"Message?" she said quietly, doing the same thing and not looking up from her gift. "He only wanted to know if we're still loyal to him."

"Loyal to what? What is this? A cult?"

"What do you mean?"

"Reaffirm our loyalty? We don't need cowards? We might die trying? Those words are not of a man who trusts his so-called 'friends.' We have done nothing but do his bidding and put everything in line for him and his cause. Has he forgotten that we killed a man yesterday all because he felt like it?"

Clara pressed her mouth in a tight line, seeing where Riptide was coming from but something unsettled her of what he said.

"You don't believe in the cause?"

"Oh, I believe in it. We shouldn't hide anymore. We have been pushed around all the time when we are the ones that hold the power. You should know better what it is like to be jerked around."

Clara frowned, not liking what he just said. "Then what is the problem?"

"I just don't think Shaw has the right intentions." Riptide let out a loud breath and finally looked over Clara.

"Does that have to do with Erik?"

Riptide looked surprised that she knew about him but then his expression darken. "I don't know about that."

"Well, then who is he?"

"I wish knew," Riptide sighed and he sounded like he was telling the truth. She was about to question him on his previous comment about the right intentions but didn't get that chance. "That dagger was a really nice gift. Perfect gift to give to a Catholic nineteen-year-old."

"No the perfect gift would be a bible," she muttered dryly. Riptide smiled.

"I think you have more than enough. Which reminds me, I'll be right back, I haven't given you mine."

He promptly walked away, leaving Clara alone, staring at him in bewilderment. That must be the most Riptide had ever said to her in all the years she knew him, and not only that, she had never heard him be so candid before. Why was he saying that now? And why her? He must be confident that she will not be going to tell anyone about what he told her.

She sighed heavily and leaned back, lying down in the deck chairs. This is why she never cared what happened around her, it always leads to problems and someone angry at her.

"So this is what you got for your birthday," Azazel said, appearing out of nowhere. In his hand, Azazel held one of her daggers, examining it. "Aren't you lucky?"

Clara straightened up and narrowed her eyes. "Give it back, Azazel."

"I never get anything for my birthday," he said, sounding rueful but she knew it was all an act.

"Maybe because you're a fucking asshole," she said under her breath. Nothing happened for a moment when out of nowhere she felt an unimaginable pain on her left tight. She knocked her sunglasses off her head as she went down to see her dagger pierced deeply in her body.

She breathed out shakily, her hands trembling with pain as she gripped her tight. She gritted her teeth, trying to stop herself from making a noise but it was impossible. She managed to look u and see how pleased Azazel was, how he enjoyed seeing her in pain.

"Ah, at least I'm not the one that burned down another building today."

"You idiot," Clara hissed at him angrily, and that was all it took.

She exploded.

She didn't really remember what happened afterward, she rarely did, but the first thing that she saw was Sebastian looking disappointed. She glanced around and saw that she had pretty much had scorched half of the top deck and Azazel was nowhere to find.

Still seething with anger, she hoped that he was dead. Or burning somewhere. She was breathing heavily, and when she placed her hand on her chest, there was nothing on her.

"Clara," Sebastian sighed. "We have talked about this."

Shakily, she pulled out the dagger from her body

"Well, at least the dagger survived." Sebastian smiled. "Don't worry, so did Azazel."

"Lucky me," she snapped and gripped her thigh unnecessary tighter than she should have. "Ah, sh..."

Emma appeared from her left and handed her a jacket. Wordlessly, she put it on and pushed herself up.

"I'm sorry about the dress," Clara said softly.

"I only got it because I knew it would make you look fat," Emma dismissed her. Clara stared at her and before she could do anything Sebastian spoke up.

"Clara, why don't you go downstairs and take the night off?"

Clara couldn't believe that this was happening to her again. Why did it always have to happen to her? Was that all he was going to say? Azazel fucking stabbed her and all he could say was 'take the night off.'

She wanted to cry, but she didn't. She sucked it in and passed them but before she left, she turned around and with all her force threw the dagger at Azazel's direction. Not expecting her to do that, Azazel didn't move quickly enough and it hit his arm.

"Clara," Sebastian chastised her, but she was already going down the stairs. "That was not what I meant."

"Yeah, yeah," Clara muttered angrily. "I should've killed him."

She threw her bedroom door open and ripped off the stupid jacket, leaving her naked but that was the last thing in her mind. She picked up one of her pillows and screamed into it. Once she finished letting it all out, her throat felt raw and she was taking ragged breaths. It took her a long time to calm down.

Her entire body was aching, she had so many burn marks all over and not to mention a whole in her left thigh was bleeding. If she had been a normal human, she would most likely bleed to death which honestly sounded much more welcoming than what she was experiencing right now.

"Stu…" she again stopped herself from finishing. Don't, don't give him the satisfaction.

But that had been a little too late. He got the satisfaction before she threw the dagger at him. Before she exploded and almost killed him. He was always going to win, no matter what she did.

"Focused," Clara told herself sharply and closed her eyes. "Don't think, just... focus..."

It took longer than usual but eventually, she was able to activate her mutation and the burn marks go away very slowly. It must have taken her over an hour, and that could be attributed because every other second she would get reminded why she was doing this and she would add another burn mark.

When she was done, the only thing that was left was her thigh but she was not too worried about that. She had been more worried about the burn marks, those were more painful and if she didn't get to them quickly, the would have left a nasty permanent scar and never hear the end of it from Emma.

Sighing in relief, she grabbed whatever article of clothing she found. Once dressed, she sat down at the foot of her bed and just breathed. Her mind was still all over the place—Azazel, Emma, Sebastian, General Gendry, punching Emma, Azazel dead, Riptide, killing Azazel—but she was focusing on letting go of the burning anger that wasn't allowing her to use her mutation properly.

She glanced at her record and wanted to again scream into the pillow of why didn't it occur to her to put the record player. Limping, she turns it on and goes back to the bed.

"Blue moon, you saw me standin' alone..."

No matter how many times, Clara listened to the song, it always made her better, even if it was just slightly. Taking advantage of that small window of opportunity, she started focusing on her leg when she heard a faint thumping noise.

Reluctantly, pushed herself up, wincing at the pain that radiated through her leg, and tilted her head. The noise was there, a faint thumping that was moving around. Someone was walking on the upper level.

She paused and tilted her head, and when she hears unfamiliar footsteps. She opened her eyes and stood up, turning her head and could hear the noise again, although much quieter. That was not Azazel, Clara realized. He was always silent, but this… whatever it was, was doing a poor job at being silent.

Glancing at her still bleeding leg, she stood up reluctantly, grimacing in the process and went outside to investigate. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary outside but she could hear, more clearly now, that there was an unknown person in the boat.

The strangers back were at her and for a brief second debated what to do. She went with the calmer approach, in no position to attack.

"Can I help you?"

He turned around quickly, his hand raising as if instinct. She felt something hit her in the stomach, making her grunt.

What the—? She straightened up and realized that he had thrown at her this metal bar.

"Get out of the way, Clara," he ordered her.

"Have we met?" she asked him in amusement, even though she was little taken back that he knew her name.

"Where is he?"

Clara could see that while he seemed out of breath, there was no hesitation in him. He was steady, almost calm, which instantly made Clara tighten the grip on her dagger. A person that had no fear had nothing to lose, she had learned, and that made them very dangerous.

Noticing the dagger, the man raised his hand, and with a swift hand motion, the dagger was ripped off Clara's hand. She had tried to keep a hard grip on it but it was useless. The dagger floated off to him and stopped halfway. With another hand motion, it turned towards her the dagger.

"Where's Shaw?"

"And what exactly do you want him for?" she asked and took a step towards him, not too bothered with having a knife five inches from her face. Growing up being terrorized by Azazel, it took a lot to scare Clara.

"To kill him," he said simply.

She sighed. Not another one.

"If you want to kill him, you have to get in line."

"Then I guess I will have to kill them," he said. "And if you don't move, then you're going to be one of them."

Anticipating his next move, Clara's hand quickly went up to protect her face, with her hand bursting into flames and turning into obsidian. The dagger bounced off her hand and fell to the ground with a loud clatter. Going the old fashion way, he quickly picked up the dagger and stabbed her on her side, making her cry out in pain. On instinct, she hit him with her harden hand making him stumble.

Their faces were inches apart, him still clutching the dagger. Clara gritted her teeth, trying not to cry at loud. When she looked up, she could see the look of disbelief on the man's face.

"How did you do that?"

"Did you think you were the only one that was special?" she managed to say and using his surprise to her advantage, pushed him off her.

"You're like me?" he asked, still in disbelief.

"Of course, I'm like you," she said and slowly pulled out the dagger from inside of her. She gasped at how painful it was and carelessly threw it to the floor. She pushed her shoulder back and held her head high as if she wasn't in complete pain. "A knife isn't going to kill me, by the way. And neither will it kill Sebastian."

"I will kill him," the man said, in a tone that made it seem like it was a done deal, and took a step closer to her. "Even if that means killing everyone to get to him."

Something about his choice of words made Clara paused and look at him strangely.

"…he does not seem to care how many of our own die," Riptide words come back and everything made sense at that moment.

"You must be Erik," she breathed out and that took him by surprise, not expecting her to know who he is.

"How do you know who I am?"

"I guess the same as you know me."

The man stared at her carefully, clearly changing his tactics at the new information. She took that opportunity to speak up.

"You're one of us, and we do not hurt one of our own."

"Whatever Shaw has told you," he spat, looking disgusted at the thought of being just like them. "I'm not like you."

Clara ignored him. "Unfortunately, you have made it clear that you won't even respect that rule. I don't like killing people unlike the others, so you have the opportunity to walk away. So, I suggest you leave right now."

"I want Shaw," that was all he said.

"Don't we all," Clara said dryly and deciding that she had enough, raised her hand, flames already coming out. That time, Erik seemed better prepared. He raised his hand and before she knew what was happening, she felt something hit her hard in her stomach, knocking out the breath of her.

She felt a rush of air hit her back, making her hair go all over the place, obscuring her view. It wasn't until her back hit the cold water, did she realize she had been falling. She gasped in shock, swallowing water in the process. Whatever had hit her, she felt it get heavier inside the water. She tried to push it off her but it wouldn't move. She could feel herself sinking, and despite being in much more dire situations than the one she currently was, could feel panic slowly take over.

Emma! Emma! Help me!

She could feel the freezing water pierce her skin as she trashed around the water, trying to find a way to get that stupid thing off her. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn't. It could be because she didn't know how to swim or her injury or just panic not allowing her to function properly. Too much was going on. Her chest was burning. Her body was becoming numb. It was becoming too much.

Not again. I can't do this again. Someone fucking notice me!

She knew what was happening. There was no way around it. She desperately didn't want it to happen again, she couldn't afford it. Last time it had been bad. She couldn't imagine how it will be this time around.

And that honestly terrified her.

Panic and fear had completely taken over at this time. She couldn't think anymore. She was just going by pure instinct. She let out a loud scream, stupidly hoping that someone could hear her.

No one did.

The last thing Clara remembered was seeing something red float around her. She could feel her hand trying to reach it, to feel it, but never had the chance. It felt like something was stabbing her. Taking one last heavy gasp, she shut her eyes and let the darkness envelop her.

This was so much fun writing this chapter. I have been waiting forever to write this chapter and I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out.

Thanks to everyone that has followed, favorite and reviewed. It really means a lot and its nice to know that some of you are still interested in this story.

Can you guess who's going to be showing up next chapter?

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men, the only thing that is mine is my original characters.