It's way past midnight, but I still can't sleep. I don't even need to look in a mirror to know that I know have noticeable bags underneath my eyes.

Getting out of bed yet again, I walk over to the connecting door, not caring when my hip painfully brushes against the closest corner of my desk. Sucking in a breath, I quietly open the door to find... more darkness.

Sighing, I make my way over to the light swtich of my room and turn it on, squinting when my room suddenly brightens by a large amount. Shaking my head, I walk to the connecting doorway with the light to guide me. Since the door is open, the light from my room dimly brightens Fitz's room.

I swallow all of my emotions into my pit of dread as I make my way to Fitz's bed. Seeing Fitz lying there makes the lump in my throat come back up again, cutting my voice off. Instead of saying something, I silently place two of my fingers against his neck. I sigh in relief when I feel his pulse. I won't deny the fact that I first thought that I'd killed him when he collapsed.

My throat closes up again when I relive the moment where Fitz fell to the ground the first time. I can't help but shudder as I take my fingers away from Fitz. And when I asked if I did the same thing Mr. Wallace did, I first think to myself as I walk back to my room. "He used the last of his consciousness to nod before he collapsed again," I whisper, more and more regret dripping over every word.

Swallowing before a choked sob can leave my now trembling lips, I close the connecting door and walk back to my bed. I just sit there, blankly staring at the closed door in front of me, knowing full and well that beyond the door, someone's unconscious because of me.

And it hurts more when I realize that the person means more to me than I'm letting on.

I pull myself back into reality when I hear knocking on my door. Thinking that it's Mr. Wallace, I muster up whatever energy I have and make my way to my door. My eyes then widen when I'm greeted with Audrey and Laurel's faces instead of the grey haired, slightly wrinkled face of the adult I'm grown familiar with.

Audrey silently comes into my room as Laurel lingers in the hallway, sympathetically staring at me. "Why aren't you asleep?" she whispers.

But she and I both know the answer to that. I ask, "Why aren't you asleep?"

She presses her lips together as she also enters my room. "I think you know why," she whispers to me before walking to the middle of the room.

I close the door behind me and walk over to my bed, where I sit silently to stare at the connecting door again. I only glance up when Audrey asks, "What happened, Percipient?"

As Laurel glares at Audrey's inconsiderate tone, I say, "I did something to Fitz. He isn't waking up."

Audrey shakes her head, her eyebrows raised to their full peak. Then she sees my seriousness and asks, "Wait- you're serious?"

I merely nod, not trusting my voice. After clearing my throat several times, I say, "And he still hasn't...woken up yet." I refuse to say more in case all of the unspoken words come pouring out like a waterfall, but a rebellious tear says it for me.

I quickly notice it and flick it away with a sharp movement of my finger, but the benignant gazes I receive from both females tell me that they noticed the teardrop before I swiped it away. And their silence shows that they understand what I'm feeling, but not saying. I can't help but silently thank them for this.

As the female Altruistic and Sovereign come and sit at my left and right, Audrey asks, "Do you want to say what happened?"

I open my mouth, but close it, shaking me head in further refusal. They both nod understandingly. Laurel looks at me and says softly, "I can tell why it hurts more than it should." Usually, I'd react in some way that would unintentionally confirm it, but I only nod solemnly now. "But it wasn't your fault," Laurel adds.

At this, I jump up, frustrated at the last part. I let out a sarcastic laugh before I look down at the two of them. "Not my fault?" I repeat, my voice less choked up. "Of course it's my fault! I'm the one who did it without thinking of anything else, and now he looks like he's dead..!" It takes all of my willpower to not crumple to the floor in a sobbing mess.

Audrey looks like she wants to ask something, but Laurel shakes her head as if she knows what the question was before it was asked. Instead, Audrey asks, "Do you know how long he's been passed out?"

My eyes widen at the question. My frustration quickly morphs into the same worry I felt when he collapsed. I glance over at the digital alarm clock on the bedside nightstand. "1:58," I whisper to myself. I exhale sharply once I do the math mentally. Then out loud, I say, "Almost seven hours." I cringe guiltily when I hear Laurel's gasp.

Laurel then widens her eyes at my reaction. Holding her hands in front of her, she quickly says, "I didn't mean it like that! Don't worry-" The rest of her statement is drowned out by a yawn that Laurel unsuccessfully tried to stifle.

I smirk halfheartedly for her sake. "Go to sleep," I say as I gently usher them to the door. "I'm fine now, thanks to you." I glance over at Audrey and force myself to chuckle so I'll sell my lie. "I can feel your worry from here, Audrey. Don't worry. I'll talk to you guys tomorrow, alright?"

They nod and leave.

I then close the door behind them and walk back to my bed after I turn the lights off. I can't help but sniffle slightly as a tear runs down my cheek. I glance around, letting the lonely feeling of the darkness seep in. Another tear streams down my cheek as I stare forward, my eyes watering.

A sob finally comes out of me, and I hold my knees to my chest, another cry escaping me.

And in the darkness, with no one around, I finally become the sobbing mess I didn't want to be earlier.

...

"Sophie."

The sound of my name causes my dreamless sleep to fill with the memories of yesterday. Laurel and Audrey coming to my room, and me breaking down afterwards in tears.

And it's all because I rendered Fitz unconscious for who knows how long. What did I even do to make him like that..?

At the mere thought of him, my eyes pop open as I practically jump out of bed. Seeing Mr. Wallace stand at the side of my bed, I rub my face to clean off any remainders of the dried tear stains on my cheeks, hoping that he hasn't seen them. Shaking my head, I let my hands drop to my sides. I solemnly gaze up at the man. "How long has it been?"

"A little past twelve hours."

I look around him to see the time. Sure enough, it's 6:03, a bit over twelve hours. I swallow my guilt as I ask, "And he's still not awake?"

Silence answers my question for him.

"I- Is... is he dead..? Did I kill him?"

At this, Mr. Wallace shakes his head. "You didn't kill him, but if you want, you can check after you dress," he adds. "Wear something that you can move in easily."

"Why?" I ask blatantly as I climb out of bed. Sure, I still didn't trust him. But I was too "tired" to care. "Are we going somewhere?"

Mr. Wallace nods. "The warehouse."

I tense up, freezing in my spot. But then I remember Fitz- unconscious and sleeping as if he were dead.

Then I turn to the middle aged man. "I'll be ready in five."