Mitch's pov

I stumbled along the path, the only noises in the quiet night was the scuffling of my feet, and my blood dropping on the stone.

I've kept my head down the entire way from the city. I look up, seeing the house, and limp a little quicker.

I've been gone all day, and it was nearly 10. I just played one round... just one tiny, harmless round. I never thought it would've gotten that bad...

At long last, I made it to the front door. I raised my fist weakly, and knocked. The door opens, and someone yelped. I look up, and see Rob at the door.

Darkness took over, and I collapsed, the last thing I hear is Rob yelping, "Mitch!"

No pov

Rob, Vikk, Jerome, Lachlan, Preston, and Mat stood in the living and kitchen. Preston paced through the living room, his lava feet leaving imprints on the floor. Jerome was lying on one of the couches, one of his furry arms covering his face.

"Preston, stop pacing! You're going to stain the floors with a lot of soot!" Rob yelled from the kitchen, where he, Vikk, Lachlan, and Mat were.

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm worried about Mitch!" Preston replied, a defensive tone in his voice.

"Why can't you be like Jerome? He's all nice and calm, right, Jerome?" Vikk asked.

Jerome sat up, then got off his couch. He looked at it, seeing his fur all over it.

"Um... sure! Just don't sit on this couch." He replied, scratching the back of his head.

Rob turned around from his seat to see the fur covered couch.

"Jerome!" Rob scolded.

"I'm sorry! I shed when I'm nervous or worried! And this time it just happens to be both." He replied sheepishly.

"You organic life forms are so confusing." Mat despaired.

Lachlan snickered, "Thanks mate! But back to the topic, Jerome, you said Mitch was only playing one game, right?"

Jerome sighed, "He did, I guess it must've taken him longer than he expected."

The group started chatting quietly, when a knock at the door interrupted them. Rob opened the door and yelped.

"Mitch!"

Jerome ran to the door, and got there just as Mitch collapsed. Jerome screamed, and ran to his room.

The others ran to the door, and gasped at Mitch's bloodied and bruised form.

Mat, the only one not totally in shock, picked Mitch up, and brought him to Mat's bed. He turned around, seeing the others standing at the doorway.

He walked over to the doorway, "Excuse me for a minute," and closed the door.

Twenty minutes later, Mat had came out of the room, his robotic hands covered in blood, and Mitch lying on his bed, bandaged.

"How's he going to be Mat?" Rob asked, taking a peek at Mitch over his robotic friend's shoulder.

Mat replied, his robotic voice as emotionless as ever. "He'll be fine, he just needs some rest. Like you guys normally would."

The group sighed in relief, but they were still tense, worried about their unconscious friend.

"Don't worry, since I can't sleep like you guys, I'll be up all night to watch him." Mat said.

They all walked off to their rooms, and Rob slept on the couch, preferably the one without Jerome's hair.

Everyone, except Mitch, woke up the next morning and sat in the living room, eating breakfast. Preston or Jerome had yet to say anything.

The t.v. was on, and playing some random channel Lachlan had put on, and suddenly changed.

"We apologize for the inconvenience, but this is breaking news. Yesterday, a 'Survival Games' had gone wrong. There was a malfunction during the games, where no-one had any regeneration. Everyone who had played in that game is presumed dead. If there was a survivor, they are most likely very wounded. We apologize to anyone who has lost a loved, and now it's back to your regularly scheduled program." The news caster ended.

Jerome wasn't paying attention to the screen anymore, he looked at the hallway. Vikk noticed this, and looked where he was looking. Soon everyone else had joined in, seeing Mitch stand and the entry to the hallway.

He was pale, and bandage wrapped around his head, and his eyes showed mixed emotions: terror, anger, sadness, and most of all: shame. He looked down at his hands.

"Mitch, what happened in there, biggums?" Jerome asked Mitch, concern gleaming in his eyes.

"I'd rather not talk about it." Mitch replied softly, looking up.

"Are you sure? I've heard that if you tell others-" Rob began.

"I said that I'd rather not!" Mitch snapped, and limped to the kitchen.

Time skip: One week later

Even though it had been a week ago, the Survival Games still affected Mitch and Preston. Preston still hadn't talked, and Mitch refused to talk to anyone about it.

Now, the Pack's house was empty, save for Mitch and Mat. The two sat at the table in the dining room

"Mat, can I tell you something.. uh... personal? It's about last week." Mitch asked nervously.

"Sure, what about it?" Mat replied.

"I'm just going to be completely honest, and tell you about what happened, okay? To be honest, I was terrified once I learned it was malfunctioning, even though I had figured it out myself. It was when I was fighting someone, and they did some damage, but not that much. Then... I realized I wasn't regening, and there weren't any spectators..."

Mitch took a deep preath, and put his head on the table. Before he could continue, the front door swung open, and Rob walked in, carrying grocery bags.

"Hey guys," He greeted cautiously. "What's up?"

Mat seemed to frown, "Isn't that the sky?" He asked, confused.

Mitch and Rob chuckled, "It's a metaphor, Mat." Rob said.

"Really? Then it has been a while since I've heard any metaphors." Mat replied.

Mitch smiled, and helped Rob put away the groceries.

I could always tell Mat another day, Mitch decided. Maybe when I can actually handle it myself.