we're just {hayden} strangers!

[Chevrolet Isabel Crowe]

It seemed like so long ago that Chey first met Hayden, that the world decided that they hated the person that her heart decided it was hooked on. She was never certain where it came from or why, she’d been so alone before that, maybe her need for someone to love her made her attach to someone that everyone despised, maybe it was just she’d spent so long being good and doing as she told that there was a rebellious element that she needed to be let loose. Either way, she couldn’t deny that she’d enjoyed the time she’d spent with Hayden. At first. She couldn’t explain what had changed. At first he was so devoted to her, what made her happy, it was like the world turned for her. He’d made her laugh and smile and she liked that no matter what her feeling were for him.

It seemed so sudden, the change in him. All of a sudden he was cruel every now and then. He snapped at her and he disappeared into his own world so often. She could be next to him and feel like he was a million miles away. That’s why the night before seemed so out of character to her. She knew that wasn’t right. The moment it started. She felt like she wanted it. Everything inside her was trying to tell her she did but… It felt wrong.

Her body still ached, it hurt physically from their actions the night before, but more than anything her chest felt heavy. She tried desperately to convince herself that this was right, that she was okay. She wasn’t. Not at all. She wasn’t even doing a convincing part of lying to herself. She was just so angry, so angry at the world, at everything, that she couldn’t bring herself to break away from the lie Hayden was feeding her. No matter how much her heart yearned for another, his magic joined forces with her insecurities to make her the perfect target.

The distant sound of a trickling shower matched perfectly with Chevrolet’s face. The tentative trickle of tears that raced each other down, past her tired eyes and over her porcelain skin. She was, at this moment, void of the purity that once plagued her, the same one that she already missed terribly. Her features seemed dark and tired, teeming with suspicion. She’d started to wonder about the man currently washing the smell of her off of him in the room next to her. Question his motives. She’d gone from being so certain of him only hours previous to unsure now.

Was it just the fact he’d snapped at her? Been so strange lately? So cruel. Or was it the fact that after taking her love so ruthlessly he was unable to look her in the eye? Either way, as she listened to the water pumps still whirring through his place, she saw an opportunity. Lifting her body despite itself and its distaste in the matter, she wandered blindly around the room, her fingers ran over thing gently, items left lying around. She’d never known an apartment to be so cold, void of a person’s personality. Everyone had personal items, right?

No sooner had her fingers run over the top of his dresser, were her hands around the handles and pulling a drawer towards her. Her hands scurried through the piles of clothes in each drawer, moving up them until her fingers landed upon something cold and metal in his underwear drawer. At first she wondered if it was a weapon, she thought it was just a female cliché to keep a gun in the underwear drawer, but as her fingertips examined it she realised it was more than that. Her hand curled around it, pulling it into her palm to examine it before she sat on the edge of the bed, taking the site of it in further. She knew she’d seen it before, she was sure of it, but it wasn’t on Hayden. She waited desperately to click, unfortunately for her, as it did, the sound of the shower suddenly silenced.

Slipping the trinket quickly into a back pocket of her bag, Chey rushed to the draw so silently she might as well have been running across the air. As she waited for Hayden to enter the room she straightened out the items within the draw and plucked a pair of his underwear from the top, holding them in front of them like she was simply sizing them up.

[Hayden Outlawe]

How had things gotten so insane for Hayden? How had he allowed himself to fall so far in such a short amount of time? It hadn't been so long ago that he'd said he was going to change. That he wasn't going to use magic for everything, that he was going to make amends for his crimes, that he was going to help people. What had happened to that Hayden? How had he allowed his hatred for the crimes of a few people to turn him against so many, including the girl lying next to him in his bed?

Truth was, Hayden felt nauseous as he laid there. He felt like a monster... Hell, he WAS a monster. Shaking his head, Hayden glanced over at Chey, who still seemed asleep as she lay next to him. How could it have come to this? Sure, when he found out she was a hunter, it had sent a chill of hatred up his spine. When he learned of her family, he had fought so hard against the desire to hurt them all, Chey included... But now? How could it have come to this? In the beginning, Chey had been so amazing. When they'd first met, it had been cute. She was sweet, and funny, and kinda goofy. But he hadn't wished any harm against her... Then, when he'd learned the truth... Something in him had snapped. He had to keep her close, that was all he'd known. And it had been so easy. A little magical herb induced feelings here, a little pathokinesis there, and she'd been his. But even with her under his control... Hayden had never been able to bring himself to hurt her. Never. In fact, he'd done all he could to try and make those feelings she had real. He'd done all he could to make her happy, knowing the pain she felt deep down, how held back she felt. Even after Deucalion's offer... Even after he knew he'd need the sacrifices of hunters to gain the power he needed, he hadn't harmed her. But now?

He didn't know what was happening to him. He'd invoked so much power... It had hurt him so much. Then... It seemed the more he did, the more death that happened around him... That first hunter had changed him. He'd saved that young werewolf girl, but the hunters death... The power the sacrifice had given him... It made him darker. And without even realizing it, he'd begun to take that rage out on Chey. Random spits of anger, cruelty. He tried to stop it... Tried to ignore that hatred. But the power wouldn't let him... Even as he tried to stop it, tried to block it out after each time he snapped, it was just all there was. Then... It all changed with Gerard's death. His regret had been instant. Gerard had told him what Deucalion would do to him when it was all over, how he hated his kind... How he was turning into a monster. It had made him sick... Then, when Gerard had taken his last breath, when Hayden had pulled the very life from within him, something else had come other than just power... Something horrible and painful. Something that had left him angry and weak since that moment. It was all that ran through his mind. He spent most of his time lost in his thoughts, ignoring everyone around him, even Chey.

But he'd tried... He still tried... He wanted to prove he could be good. But he knew what Chey felt wasn't real... Why was he keeping her around now? Why? And then last night... He felt sick... He had taken her out, tried to be good to her like before, but every time he looked at her, all he could think about was all his lies, all his tricks, how he'd murdered a member of her family and she didn't even know it. Did any of them know Gerard was dead? He didn't care... Did he? That wasn't what last night was about... But when they'd gotten back to his apartment... He had wanted to show her he had changed. Open up to her. Hoped it would change him, but as they'd gotten closer, as they had started... All he could think about was the hatred. It was like all the hatred he'd ever felt was flowing through him at full speed, consuming him. He hadn't meant to be so rough. She hadn't fought him, he hadn't tried to hurt her... But his anger had been evident. To call it angry sex was putting it mildly. He wasn't sure what had happened to him... But he felt like he had just brutalized her. And it made him sick. What he had done, all his lies, all the darkness within him, it all felt so much more evident each time he looked in her eyes, and what had started out so normal had just become an expression of anger as they had rolled around in the sheets.

Sighing, Hayden just felt like he needed to get away. It literally felt like the room had started shaking as he'd thought on his anger, and it was so strange. Sitting up, he moved softly, trying not to wake her. He wanted to be in the shower and away from her before she woke up. Before she left. He didn't want to have to face the reminder of what had happened. Didn't want to pretend it didn't happen, act like a dick who didn't care. So often now, he did. Either just completely spaced out or just shrugged her off, it wasn't him. Not the real him. It was this... Thing inside of him. This hatred, this darkness...And it was only worse now. He could feel the power on him becoming stronger, becoming different, but he could also feel some part of him weakening. Whatever he had taken from Gerard... It had damaged that part of him.

Sighing, he glanced at his wallet on the nightstand beside the bed, glancing at the pictures of his family inside it before tossing it in the floor and walking into the bathroom, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his discarded jeans and grabbing a t-shirt and jeans before shutting the bathroom door behind him. Turning on the music player app, Hayden stepped out of his boxer briefs, turning the water to the perfect temperature, although far hotter than he'd usually have set it to. Closing his eyes to the light music coming from his phone, he shook his head, stepping out of the cool and into the streaming heat of the water. It felt so good, the powerful streams massaging his tense skin as the hot water attempted to wash away the filth that coated him. Thing was, it wasn't a filth that could be washed away. What made Hayden dirty wasn't something that could simply be washed away. It was guilt. Or possibly self-hatred. Or maybe both. He honestly wasn't even sure.

Running a hand over his face, he closed his eyes, letting the water come down over his head, down his face, coating him entirely as the music played. For a moment, even just a small one, the world was gone. Washed away with the sound of rock music and streaming water. The smell of Chey's perfume was gone in the water, the smell of the sweat they had both created that night, and the guilt of what he had done was washing away the same way. What was wrong with him anyway? Why had last night messed with him so badly? What had happened? He could usually shrug it all off.. But it was like something was taking his control. Making him stronger in some ways, in his hatred, but making him weaker in others... He had to focus though. Keep his control until he could get away. Leave Beacon Hills and all the trouble here behind... But for now, the Argents, the Crowes, and the Alpha Pack... They were standing in his way. He knew the hunters were a threat he couldn't leave to one day find him, but he also knew Deucalion wouldn't just let him leave. He would kill him as soon as he was no longer useful to him. Gerard's warning echoed that in his mind.

Fuck...

Hayden groaned loudly at his own thoughts. What felt like mere seconds had turned into minutes as he stood there. Groaning at his own weakness, Hayden fought it. Embracing the dark within him for a moment, needing that strength to keep from breaking down, Hayden washed himself quickly, trying to wash every thought and smell from his flesh and hair, then stepped out of shower. Turning the water off, he stood there for a moment, watching the steam from the heated water swirl around him in the room. It was interesting to watch, to see how he noticed the very movements of the air now. Noticed the energy that flowed through all the elements, binding them together. Looking around the bathroom, Hayden located his toothbrush. His eyes watched his reflection, noticed the subtle changes as he brushed his teeth. His eyes were lighter, strange even to him. He face showed more worry than it had in a long time, looking tired even after a long shower. There was something else there, something he couldn't explain.

Hearing an odd noise from his room, Hayden looked towards the door, dropping his toothbrush in the process. Yelling at himself for being so jumpy, he quickly made a move to reach for it, his heart skipping a beat as he watched the next event unfold before him. As if he had grabbed it, the falling toothbrush stopped moving in the air. The air itself seemed to catch it, holding it there and pulling it upwards toward him. It was strange, almost scary. Hayden could feel the power flowing through him, pulsing inside him, stopping only when the toothbrush was once again in his hand. Looking at his hand for a moment, he was shocked at what he had just done. Turning to look at himself in the mirror, Hayden nearly screamed as he saw the white glow coming from his eyes, then he heard it. The distinct sound of a dark ominous laugh in his head.

Throwing the toothbrush into the sink, Hayden groaned at himself. "No... No... Stop it Hayden... He was evil... He deserved it..." He spoke aloud to himself, but it didn't stop what he felt. Something had changed in him. Doing these things had changed him.

Sighing, he pulled on the clothes he'd grabbed earlier and stepped out of the bathroom, the steam flowing into the much cooler bedroom as he looked around. He was almost started to see Chey standing there, but at least the sound he'd heard made sense.

"Oh, you're still here?" He didn't mean for it to come off as cold as it sounded, like she was nothing but a cheap one night stand, but he didn't correct himself either as he walked across the room to gather his stuff, sliding his wallet into his back pocket and getting his keys off the nightstand. Turning back, Hayden had meant to ask her if she needed a ride home, instead he found her standing there, holding his boxers up as if examining them. His heart pounded in his chest at the idea of her there, at what she may have seen. Walking over to her, he reached under the pile of clothes on the dresser, feeling against the grimoire hidden there, then he felt it. The ring dagger currently lying there from a few nights before.

"Find what you were looking for?" He asked coldly, eying her. He didn't want to hurt her, but if she had found it, his proof, his souvenir, whatever you would call it, he would. Eying her, waiting for a reply, he kept his hand under the pile of clothes, gripping the dagger tightly. But, as he watched her, all that ran through his mind was what was mere inches from her, hopefully still hidden in that drawer.

Gerard's last choking breath escaped his lungs, that smile long gone as the life left his eyes, all that was left of it flowing out of him and into Hayden's hand which was firmly planted against his back, all of Hayden's strength focusing on the beating of his heat and on the air in his lungs which he was taking, suffocating him in a way no one would know, but would still count as a sacrifice to his power. He had no need to slit the man's throat, as there was already black blood coming from his mouth. But as he watched the man fall forward, dead, he felt that pain flow through him. And agony he couldn't explain. Then, as he fought that feeling, feeling himself get weaker and more lightheaded as he stood there, he spotted something on the desk in front of him. A pill holder; small, seemingly insignificant. But it was there, it was proof of what he had done and where he had been, and he wanted it. Taking it, he looked back at Gerard's lifeless body, staring back at him with vacant eyes. "A gift. Proof for Deucalion."

If she found it, that was it. It was all over. The hunters would come for him, and even if he killed all of them, he would be too weak to take care of the alphas. Looking at the girl he had fought caring for all this time, he waited. Waited to see what move she made. Waited to see if she questioned him. Just waited... If she said nothing, then maybe she didn't know. Maybe she hadn't seen it. Maybe she was curious. She had just had sex with him the night before... Maybe this was one of those curiosity things... Maybe she just wanted to wear them? Part of him hoped beyond hope it was something simple. That this was one of those silly Chey moments... Some joke about him fitting "all that" into those boxers or something. Something... Anything...

Please Chey... Please... Don't make me do this...

[Chevrolet Isabel Crowe]

Chey's niavity ran through everything she'd done. Every second she'd spent with Hayden she had been niave but she needed to be. She might have been a fool for believing this was real. With the magic aside, there was a part of her brain that held onto it so hard for fear of losing everything if she didn't. She had spent years convincing herself that Colt didn't want her, every school she'd ever been to she'd been referred to as 'odd' and well lets face it, she didn't get out much so unless she'd met someone at ballet. She'd never been one to ignore her instincts, to shut them off on the rare occasions that his will upon her altered and told her she needed to get away. She'd ignored her family, her friends, everyone to pursue this relationship with Hayden and it wasn't her, but it was. There had been times you could be convinced his laugh was genuine, that he'd felt something for Chey that wasn't fake, that wasn't because she was genuinely warm and loving and she'd shown him more of that than he rightly deserved.

Even Chey wasn't sure how'd she'd stayed so calm. Maybe it was because after everything she finally realised this was her fighting for her life. It proved her smart. When someone else might have questioned him, asked him why he had the things that he did and made a fuss of it, Chey knew what she had to do. She had to act like the Chey that believed she loved him. Either version of Chey had to admit that the way he acted when he saw that she was still there hurt. Her arms dropped slightly, still holding the material in her hands and her eyes looked down. Why was he being so cruel? Why did he work so hard to get her to let her go? She closed her eyes desperately until his voice broke through the darkness yet again. Taking a deep breath, Chey perked herself back up, turning slowly on her heels and holding the elastic of his underwear on one finger.

"Don't mind if I borrow a pair right?" If Chey didn't get into the art academy she'd be heart broken. After all, she was acting her ass off perfectly. "If you didn't feel the need to tear mine, I wouldn't have to find something else now, would I? You even left a mark." Turning her body, she ran her finger over the friction burn that graced her side. She hid it perfectly but the whole thing made her feel sick. The way he'd taken her body, taken all that left her pure and turned it into something dark and disgusting... She couldn't think about it, she could but live where she was here and now. Moving her hand she put two fingers into the gap in the middle of the material, prising the hole apart. "Sure I don't need that but it's just a temporary fix."

[Hayden Outlawe]

Hayden stared into her eyes, waiting for her reply. It felt like hours passed, despite being mere moments. One hand gripped the dagger behind him so tightly he guessed his knuckles had turned white from lack of circulation, the other was beside him, alternating between a clinched fist and open palm with each heartbeat.

His chest hurt, his heart beating so hard within his ribcage. He felt sick, hated himself for how he was acting, how he'd treated her and how he had spoken to her. But part of him knew... Part of him hated her. Hated what she was. It was the part of him he had slowly started to forget... But it had never left. Now... Now it told him to kill her. Get it over with before it was too late. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't hurt her... Not again. So he waited... Looked at her... Watched how she seemed so small and hurt, yet held herself up. She was strong. Despite how he'd treated her, and how he'd... Taken her, she was strong. It was that very strength that had drawn him to her, strength masked by innocence. Innocence he'd taken...

"Chey, I..."

"Don't mind if I borrow a pair right?"  Blinking, Hayden didn't think to stop the automatic sigh of relief that came out. "If you didn't feel the need to tear mine, I wouldn't have to find something else now, would I? You even left a mark."

Looking down, Hayden felt a pang of disgust wash over him. Even in this state... Even with what felt like all the darkness in California flowing through him, Hayden never thought he'd do this. When he'd been with Chey... He'd felt like a real connection was developing there. It wasn't just magic and herbs, it wasn't just pathokinesis manipulating her emotions. Her emotions had nothing to do with him. And he knew it... He knew now... Something inside him, it told him that as he'd done all these things. Killed hunters, called forth powers beyond what he should have... His hold on her had weakened. Something... Something she felt. It had been real too. Then he'd done this. In a moment of rage, a moment that should have been beautiful, should have been him showing her SOME sort of passion, was instead a moment he'd taken her in anger. All he'd seen when he looked at her was an Argent hunter.

"Sure I don't need that but it's just a temporary fix."

"Chey, I... Sure. No problem. Borrow whatever you need."

Releasing his grip from the knife, he slid it back into the pile of clothes. Looking around the room, Hayden felt the urge to apologize. To ask her of she was okay... To make sure he hadn't hurt her. Instead, he just held onto the look of sorrow, not hiding his guilt, but staying silent and ignoring it. Walking past her, he made his way over to the drawer where his socks resided and pulled out a pair, then walked over to the bed and sat down. Sliding the socks on, he looked up at Chey.

"So, you hanging here today, or do you need me to give you a ride home? Ride to school? Wherever ya need... Or whatever." His voice was hollow of emotion as he asked her. He had to act this way, to hide how bad he felt. But to her... He probably seemed like an ass. Or he would, if she wasn't still under his power. Which she had to be, right? Why else would she still be there, with him, after he'd acted how he had? "I've got some stuff to handle today, but... I guess you can stay if you want.

[Chevrolet Isabel Crowe]

She was just trying to stay strong. It was taking everything within her for her knees not to buckle and her body not hit the floor. She didn't know he was struggling with the reality of what he'd done, all she knew was that she was. She wanted to be sick. She wanted everything in her body to give up so she didn't have to do this anymore. She'd heard of the heart breaking but she didn't know how much it hurt... Physically hurt. It was like spiders webs of electricity flowing out from her chest and down her arms and legs, flowing up towards her head where it drove her thoughts crazy. It took everything in her to fight against it and act normal. She cleared her throat and dressed herself the best she could around sore limbs and bruises. "Actually I'm heading over to Allison's, I have a french test tomorrow morning and she's fluent and I'm... well.. not that good.... Her side of the family is French originally, even her surname......" Rolling her eyes, Chey pulled a large jumper around her tiny frame. "Sorry... I'm sure you don't really care. But you get on with your stuff, I'll call you later or something?"

[Hayden Outlawe]

Hayden glanced back at Chey when she seemed to hesitate before answering him. With his socks now on, he slid his boots on and walked around, grabbing his watch and bracelets, then sliding his ring onto his finger. Glancing down, he eyed his talisman, always present around his neck. He thought about everything... Thought about the guilt that was bubbling under the surface, thought about the anger and hatred he was trying so hard to control. But, each new thought simply led him back to Chey.

Hearing Chey clear her throat, he glanced back at her once more. "Actually I'm heading over to Allison's, I have a french test tomorrow morning and she's fluent and I'm... well.. not that good.... Her side of the family is French originally, even her surname......" Rolling her eyes, Chey pulled a large jumper around her tiny frame. "Sorry... I'm sure you don't really care. But you get on with your stuff, I'll call you later or something?"

Hayden wasn't able to hide his slight shock as she said that. Didn't care? Something about that made him feel uneasy. I mean, of course he didn't really care. Or did he? He wasn't even sure anymore... But his control over her was supposed to make her believe he did either way. Was supposed to leave her to trust him unconditionally, over everyone and everything. Surely it wasn't faltering? No, no, of course it wasn't. He was just being paranoid, and Chey was just being Chey.

"Alright, sounds good, I guess. You can call me later tonight or something, I guess. Like I said, have business to handle." He didn't elaborate any further on that. How could he? What was he supposed to say, that he was hoping to find Deucalion, a psychotic and powerful alpha werewolf who had helped him find and murder a member of her family? Yeah... No. "Allison, huh? Yeah, I guess she probably would be fluent. Argent, french for silver..."

He stopped with that, sighing and shaking his head. That name even bothered him...That word. It was all a reminder of his crimes, of his guilt. Guilt he didn't want and shouldn't have.
What he didn't know though, was that with that simply sentence, with that little word, he had sealed his own fate. And all it had taken was a name...

[Chevrolet Isabel Crowe]

This was exhausting. Just standing there, being normal. It was exhausting. She was fighting the desire to break down into tears, to throw her fists into his chest and ask why he was doing this to her. Instead she kept her head up, the way she was taught. Her teachings as a hunter were incredibly limited but her dad always taught her to keep her cool. She could stand her ground, she could keep her head up. She had to. She smiled as she listened to him, nodding her head slightly. She was sure she saw the tinge of guilt but she couldn't bring herself to believe it was real. She was almost certain that if she did convince herself it was real, she'd know it was the only thing that was. She was coming to the painful realization that this was all fake and she wasn't sure how it could be. Every little smirk he gave her every time she did something goofy, every time he tucked her hair behind her ear and the faint kisses he'd placed upon her forehead when he thought she'd already fallen asleep. It was all fake and she couldn't understand.

"Yeah, Silver. It's got a better ring to it though, Argent, I don't think Allison Silver flows so well." She couldn't announce that it sounded more ironic that way too but instead she finished getting dressed and pulled her bag onto her shoulder. "But yes - I'll call you later." Moving towards him she placed one hand against his jaw and placed a kiss on his opposite cheek. Despite everything, there was a hint of the feelings he was forcing her to feel that lingered and because she knew that this would probably be the last time she'd ever let herself be this close, she lingered. Her lips lingered about his skin, cold and fragrant from stepping out of the shower. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, whispering for the last time that she was certain she'd still believe it. "I love you." She'd said it so many times before that it was easy to not question it, she sounded so certain even if she wasn't. And then she stepped back, smiling at him before she turned for the door.