A/N: This was a really hard chapter for me to write, had to dig deep into every feeling I had of pain and right them down. R&R, I'm begging you.

Somewhere Above The Pacific Ocean- June 18th, 8:30 AM

The plane had begun to lift off the ground. The sensation of dread hung over a certain 3 of its passengers. The 3 who wouldn't give up. The 3 who wouldn't lose hope. The 3 who would probably be permanently expelled from their boarding school when the trip finished. The ones who people believed were acting on false hope. But they wouldn't give up.

They couldn't.

Adena's face was pressed against the airplane's window. The vibrations and shaking not even fazing her. She couldn't feel it, she was numb all over. Completely immune to anything physical. Her emotions were in utter turmoil; they tossed and churned inside of her. She wanted to vomit. There was a strong burning sensation in her throat. She wanted to scream. Her eyes read hopelessness; she was trying hard not to lose hope. She wanted to cry.

Squib looked strangely calm and composed, and he knew it. He was doing it on purpose. For Cody's and Adena's sake, they looked destroyed.

Broken.

And he hated to admit it but he felt broken too. There was a mixture of guilt, anger and hate stirring in his brain. Today was the day of the funeral, he felt guilty for not going. What kind of person doesn't attend their best friend's funeral?

A hopeful one?

He was angry that his friends weren't here. He was angry that he was fussing over them. Angry at them for dying, without giving him so much as a warning. No, no, no, they weren't dead. He hated himself for even considering that they were dead. They were still out there, as far as he was concerned. And he loathed the people who were calling him and the two girls crazy or confused for trying to find them. He had to have hope.

Because that was all he had to hang on too.

Hope.

And then there was Cody. Her red hair tangled and matted. She had on the same pair of jeans she had been wearing for the past 3 days. She wasn't sure what was happening to her. Her fingers were developing the annoying habit of drumming. They drummed whenever they touch a flat surface.

It was annoying.

And when she wasn't drumming she was biting her nails. Something she hadn't done since her dog died 5 years ago. It was her body's way of distracting her mind from going back to them. Because she feared that if she thought about them she'd loose hope in ever finding them.

Alive.

She wished her mind would just stop working. It kept going back to them, kept going back to the stupid tennis ball hitting the ground. 'Megan and Sebastien were among the passengers on the plane' No they hadn't, she wanted to scream. They had to be alive.

They just had too.

She just wanted to collapse, the emotional pain corrupting her mind and body. Cody was beginning to wonder which was worse. Emotional pain? Or physical pain? She purposely stubbed her toe into the seat in front of her. She let out a quiet yelp. 'Ouch.', she thought. So far she'd pick physical pain without any hesitation. And then there was that sickening feeling in her stomach again. The feeling of not knowing.

Not knowing whether or not her friend were in fact alive.

Suddenly her thoughts grew dark and her mouth went dry. So what if they were right? Where the hell were Megan and Sebastien? Did they just expect to land in Hamstead and see Megan and Sebastien's grinning faces waiting for them at the airport? She honestly hadn't given this much thought. She turned her head slightly to face Squib. His expression terrified her, she knew he was in a state of utter shock and confusion. His fingers clenched around the front of his armrests. His knuckles turning white. And for a second she believed he'd shatter the pieces of plastic. And then she looked at Adena. The look on that girl's face made Cody want to sob.

She looked broken.

Broken like the china doll her grandmother had told her not to touch, broken like when Cody took it from its place. Broken like when it hit the floor from accidentally slipping out of the redhead's hands. The pieces of the doll's face scattered all over the mahogany floor.

Broken.

She realized she felt the same way. As if someone had reached deep into her chest, wiggled it hand around and pluck a piece of her heart out. She snorted at the idea.

She was going insane.

The snort startled Adena to the bone and she glowered dangerously at Cody who slunk back into her chair. What the hell was there to snort about? And the two girls were silent, tension rising. But the sound of crying broke the staring contest. She whipped her head farther to the right only to see Squib breaking down.

Broken.

Cascadia- June 18th, 11:30 AM

The morning was grim and Charles Bates bolted upright from his bed and straight to his closet, fumbling through his clothes. He was trying to find something black. And he was late; he should've been up an hour ago. He found what he need, dressed, cleaned him up and without further thought he darted out of his house.

He slowed down as he reached his students and Coach Gunnerson, he tried to force out a smile but it ended up looking like a messed up frown. He bowed his head in remorse, trying to collect his bearings. Trying to get prepared for the ahead.

The funeral.

His students watched him with such an intense look of loss in their eyes he wanted to scream. Want to scream, "I don't know what the hell to do, so stop staring at before I shove a tennis ball up your ass." He stood shell-shocked that he could even think of such a thing.

He took a deep breath and opened his car door, ushering two of his students and the coach behind him. He saw from the corner of his eye the short, young, blonde, Romanian girl. He knew her so well, yet today, in her black knee-length dress she looked like a complete stranger. And his heart sank, because he knew she'd never be the same girl that she used to be. Her big blue eyes were puffy and red from crying. The usual I-don't-give-a-fuck-about-you-or-this-school-because-I'm-so-perfect-and-of-course-better-than-you aroma was gone. He knew perfectly well this incident would change her forever.

Hell, she looked broken.

He swallowed hard as he heard his engine roar. He bit the side of his cheek knowing this was going to be a very painful day indeed. He snuck a look at Coach Gunnerson who was slumped limply in the passenger's seat. His face looked dim and weary. His usual harsh face had faded and wrinkles surrounded the ends of his eyes. Those pools of dark brown, his eyes, in his eyes alone Bates could see sadness. And it hurt him bad to see it. And he knew it,

Gunns was broken.

Mournfully he checked his rearview mirror and saw Rick. And Charles shook his face in disbelief, the boy wasn't smiling and he had lost the twinkle in his eyes. He did however have a tennis ball with a slit for a mouth, eyes drawn by a permanent marker sitting in his lap. It took a while to see that the fuzzy green thing had drawn-on tears. He took another look at the black haired boy and sighed, half-expecting the boy to ask what was wrong. But Geddes didn't so much as flinch. The regular old kiss-Mr.-Bates-ass had been sucked out of him and all that was left was a 15 year old.

A broken 15 year old.

And it took Bates a moment to realize it.

He was broken too.

A/N: It was short, so I'll make this part one of a two part chapter. And no you were not seeing things, that was Mr. Bates POV. And no, I have not gone crazy.