"Why?" the question was sharp, blunt, and filled with hostility. As Scott frowned, his grip tightening around my hands, pulling me closer he had seemed to return to the robotic boy I was used to and his piercing glare, "Why would you suggest something as idiotic as that!?"

I don't know what I had expected from Scott Preston.

"I..." all my words muddled together, a sharp sting at the back of my eyes. I tried to pull my hands away, but he kept his grip, tightening around it and glaring at me. He had flipped like a switch, anger staring me down mere inches from me. Whatever had been between us seemed to disappear. Perhaps he had been so medicated he hadn't even known what he had said.

I didn't even know what I had said.

Was I too tired? Who knew what time it was at this point. It had been moronic to think he was different, moronic to think I was different. Moronic to even suggest something so idiotic as that. After all, what would he gain? What would I gain? This wasn't some realization, it was a delusion.

I began to cry.

Why? Perhaps I was tired. Perhaps I was an idiot. Perhaps old Scott was right about me all along. I shut my eyes, unable to stand the cold glare from him. Perhaps things were just supposed to be how they were.

"Stop," Scott said, his words sharp and angry. But I wouldn't stop, I couldn't stop. I felt as though when everything had started to make sense, it all unraveled. I squeezed my eyes closed harder, refusing to look at him as I knew that look he would have. Disapproval. He loathed me, he truly did. I could feel his hands pull me closer again, trying to get me to look at him through teary eyes, "Stop crying... P-Please..."

Please.

There was a softness to the word, and I couldn't remember too many occasions I had heard him say it either. For a brief moment, I paused. Had I heard him say it? My breaths were shaky, but something seemed to have changed again. With great hesitancy and fear of the boy I would face, I opened my eyes, wiping some tears on the shoulder of my shirt.

"Sorry..." my voice was shaky, my breathing shuddered. I couldn't even tell the emotion he was facing. His grip loosened, and instead of anger, concern was all that was plastered. He didn't seem angry, yet every bone in my body felt on edge in front of him, "I meant... with. With what you said... said earlier... I-"

"Stop," the way he said it was almost a whisper, kind, soft. Not angry. Not frustrated. Not impatient or annoyed. He had told me to stop many times before, but this just felt different. Everything felt different. I tried to grasp what could be going inside his head, scanning his eyes for something, anything at all. He held my hands up, and I realized now the close proximity between us, "You have nothing to apologize for... I should not have snapped at you. I don't want to see you cry. Please,"

"I..." I wanted to say something. At first, apologize. I always seemed to apologize, even when I knew it wasn't my fault. Often it was just easier, simpler, to just take the blame for things instead. But I knew he didn't want to hear that. He gave a very gentle shake of his head.

"You think with your heart, not your head," his words were once more linked with a sense of exhaustion. However, he gave a small smile, "It's admirable. You are passionate about things you care about. I wish I was the same. But please, do not try and be someone you are not around me,"

There was a silence in the air. I slowly processed what he had said, the tears slowly drying in the air as they plastered to my cheeks. My breathing began to even out once more as we sat once more, facing one another, hands intertwined.

"I just thought," I paused, looking for some confirmation to continue. Permission. I don't know why, but I didn't want to lose this version of Scott. I didn't want to feel as though I was stepping on eggshells around him anymore. I truly didn't want to have to pretend anymore, "I mean... if a Lower could, if Noah could, then... in theory... but I never thought..."

I found myself trailing off, thinking through it logically. Perhaps I had been in over my head. He was right, it was idiotic. It would never work, and even if it did, why would we risk our lives? For Jessie and Jake to be happy?

"Idiot," Scott snapped, however, his hands still gently held mine. He seemed to frown at his own insult, pausing for a moment as he shook his head, "I apologize... I suppose I worry because you seem to disregard everything that could kill you. I never meant to snap at you nor call you an idiot,"

"It was an idiotic idea," I stumbled over the words again, "You're right... I should have-"

"It's a nice idea, Rebecca," he cut me off again, taking a deep sigh as he slowly allowed the words to come out, "But you have to realize it can only stay that... an idea. If it became a reality we both know how it would end up. It was my fault for bringing it up in the first place,"

"But I asked the question," feelings of conflict, overwhelming emotions, and just plain exhaustion consumed every fiber. It was as if every sentence changed how Scott seemed to feel, or even who he was. A part of me found myself wishing for it all to return to normal.

"And I answered," he said simply, a small smile on his face. Gently, he pulled away a hand, tapping it lightly on the hospital bed cover, "Come sit,"

"Why?"

"It's 3 in the morning," he let out an exhausted sigh, letting go of my hands and shifting over to the other side of the bed, "Listen, we are both exhausted, tomorrow we can discuss this when we're rested and can think logically?"

"I'm fine... besides it's a small bed," I gave a small nervous laugh, red creeping onto my cheeks again, "You need rest,"

"As do you," he adjusted his glasses, giving me a small smile. With a sigh, I stood from my chair, a loud creaking sound following. I winced, quickly glancing around to make sure nobody heard, before hesitantly crawling onto the bed. It was soft, far more comfortable than I had expected. Scott shifted over to the other side of the bed, allowing me to move beside him.

"If you'd prefer I am more than comfortable sleeping on the chair," Scott offered, watching me with intense curiosity. Laying down against the pillow, I was hit with instant relief to my neck, which must have been craned over as I slept. Staring up at him now, I shook my head.

"Jake made me sleep on the sofa, I wouldn't be any better to do the same to you. Besides, you're the one with the bandaged eye," I said, shifting over to allow him more room on the bed. With a matched hesitance, he lay beside me, turning to face me as he removed his glasses and rested them gently on the bedside table.

"It's already far nicer than sleeping beside Jessica," Scott said quietly, blinking slowly as he let out a sigh, "She was apparently quite offended that I did not show any physical affection,"

"Of course she did," I grumbled, rolling my eyes with a yawn. I turned over to face him, our faces close however a sense of calm between us, "You two really don't get along, do you?"

"She wants Jake," he said, "And I am not him. So if I do anything that he wouldn't it's considered wrong. She has all these expectations of me. The other day she began to lay out a set of rules,"

"Rules?" I couldn't help but smirk, exhaustion laying across me now, sleep slowly creeping in, "Like what?"

"Don't call her Jessica," he let out a small laugh, gently closing his eyes, "She wants me to call her Jessie. I must admit, I do call her Jessica to purposefully annoy her. That may be my fault but she's the one who-..."

He trailed off, opening his eyes again with a frown. He looked to me as if expecting an answer. However he shook his head, dismissing once more something to do with Jessie. Closing his eyes once more, he let out a sigh.

"If those two had not had relations before hand then maybe it would be different," he muttered with a sense of tiredness, "Or maybe not. I suppose we will never know,"

"I wonder if they were matched whether it would even work," I said, closing my eyes, brinking on the edge of sleep, "I guess it's too late now,"

"Maybe..."

There was a moment of silence, each simply allowing ourselves to be in the moment. There was once more a sense of security, belonging, as if simply being beside one another erased the fears of the world around us.

Before I long, I had begun to drift into sleep. Thoughts of the previous day intertwined in my mind, the strings of thoughts unravelling as I simply allowed myself to fall into sleep. Not focusing on this or that, but instead just glad that I finally had found someone who may have understood me.

I woke up to a sharp jab to my side. Groggily, with annoyance and slight confusion, I woke up. Scott stood beside the bed, staring down at me with broken glasses resting on his nose, his emotionless glare seeming to pierce me. It took me far longer than it should to recall the events of last night.

Yet I still found myself questioning what exactly happened.

"They said I could leave," Scott said bluntly, his clear lack of compassion making my heart sink. Maybe he truly had been too tired, maybe this was who Scott truly was. Had I just dreamt it? He let out a frustrated sigh, "They made me wake you up. I will see you at work. Goodbye,"

He gave a brief nod, before turning and beginning to exit the room. I scrunched my nose from the harsh smell of disinfectant and scrambled from the small hospital bed, throwing the sheets to the side carelessly as I tried to catch up to him. Already my head was pounding from a headache and I wanted to do anything but chase around Scott Preston.

"Where are you going?" I asked, matching his brisk pace in a corridor, trying to find anything of the boy I had spoken to. But his face remained blank, if not for a slight scowl. He ignored me, keeping his gaze forward. I asked again "Scott?"

"I heard you," he snapped, giving me a short glance before turning a corner, "Where I go is none of your business,"

He brushed past two doctors who were rushing past us, yelling something about an accident. I ignored them, trying to keep pace as he began to walk into the waiting room towards the doors. My heart was racing, confusion and concern mixing with dread. It seems he was at least feeling better as he had returned to his typical stoic self.

I hesitated for a moment as I heard the receptionist talking to one of the nurses, something about two newly matched sharing a bed. My cheeks were hit with a deep blush as I tried to avoid eye contact. Were they talking about us? How might they have reacted if they knew we weren't matches at all? I shook my head, moving through the open doors which Scott had just passed through. He was already making his way down the street, the early morning sun casting down heavy rays despite the cool breeze.

"Scott," I said, trying to catch his attention. He was still ahead of me, and as I tried to keep pace he would move faster. Confused and tired, I called again, "Scott!"

"What?" he turned around, causing me to abruptly stop. There was an edge of silence, his arms crossed as he glared at me, waiting for an answer. But I didn't know what to say. What could I say? He continued, "What do you want?"

"You can't just... just do this!" I stammered, empty streets making his gaze even more terrifying. It was us, an empty road and the early sun still rising. His face was blank, causing my mind to scramble, "You can't just pretend that whatever happened last night didn't happen? You can't just go back to being so... so cut off. You can't just pretend to be okay when you're not. You can't just... go back to being someone else. You can't just leave like that!"

I didn't mean to get so angry, so worked up, so upset. But I did. He looked at me for a long while. Not moving, simply staring at me, scrutinizing every inch of my face as I was so used to. His remaining eye seemed to be so confused, so lost, it almost was though he couldn't understand what I had said. But I stood there. I couldn't just let go. I needed to grasp onto this feeling, this new sense of purpose. I needed to follow it even if it could be my downfall.

Who would I be if I just gave up now? If I became just another name in the system. Rebecca Aria alongside 15 billion other people in this world. Another issue, another number.

Who would I be if I didn't at least die trying?

"Rebecca," his voice was softer now, but there was a hesitation, a deep sense of guilt entangled in that voice. He shook his head, taking a step closer and trying to figure out what I was thinking, "Tell me, would you ever honestly switch with Jessica?"

"Yes," he seemed slightly taken aback by this. I didn't expect to answer so quickly, I didn't expect to be so confident in the answer. But I couldn't let it go, couldn't forget that feeling, "But I get it, it's dangerous and idiotic and-and useless but-"

"Stop," he whispered, his voice hardly ausible. With careful purpose, staring deeply at me, he shook his head, frowning. He spoke slightly louder, but only so I would be able to hear, "You answered my question, no need to elaborate. But are you sure you're thinking properly about this? This isn't something that you can just agree to, you need to think... really think... are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said, swallowing the lump which crept in the back of my throat, tears stinging at the backs of my eyes, "But what about you? Are you sure?"

"I don't believe I would have suggested it if I wasn't sure," he gave a small smile, his gaze seeming to return to the boy I had spoken to last night. Relief swept over me, a smile now matching, "But you're serious about this? Because it is possible... it's more than theoretically possible, it's been proven. And if anybody were to do it, we have resources. We also have a man who we know has broken the system once... and we have his daughter, we have everything..."

"So it's... actually happening," I said, each moment causing my heart to beat harder and harder, "Jessie and I will switch places..."

"I suppose it is,"