[ a/n sorry for lack of chapters, I've been beyond busy. This isn't completely edited, but I'm working on it. Give me your thoughts x ]

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It had been so easy to throw paper planes. So easy to be lost in a world of serenity and peace. So easy to be lost in the petty dramas and useless squabbles that came with clashing thoughts. So easy to believe it would all work out, that the broken pieces would fall into place.

But now it was all too difficult.

All I could seem to focus on was the ticking of the clock on the wall, the minute hand moving painfully slow, and the hour hand moving even painfully slowly. For a small while, I found myself breathing in sync with the sound, but as soon as I noticed, it became as uncoordinated as everything else.

"I'll just be a moment," Evan said beside me, breaking the silence between us. Standing, he reached into his pocket to answer a call, stepping outside through the sliding glass doors. I was now alone, the stench of disinfectant welcoming compared to everything else. Nervously, I began to tap my foot impatiently.

I sat in a hospital reception area, rows of empty chairs lining the lifeless grey walls. A receptionist sat at her desk, typing away, and giving a glance at me every now and again. The minute hand continued to tick by, along with the growing doubt of Evan's return.

With growing agitation, I decided to message Jake to let him know of the situation. Opening the Smartwatch, I began to scroll through the contacts. There were already seven contacts, with various labels aside their names.

Emergency Services, Booking Appointments, Jake Morris [Assigned Partner], Evan Jackson [Co-worker/Supervisor], Marlin Peterson [Co-worker] [Deactivated], Noah Williams [Co-worker], Scott Preston [Co-worker].

I found my eyes hovered over the names for a moment, processing what each name and tag meant. The spider of guilt followed by a sickness filled me as I read the added tag aside Marlins name, still trying to process what had happened earlier that day. The light had begun to set through the windows. After quite a few minutes of debating with myself, I sent Jake a message.

"Hey Jake, this is Rebecca (obviously) – just wanted to let you know that I might be home late tonight. Scott got hurt really badly, so I am at the hospital, please let Jessie know,"

I soon got a returned message, wishing him the best and that he would let her know. Sighing, I sat back into the chair, closing my eyes for a moment. I held Scott's broken glasses in my hand, running my fingers gently over the broken glass, wishing for nothing more than this nightmare to be over. Day after day of a new drama, a new issue.

Despite all these things that should be running through my head, battling for my attention and worry, I could only seem to focus on one thing. Scott. Worries of his health, confusion at just who he is, and so many questions and thoughts I just couldn't quieten. His cries for help continued to echo in my ears, the desperation in his voice as he clutched his eye, the awful color of blood. Thinking about such things, I hadn't even noticed I had begun to drift into sleep.

"Miss?" a woman shook my leg, causing me to jump from my light doze. She looked worried, causing my heart to jump as I sat up properly, looking around. She frowned as she said, "I didn't think you'd still be waiting for him..."

"Is he alright?" I asked, picking up the glasses which had fallen to the ground. They were slightly crooked, and along with the crack, reminded me of something Lillian used to find in the Lower City Region dumpsite.

"He's out of surgery now..." she said, causing me to let out a large sigh of relief. I stood up, half expecting the emotionless boy to be walking out, a criticizing look on his face as he accused me for breaking the glasses. She frowned, "He's sleeping now, but you can wait in there for him,"

I nodded, eagerly following the woman down the long hallway. Her heels click against the marble flooring, much as the clock in the waiting room. Distantly, there was the clicking of keyboards, passing a room with men arguing, and a woman crying in another. Clutching the glasses, we stopped at a door.

The woman swiped her keycard, the door unlocking. As she opened the door, my eyes scanned around the place, looking at the boy I had been so worried about for the past few hours. I realized now how strong the scent of disinfectant was, scrunching my nose at the scent of it. Eventually, my eyes wandered to one of the beds.

Scott lay there, beside him, another much older woman was asleep. His left eye was wrapped in a bandage, a heart monitor beside him following the same repetitive beat. Oddly, he appeared peaceful, although it was apparent now more than ever the bruises which hung around his neck. The lady gave me a half-smile, as if she was pitying me.

She turned around, closing the door as the left, and I listened as her shoes tapped against the marble until fading away. I was now alone in the room with him. Scott. Somebody who had caused so many problems by just speaking his mind, somebody who I thought impossible to feel any sort of emotion. Somebody who had called for help.

And yet here he was, looking more broken than ever.

Gently, I placed the glasses onto the bedside table, my hand hesitating on them for a moment. Looking to Scott, I half expected him to awake with sour words and insults. Glaring at me and asking me questions I couldn't answer. But he just lay there, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

I lay my head in my arms on the bed for a moment, exhausted from the day's revelations. Much as before, I never planned to sleep, merely close my eyes and allow myself a break from the chaotic space. But instead, I found myself drifting off into sleep, the faint buzz of medical machines and footsteps of hospital staff passing.

It felt like mere seconds before I was once more suddenly awoken. I was in a daze, my senses slightly thrown off. Quickly sitting up, I was faced with an awake Scott, fumbling to put on his cracked glasses. For a moment, I was confused at the situation, but quite quickly it seemed to return in a wave. At the sight of me awake, Scott frowned.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" I said, quickly straightening my jacket. My words were slightly slurred from my drowsy state. I tried to give a small smile, perhaps hide the fear I felt whenever I looked at him. That everything I did seemed to be wrong.

"No, I believe I woke you," he said in his usual emotionless tone, something which was surprisingly relieving. He brought a hand to his left eye, gingerly running his fingers over the bandages. The lens contained a crack down the center.

"No no it's fine, I shouldn't be sleeping here anyway," I said, standing up, feeling his watchful gaze scrutinize every movement I made. I turned towards the door, "Sorry I should go,"

"Why are you apologizing?"

"I know you hate me, and I just sorta... fell asleep. Sorry, I'll leave." I seemed to stumble over the words, and out of habit, I began to shift uncomfortably. Despite only one eye being visible, it watched me intently.

"I don't hate you," He said, and as per usual, no emotion clung to his words as it did mine. If anything, he seemed irritated, "And please stop apologizing. Why are you here?"

"I... well Noah was taken somewhere, and when I was waiting with Evan he got a phone call and just didn't come back and I just..." I began to ramble, my heart beating faster. Everything had happened so quickly and I found myself remembering his cries for help as he stared at me. After a pause, I continued, "I wanted to make sure you were okay,"

"Why?"

"Why what?" I stammered, slightly shocked by the surprise in his voice.

"Why did you want to make sure I was okay? Do you think there was anything you could do if I wasn't?" His words, as per usual, were calculated. A curious gleam in his eye as he asked, the crooked glasses falling forward.

"I guess I just..." I said, not entirely sure how to answer his question, "Even if you don't consider me one, I consider you a friend..."

"That doesn't explain why you're here,"

"Because... that's what friends do for each other, don't they?"

"Oh," he frowned, furrowing his brow, before leaning back into the pillow. I tried to ignore the humming of a nearby machine and the uncomfortable ache in my heart. I shifted uncomfortably, walking back over to sit at the chair.

"I'm sorry about your glasses," I said quietly, not knowing what else to say. What are you supposed to say in this type of circumstance?

"You need to stop apologizing for every minor inconvenience I face, especially those that don't involve you," his words were sharp, and his message was contradictory. He seemed frustrated, yet his wording implied it wasn't at my fault. I sat up properly, trying to read him as he read me.

"Sorry I... uh,"

"Don't apologize... what time is it?"

"2 am -ish... I was here until around 11, Jake and Jessie already know," I said the last words quietly, only thinking of how that conversation would happen. Last I had talked to Jessie, she had given me more questions than answers. Much as Scott was, her interests seemed contradictory.

"Jessica must be relieved," he said, closing his eyes for a moment as he drew in a deep breath.

"Why?"

"You don't want to know," he seemed to wish to brush off the topic, something which he often despised doing. If anything, Scott was known for drawing on a conversation to a point far longer than it needed to be. Or he would bluntly end it. Never had I seen such a dismissal.

"I do want to know," I said, looking at him. Opening his eyes, he stared me down, almost to a point where I feared looking away. It was although he was not only reading me but trying to get to me. Try to understand me.

"She hates me," he said finally, his voice not changing, his eyes remaining curiously on me. However, his phrase caused me to frown.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, slightly taken aback by how forward he had been.

"Unlike you, I don't just randomly assume people hate me," Scott said, the sharp words causing me to flinch and look away. After another moment, he said, "She told me. Said she hates me,"

"Why would she say that?"

"Because she hates me?"

"Why would she hate you?" A part of me already knew the answer, and Scott most likely knew that. But there was a pity in his eyes, a hidden sadness that I couldn't stop focusing on. Almost as if it were the only sliver of humanity he had.

"Because I'm not Jake," he said finally, turning away. I wanted to say something to him, say something to the boy caught up in the wires of the hospital bed. I wanted to tell him that that wasn't the reason why.

But we both knew it was.

"Can I ask you something?" I said, my voice quite a contrast against the vacant room, the sound seeming to catch on the air. I looked down, unable to find myself meeting his eyes.

"That is a question in itself, but yes," it was almost a relief to hear him back to his critical self. Taking things literally, or simply not believing what you say entirely. Yet, it wasn't the same, it could never be the same. Already so much had changed, that every day was another life entirely.

"On the first day of work, you told me that you are Jessie were compatible, that the computer doesn't make mistakes," I recalled it like it was so many years ago, yet to think mere days would be impossible. Sighing, I looked up to meet the curious eyes, "Do you still think that?"