Author's Note: And another chapter is born! Well, it was born two weeks ago. I sent it to Llanea but got no reply, so I guess she changed her email, so this hasn't been beta-read. And wow, I almost put readed. Anyway, as always, this is terribly terribly far apart from the others, and as always, sorry about that. But on another note, this chapter is a lot less actiony(if you would call he previous ones actiony) and has a lot of pointless little details. I'm kind of worried about this, but with no one to get advice from I decided to just leave it in.

A dull beeping slowly penetrated Leaven's levels of sub consciousness, gradually growing to an obnoxious annoyance that finally brought her groggily back to reality. Her eyes fluttered half open and she stared blankly at white. The beeping ensued, and she threw her arm mechanically to the left. Her hand hit the button to silence the siren as it had known how to for so many years. Now her gears slowly began turning again, and her eyes opened fully.

She sat up with a jerk, wide eyed. Her next move was to clutch her chest, which stung with pain. She ignored it and looked around the room. The walls were a stark white, and there was only one door in this room, a dark red mahogany number on the opposite side of the room. The left wall was lined end-to-end with modern metal and glass bookshelves, each filled with volumes of books both thick and thin. On the other side was a matching modern desk, atop which sat a computer and various accessories. Pulled up to the desk was a black computer chair. Also on the wall was a more comfortable looking black arm chair, accompanied by a lamp.

Her thought process was still not fully awake, and she slowly registered these facts: Worth wasn't here. She knew this room. Will wasn't here. She'd known it for a long time. Her chest hurt. It was her room. Smith wasn't here. She was in her home. After these thoughts her brain finally awoke, and she realized she was out of the cube, returned to her house as if it were some average morning. She reached to the metal and glass bed stand, and found her glasses to be where they always had. She slipped them on, and saw they were perfect. Well, not perfect, but free of any blood or smudges, and the lenses were intact. She looked down at herself, and saw she was in her silken off-white pajamas.

Everything was in order. If it weren't for the pain in her chest, she might believe it had all been one heck of a dream. But that was just it, her chest hurt. As in, it didn't feel like it was being ripped apart by some blinding force. How long ago had she passed out? She gingerly felt her head, and found a small bump on the left side of her head, which was slightly tender.

With the knowledge time had passed the sense of urgency in her drained away, and she slowly got out from under her off-white sheets and the thick quilt wrapped around her waist, her feet finding the cold wooden floor. After the initial shock, she felt around for her off-white slippers and slipped her feet into them. Now she stood, and the needles in her chest protested the action, commanding her to fall to the ground in pain.

She didn't listen, and instead thought in a melancholic way that her chest was much better now. She still didn't plan on doing any marathon's though. Her feet carried her across the floor, and she stiffly opened the door. Upon seeing the familiar hallway she relaxed, not really sure what she was expecting in the first place. She shuffled across the mantel and looked around, assuring herself she was indeed in her home sweet home.

To her left was a long white wall with two doors, the master and guest bedroom. Across from her at the end of the wooden-floored hallway was a fourth door, the upstairs bedroom. The final side of the hallway was home to an elegant black metal railing. Directly to her right was a modern metal staircase that would take her to the first floor. The whole thing was gently lit by the morning light pouring in from the high windows all the way to her right, a wall which also held the front door. A very familiar scene, this was definitely her house.

She shut her door and walked down the hallway, passing the first door and stopping at the second. Here she tensed up again, and after a nervous pause turned the knob and let the door swing open. A scene of a darker room, dimly lit by some light filtering through below the end of the curtains and the light coming from the doorway. Leaven's eyes slowly rose up her silhouette cast across the floor to the foot of the bed before finally landing on their target.

Two motionless bodies lay, mostly devoured by blankets. Their faces were unidentifiable, murky shadows in the insufficient light. Then one body turned onto its side, a feminine sigh escaping its lips. Leaven gave a sigh of her own, the air she'd been holding in her lungs going free. That sigh told her the two things she wanted to know: Those were indeed her parents, and, they were alive and well. She took a look at their bed stand, seeing the time was seven-oh-three a.m. Her father would be waking up in twenty-seven minutes, leaving the house at precisely seven-fifty-seven a.m. to make the forty-two-and-a-half minute commute to work. Then would waste the day away until twelve-oh-two p.m. when he would go on lunch break, returning at twelve-forty-three to continue his day until seven-thirty-six p.m. Here he would return home at eight-thirteen p.m., and retire to his office on the first floor and work into the late hours of the night, leaving only to get a snack.

Her mother would stay in bed until ten. After getting up she would begin her ritual morning cleaning, a pretty thorough cleaning of every room in the house. She would then make herself a light lunch, probably involving a salad and something steamed. Afterwards she would continue planning her next event, depending on how much time had passed that would either be her Sunday book club or that party she was having. Afterwards she would go out into town for shopping and talking to her prissy book club friends. Upon returning home she would start dinner, then relax for a half-hour or so with a book. Then she would finish dinner and serve the meal of two (Mr. Leaven didn't eat with the family), which will undoubtedly be some elegant five-star restaurant meal she read about in one of her magazines. Joan wished she would just cook spaghetti once in a while. After dinner her evening cleaning would commence, starting with the dishes. This being the 'real' cleaning, she would make every room spotless, not that it had time to get dirty in the first place. After some more reading she would retire to the bedroom, where she would fall asleep alone, to be joined by her husband some hours later.

Leaven closed the door and headed downstairs. The stairwell emptied her into the entrance hall, dark-carpeted room with two bare doorways and one wooden door which held the bathroom, placed under the stairs. One doorway would head into the living room, featuring more modern furniture and a matching carpet. From there was were glass sliding doors that empty into the backyard, a maze of hedge work, elegant yard furniture, stone walkways, and garden. There was also a dark wooden door, a forbidden door that led to her father's office. The office was relatively small, walled in on all sides with bookcases, and in the center his massive desk and computer. There was a door in the office that also emptied into the bathroom. The final exit from the living room was another empty doorway that lead to the dining room, also adorned in the royal blue carpeting. Here was yet another empty doorway, leading into the kitchen. In the kitchen was a stairwell to the basement, hidden behind a wall and a door. And one final empty doorway, which is one and the same with the last doorway of the entry hall.

The dark haired girl took to the kitchen, though not for food. She walked up to the calendar, laden with events her mother was hosting or going to, and checked the date. It was a Thursday, and by her memory her little adventure began two weeks ago. This relieved her in some ways and worried her in others. Her primary thought was that this was proof. People don't just sleep for two weeks. Following close behind was a worry, a worry for Will and Worth which had always been at the back of her mind but was now in full bloom with the confirmation of the Cube's existence. Then of course there was the matter of her friends and family.

She was almost swept with relief at the simple thought of 'its finally over'. But it was quickly taken away, because she knew it wasn't. A short-term plan was made. She headed upstairs and readied for school, dressing and grabbing her things. Then she returned downstairs and headed out the front door. She got in her compact white car and pulled the key out of her backpack. She would go to college like any other day, act normal and follow the rules of society. And after, well, that was another story.

Another Author's Note: I'm pretty sure I didn't put in any feeling of relief, or anything about finally seeing sunlight or the outdoors. I apologize for that, bad writing on my part. I don't want to add any in though, because I want to post this as soon as possible. Not like I have a mass of awaiting fans or I'm on a deadline, but I still do.

Also if Llanea, Amburger, or Lucy read this chapter; I apologize again for the massive overdue-ness of this. And also I thank you for getting this far.