The ride out of the hospital was an odd and silent affair. Jake pushed the wheelchair, Mrs Beakor walked swiftly ahead, and Seth sat rigidly. He half expected to hear his mother and sister come running after them, but they hadn't, and that bothered him more than he would have liked to admit. It should be a relief that they were letting him go so easily, but at the same time, it was a disappointment.

It showed how much they really cared.

When they approached the main entrance/exit of the hospital, they could see Tripp's car waiting for them through the glass doors. Tripp leaned against the side of the car casually while waiting for them, but when Mrs Beakor came towards him, he got a big old grin and came forward to greet her with open arms.

She wasn't shy about it either, grabbing him in a tight embrace and crushing his face into her chest. Tripp cackled like a crazy old man, clearly delighted with this. Seth grimaced and covered his eyes with his good hand. Gross.

They thankfully broke apart a moment later, with Tripp beaming. "Looks like everything worked out."

"Of course it did," Mrs Beakor swatted him. On the behind. (Seth coughed and cringed.) "It was my plan."

Tripp gave her a fond look of exasperation. "A plan that almost failed when you got kicked out for fighting with the nurses. I'm surprised they let you back in."

"They didn't." Mrs Beakor winked. She went to open the rear car door. Jake brought the wheelchair closer, and then set about lifting Seth inside.

Seth twisted in Jake's hold so he could stare at Mrs Beakor. "You what? You got into a fight?"

He momentarily lost sight of her as she went around the car while Jake deposited him in the backseat. While he was settling in, she scooted in next to him from the opposite side.

"It wasn't really a fight, kiddo. Those little girls would fall over if a sheet of paper landed on them."

She reached across Seth and took the blanket and pillow from Jake, who then shut the door and pushed the chair away from the curb. Seth used his good arm to buckle himself in, then watched as she piled the pillow and blanket in the center of the backseat. As thin as they were, they looked rather inviting at the moment.

"Isn't this stealing hospital property?"

"They won't care. Now come, why don't you rest? You're looking pretty wiped." She patted the pile between them.

Seth didn't really feel like it, but he was rather tired. Now that he was away from the hospital and away from his family, the tension started to fade leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion. He leaned in, but froze once he realized he'd be lying on his left side.

Grimacing, he twisted and sort of flopped over on his back, though the seat belt pulled uncomfortably at his waist. Tilting his head back, he gazed at the upside-down sideways version of Mrs Beakor's face.

"Do you have some aspirin or something?"

"Or something." She grabbed her purse and rifled through it. She didn't even bother asking what it was for.

A moment later, he heard the rattle of pills in a bottle and soon a single blue horse pill was held out to him. It didn't look like an aspirin, but he trusted her. He choked it down with a sip from a bottle.

He gratefully lay back on the pillow. His neighbor, boss, and coworker were incredible. He couldn't believe that they actually had a plan to break him out of the hospital. And they'd done just that, with no hesitation and no questions asked. Who did that? No sane people, that's for sure.

Seth thought it was very fitting. He didn't think he was all that sane himself anymore, not with all that was happening. Maybe that was why he felt entirely comfortable at the moment, in a car full of people that he'd only know for a few short weeks.

At the front of the car, Jake and Tripp had settled in. Jake's shoulders took up nearly the entire front compartment, still clad in purple nurse scrubs. It was completely ridiculous. Beside him, Tripp looked tiny, and he barely had enough room to drive the car.

As if sensing the attention, Tripp glanced back. "Okay?"

Seth smiled. "Yeah."

He meant it, too.

***

The smell of bacon drew him from the dark folds of sleep.

Seth shifted, clutching warm blankets closer to his chin, and breathed deep. The delicious aroma stirred his stomach, making him aware that it was absolutely ravenous.

He scrunched his nose, then rolled over. Immediately, he jolted, eyes flying open, because he'd moved onto his left side. The mark on his shoulder stabbed at him angrily.

Any chances of sleeping further vanished like a whisp of smoke. Reluctantly, he sat up, blankets gathering around his waist. Mrs Beakor didn't believe in half measures. One blanket wasn't enough. When she'd settled him on her couch last night, she'd thrown two over him, and left a third laying folded nearby just in case he needed it.

She must have heard him moving about, for she came around the corner. Her hair was all over the place and flour powdered her T-shirt. "You awake? Good. I'm making breakfast."

Seth half-smiled at the sight. She looked like a mess, even more than usual. He shifted on the couch, expression turning awkward.

"Hey, can you help me, please? I need to use the washroom."

"Sure thing, kiddo."

She wiped her hands on her shirt, smearing more flour around, and came over. They'd already been through this twice last night, so she knew what to do.

He pulled the blankets off, and raised his right arm. She took it and slung it around her neck, holding it in place, then wrapped her arm around him. With a grunt, she helped him to his feet, providing support while he struggled to stand.

"Ready?" She asked.

"No."

She laughed softly, then took the first step forward. He tried to follow, but it was like someone rewired the connections between his legs and brain. All he managed to do was lose his balance. He pitched forward, but she was there to catch him. Then she took a second step. He tried to match it, but ended up flinging a foot straight out in a knee-jerk reaction. It sent him backwards, almost throwing the both of them onto the couch. Yet she managed to keep them upright once again, displaying a steely strength.

"Sorry," he muttered. His ears burned red.

"It's fine," she reassured him. "Let's try again, all right?"

It took an agonizingly long time to make it across the apartment to her bathroom. Mrs Beakor showed an inhuman patience the entire time. She wrangled him down onto the toilet, where he assured her he could take it from there.

She snickered. "You sure?"

His face couldn't have gotten any redder. "Very sure!"

"You know, it wouldn't be the first time I've had to-"

"I've got it," he exclaimed. "Please leave now."

She didn't leave. Instead, she suddenly leaned down, her face uncomfortably close, and stared into his eyes.

He leaned back, startled. "What is it now?"

At first, she didn't say anything. Her expression had grown serious, but it only lasted for a few more seconds before she straightened. She pointed at her own eyes.

"These look a bit different. Might want to take a look when you're done." And with that bombshell, she left the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Seth stared at the closed door. A bit different? What was that supposed to mean?

He might have sat blankly for a while, but his bladder reminded him of his original purpose. Nervous curiosity made him even more clumsy than usual, and it took monumental effort just to get through the whole deal. When he finished, he managed to pull himself up by the edge of the counter.

He clung to it, legs splayed like a newborn foal. His grip was so tight that his wrapped wrist ached and the two fingers that had been taped together protested. But he barely even felt them.

Leaning forward, he stared into the mirror. The person looking back at him appeared like a stranger. The skin was so pale, with defined cheekbones and smooth hollows, and a chin that was more pointed than the rounded, fleshy thing he'd remembered. He didn't even know he had cheekbones, and he would have touched them if he wasn't so terrified of letting go and losing his precarious balance.

Had he lost weight? It was possible, since he'd been biking to and from work the past few weeks. He didn't think it would have been that much of a change, although he'd been in a coma for three days. That could be why he looked so wrung out.

But the eyes... they drew him in like a moth to flame. Dark gray shadows circled them like a panda, making them all the more prominent. He stared, and the first threads of the fragile calm began to snap.

His eyes had always been a blue-gray color. He knew it well because he saw it every time he looked at his sister. They shared the same eyes. But now, staring deep into the reflection in the mirror, he couldn't find the gray. Instead, he saw blue tinted with a subtle shade of lavender.

A tremor ran through him. It couldn't be. There was no possible way that his eyes could have changed. But Mrs Beakor had noticed. She said they looked different, so he wasn't imagining this. That meant it was real.

Just what was he supposed to do about this? This wasn't a normal shade, by any means. Right now, it was subtle enough to be passed off as a trick of the light, but what if it got worse? He'd be labeled as a freak!

Why had they changed? How had they changed?

A knock came on the bathroom door. "Seth? You finished?"

A shudder tore through him, accompanied by the sudden, hysterical need to cry. Or laugh. Or both at the same time. He'd expected to be a little out of whack from the Gifts, but this? This was actually changing him physically, and he wasn't prepared for that.

"Seth?" She knocked again.

He couldn't let her see him like this. She had no idea what was going on and he couldn't even imagine trying to explain it. How could someone believe something so impossible?

Seth took in a shuddering breath, struggling to steady himself. "Yeah, it's fine. I'm done."

The door opened immediately. Mrs Beakor filled the doorway. "Did you wash your hands?"

He flushed. "No."

"Okay, let's do that. Breakfast is about ready." She curled an arm around his shoulders, bracing him so he could use his hands. If she noticed the tremor running through him, she didn't say anything.

His thoughts tumbled over his current situation. He had so many questions. Like how the heck his eyes were changing color. Or how he'd woken up with the Clan tattoo on his arm. It was like the world of Eliona was following him back to Earth.

He needed to talk to Olen.