A/N: We're back to daily chapters, let's hope I can keep this up! I'll try and keep consistent, especially since we could also use a distraction from the chaos in the world right now. But please keep in mind that I may miss a few days, but I will try and keep a consistent schedule.

---

A deep growl of thunder filtered through the building, a rumble which seemed to carry on further and further until I wondered if it was going to stop at all. Whether the storm itself would be endless, forever growing, and changing, but remaining the darkness, swallowing the world entirely.

As the thunder gently faded, Evan's yelling became clearer, cursing I hardly even knew being called crisply from behind the thin door. For a few seconds, there would be a pause, the other man on the other end likely trying to calm him down, before Evan would begin his tirade once more.

I stood on my tiptoes for a moment, closing my eyes as I softly kissed Scott's forehead. In a sense, it was although the roles had been reversed. I felt this urge to protect him, a deep desire to cherish him. As if he were something which could be broken with the slightest glance.

My hand slowly dropped from his cheek as I moved back, carefully standing back on the ground before I wrapped my hands around him. I rested my head on his shoulder, holding him, afraid that he could truly disappear any moment.

I hadn't even noticed the yelling had stopped, too caught up in worry, resting so delicately against him as he did the same. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer into the embrace. His hair was still wet, brushing against my cheek.

The back door swung open, and I jumped, quickly moving away from Scott in a panic. Evan, luckily, hadn't seen this exchange, although looking to Scott he seemed to be lightly blushing, a small smile as he adjusted his glasses.

There wasn't exactly anything wrong with hugging someone. But I couldn't be sure, couldn't risk what Evan might think and assume even though I wasn't quite sure myself what it was. However, he hadn't even seen, glaring down at his phone which he held so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"I swear I'll skin that man," Evan scowled, starting to pace the room, kicking a chair to he side as it fell to the ground, meeting the fate of the other. I jumped as he kicked another one so hard it went careening against a table, one of the computers on the table swaying precariously, before settling. Evan continued as if he hadn't just ruined yet another computer, "This is exactly why I needed him to-"

"What happened?" I asked, already regretting my decision to do so. I shouldn't have asked, shouldn't have gotten involved, should have just allowed him to let off some steam and kick some chairs around until he calmed down. He looked up at me, glaring, almost surprised to see me standing there. There was another flash of lightning.

"I paid his fucking asshole Dave a good chunk of credits to get the backup generators fixed," he began, throwing himself into one of the chairs which had remained upright, before he began to tap his foot impatiently against the bleak cement flooring, "He said he would have them fixed yesterday! All he had to say was not to rush him! Can you fucking believe it?!"

"He wasn't here yesterday," Scott said blankly, and Evan shook his head, anger boiling behind those judgemental eyes. I wondered how true what Scott said was, considering neither of us had actually been here for very long.

However, given the fact that we had been thrown into complete darkness, it was a safe guess to assume he didn't. Scott adjusted his glasses, and every time I looked at him I found my heart racing, just wanting to sit and talk with him and be anywhere but here.

"No shit Sherlock," Evan spat, standing up from the chair, and in the process, kicking it to the floor, swearing loudly as he ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. The phrase confused me, but as I turned to Scott, he seemed equally confused at what he had said. As Evan looked up to us, he furrowed his brow, "Sherlock? Sherlock Holmes and John Watson? Great detective books by Arthur Conan Doyle?"

A silence drifted around the room as if it were smoke from a fireplace, only broken by another rumble of thunder, a bright flash shortly followed by a crash. I didn't recognize the book title, and given that I had read a large number of detective books, I was surprised I hadn't heard of it.

But the way he seemed to speak about it, it had to be well known. It had to be popular in some regard, any regard. Yet I had never heard of 'Sherlock Holmes' nor a 'John Watson' of any kind. Although Evan wasn't exactly the most reliable source, it seemed to be something which was missing completely.

"Really?" Evan held a face of disbelief, almost fury once more. I was worried that he was angry at me for not knowing the book. Was I supposed to? He shook his head, letting out a tired drawn out sigh, "You're joking. That was my- you know what? Forget it. I don't know what else I expected from this piece of shit world."

"What was it about?" I asked quietly, curious now at this famous book that seemed to be completely unknown. He paused for a moment, looking to be as if he was so eager to. An excitement of a child, utter glee.

"It doesn't matter," his eyes shifted to that of exhaustion, shaking his head. Just like Scott, he seemed so tired, as if all good things had simply drained away, leaving nothing but worries. I didn't like the silence that followed, unsure if we were supposed to say something. Evan looked up at us, "Just go home, take the day off. There's not much we can do without computers anyway..."

- x -

At the train station, we were beyond lucky to find that a train had just pulled into the station, windows glowing brightly against the grey of the storm. There were only a few people on, and with rain bucketing down and thunder crashing close by, I was more than happy to take whatever shelter I could.

I was shivering, cold, and more than wanting to sit under a heater with blankets wrapped around me. As I sat down on one of the seats, I found myself feeling guilty, hoping that by the time someone came to sit there that it would be dried, considering I had just soaked it.

There were two other people in the carriage. One was a man who had his head buried in his smart tablet, the blue glow illuminating his aging features. The other was a woman, who seemed to be slightly intoxicated. I wondered what her job was, given the fact that she swayed from alcohol before it was even 11 am.

Both of them puzzled me, given that this train was coming from the opposing Lower City Region, the Northside. The Lower City region surrounded the city, some parts more strict than others. The Northside was notoriously dangerous as it was near all the factories and industrial buildings.

Her uniform made me question too. It could be casual, of course, but it didn't seem to be a wise choice given the current weather. A short skirt and busty top, covered in pink sequins. It didn't seem practical in any regard, and it seemed she was missing one of her shoes.

However, as the train rolled up to the next stop, she stood up, and I saw her pick her missing shoe up from the seat beside her. She seemed lost, almost panicked when she stood at the doorway. She was getting soaked, rain drenching her as she just stood there in confusion.

But then she left, and I could no longer see her in the darkness outside. The doors closed, silence lingering in the air before the train lurched forward again, another person living another life I had so many questions for. But I knew there was no point in wondering, as I would never receive an answer.

"Would you mind if we visited Charlie and Lillian?" Scott asked, his eyes hovering outside. He still seemed tired, but not so tired that I was afraid he might fall asleep. I furrowed my brow, pulling my soaking jacket around me despite its uselessness.

"Why?" I asked. Scott turned to me, and I found my breath caught for a moment. It was a strange feeling, being watched by him. It scared me, but simultaneously, there was something about his eyes that drew me in even more.

"I have a few questions to ask," he said carefully, shifting his glasses up on his nose. He mirrored my action of pulling his jacket around himself, shivering, "It won't take long. I can go alone if you would prefer not to get drenched,"

"I'll come," I said, beginning to wonder if the previous day had been a mistake. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so quick to judge, as now, Charlie at least seemed to have grown a deep distaste for him again. I couldn't be sure about Lillian, but there was no doubt he wouldn't be welcomed warmly.

Scott's gaze hovered on me for a moment, as if sensing there was an unease. But he dismissed it, returning to gaze out the window at the raging storm outside. I began to get nervous, hoping that I hadn't once more messed up everything.

I sunk back against the train seat, wishing for once that I had thought things through. That, just like I seemed to do every single time, didn't assume an entire person's reasoning. That I didn't take everything at face value, nor be suspicious of every minor thing.

I couldn't find a balance.

I needed to be cautious, suspicious, perhaps even paranoid, especially since it had already been shown how different people truly are. How people's motives lie further than just what they tell you. I couldn't just trust everything everyone said, nor believe that I was safe.

But I couldn't be like that to everyone. Living like that, with a deep fear that everything is a lie, isn't living. It would be stressful, not being able to find people who you can voice your opinion to. Although I always thought Charlie and Lillian were the only people I could trust, I couldn't live like that forever.

And I trusted Scott.

Perhaps that was a mistake. To trust him. Perhaps I was placing too much trust into someone I had known for two weeks. Perhaps, Jake, Jessie, and Scott were all in an elaborate scheme. Perhaps there was no fox group, no mystery, and all it would result in was the elimination of four people.

But at least it was a choice.

It wasn't a string of code to do this. It wasn't predetermined in my academic report that I would find trust in Scott. There wasn't any way to know if he even was on my side. But I chose to trust him. Because trusting him made me feel as though I was actually living.

For once, in such a long time, I felt as though I was alive.