Fight for Life

Number Nine.
He just looks like you or me, but in reality, he comes from the planet Lorien. An alien, one of the few sent to Earth to escape their planet's destruction. Hunted by his enemies, the Mogodorians, Nine--although he will never admit it--would give anything for a break from his immense responsibilities.
Rachel Vega.
Once belonging to a trio of best friends, Rachel's life turned completely upside down when both of her friends became werewolves. Now one, Olivia Marx, is dead, murdered by one of her pack members, and the other, Grace, is fighting meningitis, the disease which will cure her of being a werewolf-- but only if she survives it first. And worse-- Rachel is becoming sick, herself, with a mystery illness.
When Nine is somehow sent to the world of Mercy Falls, he has no clue why: until he discovers that he could help save Rachel and Grace. Only that. And then leave. But will he be able to? Or will a certain freckled face make him rethink?
For the Crossover Contest...


5. Rachel


My name is Rachel.

All of a sudden, in a blur of fast-forwarding images, an icy sensation which spreads throughout my body, and a heaving breath which sends me out of my coma...

I am awake.

My eyes shoot open. Quick images come to me. I am lying in a bed. Sam is bending over me, looking incredibly happy. And the weight of the bedsheets on my legs, the way every breath feels, swooping through my lungs without a whisper... And compared to that nightmare I was just in, everything feels incredibly cool, like a summer breeze. "Oh!" I whisper delightedly.

I push myself up into a sitting position, looking into Sam's eyes as I do. "Boy," I say, using my pet nickname for him, "did you just save my life? I was sick, wasn't I? Totally delirious? Completely bonkers?"

Sam wobbles his head in a sort of yes-no. "Well, yes to the bonkers part. You were sick for about three days. You almost didn't make it."

"I knew it. In my dreams, I knew it."

Sam doesn't look surprised. He just nods abruptly. "But... I didn't save you, Rachel. He did." Sam steps away from the bed, and reveals a very important detail he had been previously disclosing.

Or, a guy he was standing in front of.

He's unconscious, and he's slumped against the wall in a sitting position. Messy dark brown hair, very, very muscular, pale skin... he looks like he could be Cole's macho twin. But while Cole is well muscled in a way that makes girls squeal (not me though! Although I have thought about it once or twice, I'll have to admit...), this guy is muscled like he spends most of his days living out in the woods, or on the run, or something. Like he has to fend for himself.

Well, truthfully, Cole is like that. But he's a wolf. That doesn't count. This guy is totally human.

Or is he?!

"Is he a werewolf, Sam?" I say patronizingly. His answer takes me by surprise.


"But he's... he's special. An alien or something. I forgot the details of his story, but he's being chased by a whole lot of bad alien guys called the Morgadans or something, who want to kill him and his friends. They also have powers and stuff, and he's got healing powers. That's how he saved you."

When I was normal, this story would have made me laugh. I mean, that story's right out of any bad sci-fi movie.

Buuuttt... that was before I met a werewolf. Or three. So I can't talk really, you know? And if he wasn't an alien, how was I alive now anyway?

I slide my legs over the edge of the bed and stand up, feeling my feet grace the cold floor for the first time in--it seems like it--weeks.

I walk towards the alien slowly. Somehow, I'm not even the slightest bit afraid. I mean, normally, I'd think, who knows what he's up to? He could be awake, and listening right now. Who knows what aliens are really like...?

But, for some weird reason, I know I'm okay.

"Where did you find him?" I murmur. I'm close enough now to see his face. It's perfect, as though it's been carved by angels...

"In the woods. I was watching him, and he saw me, and I acted like bait and led him to the clearing, where Cole was waiting with the tranquilizer darts."

I laugh, until I realize he's not joking. I stop in my tracks. "You're serious?"

Sam nods. "It was the only way. I saw him throw Paul--who was about to eat his face--off his chest. He threw him so high... I think Paul might be in North Dakota by now."

"You'd better drive there and see if anyone's seen a flying wolf lately."

"Yeah," says Sam, so seriously that I giggle a little. Once I've stopped, I kneel down beside the boy. I take his hand and hold my other hand to his forehead, checking for a temperature.

"Rachel? What are you doing?" asks Sam, a little hesitantly. "He's not ill."

I instantly withdraw my hand. "Erm... well... I was just making sure," I say, flustered. What really drove me to do that? "You know... like his healing powers might actually be absorbing powers, and he's absorbed whatever I had. Meningitis. Yeah." I'm babbling a little, sure that Sam will see through my pathetic lies.

But I can't, myself. And Sam seems to be buying it. But you can never tell with The Boy.

"What's his name?"

"Nine. Since he's the ninth in his group of aliens, or something."

"Nine..." I murmur, gazing at his face. His lovely, lovely eyelashes--

I should stop.

"It suits him," I decide. "Weirdly." When Sam isn't looking, I touch Nine's right cheekbone. 

"Uggghhhh..." I jerk back my and and am instantly alert. "Sam! He's waking up!"

Sam rushes to my side, and we lean over Nine as he wakes up.

"Uhhhh... Wassgoinon?" he slurs. "Uhhhh..." He blinks a couple of times, too quickly for me to make out the color of his eyes. "I feel terrible. My head..."

He shakes his head slightly...

and opens his eyes.


I feel a thrill go through me.

His eyes are a rich chocolatey brown. They fix onto mine with a flicker that makes my heart jolt. His eyes have a strange deepness to them.

I can't look away.

That is when I realize just how special he is.

To me.

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