By the time I had entered my house for the second time that night, my body had gone into sleep zone. My mind clutching every fibre of energy it had left. I glanced to my uncle, who flicked on the light. Showing a trashed house.

"You don't have to do this for me" I say, glancing to him and then to the stairwell.

"With Liz still in hospital, what kind of uncle would I be if I left you all alone?" he says.

I nod in agreement. Walking up the stairs. Inside of my bedroom, I see papers sprawled everywhere. Covering every inch of the bedroom. I bend down and pick a sheet up, inspecting it and all the names listed on the page.

As I read on I see names that are more familiar.

Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Derek Hale, Kira Yukimura, Satomi Ito, Malia Hale and I stop when my eyes land on Liam's name.

"What is this?" I ask, turning to face Chris.

"Its a dead pool." he answers.

And then there's that big question that crosses my mind. Why the hell are they all over my floor?

"Why do I have these everywhere?" I ask, feeling my eyes droop at every second.

"I'll clean them up. You just go to sleep" he says. I walk to my bed, slipping my shoes off and getting under the covers. Not bothering to change into bed clothes.

And what do you know- I'm asleep before I hit the pillow.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

The sun shines through the bedroom window and through my eyelids. Making me stir uncomfortably in my place. I bend over, clicking the home button on my iPhone and looking at the time.

12:00 PM

I sit up abruptly. Shifting out of bed. I smile to myself when I see a clean bedroom floor.

I wrap myself in a robe and walk down stairs, and into the kitchen.

Chris is down there, flicking through the television channels.

"Morning" I slur, reaching for the fridge and getting a glass of milk.

"You're up. Good." he says, standing up.

"Why is that good? I should be allowed to sleep for all of eternity"

He chuckles.

" I want to do some training with you"

"I do an hour of training every morning of every weekday. Isn't that enough for you?" I growl.

Instead of some smart remark, Chris just laughs.

I gulp down the milk.

"Okay. Lets go"

So downstairs we go, and into the basement where a treadmill and weight bench lye's. I lean back on the weights.

"Okay. Start with ten. Lift it five times successfully and we add another. See if you can beat your PB" he states.

I roll my eyes. "Whats my PB?"

"10"

I glare at him.

"Hit me up"

My knuckles go white because I grip the weight bar so tightly. As my uncle puts ten kilograms on, I lift it. Easy! I lift it five times, smirking at my uncle.

He puts another ten on. I lift it. He puts another ten.

Okay, so I struggled a little bit but soon enough I reach five pushes. Without hesitation Chris puts more on.

My arms tense as I struggle to lift the weights.

"You're lifting half your own weight. Come on" Chris says.

Oh for god sake, here I lied with my uncle, dressed in a fluffy pink robe, lifting weights.

"I just woke up from a freaking stressful night. Let me take my time!" I yell at him, dropping the weights down onto the rest.

He sighs, walking to the opposite side of the room. Running his hands over his mouth and beard.

"This is not good. You're weak" he says. I stand straighter.

"Don't you think I'm trying?!" I yell. He still resists the urge to yell in my stupid face.

"NO. I don't." He simply replies, locking eyes with mine. I look away, a tear escaping my eye.

I take a step closer to him. "What do you want from me?" I ask, my voice small and cracked.

"I want you to be prepared. Kate and her berserkers- an assassin- anyone could march up to you at this very second. I'm not gonna be there! You're gonna have to do it! They aren't going to wait until you've had your hot chocolate- or until you've fully woken. So why should I?"

I crinkle my nose. Walking back to the weight bench and throwing my robe to the floor. I lie back down, gripping the bar tightly.

I push up, feeling my muscles (yeah- even if they're tincy) tense.

First push.

A small smile spreads on Chris's face.

I push up again- this time, doing two pushes.

By now my arms hurt but I push through, ignoring it. I bite my lip hard and push up.

Fourth lift.

And then I do another, successfully lifting 50.

I slide out.

"You happy?" I say, raising an eyebrow. Chris smiles, laughing a light chuckle. He throws his arm around my shoulder and he walks up the stairs with me.

"I wouldn't want to be the poor bloke who loses to you. There might be some serious injuries dealing with this Argent right here"

And I smirk, nudging him playfully.

"I'll make the pancakes- and then we can go visit mum? Okay?" I say. He nods.

"Sounds good to me- but I was kind of thinking waffles. With Ice cream. "

"Sounds good to me"