Haven's eyes snapped open, her breath catching in her throat. She was frozen, her muscles unwilling to move save for the fluttering up and down of her chest. Blind panic fought with Haven's senses, struggling to overtake them. She couldn't see anything – it was night. Something was wrapped around her arms and legs, tangling with them – a blanket. Lingering memories of pain seared her arm and back, and Haven almost missed its absence. Without it to anchor her she was adrift – disoriented. She could hear the sounds of her sleeping pokemon on either side of her, cocooning her. She was safe. She was in a bed. It was just a dream. Haven forced a deep, shaking breath. Finally, her arm moved. It was a hesitant motion. Then her other arm. Slowly, tentatively, she brought her hands to her face. They were clammy, hot and slick with sweat like the rest of her body. Her cheeks were wet. Another breath. Haven lay there in the dark, quivering like leaves in a storm. She was safe. She was in a bed. It was just a dream. Haven couldn't even remember the dream. Just flashes of white and red, terror like venom in her blood, poisoning her. Just a dream. She dropped her arms to her sides on top of the blanket. Familiar vines found her left hand and began curling around it, twining with her fingers. Haven tightened her grip around her new anchor. She closed her eyes again. Sleep was a fitful, elusive thing. [hr] When Haven awoke again at 4:16 in the morning she finally gave up trying to sleep. It was easier to reorient herself this time. She'd had enough practice throughout the night getting her bearings after dropping out of her nightmares. Giving a heavy sigh, she forced herself to sit up. Blink's vines had curled all the way up her arm through the night, clinging to her like he was afraid she'd be pulled away from him. Lace opened her bleary eyes at her movement, but soon enough she was back asleep. Dagger was still snoring, curled protectively around the mysterious egg. Cloak was sitting up, watching the dark room and pretending he wasn't focused intently on Haven. With little else to do, Haven reached across the bed to grab her tablet. She had four more missed calls. All together that totaled to 46 calls from her mom, Rose, and Carol. Rose had apparently sounded the alarm after Haven’s last phone call. She couldn’t say she was surprised. Not after she’d nearly had a breakdown in the middle of the conversation. Haven curled her fingers into a loose fist over the screen. Then she reached out with one slender finger, and hit the green button next to her mother’s picture. [i]Dialing… Ringing…[/i] [b]"Haven?"[/b] Her mother’s exhausted voice crackled through the speaker. [color=coral]"Hey M-"[/color] [b]"Do you have any [i]idea[/i] how long I've been calling?"[/b] Haven opened her mouth to speak but her mom beat her to the punch. [b]"Rose said you were in trouble and then what? You [i]screen our calls[/i]? Do you know how worried we were?"[/b] Haven had taken to playing with the tip of a clump of her hair, brushing the ends over her finger as her mother scolded her. Guilt ebbed over her, slow and thick. [color=coral]"I told her I'm fine. And I haven't been screening your calls, I've just been crazy busy. I only called because–"[/color] [b]"What time is it over there? Isn't it the middle of the night?"[/b] [color=coral]"It's like four in the morning. Couldn't really sleep. And… I dunno, I just missed you guys."[/color] This, at last, quieted her mother. She wasn't used to the hesitancy in her middle daughter's voice. [color=coral]"I was thinking about you so I called. And then I heard Rose's voice and I… I guess I just missed you more than I thought."[/color] [b]"Honey… are you sure you're ok? You wanna come home?"[/b] Haven breathed a small laugh to herself. Her mom was always looking for reasons for her to come home. [color=coral]"I'm fine Mom. I'll call more often, kay? It was good to hear your voice. I… I needed it."[/color] Warm tears started pooling in her eyes, but her voice didn't break. [color=coral]"I gotta go though."[/color] [b]"…Alright. I love you Haven."[/b] [color=coral]"Love you, too."[/color] Haven clicked the red button to disconnect the call. She lifted a hand to run her fingers through her tangled hair. She glanced around the bed. The rest of her team was awake, blinking drowsily in the dark. Haven having a restless night meant so did they. She reached out to scratch behind Dagger's ears, the Granbull lowering her head to nestle back over the egg. [color=coral]"Good news,"[/color] Haven murmured, [color=coral]"Mom didn't have a heart attack."[/color] She would if she ever found out what had actually been going on with Haven over the past couple of days. Haven had resigned herself to a sleepless night. It was close enough to sunrise – she'd just kill time until them. She turned her head to look at the window, curtains drawn against the night sky. Quiet fear of what – [i]who[/i] – might be lurking out there stuck in Haven's throat… and dared her to venture out into the dark. Her fingers curled into a loose fist against Dagger's fur. Pulling back her hand, she forced herself to turn away from the window and tapped at her tablet with her finger. A search engine popped up on the screen and Haven typed. [center][i]mauville blackout explosion[/i][/center] The first page was filled with dramatic headlines about what happened last night. [center][i]Explosions Rock Mauville After Blackout Mauville Blackout! Terrorist Lay Siege to the City! Electrical Attack on Mauville Still Unclaimed Dozens Injured and Six Dead in Wake of Mauville Attack[/i][/center] Haven's brow furrowed as she tapped through the different articles. Photos of the aftermath littered the different articles, shaky videos and shaken witnesses giving their perspectives. No one knew who was behind the attack – or if they did, it hadn't been released to the press yet. Haven sifted through different articles for the rest of the night until grey dawn stretched over the horizon and birdsongs filled the air. She'd moved on from news articles to mindless internet videos by the time a knock came from the other side of her door, along with a warm voice inviting her to breakfast. Forrest's wife was… kind. Accommodating. Almost doting. If Haven had been anyone else she might've reveled in it. But as it was, she just felt… overwhelmed. She wasn't used to someone going to such lengths for her. No, she was used to being the family burden, more trouble than she was worth until she started pulling her weight. (Whether or not that was what her family actually thought was irrelevant.) Haven needed to leave. It was what was best. She wasn't great at being confined to a single building, (or town, or region) she'd inevitably do something stupid to inconvenience or upset them, and she was apparently on the run from egg snatchers. Forrest's wife was probably as badass as he was, but she had four kids and two invalids to worry about. She probably couldn't afford to babysit Haven's delinquent ass on top of everything. [color=coral]"Thanks, I'll be right out,"[/color] Haven called. Leaving was really the best option. It was the smartest. It was the safest for them. Forcing herself out of bed, Haven gathered her long, messy hair to put it up in a bun at the top of her head. She inspected her bandaged left arm, unraveling the gauze to tighten it against the scars. Haven looked down at herself. Messy pajamas, messy hair, messy life. Sighing, Haven moved to the door and opened it. She stepped out into the hall, following the smell of food.