"We're... alive," Tony croaked and forced himself to sit up.

"For now," Abbie added tentatively. She had woken up about an hour prior and since refused to go back to sleep. In fact all of them had refused to sleep, now that the five of them were back together. Two days and counting, this was sadly the longest Lisha could brag of staying awake. Even when the band went to Chicago and everyone was drinking coffee up the wazoo, she managed to sleep amongst her sections' experimentations with trombones.

"Well aren't you a happy sunshine," she murmured and leaned her head into her shoulder to stifle a yawn.

"I'm always a happy sunshine," Abbie whispered, leaning back against Michael's chest. "It's my job."

"C'mon now," Ian wheezed into a thin laughter. "Don't tell me you forgot what she did to us last Halloween. If that doesn't scream happy sunshine, then what does?"

"I seriously hope that was sarcasm," Tony pointed out as Lisha and Michael both winced sharply. Abbie said it was supposed to be a joke. She stuffed a old guard T-shirt and pair of pants with straw and paper towels, then made a head out of an old pillow and strung it up to hang by its neck in the tuba room. She claimed not to have had time to write a complaint about how the guard was being worked to death, on the plaque hanging from it's neck before Michael and the old drum major, Warren, walked in and started screaming for the police and national guard.

Given Abbie's not so stable background on such things, no one in their group, especially Michael and Lisha, thought it was very funny.

Ian didn't say anything in response and just hung his head -- not unlike the dummy in the tuba room.

"So, what's the plan to get out of here?" Abbie asked quickly, changing the subject before they tried to make more derogatory subjects the center of their humor attempts.

"I'm," Michael yawned widely and blinked hard. "I'm working on it. I've got this...don't ...don't worry...we'll get out of here..."

"When was the last time you slept?" Lisha asked accusingly.

"When was the last time you slept?" Mike shot back.

Ian, Abbie, and Tony shared an unexplained look. "Have you guys been up this entire time?" Tony croaked and sat up straighter. Lisha knew it pained him, but he wasn't going to listen to her better judgement at a time like this -- well he didn't listen to better judgement in general. Sleep seemed to break his fever, but a layer of sweat still coated his forehead visibly in the dull light and something told her that he hadn't yet been through the worst of it.

"Maybe?" Michael asked and shrugged at Lisha who also shrugged.

"You guys need to stop being heroes and get some sleep," Abbie advised in a voice stronger than she had managed since they got in there.

"Yeah," Ian said. "Heroes are for comic books and the first people who die in zombie movies. This looks more like a zombie movie than a comic book so you guys should cool down the artificial coffee highs and get some rest before we go all commando and bust our way out of here. We can't have you guys drifting off while we three aren't really in the shape to do any sort of heavy lifting."

"But," Lisha started.

"Don't die on me! Don't die on me!" Abbie squealed in a high pitched mad scientist sort of way. Everyone laughed lightly for a brief moment. It felt good to laugh.

"You sure?" Lisha asked and blinked wearily.

"Don't worry about us. We'll watch out for each other," Tony cracked a small grin. "We'll try to think of an escape plan while you two are out."

Lisha didn't have time to say that it was her job to worry about them at the moment, before she leaned her head back against the wall and fell into a cold, dark abyss. Or you could call it sleep.

The last thing she heard was, "So what do we have to make a bomb with?"

"Well we have.....air?"

[] [] []

She didn't dream while she slept, at least, not anything memorable. Instead, she was haunted by voices. Memories of the past and memories of what she wished the past was.

Her mom.

You know, one day Lisha, boys won't seem so gross to you. This is just a faze, you know, everybody wants to experiment with who they are. You'll snap out of it eventually. This isn't how you are meant to be. You need to be careful. The world is full of manipulators who put bad ideas in your head. Those feelings aren't yours. It's so easy for the devil to put bad thoughts in your brain. You need to spend more time with Jesus. Do you read your Bible every night?

Her internal voice.

It's not like that. You can't tell me how to feel. I'm okay. I'm not worried. Why would I be.....why? It's just a faze. Maybe I'll tell Abbie tomorrow....she'll understand. She's my best friend. It's not like she overreacts in a suicidal way or anything. Right?

I can't blame myself for the the way other people feel. Everything is fine. It's nobody's fault. Things just happen, you know? Everyone's just going through some stuff. I just need to give it some time and everything will be the way it was. Just some time, and everything will be okay. It's nobody's fault. Life just happened.

That voice. The voice.

You know...if Ian hadn't insisted that you all go to Debbie's, none of you would be here. You'd all wake up in the morning with your normal problems. Unfinished homework. Sets to memorize. And lack of sleep from late night shows. It didn't have to be you five. It could have been anyone really. He just decided to make it easy for me.

No, Lisha turned in her sleep. It's not his fault. It's not anyone's fault.

Sure....the voice murmured hoarsely. Believe what you want. It only makes this all the more interesting.

It's not his fault.

Right?

Lisha awakened with a gasp. "Ian."

A/n Heeeeeeeyyyyy. So that whole thing with her overbearing Christian mom, I'm not trying to accuse anyone. I'm just trying to capture the reality of situations. (Me? Yeah. I know right?)

Why did Cerbal Fitz almost knock out Laura Santiago?

Give me your answers and I'll tell you in the next chapter.

#EgoChase