She had awoken with a scream, startled, panicked, reaching for her leg, for the bandages that weren't there, for the pain that didn't come, or at least did not match the pain she had felt before. It took her a moment to realize she was in the middle of the training field, for blind panic to fade enough for her to wonder how she had gotten there, and a moment more for the reality of things to sink in. The dream, if it was a dream, came rushing back. The two figures, the door, and Alice. She had severed the strings that had cling to her, she had broken free of what wasn't real, but what did that mean exactly?

Getting slowly to her feet, Peyton examined the bright bruise that was blossoming on her left thigh, fingers pressing gently before she winced. It hurt, but it wasn't anywhere near the mind numbing pain the break had been, and she was thankful to be waking up with no broken bones.

Still puzzled, the Sun made her way back to the dorms, pausing briefly as she made a grab for her phone and fount it missing. More than that, she was not wearing the clothing she had rushed out in the night before, but the sleepwear she had first hit the training field in. It was a worrisome find, and a creeping unease settled in the pit of her stomach, curling unpleasantly as she started moving again. A horrible thought was forming in her mind, and as she walked her fingers twisted, knotting together as she forced herself not to run.

<Peyton?>

She didn't answer, just kept moving forward, through the double door, down the hall. Picking up the pace as she got closer to the end of the hall and her own room. Here she hesitated. Here, with her hand hanging in the air over the doorknob, that awful sense of dread swelling until she might choke. Until she could hear nothing but the rush of blood in her own ears.

Licking her lips, she finally turned the knob, pushing the door open, and as she saw the bed, empty, her heart dropped. Gone, Astrid was gone. Not just the petite frame curled in her sheets, but all signs that the tiny blonde had even been there. No clothing laying about, no empty paper plates sitting on her desk. Nothing. There was nothing to suggest the girl had been there, and that rushing sound heightened, the thunderous beat of her heart now deafening as her hands trembled, at her side, and on the door still. "Astrid?" It was ridiculous, but she called her name anyways, voice light, a hopeful little lit at the end.

There was no response, and it was both expected and heartbreaking.

<Screechheart?>

She hadn't wanted Astrid here. It wasn't safe, it wasn't the life she had wanted for her sister. But now she was gone, missing, and Peyton felt as if she were on the brink of some emotional break. Lips twitched, a soft, humorless bubble of laugh filling the resounding silence, and the girl pulled the door shut again without heading inside. Instead, still shaking, she turned and headed for the stairs, for the basement. At the first room she stopped, and those wide, pale eyes stared at the door, but she didn't knock. Instead she sank down to sit against the wall across from it, arms tight around her legs, holding herself as she waited.

<It's going to be okay.>