As he laid on the floor, his eyes wandered from person to person. He was searching their eyes for something over than blame and hate.

There was none.

That is until he looked over at Clear, now stood in the back corner, behind everyone else. When he set his eyes on her, he saw no hate nor blame. Instead she was looking at him with some kind of understanding....and of course fear. For just a moment, while their eyes remained locked on one another's, he didn't feel like such a freak.

Not too long after the explosion, the cops and FBI showed up wanting to interview them all. Alex knew straight away that they would be suspicious of him. No matter what he said or did, it would have the same result and they would reach the same conclusion. That they needed to investigate him.

So rather than holding back, he gave them the truth. Telling them absolutely everything about the dream. Just like everyone else who had gotten off the plane, they looked at him as though he was crazy. It was that exact moment that he knew his whole life would change.

It already had.

As he exited the interview room, Clear walked in. He began to wonder what she would say...if she would call him crazy and pin the blame on him like he knew everyone else would. Maybe she was just better at hiding it than they were.

He had absolutely no doubt that the others had expressed their suspicions about him, but for some reason that he couldn't quite understand, he felt as though her version of events might be a little different. He decided almost instantly that he needed to talk to her.

But when was the right time to talk?

He thought that it was far too soon and that she might feel like he was pressuring her but at the same time it was necessary. So he decided that he would try to catch her before all their parents were called. He had to know why she didn't look at him the way the rest of them had. He had to know that he wasn't crazy.

Watching as Clear exited the interview room, he planned to go over and talk to her. As soon as she took her seat, he took a slow walk over to where she was sat before taking a seat beside her.

"Hey...look, I know that you don't know me but I really need to talk to you." He said feeling stupid for not being more subtle.

Lucky for him, she didn't judge.

"Uh...okay. I guess, but....right now?" She asked and he nodded.

"Oh, alright. Let's just keep our voices low. I don't want anyone else to hear our conversation." She explained and then gave him the go ahead.

He took a deep breath, hoping that she wouldn't take it as a stupid question. Then he proceeded to get it all out.

"Do you hate me or...or blame me?" He asked straight up, once again kicking himself for lack of subtlety.

She shook her head the moment the words left his lips.

"No Alex. I don't hate you, and I don't blame you either." She answered him truthfully.

"But why not? It's clear that everyone else does." He questioned curiously.

Way too tired to explain fully, she gave him another simple answer.

"I felt it."

He frowned in confusion, not following what she meant by that. It was a vague answer and he couldn't blame her for it after everything they had been through.

"Felt what?"

"Whatever it is that you saw in your dream." She explained.

He was even more confused than he was before talking to her. It was impossible for her to know about the dream because he hadn't told anyone, not even Tod or George. He also felt slightly guilty at how relieved he was to hear her say that, because although what she was feeling must have been awful, it made him feel like less of a freak. Not so crazy.

But he was still confused.

How could she have felt his vision?

Suddenly an even darker feeling washed over him. For no reason that he could even begin to try and understand, he felt as though that morning was just the beginning of something much, much worse.

The beginning of the end. For all of them.