A/N: So, this has been sitting on my computer since the finale. I couldn't help thinking that the last scene could have gone a bit differently.

Disclaimer: I own no part of Switched at Birth. I only take credit for this plot and any potential characters I myself may come up with.

A part of her couldn't believe she was actually going through with this. Whether it was the beer she'd just had with Zara or her craving for self-discovery, both she and her friend were miles from home. Home. She wondered what that even meant anymore. Her parents were always finding reasons to pick fights with her, never really satisfied with anything lately, at least when it came to her. As darkness fell, a subtle chill of night air spreading through her, her dad's anger ran loudly in her ears. Bay felt her throat go dry clearing it quietly as she shrunk back into the small collection of blankets in the back of her car.

In a way, this whole thing had been her fault. If she hadn't been so adamant about the blood test, she and everyone else involved wouldn't even be in this mess. Then again, she wasn't the one who insisted on a lawsuit. She wasn't sure if it was because of the domino effect that seemed to take interest in her family, inviting every possible crisis, but the fight, which to her seemed more than pointless, seemed to have no end to it. If Bay was being honest, any fight was drawn on forever these days. Or maybe that was just the case with her. Like bees to honey, Bay was the spotlight of any major disagreement. The last one they'd had, her father's words still ringing clearly in her head, made it all too clear that she wasn't exactly welcome at the moment, if at all. She was after all, the daughter they were stuck with. All because the hospital blindly handed two moms babies who didn't belong to them.

If that wasn't any incentive to start fresh, she wasn't sure when the next one would come. Good luck hadn't played well in her cards for a while now. So why not? She would be doing what she loved with no one to stop her and her family would be free of her. Even if they'd never said as much out loud, something told her that ever since the switch, people were seeing her in a completely different light. Maybe it was the fact that Regina and Angelo weren't exactly what you would call parents of the year. Maybe she was a bit of a rebellious brat and they were finally at their whit's end. Or perhaps it all boiled down to the stress that kept piling on all of them. Art was her outlet; her way of handling the curveball life had thrown her. Even as she ran through all the possibilities, Bay always fell back on the most obvious. She was the daughter they got stuck with.

"Well, guess they don't have to worry about that anymore, do they?" she thought to herself. She would be off to Cuba, or Mexico, or Spain (she really didn't care to remember) before they even had time to miss her. She'd decided to forget about the trail, it was no use to her anyway. This was her parents' fight to win or lose. Either way, it wouldn't do her any good. What would she do with dollars in Mexico? She sighed remembering what had happened to their passports a few hours back but then only shrugged. They would find a way, even if it wasn't exactly the most legal. Anything to keep from coming back to Kansas City. Anything to not have to be constantly reminded of just how much a mess her stubborn will had gotten her into.

Bay wasn't quite sure how long she struggled to find a comfortable enough position to catch a few hours of sleep, her mind reeling with all the opportunity she'd have to finally indulge in her art. A shallow gasp caught in her throat as a set of blinding headlights started in their direction. Cops she thought. Turning to shake her friend who had somehow managed to sleep despite the cold and the cars that whizzed past, she shot up, preparing to run at a split second's notice. As her eyes began to adjust, she took note of a familiar license plate, her fear now replaced by a shadow of anger as a scowl split across her face.

"Come to yell at me for something else?" she muttered. Hopping out, she stood leaning against her car, arms deliberately crossed as she stared her dad head on. As he started toward her, Bay felt her lip twitch for all of a second at the sight of Emmett's familiar calming face. Even if he wasn't at all calm, something about him just being there relaxed her for a minute. For thirty seconds she forgot she was angry at him as warmth ran through her. The minute of calm expression was quickly replaced with a questioning raise of her brow. Curiosity came to a crashing halt when she started getting slammed with questions. Questions she expected. At the same time rebellion played with her for a couple of minutes and she wondered if providing him answers was even worth it.

"I don't even know where to start," he said. "First you almost get yourself arrested and as if that wasn't enough now you're in the middle of nowhere planning a trip to Mexico? Have you completely lost your mind?" Bay only shrugged.

"Maybe," she provided shortly.

"How were you even planning to get there? You don't have any money. How did you expect to pay for gas? Was some fairy going to swoop down and fill you up when you finally ran out? Do you even have a passport?"

"Not anymore," she mumbled. John stared at her, a dozen new questions begging to spill from the fire already forming at the pit of his stomach. Now with the switch in place, he finally allowed himself to see just how different from them her daughter was. The paint he'd used to erase her so-called "art" was still drying on the wall of the car wash. Bay couldn't help but roll her eyes at his unmoving gaze. "We lost them, okay?" she offered exasperated, growing even angrier at the satisfaction she's sure her dad was about to feel.

"How exactly do you plan to go anywhere without one?" he asked pointedly.

"Get creative," she said nonchalantly. "It's in my blood, right?" Bay had to bite back the small flicker of satisfaction that washed over her when his look of disapproval only intensified.

"You, Bay Kenish, are not a criminal," John said dangerously. She only offered him a smile and slight shrug of her shoulders.

"Maybe I am and just never got the opportunity to try it out to its full potential."

"What does that mean?"

"You don't even know whose that was," she laughed, "and the first thing you do is wipe it clean because 'Oooooh, John Kenish, upstanding citizen has graffiti slathered all over his fine establishment', spewing every insult you know to make whoever it was that made it feel less for being expressive."

"Doesn't matter who it was, Bay, it was illegal!"

"So are a lot of things about this country and nobody has anything to say about that," she pointed out. Not that she was aiming to make this some kind of political debate but more a fact that her dad and most people just didn't see.

"It was me, Dad! Me. Your daughter. Your own fle—" Bay was quick to catch herself, realizing that the argument would do her no good. At least not that one. "It was me, okay? It's what I do. Art is who I am and that's my pallet. I chose the car wash with the hope that maybe…you'd finally, listen to me," she finished in a whisper.

"So you thought that getting my attention meant having to get yourself arrested?"

"I wasn't arrested," she said slowly. John rolled his eyes.

"The only thing that saved you was telling them that you were my daughter," he pointed out.

"I might as well have just told them the truth," she muttered.

"Excuse me?" he asked raising his brow.

"The truth," she repeated. "I'm not your daughter. I'm just the one you and Mom got stuck with because the nurse didn't get enough sleep and screwed up the delivery."

"Your mom and I were not stuck—"

"Really? What do you call this lawsuit then?"

"Compensation for—"

"You can say it," she said, waving a hand to encourage that he continue. "…damages," she finished for him. The fact that you couldn't be parents to the right daughter makes your entire life a mess now, doesn't it? So many secrets and lies and…It all just…piles on and everyone's so convinced that a few million dollars will make it all better. You chose money, I do art."

"That's not art, Bay. That's…"

"I'm a street artist, Dad. Graffiti is considered punishable by law. I know you don't get it, probably never will but it's exhilarating. There's something fresh about making the world your canvas. Anyone can see how you see the world. Maybe on the way to the store or going to a movie. Give them something to think about. But you don't have to get it. This is my thing and if going to Cuba's gonna let me do what I love then I guess…"

"You're not going to, Cuba," he said sternly.

"So, even being a so-called vandal has to be done right under your nose too?" she snapped. "I can do that. I'm really just looking out for you," she said bringing her tone down considerably. You don't need a criminal in the family and I don't know how else to keep doing what I do without running the risk." Feeling a light tap on her shoulder she turned to see Emmett, finally ready to throw his two cents in. In all the commotion with her dad, she'd completely forgotten he was even there. "What?" she asked keeping her edge, letting her eyes soften just enough for him to know that it wasn't him she was angry with. She was secretly grateful when her dad cautiously stepped back, eyes still trained on the two of them as he made his way back to the car.

Art is art he signed. You can still do what you love and stay out of jail at the same time.

I didn't go to jail! Emmett only smirked, heart offering a light flutter as he took in the fire in her eyes. It was times like these that made his night with Simone hurt all the more. Keeping his face free of expression, he only smiled, a subtle wave of wistfulness going through him.

So, what do you expect to happen next time you get yourself hauled off to the slammer? Fairies to come in and save your ass?

You make it sound like that's where I'm gonna end up tomorrow or something. He only shook his head, an opposing sadness in his eyes to her dad's earlier anger. She couldn't quite decide whether it was this he was upset about or their breaking up. Either way, his expression told her enough. Keep going. You had some kind of point?

Just because there's no street art doesn't mean that art stops he said. He heard you. You made your point. Whether he wants to accept it or not is up to him but he saw and he acted in the way a real dad should do.

Suffocate their kids? Now it was Emmett's turn to stare her down. That's honestly all they ever do. I need some kind of…escape. They act like the switch is all on them. They say they "understand" why I'm "acting out" but I can't help thinking that maybe somewhere in this lawsuit, they blame me.

They don't hate you, Bay.

How would you know? The doctors gave you to the right person. He shook his head. Well then what's your point?

I drank and I broke things to get some to listen to me. I'm losing all I know. Sure they haven't lived together a long time but, it's actually happening this time. And I have a choice. I can either decide to be with my mom who basically cages me in all the time or my dad and his girlfriend. Mom and Dad are so focused on "winning" and out doing each other that they forget that I'm somewhere in the middle trying to keep my head straight. My life's been turned upside down, Bay. Maybe not in the way that yours and Daphne's has but, it's not what it was. Bay only looked at him, his words not at all lost on her. Where he was going with this she could guess but she wasn't ready to be right, or provide him any answers of her own. He put me back in my cage because it was safer. I didn't like it and in my rage, I broke…He stopped, not brave enough to finish. They both knew what he was alluding to. Would be weird if I...? She shrugged, seeing not too much wrong with it. They were adult enough to be civil and she had a feeling he wasn't done lecturing her yet.

Sure.

"We should probably be there in time for the ver—" John silenced himself, walking hesitantly toward the two. Watching the exchange he felt himself go tense for a minute. Recalling the talk he and the young boy had on the road, he took a breath sighing awkwardly. "Oh well…Okay. I'll just…" he said. "Follow me, I guess?" They both nodded leaning against the car. Once he was out of earshot, Bay herself sighed.

I can't believe you came for me she said offering the weakest smile.

I will –always— come find you he said sincerely.

A/N: I know it's been a while since the finale aired but I couldn't help myself with this one. Review and let me know?