A/N: Hey The Fountain's Promise fans! Well, it's been a long time since I promised to write Matt and Mello's one-shot about their year between the last chapter and the prologue, but here it is! It's a series of moments; I guess they'll be a bit like drabbles. I know it's long and looks a bit overwhelming, but they're each semi-short sections.
Read, review, and enjoy!
NO!"
Mello rocked back and fourth as the horse trotted across the flat, crusted terrain. He could still feel the weight of the gun in his hand, the trigger against his finger, the pressure as he fired over and over. Beyond had slumped into the fountain, and as soon as his bloody fingers touched the pool, the water evaporated. It evaporated, taking Light with it. Mello thought watching Light die would satisfy him. He thought all the anguish he felt the past few months would wash away.
But watching L cradle Light's stiff body, sobbing into his still chest, Mello realized it wasn't Light he hated.
"We're almost there," Matt's gentle voice broke Mello's concentration.
"Yeah," he glanced towards Matt, whose eyes were locked on the horizon.
The gentle wind tousled through Matt's hair, brushing it against his neck. The setting sun haloed his carved cheeks. Mello clutched his reins tighter, his conscience yanking at him. It had been so long since he felt that desperate, profound sorrow, the kind that no apology could change. The last time he remembered experiencing it was when he pulled Matt from the prison. He abandoned Matt there, just as he abandoned him later.
The horse bounced underneath him, waving its tail back and fourth. Mello gazed towards the blazing sun, shielding his eyes. There were no signs of a rest stop or town ahead; just vast, open dessert.
The fire crackled, shooting sparks towards the black veil enveloping the sky. Flickering shadows danced across Matt's pale cheeks as he roasted a chunk of meat, watching it as it sizzled and hissed in the heat. He hadn't realized how long he was watching the flames until Mello yanked the burning stick from his hands. The hunk of meat, which was now charred, fell into the dirt. Small flames rose from its top. Without a word, Mello stomped it out.
"Sorry," Matt mumbled, unsure why he felt the need to apologize.
Mello knelt beside him, reaching a trembling hand towards him. He hesitated before retreating, then hung his head. His blond hair rushed over his face, hiding his scar. For a moment, Matt caught a glimpse of the old Mello he knew. He almost expected Mello's half grin to break across his lips.
"Wh-what I did with Beyond..."
"I don't wanna talk 'bout it," Matt lied. In fact, he wanted desperately to talk about it. He wanted to shout at Mello, ask him what the hell he was thinking. Ask him why he broke Matt's heart. But the words lingered on his tongue and refused to go farther. A tease. His chest still ached when he thought about it. He wondered if it would ever stop.
Mello raised his chin, his cheek only inches from Matt's chin. "I wanna apologize, Matt."
"It's gonna take a hell of a lot more than that," Matt hissed, a bit surprised at his reaction. At his anger and frustration. He stood up, running his hands through his crimson hair. "You have to show me you've changed."
"Shootin' Beyond wasn't enough?" Mello asked a small grin planted on his lips.
Matt remained silent, backing into the plummeting darkness. Even with Mello's teasing tone, the words bit Matt in the chest. He took another step back, suddenly yearning to flee into the night and only chase the stars in the sky.
A hand suddenly wrapped in his. Matt glanced down at Mello, who was on his knees. The blond stared up at him with his large, brown eyes. The smile had been wiped from his mouth. "I love you, Matt. I will do any..."
"I ain't ready for this," Matt yanked his hand from Mello's grip. It felt nice to touch Mello's warm skin again, but Matt couldn't deny the pain lurking within his chest. He might have taken on too much attempting to forgive Mello.
Mello lounged against the wooden beam outside of the saloon, peering at the crowds of feet that walked by under the brim of his hat. Matt was inside trying to figure out living situations. Mello was wanted for murder; they had to be careful. The noon sun lingered high above; it's long, hot breath slipped under his collar and kissed the back of his neck. A bead of sweat rolled over his scar. He wiped it, never taking his eyes from the ground.
His pants brushed against the back of his thigh. Although it barely grazed his skin, it was enough for him to notice. He snapped around, grabbing the tiny wrist attempting to get inside his pocket. A small girl, no more than seven years old, stood frozen in front of him.
"What the hell do you think you're doin'?
"Let me go. You're hurtin' me!" she suddenly shrieked, yanking her arm in an attempt to loosen his grip. A few pedestrians were staring, but quickly scuttled on when Mello shot a glare their way. A purple tint swallowed the tips of the girl's fingers. Mello stared at her for a moment, allowing himself to soak in a yearning he hadn't felt in a long time. The desire he used to have before he robbed a caravan, before he shot a man. The feeling boiled as they glared at each other.
She had tufts of blonde hair shooting out in all directions. Her frame, too frail even for her age, was bent as if an invisible weight hung from her chest. Dirt coated her cheeks and bare arms. Her skin was crisp from the sun. Then, his eyes fell to her right eye. A scar ran from her eyebrow down to her eyelid. A sliver of white broke through her brown iris., leaking into her pupil.
"Where are your parents?" he asked.
"Dead," she murmured.
"Why ain't you in an orphanage?"
Mello knew the answer before she even spoke. He had heard horror stories of orphans who were beaten and sold to bandits as slaves. If they didn't have parents to care for them, no would wanted to. Orphans, no matter how young, were treated as second citizens, far behind other children. Mello suddenly regretted asking.
"'Cause I don't wanna," she growled.
His heart pounded as he knelt in front of her, coming down to her eye level. His grip loosened, but he didn't let go. Unaware of his hands movements, Mello brushed his shaggy bangs from his eye. She suddenly stopped struggling and gaped at his own scar. Trembling, skeletal fingers reached towards his eye. He allowed her to graze her fingers against his leathery skin. She paused before she reached his eye. He closed it and her finger traced over his burnt eyelid.
She leaned in closer, placing her whole hand on his cheek. Her hot breath tickled his nose; she stank of mud, but not sweat. She was too young to sweat. Mello finally released her wrist, but the girl didn't run. Instead, she brought her other hand up to her face, touching his clear skin.
When he opened his eyes again, tears had streaked across her dirty cheeks. "Why are you cryin'?" he purred, surprised at the tenderness lurking in his tone.
She yanked her hands away and turned her attention towards her feet. Her nose cast a long shadow across her chin. It extended down to her chest, until she looked back up towards Mello again.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"'Lizabeth."
"Pretty name," he grunted. Her expression, stained with dried tears, remained frozen. "I'm Mello. You hungry?"
She nodded, rubbing her wrist. A red mark, sprinkled with a sickening purple, wrapped around her arm. Mello averted his gaze from the wound he inflicted.
"Come, have dinner with me and my friend," he extended his hand.
"Kay," she murmured, but didn't accept his hand. They walked back into the saloon in silence. She trailed close to him, her hand grazed against his leg every so often.
The saloon was larger than any Mello had seen before. It stood as a memorial to a once glorious town. A few years before, right when Beyond's reputation started to leak to small towns far south, a group of bandits came and overtook the town. Murdered everyone in sight. After a while, law enforcement claimed the territory back, but the town never restored to its former glory. All that remained was shabby shacks, broken businesses, and the saloon.
Matt lounged in the back corner of the saloon with a cigarette dangling from his lips. His feet were perched on the table top; the bottom of his boots were coated with dried mud. Mello led Elizabeth through the labrynth of tables, avoiding the men who decided noon wasn't too early to drink.
One man reached his arm out and yanked Elizabeth towards him. "Girl," he growled. "You ain't supposed to be in here."
Mello stopped abruptly, smacking the man's hand away from Elizabeth's hip. "She's with me," he snapped.
"And who the hell are you?" The man stood up, towering above Mello. He swayed a bit, catching himself when he leaned too far back. A red film coated his eyes.
"None o' your goddamn business," Mello grumbled, embracing Elizabeth close to him. Her arms were glued to her side but, as Mello brought her closer, she nestled her nose against his hip. "Now sit back down and leave us alone."
The man stepped toward him, stumbling a bit. He took a swing at Mello, missing his cheek by inches. Mello suddenly burst into laughter. "You're so drunk you can't see straight," he sneered.
Without warning, something smashed into the back of his neck. He stumbled forward, trying to maintain consciousness. He tumbled to the ground, trembling as he stood back up. A warm liquid rushed down his hair onto his neck, mixing with the blood and dirt.
"Hey," Matt suddenly barked from the corner. He drew his pistol and aimed it at the man who snuck up behind Mello's head. "Get the hell away from them."
Mello sat up. The room spun a little, and a hazy fog clouded his vision, but he was still conscious. Conscious enough to realize Elizabeth had taken off. The saloon doors swung back and fourth from someone rushing through them.
"Holy Christ," Mello grumbled, scrambling up. He ran out into the street, touching the wound on the back of his neck. He spun around on the dirt road. Pedestrians stepped out of his path, avoiding his gaze. He stumbled forward, searching for her face in the dozens strewn across the street. Finally, he spotted her curled up against a barrel, pressed against the side of the blacksmith. Pain surged down his spine as he started towards her.
"Elizabeth," he called. Her eyes lifted at her name.
"Mello!" Mello halted at Matt's voice. The redhead rushed toward him with his cigarette still dangling between his lips. "What the hell are you doin', Mel? We're supposed to lay low."
"Yeah," Mello muttered as Matt arrived at his side. "I couldn't just…let'im touch her. Y'know?"
Matt stared at the girl they were now approaching. "Who is she?"
"She pick pocketed me before," Mello grumbled and knelt in front of her. "'Lizabeth, you aw'right?"
She stared up at both of them, then buried her dirty face into her knees. Her back heaved as she began to sob. "Go away," she mumbled.
"'Lizabe…"
"I said GO AWAY," she shrieked, pushing Mello onto his butt. She darted off again, disappearing behind the building. Mello sat on the ground, a bit too stunned to move. The pain worsened by the moment as his adreneline calmed down.
"You're bleeding," Matt muttered and pressed a cloth against Mello's neck. "Are you aw'right?"
"Yeah."
"Why did you do that, Mel?"
Mello turned around, catching Matt's eyes. For the first time since they had been reunited, Mello maintained their eye contact. He couldn't think of a good reason. Something stirred within him, something spoke to him. Elizabeth and her scar, they dug up something he thought he lost a long time ago.
"I love you, Matt," Mello found himself saying. He leaned towards Matt, suddenly yearning to breathe in his scent. "I can't…I don't even know how to apologize. I ain't too good with words."
Matt just held the cloth to Mello's neck with his lips pursed tight.
Later that week, Matt awoke with his heart slamming against his rib cage. He sat up panting and wiped the sweat brimming across his forehead. Matt glanced at the empty space next to his bed, wondering if Mello was awake in the next room. He gulped and pushed the heavy comforters off of himself. Ever since he and Mello reunited, his nightmares ignited in monstrous terrors every night to the point that Matt found himself frightened to go to sleep. But he needed his rest.
He curled back against his pillow, pressing his cheek into the scratchy material. No matter how exhausted he felt, he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. Finally, he pushed the comforters off himself and swung his legs off the bed. He hesitated before he headed over to Mello's room.
Mello was wrapped in the blankets with one bare leg jutting from the side. Tufts of blond hair stuck out from the top of his comforter. Matt leaned against the door frame, listening to Mello's muffled snores. A small smile broke across his lips. He knew the sound well.
When they were still happy, Matt used to perch himself on top of Mello while he slept and buried his ear against the blond's chest, just to listen to him breathe. Sure, he snored sometimes, but to Matt, it became a white noise that soothed him until his nightmares no longer mattered. Mello subdued them, just as he made them erupt again.
"Mel?" Matt muttered, shutting the door as he tip toed into the room.
Mello lied still, unresponsive. Matt crawled into bed next to him; Mello was always such a sound sleeper. He climbed on top of Mello and pressed his ear against his chest. Mello suddenly embraced Matt, but he never said anything. Matt glanced up, realizing the blond was still sleeping.
It took all of Matt's strength to even start the journey of forgiving Mello. No matter how close the blond was, no matter how dedicated he seemed, a paranoia and fear gnawed at Matt. He wanted desperately to forgive Mello, but he couldn't. At least not yet.
"Matt?" Mello suddenly grumbled.
Matt shot up, jumping off Mello. "Er…sorry, I just…" he couldn't think of anything. "I'm gonna go."
"No," Mello propped himself on his elbow, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Stay."
"I'm not gonna to that," Matt mumbled. "I think I keep searchin' for somethin' that ain't there anymore. Somethin' that died a long time ago, y'know? Maybe one day, Mel. But, it…"
"You came to me," Mello reminded him.
"Yeah. There's this naïve hope, y'know? I can't explain it. It's like, I want so bad just to forget everythin', but I ain't gonna do that. You hurt me, Mel. I love you, but you hurt me real bad. I try to ignore it, but every time I just keep…"
Matt pursed his lips. Mello leaned up towards Matt, perching himself on his knees. He extended one hand out to Matt. "You what?"
"I keep thinking you're a monster," Matt mumbled. The words stung his tongue, poisoned his lips. Mello slumped from his knees and hung his head. "You were a goddamn monster, Mel. You let what you thought was your one flaw corrupt you."
Tears streamed down Mello's cheeks as Matt slammed the door behind him. He raised his trembling fingers, touching his leathery cheek.
It had been several months since Mello pulled trigger and killed Beyond, and only about two months since they arrived. No matter how much Mello attempted to repent for the harm he caused Matt, Matt's loathing seemed to grow by the day. Mello treaded down the road, kicking gravel as he went. His boots were gray with dust, but he didn't have the motivation to wipe them off.
It was Sunday and everyone had filed into church only an hour before. The chapel, which had a single bell that never tolled, sat on the edge of the main road. It's wooden roof sank into the muddy beams wearily supporting it. Mello stared at the church for a good, long while, a bit unsure what he was waiting for.
He wasn't sure how long he stood there when the front doors opened up. A crowd of smiling faces poured out. It seemed the only time they smiled was after church. Mello headed towards the open doors, weaving through the crowd. He ducked his head down, shielding his eye from view. He should have been used to the glances, but he wasn't. It was as if his skin had torn open, revealing every vulnerable trait and thought. They could see the demon buried deep within him, the monster, as Matt called it. Mello despised it.
Once he stepped into the church, he ducked into a shadowed corner and lingered there until everyone left. He walked down the aisle, dragging his fingers along each pew. It wasn't much to look at, the chapel. The alter was just a table with a stained red cloth tossed over it. A stain glass window, the only window in the chapel, hung above the alter, depicting a saint kneeling down with his head raised toward heaven. One eye was a bit off centered, and his lips were a bit too low. His robe looked more like a splotch of green consuming the saint's body, rather than a cloth. The dark beams lining the walls looked just as pathetic as they did on the outside.
The priest was making his way towards the confessional booth. His shoulder slouched as he cramped his plump belly into the tiny space. No one joined him on the other side of the screen. A lump waded in Mello's throat. He took a step towards the confessional, tapped his foot twice, then snapped around on his heel and headed for the exit.
"Son," a voice suddenly boomed. "Are you troubled?"
Mello turned back, catching the priest's green eyes. Mello opened his mouth, but only found a sigh escape his lips. He dragged his feet as he weaved his way through the pews towards the confessional.
"What ails you?"
"Why you talkin' like that?" Mello scowled, slipping into the booth. He shut the door behind him, enclosing himself from the world. The booth stank of body odor. His shoulder rubbed against the booth's door, but he had no where else to go.
"Does it bother you?"
Mello could see the priests emerald eyes through the miniscule holes scattered across the screen. "No," he muttered. "Yes—aw hell, I don't know."
"Why are you here."
Mello shrugged. "Oh—uh, I don't know," he added quickly, realizing the priest couldn't see him. "Guess I'm just lookin' for something."
"What?"
"Forgiveness." The word felt heavy on his tongue. It clawed at his thoughts and his conscience. Why did he deserve forgiveness? Why should he be redeemed? "Yeah—I guess forgiveness. I don't know what else to do."
"What are you asking forgiveness for?"
The man asked a hell of a lot of questions. Mello scratched his nose and threw his foot onto the bench he was perched on. He hugged his leg and rested his chin on top of his knee. "I don't think I'm a good man."
"Why?"
""Cause I'm a murderer."
The words came out so easily, as if he'd been saying them his whole life. Saying it was much easier than apologizing or asking for forgiveness. The label should have troubled him, gnawed at him. But he was a murderer, and that was all. He had grown accustomed to that notion. He suddenly felt sick.
The priest didn't reply. He cleared his throat on the other side of the screen, but that was all. Mello didn't deserve forgiveness. That's what the priest's silence told him. Monsters cannot help what they are. Therefore, they can't apologize for it. Mello sunk his teeth into his knee, tearing a slight hole in the leather. He locked his jaw in place, still putting pressure on his exposed skin. A slight copper taste lingered on his lips.
"How many men?" The priest finally asked.
"Too many to count." His words were muffled.
"Turn yourself in, son. It is the only way. Let secular powers judge you now, seek redemption yourself while you can, and hope that the Father later shows you mercy. Do you believe you deserve mercy?"
The, "no," stuck to the sides of Mello's throat. He licked his lips and wiped the blood from his knee. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. Even in the privacy of the confessional booth, he fought the tears back. His head ached as his eyes dried. Everything hurt.
"Son?"
"No," Mello suddenly sputtered. He was crying, now.
"The Lord is merciful if you are truly sorry for your sins."
Sins. Mello's life was coated with them. Murder, thievery, adultery.
Homosexuality.
He loved Matt, but no one could understand. His love for Matt was tainted, impure. Yet how could Matt, such a perfect being, live in such a dreaded sin? Did the devil corrupt everyone in some way? If it wasn't for Mello, Matt would be clean. God's perfect child. No one could understand them. Except L. L could. Mello suddenly cried out. Light's pale, stone face erupted in his memories. And L leaning over him, his hands resting on Light's cold cheeks. L had moaned, a low, long howl. His chest had trembled.
All Mello could do was watch.
"There's more," Mello muttered.
"Tell me, my son."
Mello bowed his head and began, "Forgive me, father, for I have sinned."
Mello gripped Elizabeth's small hands as he helped her down from his horse. It had been a fight to convince her to come, but Mello's promise to find her a good home finally swayed her. Matt had watched as Mello had knelt besides the little girl and run his fingers through her hair. They had grown close in the town and, after a few months, Mello threw his duffle bag on his horse and claimed he was ready to leave. Matt never argued with Mello's decisions; he wanted to let the blonde figure everything out on their own.
But Mello never mentioned where they were headed, even after four days into their journey.
Matt finally knew why when they reached their destination. He had been to the house once before, about a year before. It felt like centuries, though. The house stood tall in front of a sculptured garden of cacti and shrubs. Not one spec of dirt rested on the white panels surrounding the estate and, for a moment, Matt was sure it was a dream.
"Mel," he muttered, glancing towards the blonde. Mello didn't say a word. Instead, he took Elizabeth's hand and led her towards the front door. Matt followed close behind. "Mel, what are you doin'?"
"There ain't no other way," Mello murmured as he wrapped on the door.
Almost instantly, the door creaked opened. An elderly man stood before them. He scanned the guests and, when his eyes fell on Matt, a spark of recognition glimmered in his eyes. He stepped aside and Mello wandered into the front hall, still clutching Elizabeth's hand.
"I sent a letter to the Governor a few days ago."
"Right, of course," the elderly man breathed through his beard, then disappeared into another room.
Mello knelt beside the girl. A shaky smile rested on his lips. "Stay with Matt, aw'right? I got some business to attend to. But remember what I promised you."
"Where you goin'?" she mumbled.
Mello just stood up and nudged her in Matt's direction. She hobbled over and buried her nose in Matt's pants. He retrieved a cigarette from his pocket. His fingers trembled as he lit the end. The last time he had been within these walls, he felt the same dread. And Mello, like always, was the cause.
The doors which the elder disappeared behind reopened and Governor Mikami stepped out with two men following him. Without a word, the two men charged at Mello. They slammed him to his knees. One tied his arms behind his back while the other gripped his shoulder.
"You don't have to be so rough with him!" Matt cried out. "Governor?"
The Governor glanced towards Matt. "I would have to disagree with you. No criminal, no murder, deserves mercy."
"Why not?" Matt growled. "Why the hell do you get to show no mercy? Mello came here on his own accord."
"Matt," Mello glanced up at the redhead through a golden, disheveled veil. His voice cracked as he spoke, but his face remained stoic. A knot twisted in Matt's stomach. "It's okay. I wish I could explain to you why I gotta do this."
"I know why," Matt muttered. "I understand, but I still hate it. It ain't fair."
Elizabeth yanked on Matt's pants. "What're they gonna do to him?"
Matt just wrapped his arm around the girl and drew her in closer.
"I know you don't owe me nothin'. In fact, I owe you my life. But, the little girl that Matt's holdin' deserves a good home." Mello straightened his posture, tilting his head towards the Governor. "Can you find her one since I won't be able to?"
The Governor glanced toward the girl, then back at Mello. He began to pace, scratching the back of his neck. Matt felt his knees weaken and, before he could stop himself, he collapsed next to Elizabeth, their head the same height. She stood frozen, keeping her arms at her side. Then, she placed her cheek on his shoulder.
"Before I received your letter, someone else wrote to me regarding your fate," the Governor announced as he retrieved a piece of parchment from the breast pocket of his jacket. "If you would like, I can read it out loud."
The inkling that the words told the Governor to torture Mello and make his life Hell before finally ending it drilled into Matt. He wanted to cover his ears, to cover Elizabeth's. This was his fault. If only he could have forgiven Mello earlier. If only he could have shown Mello how much he meant. Pain wracked at his chest, but he let it eat at him. If Mello deserved to die, so did Matt.
"Fine," Mello replied.
"It's from L. Let's see—it's about the third paragraph he mentions you. There's a bit more to this letter than just a simple hello. I find myself inclined to write this, as if it is my duty. Maybe a part of Light's soul has merged with my own, but I'm starting to understand this repentance ordeal. It seemed silly at first. I've committed sins in my life, but I was able to find forgiveness. Light, however, was different. He couldn't find any until he was free of his body. And I see a lot of Light's suffering within Mello. I know you must despise him. A part of me does, as well. But Mello was not to blame for what happened. He's young, and he was tempted. Believe me, Beyond's manipulation knew no bounds. If Mello seeks forgiveness, as Light did, grant it to him. You may keep him under your watch, to ensure he is honest about his suffering, but he will destroy himself in the end. Show him mercy, teach him about goodness and love. After all, Governor, you were able to pardon Light. Mello killed Beyond in the end."
After the Governor finished reading, the room fell silent. Mello gazed at the floor, as if studying the patterns on the carpet below him. Then, the Governor knelt down and untied the binds around Mello's wrists.
"Why would L say that?" Mello muttered as the two men helped him to his feet. "Why—how can he…"
"I respect L as both a man and an intellectual. Because of this, I'm placing you in his care. You will work in the town which is currently being built around the Fountain. You will work hard and never break the law again. Both Matt and this young girl will stay with you. Matt, I'm trusting both you and L's judgment. Make sure my trust is not broken. I'm showing you mercy, Mello. Will you remember that?"
Mello nodded. His mouth dangled open as he wandered towards Matt and Elizabeth. Elizabeth threw her arms around Mello's hips. And Matt had to catch Mello as he fell towards him. His chest heaved as tears fell from his cheeks.
"I forgive you, Mel," Matt whispered in the blonde's ear. "I love you."
The journey to the Fountain was quiet. Mello couldn't bring himself to speak, afraid that it was all a dream. Or a nightmare. Why did he deserve such special treatment? A part of him wished he could have taken Light's place. He glanced back at Matt, whose arms were wrapped around Elizabeth's tiny body. She was nestled against him, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. Even though they had only been together for about a week, she'd grown quite attached to Matt. But she followed Mello around everywhere.
"We're almost there. About half a day's journey, I think," Matt grinned as he shielded his eyes from the blazing sun. "You can thank L in person, then. I know I will."
Mello swayed back and fourth on his horse, clutching the reins until his knuckles turned white. His nails dug into his palms, but he didn't mind too much. He embraced the pain.
"Dammit, Mello," Matt suddenly growled. "Answer me. You've been in this goddamn doll state these past few days. I'm sick of bein' ignored."
Mello yanked on the horses reins and hopped off it when it stopped. He grabbed Matt's wrist and pulled him off his own horse. Elizabeth fell forward, nestling her cheek on the horse's mane.
"What the Hell, Mello?"
Without hesitation, Mello pushed his lips against Matt's and grazed Matt's cheek with his trembling fingers. Matt froze in his grip, then wrapped his arms around Mello's waist. He tasted like cigarettes; Mello never realized how much he missed that. "I'm sorry, Matt," he breathed when the kiss broke. "Thank you for-hell, I don't know. Just thanks."
A small smile spread across Matt's lips. "Anytime, babe."
A/N: Well! I hope you guys enjoyed that...slightly long one-shot. Let me know what you thought! Thanks to anyone who decides to review-it means a lot.
Okay bye!