"So, what's your name?" Clary asked softly, refreshing the cloth with cold water every few minutes.

"And why should I tell you?"

"Because I have to call you something," she said, not meeting his eyes."If you tell me your name, I will tell you mine. And besides, you seem like you won’t be able to leave for a while," she added with a grin.

"Fair enough," he mumbled quietly. "Name's Ash. Ashton Crouser," he responded grumpily.

Nodding, Clary tended to his wounds silently, with him letting out a hiss of pain every now and then when she cleaned his wounds with alcohol. She noticed something different though; his wounds were now smaller and less deep than before.

He couldn't have healed so fast--at least not as a human, she thought.

"Well?" A growl came in her direction.

"Oh, right. I'm Clary. Clary Gray." She glanced at his eyes. They were deep blue, standing out against the unusual color of his fair hair.

"By the way, you were hurt pretty bad," she said when she didn't get a response. "Can you remember who--or what--attacked you?"

As she looked up, Clary saw with surprise, that his eyes flickered.

"No," he answered, putting so much venom into just that single word. Well, I won’t push him if he doesn't wish to tell me, Clary decided.

"Very well." She eyed him with a soft, but tired expression.

________________

It was pretty late, and she had just started to doze off when the front door slammed open with such force, the whole house shook.

"Clary!" It was no doubt Stella's voice, though a bit shaky and breathless. Scrambling to her feet, Clary could only stare in utter surprise. Stella's hair was a mess, her face dirty and smudged. Her hands were red with blood, and so were her clothes. Her breathing was ragged and unsteady, as if she had run a hundred laps. Maybe she had.

"It's Sakura!"

It was Sakura, outside in the parking lot, her arms bent in strange angles, blood covering almost every inch of her body.

"Oh dear God.... please....no..." Clary's face turned as white as a sheet.

"I. . ." She tried, but choked on her own words.

"Who. . ." she managed to say, looking anywhere but where her friend's body lay.

"I don't know. But whatever it was, it wasn't human. That I can guarantee." Stella continued to look calm, as she always did when such things happened.

"You know what to do."

Nodding, Clary reached for her friend’s glassy eyes and closed them with the flat of her palm. She chanted a few words, unbearable as it was, and bid her farewell. She then proceeded to pick her up, carry her lovingly, and lay her down in a small area just inside the forest.

"Goodbye, old friend."

Going back into the apartment, she was silent.

"Where were you? Why do you look like you have seen a ghost?" The moment she stepped through the door, she was bombarded with questions from Ash. But Clary's reply surprised him even more than if she had told him where she had been.

"Please, Ash. I will talk to you tomorrow, just.... don’t." Stricken with shock, he watched her pale face. Bags were visible under her once lively eyes. Clary managed a weak smile, which looked strangely forced, and then walked away with a shaky sigh.

"What is up with her?" He had momentarily forgotten the presence of the other girl with bright blond hair.

"Watch it, kid. I won’t be so kind," Stella threatened.

Ash fell silent almost immediately, taking in her words.

"Who the heck are you calling a kid?!" he shouted in reply.

"You, of course, idiot. I thought it was obvious." She stuck out her tongue rudely.

"You little piece of--"

Their bickering seemed to have no end; it continued for 15 minutes straight, until Clary became so frustrated, she scolded them sternly to be quiet, and stomped away to bed. And they did stop; but the death glares they kept sending each other meant the battle was not won yet.

"This time I’ll let you off because of Clary, but if you argue with me again..." Stella trailed off in warning.

"You'll what?! Huh?!" he snorted. Choosing to remain silent, she smiled calmly, which only ticked Ash off even more.

"Sleep. Clary wouldn't like it if her patient didn't rest properly." She paused, standing up to leave. "Oh, and I wouldn't transform in front of her if I were you. She doesn't have good memories with animals in general. Especially scum like you." And with that, she was gone.

Scowling even more, Ash stared at the dark wooden ceiling, hands clenched into tight fists. It's not my fault I was turned in the forest, is it now? he thought with a sigh. But as much as he hated to admit it, he was exhausted beyond imaginable. His eyelids weighed a ton now, closing slowly but surely. And with that, the world went dark.

________________

Clary opened her eyes slowly as the sun stung them. She then proceeded to sit up, still dazed. The digital clock read 12:00 PM, meaning she had been asleep for a while. Was it all a dream? Clary thought, as she sprang up and changed into a blue oversized shirt and grey shorts that barely reached her knees.

Walking out of her gold and blue painted bedroom, she immediately rushed over to the white sofa. Ash wasn't there, but the sofa was tinted with the slightest shade of red. Of course he wasn't there. Why did I think that he would be here? Letting her tensed shoulders slump with an annoyed sigh, she had barely taken a step forward when a sweet smell hit her nostrils. It hung stubbornly in the air, refusing to give way for fresh air. It was coming from the kitchen.

Thinking it was just Stella trying to cook again, she walked inside the marble walls of the small kitchen. But it wasn't Stella; instead, a silver-haired boy stood at the stove, wearing the clothes she had given him the previous night, and was busily turning pancakes. Ash.

She was in shock for a few moments before she spoke.

"What are you doing?" Ash didn't even bother to turn around.

"Good morning," he stated. "I was just cooking breakfast, since that little friend of yours has gone to run an 'errand'." Clary started to protest, but he interrupted her.

"Don't even say it. I’m completely fine." To prove his point, Ash slid his grey shirt up just enough to show his wound; now gone, barely a scar on his muscular chest. Clary stared at him, dumbfounded. He grinned at her expression and went back to cooking. She sat down, staring at Ash's curved back as he leaned slightly over the stove. He really is something, Clary thought in admiration. But even if only for a second, she ached to touch his muscles, to see how they felt. A slight blush tinted her face as her heart fluttered in her chest. What am I thinking?!