Because life hates me, my computer decided to be a major bitch and deleted the entire thing when I was halfway done with it, and pretty much every unfinished thing I had left in a Word Document. So you can pretty much say good-bye to me seemingly in a good mood or any upcoming stories for a while because it will take me forever to type and rewrite and plan again.

So if this chapter is shitty and all that, just remember I've been dragged through hell and really didn't want to rewrite the entire thing over again but did anyway.

October 24th 2013

Christine's Pov

I couldn't sleep. Or think, hardly. At 2am—instead of sleeping like a normal person should be, I spent a handful of hours pacing nervously in my room. It was too dark to confirm, but I was pretty sure I'd created a wear in a sloppy line from the corner of my bed to my door.

It's been days since the blow up with Chase at play rehearsal. Opening night was less than two months away, and everything was falling apart at the seams. A part of me would like to think that it was Tina that had screwed me over since the beginning (which, really, it had been), but the same part refused to leave Callan out of the equation. But how was he at fault? He was just another friend, like Rachel or Janelle or the other girls.

That same (stupid) part refused to let me wholly believe that, too.

I sighed in frustration, falling onto my bed with my angry stomach growling away into the night. My appetite had been suffering because of my jumbled emotions throughout the week, resulting in some bitter moods and distant behavior, especially in categories like eating habits. It was bad for several reasons, one being that had no one staying off my case like I very much wanted, but that Rem was starting to ask questions.

Now, usually any teenager would be annoyed at their parents asking questions and butting into their personal lives because it's just their generation's nature. But when Rem interrogated, it could be a bit frightening at times. Rem was one for giving advice because she usually pieced together the situation long before you decided to approach her with it.

But was my life really so complicated even my long-time friend couldn't figure it out when she knew me better than anyone?

I groaned, stuffing my face into my pillow after sparing an exhausted glance to the clock.

3am.

Bree's Pov

So much has happened. I could tell because of everything that's happened to me. Sometimes I hear voices, floating in and out of reach, just beyond my grasp. If so many feelings and worries and thoughts could swarm me, major happenings must be going on in the outside world—if I knew my friends at all, that it.

I couldn't remember much of what was before. Every time I tried, a pounding would start. It was odd whenever it was happened, but I'd completely lost all sense in direction, making everything fuzzy with up maybe being down and vice versa.

All sense of time left me, too, when I went under. However long ago that was. People—the voices I hear but couldn't put faces to—mutter about the time and how long I'd been out, but I couldn't survive the strain long enough to make out their sayings.

But from all the worry I could feel, it must've weeks. Months, possibly?

Either way, my suffering to remember or the suffocating blackness that I could never escape from wasn't the worst part. It was the crying and the worry and the emotion and the people and the life. It was so pulsing that it was nearly enough to charge me, but it like I was a gas tank that continually needed a charge, like I could never get filled again.

The voices—my baby brother out of all of them. Chase.

He was crying, too. The worst of all of them, I think.

Sobbing. Full, body-racking sobs that made me struggle and fight even more. Why would Chase cry over me unless he knew something bad could be arriving in the very near future? My baby brother was the smart, logical one—always finding reason to everything. Sure, I'd seen him panic and freak out plenty of times, but never once had he ever cried. Not in front of any one, anyway.

"Bree…" It pained me to hear him choke on my name. Something light descended on me from above; Chase must be smoothing my hair away or something. He used to do it when he was thirteen and I fourteen, suffering from a nightmare about the one day we would finally go on missions. Even then having the weight of the world on my shoulders terrified me. It still did.

Then, something amazing happened. Chase started to sing. I'd never heard him so soft and melodic before. It was nice, like a low lullaby. I couldn't place the song or comprehend the lyrics as well as I should've, but as I clung on to the way he sang the words, whispering away from me in a teasing wind, I knew it had to be one of my favorites.

My last thought before his voice completely lost me was faint even though no one was around to hear it but myself:

Christine should hear him sing too one day. I think she'd like it, too.

October 28th 2013

Christine's Pov

The girls and I were gathered up in Rachel's room. Trina had popped in earlier to donate some of her old magazine stacks to us; her manners had really spiked during the last couple weeks. Bree's absence was having an effect on her just like the rest of us.

Janelle and I were jammed together in Rachel's purple bean bag while Ashley and Sammie gossiped and whispered over a clump of magazine they took on the bed with them. Rachel sat at the foot of her bed with the vlog planner in hand. She'd gotten pretty serious over the vlogs. I couldn't blame her—the best thing for all of us was to go about our business, which was impossible because Bree was our business; practically. Besides, the channel had been slipping ever since Bree fell into coma, everyone too distracted to think of anything to post. I thought about doing a short, two minute news video to keep our 300-something suscribers at bay, but it didn't seem worth it.

"We need quick, fabulous costumes ideas. Halloween is three days away, ladies! We can't keep the people waiting forever; some people have lives to press play on." Rachel stood and started pacing. I watched her mildly.

I knew the real meaning behind Rachel's desperation. She got invited to the "wildest, most popular party" of the year and heard Adam would be there too, and needed some costume ideas and they had to be sexy and snappy.

Her words, not mine.

"Oh!" Sammie flew up, her raven ringlets flying up into the air as her manicured finger spastically pointed at a strutting Latina model posed a picture for a costume, practically naked. "What about this? We could do a DIY on an affordable remake of this outfit." Sammie held the article close to her chest, her gaze going off with eyes starting to sparkle distantly. "I have the perfect idea for a pair of red ruby shoes."

Ashley snatched the article away, looking down at it thoughtfully. "Hate to burst your bubble Sam," she said, "but, we aren't running a costume shop for sluts."

Sammie promptly stole her magazine back, rolled it up, and gave her a whack on the head. "Shut up. I figured the innocent Dorothy look was implied, idiot."

Rachel snapped her fingers, pointing at the bickering duo with a weird eyebrow and grin combo going on as she said, "you are absolutely right. If anything, the most desired look for teens on Halloween is a famous, quick outfit and I say we go for it!"

As the three had their little celebration, Janelle dug her socked toe into the colorful carpet, hugging a beaded throw pillow to her chest as she looked down, lost in thought.

I nudged her away from her train of thought; her there too long could be destructive.

"Whatcha think'n about?" I asked lightly, even though I wasn't sure if I wanted to know just yet.

"Death."

The entire room went to a standstill.

"Well," Ashley sucked in and let out a slow breath, exhaling from her nose. "That's one way to jump into the spirit of Halloween."

"I'm serious," Janelle insisted, finally looking up from the carpet. "What if something bad happens? Like, she really could be in really big trouble."

I felt my breath hitch. Ever since the incident, Janelle had been really distant on any discussions of the topic. I understood what she meant, the same thing being one of many fears as the days passed. But, Bree was a magnificent bionic being with powers even her creator didn't know the wonders too. With him, her other bionic siblings, and herself fighting this, I had no doubt that it would work out in the end.

When I voiced my thoughts, the girls nodded in agreement. "Chris is right," Rachel said while reclaiming her seat. "Bree's surrounded by the upmost modern and brilliant technology on the plant with one of the most well, hardworking billionaire scientist ever born. She'll be fine. The whole coma thing is just a bump in the road toward recovery."

"Wow," Ashley said after having grabbed an old Cosmo. "I never knew something so wise and non-fashion related could come out of her mouth; much less so much confidence in someone who isn't herself." She nodded, blonde hair bouncing in its messy low ponytail. "I'm impressed."

Rachel let out a snort/laugh, grabbing another throw pillow and tossing it at the blonde's head. "Oh shut up."

Soon enough Janelle and I were dragged into it and out of our (comfy) beanbag.

The rest is history.

October 31st 2013

By Halloween, things had begun to shift—again. Because of all the old magazines and sugar rushes from dozens of cans of soda, we'd managed to get two DIYs up on the channel by midnight and felt pretty damn proud of ourselves all the while.

Chase and I had shifted too. We'd gone back to not hating each other and left the fighting behind us—for now. But he still kept to himself more than he did before, especially during play rehearsals.

Despite everything the Halloween play practice had been a blast. The girls had forced me to wear a costume to school, even though doing that was completely optional—and really not looked into in high school. They pushed and shoved and squeezed me into a pirate costume with fishnet leggings, a short, short red and black striped dress with a (really pushing it) red, lacey corset. I let them tie my hair back with a black bandana but crossed the line when they tried to turn me into a zombie. That was just too over the top.

Luckily, I wasn't the only one dressed in a ridiculous costume. Gemma and Damon had cheekily come as the famous duo Batman and Robin. Ironically it was Gemma who was Batman, proving who really wore the pants of their friendship. (Not that I could say anyone was surprised.) Tina was dressed as a shorter, more troll-ish like Snooki—crazy, bumped up hair and slutty clothes and all.

"Look, the tramp keeps documents," Gemma noted, pointing to how Barbie had a poor unsuspecting extra character writing down his number on her hand, giggling like a deranged idiot that we knew her of being.

"Highly doubt it," I retorted, thinking of how Barbie would ditch her hourly boy toy soon. She was only using him for now, but she wasn't through with us yet—I could feel it deep in my gut.

Gemma suddenly shot up like a rocket, snapping her fingers and looking at me wide-eyed behind her mask. "What if she moves on to Adam? Or Leo?" she said hurriedly, snapping her fingers with every word. "Chase has already been affected by her—what will keep her from moving on to another target?"

I groaned nearly falling back out of my chair in the seating area. Gemma had a point—a huge point that we had missed during our entire battle/war/whatever all this hell was called.

"What's wrong, sailor? Seas not looking so great?"

Speak of the devil—and her horrible timing.

"Listen, Bitch," I began, getting out of my seat and straightening my dress. I stomped a combat boot as I stalked into her face. "You aren't getting away with anything. With every little plan you make, we're already two steps ahead of you."

I was totally bluffing, but she didn't need to know that.

She blinked at us innocently; Gemma had gotten up to join my side. "Speaking of which, how's little miss comatose doing?"

"Don't you dare talk about my sister!"

Chase stood behind us, looming at the edge of the stage with an anxious Damon behind him. He looked down at angrily from where we stood in front of the first row. His chest rose and fell angrily, his nostrils flaring. Oh no—I hope to god Spike hadn't sprung loose.

"What gives you the right to talk about the ill that way? You have no right!" Chase called down angrily. "Shut the hell up, Walters!"

"Don't worry," Tina said back cheerily, showing her devil horns. "Little miss speedster will be fine; she won't know what hit her at all." She said her last sentence quietly, all up in our faces right back.

I gaped as she walked away. No way could she know.

"What did she mean by that?" Gemma asked, puzzled.

I remained to stand there, stunned.

How could Barbie know about our bionics? About Bree's bionics?

Since I'm in a bittersweet mood with my sickness and all, I decided to throw in some drama and a cliffhanger, just for you. I planned on this just being a filler chapter, but it turned into something else. I truly had no idea where I was going with this, and my partner was just a road-blocked, so this was the result.

Review please, the next chapter might by engineered to come faster.