Chase was discharged from the hospital at noon the next day. We didn't have a car, so instead we called a cab to get us there. It was raining outside, and the clouds were dark and dense above us. We got soaking wet just waiting for the taxi. When we finally did reach the hospital Chase was waiting for us in the lobby.

I regard him now, from just across the room. His dark hair has been washed and combed, looking much better than a few hours ago. He leans against the wall with his hands in the pockets of a black hoodie that is left unzipped over a white t-shirt. The clothes he wore when he arrived were ruined from the second trial anyway. Even his arm is fine, probably healed himself. But despite how much he's cleaned up, his eyes are the same, and his face is still gaunt. He regards the people walking past with a wary gaze, like he doesn't feel comfortable among them.

"Chase!" I call, trying to get his attention. Immediately his head snaps up and he meets my gaze. Something changes in his face as he strides across the room towards us.

"Hey," he says softly, shouldering the backpack we left him. "I guess we're going back to the hotel?"

Anne nods, her curls bobbing up and down. "Yeah. It's about twenty minutes drive from here. Don't pass out on me, Kay?"

Chase snorts at that, but says nothing.

"Hey," I whisper, coming up behind him. "How are you?"

He shakes his head. "Not so hot right now. Physically I'll live though."

I don't push how he feels emotionally.

"Listen, I-" but he's gone, stepping after Anne and now too far away to hear me.

Later, in the cab, I notice him tapping his fingers on his knees in some kind of pattern, like he's playing a piano. From my place beside him I reach out to cover his hand with mine. But I see his face, distant and cold, and I draw my hand back, pretending to merely push my hair out of my face.

When we get to our hotel the rain is still coming down hard, the rhythm pausing as we drive under the awning in front of the double doors. I step out last, letting Chase go before me. He leans heavily against the door as he stands, and I see him limp a bit as we walk towards the doors. Wordlessly, I try to take his backpack from him, but he pulls away with a noise of dissent.

"It's fine," he tells me. "It's not like I'm a cripple or something."

I feel a flash of anger. "You don't have to do everything yourself, you know," I snap.

He shrugs me off and speeds up, passing Annalise and pushing through the doors. I stare after him sadly before coming up behind Anne and following her inside.

From there we take the elevator up to floor seven, silent as other passengers stop the ride to get on. There isn't much opportunity to talk, anyway, but it's enough that the silence feels empty.

Chase leans his head against the mirrored wall, closing his eyes tiredly. I guess overcasting makes you need a lot of sleep. Suddenly I feel the urge to reach out and touch his face, but I resist. Maybe he doesn't need me to protect him. Maybe he'd be better off without me there. What if this is his answer? Maybe he just won't respond, won't say anything at all. Is that his plan?

I exhale slowly, stepping forward as the elevator doors open. The three of us push past the crowd to step into an empty hallway. Our room is the fourth one on the left, identical to all the others. Anne pulls out the room card and slides it into the lock, waiting for it to flash a green light before opening it. Chase goes next and I bring up the rear, pulling the door shut behind me as I do.

The walls of the main room have coffee colored wallpaper and light brown carpeting. The lower half of the wall is wood paneled. On the opposite wall are two individual bedrooms with their own separate bathrooms attached. The main room contains a pullout couch, a stove, a fridge, and a TV. I thought that it was a pretty nice suite.

"So, Chase asks. "Where do I sleep?"

"The room on the left," Anne says. "I have the second one and Haven gets the couch."

I volunteered for the couch, actually. Chase just got out of the hospital and I need to stock up as many points with Anne as possible. I really don't want her to dislike me. Of course, I doubt giving her the good room will earn her eternal loyalty, but it doesn't hurt, and taking the couch won't kill me.

Chase nods, leaving us to go put his stuff in the room. I sigh, sinking into the couch and putting a hand over my face. I don't like this waiting. At least with the Clan we were pushing forward, moving towards a goal. Now everything has stopped. It's like a parody of normalcy. We're on vacation in England, just regular tourists, but there might be people trying to track us down, Chase's brother just died, and we are desperately waiting until we can leave.

"Anne?" I ask.

"What?"

"What exactly are the odds that one of Gabriel's men will actually find us?"

She snorts. "I don't know, probably one in five? Why does it matter?"

I bite my lip. "I don't know. I just want to leave England. It makes me nervous."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, we all do. But we're leaving tomorrow, Wiltshire, at least. So. . ?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just saying that I don't like it."

Anne just shrugs. "As long as we don't wander around the city, I doubt that they'll find us. We're only going to go outside to make the trip to London. And we aren't even Flying, we're taking the train. Don't doubt my flying ability."

She looks genuinely insulted.

"You know what, ignore me, I don't know what I'm talking about," I tell her.

"Fine," she says, turning on the TV. But I'm still uneasy.

We spend the next few hours watching British television and eating sandwiches bought at a deli next door. Neither of us say anything about Chase locked in his room just a few feet from us. Other than giving him a plate of food, we haven't seen him since we got here. Anne doesn't seem too bothered by it, but all I can do is remember his scars and worry.

A while later we receive that call from Garret. He tells us that the compass pointed south west as they crossed the Atlantic, slowly moving to point East as they flew. Using constant speed, Garret has determined how far the island is from the shore. He says that Morgan and he will go on a series of mini-exhibitions over the ocean until they can make a pretty good guess as to where the island is. They think that it's further South than Virginia, but unfortunately that's all they'll be able to say for a while. Garret tells us to take a plane to DC tomorrow and that he'll let us know where to go from there. The conversation basically stops after that. Morgan asks how Chase is and we lie through our teeth as we tell her that he's doing okay. Then they wish us luck and hang up.

"Shouldn't we get the tickets now?" I ask.

"Way ahead of you," Anne tells me, already typing away on her phone.

I nod, watching over her shoulder as she buys them. "Ten o'clock? We'll have to wake up at six."

"Do you have a problem with that?" Anne asks.

"No, no problem." The sooner the better, actually. I want to get to America again.

I decide to take a shower after that, getting my backpack and stepping through Anne's room to get to her bathroom. Soap and complimentary bottles of shampoo and conditioner line the sides of the tub. I clear them out of the way, pulling the curtain aside and stepping in. The suite itself must've been expensive, considering the double bedrooms and separate bathrooms. I guess the Clan has sufficient funds with all of the members' contributions. We keep on getting plane tickets as well. I remember feeling bad about all the money they're spending on me. But suddenly money doesn't seem so important now. A lot of things have changed, I guess.

I linger under the water for a while, drawing it out longer and longer. Eventually I am forced to get out, turning off the water and dressing slowly. I towel off my hair before gathering my things and leaving the room.

Anne is waiting when I get back. "Hey, took you long enough." She tells me. "I ordered food about forty-five minutes ago, so it should be here sometime soon. I'm going to take a shower. Please answer the door when it gets here, okay?"

"Sure," I agree, stepping to the side to let her past. The water starts running a second later, and I find myself alone. I take out Matthew's phone to check the time. It's eight o'clock. We might-

Suddenly there is a knock at the door, brisk and formal. "Room service!" Someone calls.

Immediately I remember the hotel room in West Virginia, the woman at the door, my mother shoving me into the closet, the ambush. . . I can see the other hotel in my mind, the blue walls and the pale light. For a moment I just freeze, all my muscles tensing up. No. Not her. Please, not my mom.

"Room service!" They call out again, snapping me out of my daze. Shaking it off, I cautiously walk over to the door, my heart still pounding. But what if it's them again? What will I do? Carefully, I peer through the tiny eye hole in the center of the door, trying to get a glimpse of the person on the other side. I step back with a relieved sigh. It's just a man with a cart of food. He's alone, too. It's okay.

I open the door with a relieved sigh, ushering him in. My mind is still racing during the exchange, and I don't truly calm down until after he leaves. That was so strange. I couldn't move for a whole five seconds, not at all. My complete lack of control appalls me.

As soon as I roll the cart in I start to prepare a plate for Chase, pushing the incident, and the memories that came with it, out of my mind. In fact, I try not to think at all as I transfer food from one platter to another. I should probably see how he's doing anyway. Every time I went to the door, Anne told me to sit down and let him deal with this his own way.

When I have the plate ready I step up to Chase's door, balancing it on one hand to knock. My palms start to sweat and I wipe them on my jeans one at a time. I shouldn't be nervous, I mean this is Chase we're talking about. But that's exactly why I am.

I hear something clatter against the floor, followed by a thump and a rustling noise. Then silence. I bite my lip, waiting.

After a second the door opens halfway and I see Chase's pale face on the other side of it. He frowns as I look past him into the shadowy room beyond, which is lit only by a desk lamp. The bed is unmade and a slice of light cuts across the carpet from behind the cracked bathroom door. Through the gap I can see a black backpack, spilled open on the floor. It's Matthew's.

"Hey," I greet carefully. "I brought you dinner."

He takes the tray wordlessly in one hand. "Thanks."

"May I come in?" I ask softly.

Slowly he nods, moving aside to let me in. I give him a small smile, watching him nudge the door shut and set the plate down in the bedside table. He steps in front of it, but I still see the plate from lunch, untouched. I feel my chest contract.

"You can come out and be with the rest of us, if you want to," I tell him.

He scoffs lightly. "No thanks. I'll stay where I am."

"You should eat, you know." My words are soft, sad.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," he snaps, angry.

I consider his darkened eyes, his hands set defensively in his pockets and the hood of his jacket pulled up to cover his face.

"What is it?" I ask quietly.

He turns away, the armor he dons stronger than steel.

"Tell me, Chase," I order. "What's wrong?"

He lets out a long breath before speaking.

"I killed my father, Haven. Gabriel killed my mother. And Samuel killed my brother. Sometimes, I think I might be cursed, you know? Everyone around me dies. Sometimes I just want to be normal, Haven. I wish that my family was a regular, human family, and that I had grown up like you did, away from the Gifted world completely!"

His breath hitches and he stops, running his fingers through his hair unsteadily.

"But that's not the point," I tell him, stepping closer. "Ignorance doesn't make you strong, it doesn't help the world. And wishing for it is a lost cause anyway."

"I wish I could die then," he spits, whirling around to face me.

"Dying won't help you! Dying is a way out, not a way forward. It's easy, it's simple, it doesn't require strength. Living is the part that's difficult. People who persevere through difficult times are strong, and that's the kind of person you are! You are strong, Chase! Is weak the kind of person you want to be? Billions of people counting on us, even if they don't know it yet. We all have to stay strong."

He looks at me, his face full of despair and frustration. "I'm trying, Haven, I'm trying. But I just. . . I'm so confused and I want. . ." He exhales in a rush, taking two rapid steps towards me. I back up, a little intimidated, my back hitting something solid as his lips come crashing down, hard. The contours of his body line up with mine as he reaches a hand up into my hair, the other one pushing against the wall to my right. He moves quickly, urgent, like I'll push him away at any second.

At first all I feel is surprise. We were talking and then. . . I didn't expect. . . But never mind that now. I move my hand to his neck, pulling him closer towards me as I close my eyes. My lips soften against his and I kiss back tenderly.

I feel my heart beating in my chest, and I'm sure that he can feel it too. His pulses right under my fingertips, quick enough to keep up. I move my hand up his neck to his jaw, sliding over smooth skin as I rise up to feel the soft, dark hair at his temple and beyond. It's getting too long; he probably needs a haircut, but I enjoy tangling my fingers in it, keeping his head locked where it is. I want him to stay here, with me. I want this moment to last.

He pulls away for a second, breathing hard. His irises are glittering with the little golden flecks, tiny pieces of gold that make everything else look dull in comparison.

"So pretty," I say, touching the side of his face as he pulls me back in with a hand on my waist. He runs his hands up my shoulders and down my arms, around my back and through my hair. Electricity lights up my nerves and butterflies fill up my stomach. I kiss him hard enough to bruise.

"Ch-chase," I manage to choke out between breaths. "Is this the right-"

"Shh," he says, putting a finger against my lips. "Do you want me to stop?"

I grip the back of his shirt in my fist.

"Then please," he begs, eyes desperate as he hooks his fingers behind my ears, leaving his thumbs on my cheekbones to tilt my head up towards him. "Let me be distracted."

I stand on my toes as he bows over to kiss me again. He trails a hand up my back and I sigh, long and deep, opening my mouth and parting my lips, letting myself be taken over by instinct. I feel light for the first time in a while, and I know that this is what I really wanted.

"Haven!" Annalise calls suddenly from the other room. "Where are you? The food's cold! You could've at least told me it arrived!"

My heart sinks, and the moment shatters. Chase pulls away. I let my eyes open, resenting Anne for the intrusion. It takes a second for me to let go of the kiss.

"I should go," I tell him. "Will you eat with us?"

He runs a hand through his hair, and I notice that the flecks are gone once again. "No, not tonight. I think I'm going to sleep now, actually."

I don't believe him, but don't push it, too flustered to worry about it. "Alright. I guess-"

"Haven?" Anne asks again.

"Goodnight!" I say quickly, turning and exiting the room to where the other girl is waiting for me.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Later I returned to his room, after we finished eating and Annalise went to bed. Dinner was awkward. I was pretty sure that Anne knew what I was doing with Chase, but she chose not to address it directly, instead dropping subtle hints that made me grit my teeth and hold my fork tighter. But I played along until she got tired and announced that she was going to her room. I let her go with no protest, grateful that she was leaving me alone.

As soon as Anne shut the door behind her I leapt up from the couch and tip toed over to Chase's room, peeking carefully inside. But I was too late, and he had already gone to sleep.

Alright! A whole chapter in basically one day! I am on fire! I hope you enjoyed this, and I hope it wasn't crap. As always, thanks for reading! Comments appreciated!

-iambibliophilic