Well, this is my latest chapter, one that ISN'T edited. I'm sure you guys are as happy as I am now that I'm uploading more chapters. Also, I'd like to thank you all for your continuous support, you've really made me continue this story, and you should all give yourself a round of applause.

In response to both MINECRAFTnet and Guest requesting that Emma be introduced into the story: I am happy to say that she will definitely be making an appearance in the story, so not to worry my friends.

*Zoey*

She didn't know where she was running to, but that didn't seem to matter at the moment. Her feet, which had been previously running on concrete, were now running on soft earth and grass. Tall trees surrounded her as she ran.

Zoey's legs burned as hot as the tears streaming down her face. Small droplets ran down her cheeks, sliding towards the tip of her chin, where they fell to the ground. It hurt to cry so much, but it was nowhere near as bad how much her heart hurt. The pain was tremendous, like someone had dropped an anvil on it, and she was struggling to breathe. It got so bad, that she tripped whilst running and scraped her knee on the pavement beneath her.

The recent turn of unfortunate events became so much for her, that she didn't even bother bringing herself to her feet again. She lay there, sobbing and hiding her head away in shame so nobody could see her crying. She remained like this for several minutes, until she heard a faint, but familiar voice ask,

"Woah, are you alright? Zoey?" The voice asked. Zoey was afraid to look up. To have one of her friends see her in such a state, was completely embarrassing. Why did things just keep getting worse for her? Shakily, Zoey raised her head so she could see who had addressed her. Her eyes finally rested on a thin teen around her age, with auburn hair and thick glasses on his face.

"H-Harold?" She asked. Harold was kneeling next to her, concern written across his face.

"Yes, it's me. What are you doing here? And what's wrong?" He asked. Zoey looked down again,

"I…I don't want to talk about it. What're you doing here?" She asked. Harold looked behind him to a telescope and some notepads,

"I was just charting some stars and planetary movements. It's a hobby of mine. When I've finished charting all of the nearby stars, I shred the notes and start over. It really clears the mind. Do you want to try?" He asked her. Zoey looked up again, and smiled.

"No thanks Harold, that doesn't really seem like my thing." She said. She reached a hand out to stable herself, and Harold helped her get into a standing position. "Hey, um…could you not mention this to the others? Actually…can we just forget this happened?" Zoey asked. Harold nodded,

"Of course. Anything for a friend." Harold smiled, "By the way, how are you going to get home? Do you have a ride?" Zoey sniffled and rubbed her nose.

"No…I…I don't…" She said.

"Oh, well then let me drive you home. It's not too far if I can recall." Harold offered. Zoey smiled and wiped her red eyes, drying them off with her sleeve,

"Thanks Harold. You really are a good friend." She thanked him and followed Harold to his car. Harold informed his parents he was going to take a friend home, and got in the car with Zoey. The two of them found themselves in an aura of silence as he drove her to her house. It was only a five minute drive, but what was supposed to be five minutes, seemed more like an hour. Finally, Harold broke the silence,

"Zoey…" He began, his voice was slow and cautious as he chose his next words carefully, "I know that you said you didn't want to talk about it…but may I just ask…is it about Mike?" He inquired. Zoey sniffled and stared out the window.

"Yes…yes Harold…I-It is…" She stuttered. Just bringing up the subject made her throat close in, forcing her to choke her words out.

"Oh…" Harold said. The two sat in silence again before Harold spoke up once more, cutting the silence with his voice, "You may not know it Zoey, but you're a very lucky girl." Zoey looked at him incredulously,

"What? How am I lucky?" She responded, emphasizing the 'I'.

"Well…I mean…one year ago, you just popped in as a new student. You didn't know anyone, and just moved here. It was a whole new environment for you. It must've been terrifying." Harold began. Zoey nodded for him to continue. Harold turned the steering wheel as they came about a turn and continued, "Yet, on your first day you meet Mike; A lonely boy with little to no friends, bad social skills, and MPD to boot. Still, you saw something in him when you sat down with him. You must've. The two of you became the closest friends last year. Whenever I saw him, you were there, and you guys looked like you were having the best of times."

Zoey remembered last year how they had fun throwing silly putty at each other during a lab with Mr. Franklin. She had laughed when he had gotten some on his shirt, and the two had engaged in a putty throwing war. Now, those memories seemed worthless.

"I remember how thanks to you, you brought Mike out of his shell, and introduced him, and yourself to new friends. And by the end of the year, you guys had a plethora of friends. You don't understand Zoey, how lucky you are I mean. You had friends and even a boyfriend by the end of just one year, while I only managed to scrounge up a few in three." Harold continued. He made another right turn, and arrived at Zoey's house. He then turned his head away from the steering wheel and faced her directly,

"What I'm trying to say is, don't get yourself down. You have friends, something that is more valuable then all of the money in the world. And about Mike…" Harold paused, waiting for Zoey's reaction. Zoey began to breathe a little heavier, but otherwise waited for him to continue, "Just think about it. The second you entered that door, you became his entire world. Without you, he would still be suffering at the hands of Scott, Duncan, and Alejandro. Not to mention Mal. Thanks to you, you've made his life worth living. And I, personally believe, that he truly does love you, and nobody else." Harold paused once again,

"Just don't give up on him Zoey. He truly loves you. Don't forget that." When Harold finished, Zoey was crying for a whole new reason now. Harold's words had seeped through the pores of her skin, and sunk into her heart. His words had lifted the anvil atop her heart, and she felt much better. With a new set of tears pouring down her face, Zoey leaned in and hugged Harold.

"Thank you Harold. You really are a good friend. LeShawna would be lucky to be your girlfriend." Harold smiled,

"You really think so?"

"I know so." Zoey nodded sincerely.

"Yes!" Harold said triumphantly. "Well, feel better. Later!" Harold drove off as Zoey waved him goodbye and walked into her house. Once inside, she walked up to her bedroom after informing her parents she was home. Zoey pushed open the door to her room and closed it behind her. She then moved over to her bed and flopped onto its soft mattress. For a few minutes, she lay there, before getting up and pulling out her yearbook again. She stared at Mike, standing next to her.

He truly loves you. Don't forget that.

Harold's deep words rang in her head once more.

"I love Mike…I…I just can't take his personalities anymore…I…I just can't. How can I tell whether or not he really loves me, or if he's just one personality that loves me, while the other four don't?"

*Mike/Jasmine/Shawn*

Mike's head throbbed still from when he fell onto the floor. The headaches were becoming more and more fierce, and frequent. Exiting the theater, Mike shook his head, hoping it would help clear his mind. The pain lingered, however, and he groaned miserably out loud. He remembered all of it. While Vito was in control, he was forced to sit and watch the events unfold before him; from being seduced by Anna Maria, to having Zoey break up with him. He was forced to suffer something many people couldn't even comprehend. It was an awful lot to take in, and Mike began to feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Jasmine and Shawn remained silent as they watched their friend stare at the sidewalk, his back turned to them, clearly in a state of depression. It was as if an aura of sadness had enveloped him, clinging to him and devouring his soul.

"Mike…" Shawn whispered, taking a step towards him. Mike shook his head however, and raised his hand towards Shawn. Even in the darkness though, Shawn could just make out the crystalline shine of tears running down Mike's face,

"Please…just…just leave me alone right now…" Mike whispered, his voice quavering as he struggled to keep his composure. Shawn took a step back again, and looked up at Jasmine. The tall Australian frowned, and turned away from Mike, beckoning Shawn to follow.

"He needs to be alone. When they're ready, we'll sort this out. I think they've endured enough drama for one day." She said. Shawn nodded and followed her past the entryway of the theater and towards the parking lot, leaving Mike by himself.

With his friends gone, Mike realized that he was now truly alone. Mustering up the last of his composure so that nobody would see him crying, Mike straightened up and walked stiffly towards his car on the other side of the parking lot. Arriving at his car door, Mike fumbled with his car keys, and eventually dropped them. He cursed under his breath as he picked them back up and inserted them into the keyhole. The door clicked open and he sat himself in the driver's seat.

Mike closed the door after him and sat silently in his car for a moment. His brain was still thawing, after being frozen stiff after receiving so much unfortunate information at once. The parking lot remained as quiet as a graveyard as he sat there, slowly regaining the emotions he had put aside while he walked to his car. Then, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Zoey…I…I…I…" Mike couldn't continue his sentence, for it hurt too greatly. His lips quivered as he spoke. His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the wave of tears that resurfaced in the corners of his eyes. With his breathing shortening, and his body shaking, Mike finally managed to spit out the rest of what he had been trying to say,

"Why?" One word. One word was all he needed to say. One word was all he needed to summarize what question constantly haunted his mind. Why? Why did he have to be born with multiple personality disorder? Why did his personalities have to come out at the worst moments, the most unfortunate moments? Why did Anna Maria kiss him? Why did she make Vito appear, and then draw Zoey in? Why didn't Zoey understand that Mike had no control over what he did? Why or why did he have to be born with MPD? Why him? What did he do to deserve this? The questions went on and on and on. Over, and over again they circled around his head, like the little yellow birds that surround cartoon characters when they are confused. Around and around they flew, repeating and asking over and over again.

The pressure began to become too much to bear. Mike just couldn't comprehend, nor did he want to understand why this had happened. With a sudden, loud cry, he burst into tears, burying his head in his arms over the driver's wheel. He coughed, sniffled, and shouted, venting the anger, confusion, and sadness all at once. The question that haunted him found itself being repeated over and over again as Mike cried aloud.

The windows of his car kept the noise inside, preventing anyone to hear his pitiful sobs. Mike didn't care though; he didn't care whether or not someone heard him crying. It didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was Zoey. And now, she was gone. The light in his world of darkness had gone out, blown out by a cold wind that shook him to the bone. Zoey hated him, and he only wished he knew how he could explain to her what had happened.

*Shawn/Jasmine*

"What just happened?" Shawn asked, as the two walked towards the other end of the parking lot. The two dared not look back. While they were worried about Mike, seeing him in such a state…it would be too much.

Jasmine shook her head, "I don't know Shawn. But something's not right. Zoey and Mike…this isn't them. Zoey and Mike definitely have eyes only for each other, and there's no way that either of them would cheat on the other." The two became silent as they soaked up the information, trying to make something out of it. Then, Jasmine spoke up,

"You don't think there's something else in play here do you? Rather, someone else in play?" Shawn looked at her, his eyes widening,

"You don't mean…Alejandro, Duncan, and Scott do you?" He asked. Jasmine thought it over before shaking her head,

"No…I doubt they're smart enough to cook up something like this…and they have no quarrel with Mike anymore. At least, Duncan and Scott don't anyway. Still...something like this…who could it have been?" Jasmine wondered aloud. Suddenly, the two heard a faint groan from an alleyway behind the theater, which they were just passing by.

"What was that?" Shawn seemed to tense up upon hearing the groaning noise, and got in a defensive pose in front of Jasmine. The couple stared down the alleyway as a figure emerged, wobbling back and forth as it staggered towards them. Shawn's eyes went wide,

"ZOMBIE!" He shouted and jumped into Jasmine's arms in fear. Slowly, the figure emerged from the darkness, revealing a blond haired teen wearing a light sweatshirt, black leggings, and converse sneakers. Dirt and grime covered her clothes. She seemed dazed, and dried blood stained the skin beneath her nose. Jasmine recognized her instantly,

"Sammy?!" Jasmine ran up to the dazed cheerleader and held her shoulders steady. "What happened to you?" She asked. Sammy's eyes rolled around in her head, and her knees began to wobble. Her eyes finally landed on Jasmine and she opened her mouth to speak,

"I saw…it…it's not Mike's fault…I know…know what happened…" Sammy whispered. Jasmine brought her hands under Sammy's legs and picked her up.

"Don't speak. First let's get you out of here. C'mon Shawn, we'll have to walk. Thankfully, my house isn't too far." Jasmine said, walking out of the parking lot and down the street. The road was devoid of any cars now, and the street lights were the only paths of light that could be seen.

"Right. Good idea." Shawn followed Jasmine down the street. Sammy lay inert in Jasmine's arms, occasionally making a faint sound. "I wonder what really happened."

*Mike*

Mike sat quietly in his car. The tears, the crying, the yelling; it had all been sucked out of him. He no longer felt like sobbing over what had happened. He no longer wanted to even think about it. Just the thought of it made him sick. So, he sat there. Staring at the bright lights of Bentlee's Movie Theater, like a fly drawn to a lamp. His eyes, however, were not glazed over and filled with lust. They were, instead, void, and vacant. Two brown pupils, showing no emotion or feeling.

Finally, Mike tore his eyes off the spectacular lights ahead of him and looked at his watch.

11:23 PM

Looking back towards the front windshield, he remembered his mother. She was probably worried about him. Without his father home to comfort her, Mike knew she would be scared about his whereabouts. Checking his phone, he noticed that she had called him a total of three times since 10 o'clock. Now, it had almost been three hours since he had left home, and he began to get worried that she had called the cops.

"I'd better get home." Mike said to himself quietly. Fastening his seatbelt, Mike revved the engine of his car, and pulled out of the parking lot. The drive was short, thanks to the lack of traffic and a surplus of green lights. When he finally arrived back at his house, he spotted the familiar banged up Patrol car, and duo of police cadets speaking with his mother. Mike's mother instantly rushed past the two (who were jotting down notes of some sort) and rushed over to Mike as he got out of the car.

"MIKE! I was so worried! You didn't answer my calls! Where were you? Are you alright?" She barraged him with questions, to which Mike raised his hands to slow her down.

"I'm…I'm alright mom. I just need some alone time, that's all." Mike said, looking downwards. His mother's brow furrowed as she watched him trudge into the house, apologizing to the cadets as he walked past them. When he finally disappeared upstairs, Mike's mother sighed heavily and walked back up to the cadets.

"Thank you so much for your help. I think I can handle it now." She said. MacArthur smiled and saluted,

"The pleasure is all mine Mrs. Miles! If you ever need us, call this number! Whether it be thieves, or a runaway turtle, you can count on us to solve the case!" MacArthur said proudly. Sanders elbowed her in the stomach before clearing her throat,

"It was our honor to help you with your son. If you ever need anything at all, just call the number on the card my partner gave you." Sanders smiled, and the two walked back to the car, where Sanders hopped in the driver's seat. As the two drove away from the curb, Mike's mother took a look at the card they had given her, before slipping it in her pocket and walking back inside. Closing the door behind her, she stared at the staircase which led to Mike's room.

Feeling her motherly senses tingling, Mike's mother just knew something was wrong with Mike. And something told her, it was about his…'quirk'.

*Mike's Bedroom*

Mike sat atop his bed, staring at the ceiling, and fiddling with a pencil in his fingers. The pencil twirled and twisted between his fingers. Just then, his door creaked open, and his mother popped her head inside.

"Hey Mikey…" She said softly. Mike looked up at her from his lying position,

"Hey mom." He replied, unemotionally.

"Mind if I come in?" She asked. Mike sat quietly for a moment before shaking his head. He watched as his mother closed the door behind her and walked over to his desk. She pulled out a chair, and sat down, facing him. Mike ignored her staring and continued playing with the pencil between his fingers.

"I'm sure you're familiar with this situation by now. Do I have to even ask?" She asked. Mike remembered the first time he was in a situation like this. Last year, when he was having trouble keeping…Mal away, he had had an outburst of anger at their dinner table. He had gotten so angry, he had stabbed the tablecloth. Mike ran upstairs afterwards, and shut himself away in his room, scared about what had just happened. Afterwards, his father had come up to his room, and requested to talk with him. Just talk, nothing else.

When he entered, Mike felt himself become less tense. Something about his presence made him at ease. And it was no exception with his mother. The two talked about what had happened, and Mike confessed all of his feelings. His father listened intently, waiting for him to finish. When he did, he said,

"We'll figure this out together. Remember that you will always have you mother and I to talk to, okay?"

And now, he sat in his room, once again a knotted ball of emotions, needing release. He needed to have someone hear him. To understand him.

"I guess I am familiar with it by now." Mike began. He then sat up from his bed, and set the pencil down on the sheets. Bringing his hands together, he sat silent for a moment before taking a deep breath. "I guess you're also familiar with the question I have for you." Mike said sadly. His mother frowned, and stared out the window next to her, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she spoke up,

"Go on." She encouraged. Mike nodded,

"Well…ever since I first met Zoey, I knew that she was something special. Not to sound cliché, but when she first talked to me, I just knew; this girl was nice enough to talk to me. She didn't know me, but she still wanted to talk to me." Mike recalled when he first met Zoey, her hair flying in the wind as she practically dove into their homeroom. "We got together so well, but I struggled to tell her about my MPD. So many people have teased me about it mom. So many. But Zoey…she didn't. She didn't care that I had it." Mike paused for a moment, to gather his bearings before he continued.

"But now…now I don't know. We went to the movie theater…tonight…just like we planned. Everything was going so well…then she asked for a snack…and I went to get her one, and-and I saw this girl there, a girl from my class. She told me a friend was waiting for me in the bathroom and that they needed my help, so I went in there, but she followed me, and-and-and she-she ripped my goddamn shirt off!" Mike's words began to cluster and mumble, as he began to submerge into another river of tears, "And then-then Vito had to show up! And then they kissed! And THEN, Zoey shows up, and sees me kissing her! But wait, it gets better!" Mike raised his voice. He was standing now, letting the emotions flow out of him.

"Now…now she says that she wants to break up with me! I-I-I just…I just can't…I don't know…I just don't understand. Why mom? Why was I born with such a curse! Such a burden! Why?!" Mike turned to his mother and pleaded his eyes watery. Quickly, she embraced him in a hug, and wrapped her arms around him. She rubbed his back affectionately, soothing him down. His quick breathing and sobs began to die down as she shushed him.

"I know Mike. I know. It hurts. I know." She said soothingly, "I know this is a lot for you Mike. You've been fighting this ever since you were 8." Mike was beginning to quiet down now. His breathing was moderately slower than before, and while his eyes were red, they were no longer spouting water.

"But you have to understand something Mike. You're unlike anyone on this planet. Nobody else I know is as strong as you. You fight this off every day, and manage to put a smile on that wonderful face of yours, like you don't even have it. You've proven that you don't deserve such a burden. But it's who you are Mike. I love you for who you are. The good, and the bad. It makes you human Mikey."

Mike sniffed once more, and the two broke up their hug. Mike smiled faintly at his mother. She smiled back at him, and he hugged her once more.

"Thank you mom." He said, hugging her tightly. Mike's mother smiled,

"You're welcome. Now, I have one last thing to say to you, and I don't want anymore tears you hear?" she teased. Mike nodded.

"Whatever happened between you and Zoey…is obviously a mistake. Don't give up on her, and she won't give up on you. You two have a connection, I can see it. Once this thing is all cleared out, things will go back to normal, you'll see. Things always get better in the end Mike." With her closing statement, Mike gave his mother one last hug, and watched as she opened the door, and walked back downstairs.

*Max*

Max twisted the wrench, forcing the last bolt in place. Though he had completed the outer casing of the machine, he still needed to finish some minor technical details however. These would take some time. His client had eagerly asked the machine to be built as soon as possible, but he didn't have the time, nor did he have the materials to have it built so soon. In the least, he would be able to complete it in two days' time. But that didn't stop his client from calling once again,

RING

Max agitatedly tossed the wrench to the side and picked up the phone,

"Hello? Is this who I think it is?"

"Yes…I just called to see how you're progressing."

"Hm. I've got some more technical details to clear up, and then it should be ready to go. Give me two days' time." Max responded.

"Please…please just hurry up. I don't think I can take this anymore…I need this done!"

Max pouted and put his hands on his hips, "Well excuse me! It's not every day you build a medical machine like this, when you are trying to destroy the world! This is completely out of my field!"

"Don't speak to me like that! You have no idea what I've just been through! You, with your tinkering and toying. You wouldn't understand!"

Max pursed his lips, "Alright! Alright I understand! You'll still give me what I want, right?" He asked curiously. The voice on the other end of the phone sighed heavily,

"Yes, yes, I'll give it to you. Not sure why you want it. Destroy it for all I care. But just don't do anything stupid. Besides, you'll only get it if this machine works! Remember that!"

Max scoffed, "Of course I remember. How could I forget? Anyway, you'll have it in two days' time. Come over when you're ready for the procedure."

"I will. Just hurry."

"I will. Just make sure you bring what you promised. Maxwell Atom, out." And with that, Max hung up the phone. He let out a grunt before walking back over to the covered machine and resumed his work. "How does he expect me to build a fully operational Surgery Capsule in less than a month, from scratch too? Honestly, I've got bigger, badder, BRUTALER things to do! Mwahahahaha *cough* *cough*, oh not again!"

And that's it. The end of chapter 7. I hope you guys enjoyed it, as I put a lot of work into it. Also, you're very welcome. You may now proceed with calling me a hypocrite for saying I would update soon. I'm sincerely sorry about that, but hey! I updated today, right? Well, anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I'm glad to be working on this again. I just hope that later chapters wont conflict with earlier ones again, and I won't have to edit them again. Don't worry though, I doubt it will happen again; I've got things all planned out.

Also, I hope you thought those heartfelt moments were well developed (for example, between Zoey and Harold, or Mike and his mom). Hopefully, I got the right message across, and that you guys like it. Once again, I'd like to thank all of your support, it really keeps me going!