It was the next day and the Benefactor was gone for good, Stiles and Lydia had seen to that themselves. Everything had seemingly gone back to normal, and no one was trying to kill them anymore. The youngsters went back to school while everyone else got on with their lives, respectively. Culee and Brett went back to Devenford, and the others attended class in Beacon Hills.

Brett couldn't get the girl off his mind. Every free moment he had he was thinking about the night before, how she had saved him. How she had helped Scott. Brett wanted to know more, he wanted to talk to her, but he hadn't seen her all day. He wasn't so much looking for her, more like he wanted to bump into her. When it came to last period he decided to skip it and take things into his own hands. He had no idea where to start looking. He just walked the hallways with his mind muddled, hoping he wouldn't get caught by a teacher and given detention for skipping.

Brett hadn't really paid much attention to her before. He hadn't heard much about her, apart from when his lacrosse teammates would talk about her. He didn't know the people she hung around with. He didn't even know if she had a free period, meaning she was probably in class right now. Suddenly then, he remembered her carrying a violin case in with her to school the morning he had snuck Scott into find her. It was worth a try, so he started there.

He got to the music department and looked into Mrs. Keller's classroom. She had a class, but he couldn't see her in there. He took a look in the other, but it as empty. He turned away from the little window in the door deciding that the sports hall was the next best place to look, but then he heard a sound from inside the class room. A tune was being played on what sounded like a violin. He peered through the window again and saw nothing. He grabbed the handle and turned it, stepping into the room carefully. The music stopped.

"Can I help you?" A voice came from behind him.

He turned quickly and saw her standing there. A string instrument in one hand, a bow in the other. She was standing in front of a metal stand and a sheet of music. Her blazer had been discarded and the sleeves of her blouse were rolled up to her elbows. She didn't look nearly as intimidating or vicious like she had done the few times they had met. Here she almost looked innocent, just standing there. She looked so...relaxed.

He honestly hadn't thought he would find her, so he was a little lost for words. He walked further into the room, looking at her.

"Hey," he started. "I, um, just wanted to check if you were okay. You know, after yesterday."

Culee didn't answer for a moment, she only stared at him. Brett was usually so cool around people, he was good with them. The right words would just flow out of his mouth so confidently, but it was different with her. He couldn't tell why.

Her face broke out into a small smile suddenly, and she rested her instrument back in it's case. "I'm alright, thank you."

She looked back at him, her eyes wide and bright. "And you? Your sister?."

"We're both okay, thank you for asking."

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. There was a long pause of awkward silence and Brett chuckled, reaching to scratch the back of his neck. He didn't know want to say to her, not one clue. There wasn't a huge difference in age between them, with her being a sophomore and him a junior. He thought about mentioning lacrosse or a party that was soon approaching, anything but the fight the night before. None of it seemed right though, so he said nothing. But he didn't want to leave, he wanted to talk to her.

Brett sighed in relief when she was the first to speak. "Do you play an instrument?" she asked.

"No, not really. I can play a couple chords on the guitar, but nothing major." He answered truthfully.

Culee broke into a grin, looking at her feet and trying to hide it. Brett stepped closer, curious.

"What is it?" He asked lightly.

She looked up at him, eyes brighter than ever. "Nothing major... The pun, I um, sorry I just thought it was funny."

The pun wasn't intended but it made her blush, so he thought it was definitely worth it. "That a violin?"

"No," she looked down at the classical instrument. "It's a viola, similar to the violin but not quite the same."

Brett eased closer to her, taking a good look at the viola. He wasn't a music type of guy, instead he focused his time on sports and academics. He was curious nevertheless. He reached for the instrument, touching its strings lightly. He was close now, only about two feet away. He could hear her heart beat ringing in his ears, it was a little fast. She was quite tall, maybe around 5ft 7" but he still towered over her.

He looked at her and asked, "What's the difference between them?"

"Well," she began, "they're in the same family. But the main differences between them are their size and strings. A viola is bigger and has a deeper sound."

Just then she makes her way over to the piano. Culee places her hand on the keys and looks back at Brett, smiling.

"A violin has a G, D, A and E string," as she says each note, she plays the corresponding key on the piano, "while a viola has a C, G, D and A string. A viola usually supports a violin in most classical pieces, you hear it in the background as the violin carries the tune."

Culee touches both her hands to the piano and plays a small, beautiful song. Deeper chords could be heard in the background as a tune was played.

"Like so," she says as she finishes.

"That was really pretty," he walks over to her. You're really pretty, he wanted to say. But he refrained himself. "I'm guessing you've got a musical background then?"

"Not really," she took a seat on the piano stool. "My mother bought me a violin was I was small, she always wanted me to play," Culee's smile faltered. "After my parents died, I didn't really want to give up so I carried on learning, picking up new instruments along the way."

"I'm sorry, Culee," Brett said sincerely, trying to remember his own mother's face.

"Thank you," she gave him a small smile and shrugged. "It was a long time ago."

"My parents died too, when I was young," Brett pulled up a seat and sat, looking a his hands. "Sometimes I find it hard trying to remember what they look like, you know? What they sounded like."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry, Brett," Culee offered her apologies. "I understand what you're saying. Some days its harder to remember than others. Do you have any pictures?"

"No," he shook his head. "They all got destroyed in the fire."

Culee stays silent for a long time. Brett looks up from his hands and finds her staring at him. Not blatantly, but she looked sad or worried. She was thinking about something, Brett could see it from her eyes, he could see the cogs turn in her head. He was worried that he had said something wrong for a moment, but then she shook her head and looked at her hands for a long time.

"You know what I am, right?" She asks, finally meeting his eyes.

"I know you're an Aither, but I don't really know what an Aither is," Brett honestly.

"I'm still trying to find that out myself," she smiles slightly. "I can do this one thing though, but only if you want me to. It's your choice."

"What is it?" Brett stands up straighter.

"I um," she looks away, "I can search through your memories and try and surface certain ones. Like ones of your mother and father. But I'll see them too, so I understand if you don't want me to. Its just," Culee finally looks at him, like she understands, "I want you to know I'm here if you need that. If you need to remember."

Now it was Brett that said nothing. He couldn't believe it. His first instinct was to say yes. He often dreamed of seeing his family again, those who died in the fire when he was so young. He wanted to hear his mother's voice telling him that his dinner was ready, or listen to his father yell at him for fighting with the other kids again. He wanted to remember his aunt's sweet face, and see his home again. But Brett was hesitant. So much time had passed, he had moved on. He knew that if he remembered everything he had forgotten that he'd miss his family ten times more than he already did.

Brett found himself whispering yes.

"Are you sure?" Culee answered, looking deep into his eyes.

Brett could only nod, surprisingly hardly bothered by the fact that Culee would also be seeing his memories. Something about her made him feel calm, almost safe. Even though she was practically a stranger, he trusted that his memories would be safe with her.

Culee then moved her stole closer to him, their knees now almost touching. She lifted her hands, palms up and waited for him. She smiled reassuringly, her eyes a little sad. She waited until Brett was ready, until he slowly slid his palms onto hers and held her hands tightly.

They came slowly at first, the memories. A red swing, a bike, his sister as a baby in a crib. Then they came quickly, flashing by brightly. His mother's face, cooking dinner in the kitchen. His father's laughter ringing from the garden. Brett remembered the feel of dirt on his hands on his first full moon, his father's proud blue eyes shining in the dark, and his aunt's howl in the background. But then the memories shrivelled and died away, replaced by fire. He saw himself crying, then Satomi's arm around him. His sister now a little older, running with him through the forest and laughing. His pack around all around him, protecting him.

The school bell rung and Brett's eyes flew open. His chair thrown backwards as he got up and snatched his hands from Culee, turning away from her. He breathed heavily, holding his sweaty palms to his face and wiped his tears away. He stood there for a while before turning back to Culee. She sat in the same place, her hands together in front of her. She looked up at him, her eyes guilty and her skin a little whiter.

"I'm.." she mumbled. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine," he breathed. "Thank you," he said slowly, remembering.

She nods and stands, "You have a beautiful family, Brett."

He could only smile at her.

Culee rushed away then, back to her things and packed up quickly. She almost left before Brett could say anything else.

"Wait!" He shouted as she walked through the door. He ran after her, dodging students and caught her arm in the hall.

"Wait," he said again as she turned to him. "Do you-"

One of his Lacrosse teammates calls his name from the end of hall. He ignores the call, fully focusing his attention on Culee.

"Do you want a ride home?" He asked her.

She smiled up at him and met his eyes before shaking her head no. "Thank you though, Brett."

She left him then, alone and wanting more.

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