Kurt woke up to the rather annoying beeping of the alarm clock. When he turned on his bed, eyes opening slowly, he realized something; he did not have it in him to wake up.

  Seriously, who had had the idea of waking up so soon? Did they not deserve some extra sleep after what had happened just last night? He sure as hell did. Plus, they had only checked in their current resting quarters (A rather crummy road-side motel) less than eight hours ago, and that had been after a couple hours of driving.

  He really didn't want to wake up so, like any teenager in his position, he simply picked up his pillow, covered his ears with it, and turned away from the alarm and towards....

  His empty bed.

  Now he woke up, all drowsiness gone, and he scanned the group's shared room. It was a rather small, simple thing: Two beds, separated by a nighstand, an old TV on the opposite wall, and the door to the bathroom on the end of the room opposite to the entry.

  There was no one there, only him. Getting tenser by the moment, Kurt hopped off the bed, turning off the alarm, and walked up to the bathroom. He opened the door and, again, no one there. The only sound receiving him was the constant, one-drop-at-a-time, dripping coming from the shower. The same shower he had used just a few hours prior to wash of the (Quite abundant) grime and dirt he had been covered in when they had checked in.

  It... had taken some liberal use of glamour to keep the clerk from questioning that. Or why three minors were checking in a motel at two o'clock in the morning.

  Closing the bathroom's door, Kurt turned to the two beds the group had slept on (One for Conrad, the other one shared by Kurt and Mila.), and the bags containing their clothing that were resting on their feet. Evrything seemed just as he remembered from last night, no signs of struggle.

  Trying to milk as much relief from this fact as he could, Kurt made his way towards the room's door. He knew, on a purely logical level, that he was overreacting, that Conrad and Mila had probably just gone out for a moment while he slept, likely getting breakfast or something, and he repeated this to himself as hee, too, made his way out of the room, closing the door behind himself.

  It did nothing to soothe him, though. And how could it, really? After the ordeal the group had gone through less than twelve hours before? He was on edge. Sure, he felt physically rested after taking a shower and getting a few hours of sleep, but his mind was still filled with the full horror of the 'Wyldfae Incident'. Conrad almost died. Mila almost died. He had almost died.

  Mrs. Matthers had died, no almost, right before him.

  Their room was located on the first plant of the motel, which meant that, when he leaned over the handrail, he had a priviledged view of the parking lot, a view he took advantage of on his search for his companions. Nothing.

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  He knew he was being paranoid. He did. But his heart did not, and so it began pumping faster and faster. Neither did his lungs, and his breath grew shallower and quicker. Feeling on the verge of a heart attack, Kurt raced towards the stairs.

  Where the hell where they? Where had they gone? And why didn't they just leave anote for him or something?

  Maybe they couldn't, Came a treacherous thought. No signs of struggle doesn't really men much, really. What if someone just attacked them while they where outside the room? Maybe Ruth changed her mind about letting us go, or maybe...

  "Kurt?"

  The boy turned towards the feminine voice, which had come from the bottom of the stairs, and found Mila and Conrad staring at him, looking worried, and carrying a couple of small plastic bags.

  Or maybe they really had gone out to get some breakfast, and I'm nothing but an idiot.

  Suddenly, Kurt grew very aware of just how he looked like now; A guy wearing a loose pajama, racing down stairs barefoot, and with must have been a panicked look on his face. In other words, like an overgrown child, running from some imaginary under-the-bed monster. Or towards his two equally imaginarily dissapeared friends.

  "Are you okay, man?" Asked Conrad, making his way up the stairs, followed by Mila.

  "I... woke up and... didn't see you, so I kinda..." He trailed off, shame and embarrasment clogging his mouth. Pushing through with a frustrated sigh, he managed to finish his sentence. "I panicked."

  There it was. He had said it and, predictably, it just made him feel even more embarrased than he already was. What the hell was up with him? Getting all panicky because his friends weren't there when he had waken up, or because Conrad had made a somewhat dark joke. The events back in that town had really screwed him up, hadn't they? Everything that had happened there, since watching Mrs.Matthers die to his fight against Ruth, and going through... what he had done in that sorceress' lair...

  He began feeling weak again, a wave of fear and sadness threatening to wash over him, and this made him feel even more ashamed. He couldn't be acting like this. He just couldn't! He was supposed to be the muscle of this group, the one that protected them, and he had already failed on that task once. Was he really going to let it all screw with him? To ruin his focus and make him fail even more? To force Conrad and Mila to baby him because he couldn't cope with the same crap they had gone through?!

  No. He would not be weak enough for any of that to happen. He was stronger than that. He...

  He suddenly found it very hard to breath. Standing up too. His knees were trembling like a baby deer's.

  "Kurt! Are you okay?!" Called Mila, hugging one side of his body so she could support him. Her voice came distant to his ears, which were almost deafened by his own bloodflow. "It's okay! Everything's fine, we're here! Just breath deeply, okay?"

  "Let's get him back to the room." said Conrad. He tried, and failed, to say something in response, and before he knew it, Conrad had moved to his other side, letting Kurt lean on him, and they began making their way towards their shared room.

  By the time Kurt managed to stabilize his breath, he was lying down on his and Mila's bed, looking at the ceiling. Mila was lying at his side, her fingers softly scratching the top of his head, making circles on his dark hair, her other arm brought around his midsection.

  "I don't understand what's happening." Kurt finally said. "I was fine last night. Tired, sure, but not like... this. I didn't even have trouble going to sleep."

  "That's 'cause you were extremely tired, and because you hadn't quite processed what had happened yet." said Conrad from his bed. "I'm honestly surprised you guys managed to get a full night's sleep, all things considered."

  "I'll be fine." said Kurt, sounding insencere even to himself. "I'm just... very stressed out, that's all. I just need some time to breathe and get my bearings, and I'll be back to normal."

  He half-expected them to call him on his bullshit, because he was sure they hadn't believed him. He wouldn't have believed himself. But they did not, surprisingly. But they did not agree either, and so the room fell in an uncomfortable, tense silence. Even Mila stopped embracing him, and got off the bed.

  "We should go back to the order."

  Kurt sat up straight, and turned to Mila. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed defensively, and her gaze was set on Conrad.

  "What?!" He exclaimed, all but jumoing off his bed. "What do you mean?"

  "I meant what I said." She answered firmly. "This entire thing was meant to be about locating the Aura. Well, we now know where it is, so we don't need to keep going. We can just go back, report to Mr. Anderson, and be done with it."