A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I initially spelled 'Skidder' as 'Skitter' and then I read an article were they spelled it as 'Skidder' so I change it, but every article I've read since, has spelled it as Skitter. Sigh. So I've now changed the spelling back to Skitter. Just some trivial information :)

Here is next chapter. Enjoy! Updates are quick at this stage as I've already written the first three chapters.

.

.


CHAPTER TWO.


.

.

Life had returned to some semblance of normality. Family meals at a dinner table being one of them. His dad was a stickler for keeping up certain traditions. Ben didn't mind family dinner time, but he and his dad didn't always see eye to eye. There once was a time he wouldn't have questioned his father at all, but since the end of the war, lots of things had changed. People acting as if the war had never happened, reverting back to how life used to be.

"You know they are officially opening the first university," his dad spoke.

Like that, what was with that?

His father glanced his way. "You should attend, Ben."

Ben merely snorted before shoving a forkful of mashed potato in his mouth. He swallowed and glanced at his dad. "Why?"

A slight frown dented his dad's forehead. Was it disappointment that flashed in his dad's eyes right now? Probably concern, or maybe both?

"C'mon, Dad," he exclaimed. "They are just money making institutions that slap a whole lot of ridiculous tests to gauge our supposedly intelligence. Do we really need them? Learning on the job is much more effective and practical. We don't need to revert back to the old ways."

Matt's eyes widened. He warningly shook his head as if to say, 'don't go there.'

He could feel his dad's eyes studying him, as if trying to figure him out.

"That was your dream once, to attend the best university. You wanted to go to Yale."

Ben inwardly sighed, couldn't his dad get it?

"I'm not the same idealistic kid anymore," he pointed out.

His father nodded in a way that told Ben he wasn't pleased and was about to start of some sort of lecture supporting his point of view.

"I know you're not. And I'm proud of you, Ben. You know that, but there is still a lot you can and should learn …"

"About our history," he butted in.

"Well that's part of it," his dad began, but Ben cut him off.

"I don't care about it. It's sort of irrelevant now, just like having to elect a President. Wouldn't it make more sense to have a collective group of people with equal power and responsibility?"

"The President doesn't hold total power," his father sighed.

Ben pushed on, irrespective of what his dad believed or had to say.

"If you ask me I think the Volm have the right idea. If we should be learning anything, then we should learn other customs outside of just ours. It makes us ignorant if we don't."

Sudden silence descended at the dinner table. Ben noticed the way his dad's jaw clenched. He'd obviously hit a nerve. He could feel his own annoyance rise.

"You spend a lot time with the Volm," his dad began. "You're beginning to sound ashamed to be human."

Ben stabbed at the peas on his plate.

"Sometimes I am." He'd seen the way people treated the half Skitter kids. Maybe they had learned a thing or two from the war, but people still didn't like different.

His father's expression changed to one of concern. Ben swallowed and returned his attention to his plate of food. His appetite deserting him. Picking up a fork, he forced himself to eat. Did his dad really believe everything could go back to normal afterwards, as if the war had never happened? A war that had wiped out 90% of the human population, turning people into monsters.

"Forget I said anything," he muttered.

Noise returned to the table, but Ben was lost in his own thoughts. Anne chatted about her day, about Maggie's pregnancy check-up. That was the last thing he wanted to hear about.

Excusing himself from the table, Ben made a hasty retreat to his bedroom. A restlessness took hold, mixed up with a whole host of different emotions he was normally good at burying. Anger, pain and sense of hopelessness swept over him. When he felt this way there was only one thing to do; run.

Changing into a pair of tracksuit pants and navy blue t-shirt, he pulled on a pair of sneakers.

"Ben," his dad called from the other side of the door.

Ben inwardly sighed. It was only a matter of time before his dad tracked him down. He wasn't one for letting go. Ben wasn't in the mood for another one of his dad's pep talks. He needed to release the building emotions coursing through him.

Yanking the door open, he all but glared at his father.

"Not now, Dad. You can talk all you want later, but right now I've got to run."

His dad pinpointed him with a concerned look. "Where exactly?"

"My usual track."

"At night?! Do you think that's a good idea with your impaired vision? You know how bad it is when it's dark."

Ben clenched his jaw. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of his so called disability.

"I'm not blind yet," he hissed and pushed past his father.


The cold night air was soothing on his flushed face. Hearing the rhythm of his heart beat in keeping with his strides as he ran up the track that led to the newly built dam, was comforting. He could feel all tension oozing away. It was a good five mile run to the dam and back. Lucky for him it was a full moon, otherwise he'd practically be running blind. Even though he'd ran this track countless times during the day it looked different at night. Dark shadows blurred into each other on the outer periphery of his vision. He welcomed the solitude, the familiar noises of the night. An owl hooted in the distance.

This was good. He felt calm again.

Ben didn't see the person in front of him till it was too late. His body collided with theirs, and they both went tumbling to the ground.

A body, light in weight, landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. By some luck his glasses hadn't fallen off his face.

"What the hell!" A voice exclaimed, sounding every bit a girl.

She abruptly scampered off him, and he struggled to sit up.

"What are you playing at? I saw you, and you just ran straight into me?!" she raged, her voice sounding familiar.

Ben managed to scramble to his feet. "I'm sorry," he panted. "I just didn't see you."

"Are you fucking blind?!"

He could feel his temper rising. Peering into her face, he pushed his glasses up his nose. She had the most irritating voice that was also disconcertingly familiar and … "You!" he exclaimed.

She scowled up at him. "No way, bloody 'holier than thou', Ben Mason."

God, he couldn't stand her. Just his luck to run into her. Every morning he had to see her mocking face when she dropped her adopted half Skitter sister to the 'Skitter School.' Her exact words. He remembered them.

'So what's it like teaching at the Skitter School?'

'Refreshing,' he'd replied.

He hadn't missed the repulsion of her face as she gazed around the room at the other kids. Her parents were so nice that he couldn't figure out how they managed to have such a snarky brat for a daughter.

'Really,' she'd mocked. 'I guess it must be challenging to teach witless barely human kids day in, day out.'

Was she for real?!

'They are surprisingly more intelligent than the average human person.'

She had glared up at him. He had glared down at her. And that became their typical morning exchange when she dropped off her adopted sister. A glare for a glare.

He shook his head, she was the last person he wanted to see right now. For the most part, he ignored her, as if she wasn't worth his attention.

"What are doing out here?" he snapped.

"I could say the same."

"I'm running."

"Me too and I run this track every night and I've never seen you on it before."

They stood, hands on hips, glaring at each other.

"I generally run during the day." Not that he had to explain anything to her.

"Good thinking, better sticking to that arrangement so I don't have to see your conceited face, because it's bad enough seeing it every morning."

"Feelings mutual," he retorted.

Her eyes swept over him with disdain, before resting on his face. "You're obviously blind as a bat even with glasses."

"Charming as ever, Amy," he grunted.

She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder, still glaring at him. "Aren't you even going to ask if I'm okay?"

No, not really. He didn't care.

"Because I'm not," she all but spat out. "I think you've MADE me sprain my ankle."

She what ….

"Which means you are going to have to help me get home."

He froze. What the hell! No way!

"Shit," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair.


It was awkward to the say the least, having her lean on him as they made their way back to town.

"Don't be getting any ideas either, keep your hands in the appropriate places," she grumbled.

"I wouldn't touch you if you paid me," he retorted.

"So I'm not good enough for the 'all mighty' Ben Mason," she mocked.

Just having her grip his arm, and him having to put his other arm around her was bad enough without her shooting of her mouth all the time.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you married one of those weird and ugly looking Aliens you seem to love hanging out with," she began.

"They are called the Volm," he interjected.

"Whatever," she snorted. "As I was saying I wouldn't be surprised if you married one of them and started a whole new tribe of half breeds to repopulate the planet."

Did he have to endure this for another two miles?

"How old are you?"

"18, why?"

Really. She was that old.

"You don't act it."

Given the way her shoulders stiffened, she hadn't like hearing that. He smiled to himself. Good.

Half a mile later, the pain in her ankle had intensified. Ben had resorted to giving her a piggy back. Much to his chagrin. This night was just getting worse and worse. Luckily she was light, but for some one on the petite side she sure had a mouth on her. Not to mention every now and again her ponytail, the one she loved tossing over her shoulder in all of her haughtiness, would fall into his face, tickling his nose. He'd push her hair out of his face, his frustration mounting. He could swear she was doing it on purpose. He couldn't wait till this was over.

"You have a lot of scars on the back of your neck," she spoke.

Obviously it was too much for her to remain quiet for long.

"Really," he began sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed."

He felt her pull the top of his t-shirt back. "What are you doing?"

She let out a low whistle. "Wow, it's bad."

He promptly stopped, letting her go. She fell to the ground with a squawk, hopping on one leg. Scowling at him. "What was that for?"

"You have no right!" he yelled, feeling outraged.

"Ease up, for someone who's an Alien lover you sure are touchy about the scars on your back."

"No doubt you find them as repulsive as the kids in the Skitter school," he accused.

She frowned. "Get over yourself, Ben Mason. You forget my adopted sister is half Skitter and I've seen the worst of it."

Now he felt kind of stupid, she was right. "You said it was bad."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't see much of anything, too dark. I only said that to get a reaction out of you."

He didn't at all understand her. "Why?"

"Because you piss me off. You act as if you are so much better than us."

"I don't know how you get that impression and frankly I don't even care," he returned.

"You see, the way you use words, not to mention you don't even associate with people your own age or species."

Ben worked his jaw in frustration. "It's not because I think I'm better. I just don't fit in. That's all it is."

She shrugged nonchalantly as if it didn't matter either way.

He shook his head and took a deep breath. "Let's just get home." The sooner the better.

Squatting down, she climbed onto his back. He started walking, his legs aching. He hadn't expected to be lugging someone on his back for two miles.

There was silence for a while. Was there any truth in what she had said? Did other people his age think he was up himself? Quite truthfully he didn't think any of them would care. He'd been a freak for so long now it almost felt normal. He didn't even expect to be accepted by fellow peers his own age.

He felt her fingers touch the scars on the back of his neck.

"Is it from the harness?" she asked.

The question startled him for a moment. For a change her tone wasn't mocking.

"Yes."

"Did it hurt?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't remember much of it."

"How old were you when it happened."

"14."

He was surprised by her sudden curiosity.

"How did you get away from the Skitters?"

"I didn't, not on my own. When you're harnessed you no longer have free will. My brother and dad found me. Dad killed the Skitter who controlled me along with five other kids. They took us back to the base they were living at. Anne removed the harness from my back otherwise I'd be looking even more Skitterish than your adopted sister."

"Now that is a tragedy," she murmured. "She still has nightmares."

"A lot of them do."

"No one can settle her afterwards."

"There is a trick to that."

"Like what."

Ben didn't know what to make of her. Was this the same girl?

"Stop by the school one day and I'll show you, if you like."

Were they actually having a conversation now?

"I'll tell my mom. I don't have much to do with Sarah. I only tolerate her because I have too."

Ben gritted his teeth, and there was the Amy he knew. She really was a bitch, but even so, his curiosity was aroused.

"Why?"

"She isn't my sister. She will never be my sister."

There was so much venom in her words, that Ben was momentarily shocked. Why the hate and anger? And why should he even care? She was just an immature spoilt brat that hated everyone and especially him. Despite it all, her words bothered him. There was more to it. She was hurting. Something must have happened to her to cause all that hate. It wasn't surprising either. No one had escaped that war unscathed.

There was silence for the remainder of the hike to Amy's house. He'd given anything to shut her up at the start, but now he found the silence disconcerting.

They had just about reached her house, when she finally spoke. "After they took the harness off how did you feel?"

It was the last thing he expected her to ask. She was the oddest girl.

"Disorientated," he replied. "I didn't know where I was or who I was. There were people around, my brothers, but I didn't recognise them at first. Then my dad called my name and the memories slowly returned. It was like waking from a dream." He could still recall it as if it were yesterday. "I was still me. I was Ben."

"You were lucky," she murmured, her breath warm against his neck.

He felt strangely comforted by this angry, unpredictable girl, who swung from hot to cold in the matter of a minute.

"I know," he sighed.

Finally her house came into view. His legs were numb by this stage. It was a blessed relief when she slid off his back. He bent over and reached for his toes to stretch out his back.

"Even though you're not heavy, after two miles everything aches."

"Lucky for you I don't weigh a ton," she quipped.

So, she had a sense of humour under all that anger and snarky attitude. He straightened up and for the first time he actually took in her appearance. She certainly didn't look 18 and more like 16. Her face was devoid of any make-up. Her long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, the very one that had so pissed him off every time if fell in his face.

A puzzled frown dented her forehead. "You checking me out now?"

Again there was that mocking tone in her voice, the one he didn't like.

"There's not much to check out." The words just slipped out before he could stop them.

He shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that."

She shrugged. "I really don't care what you think of me."

He gritted his teeth. "That's right, how stupid of me to forget that you hate me."

They glared at each other for the hundredth time that night.

"And for the record," she piped up, "You're not much to look at either."

She could be so infuriating.

"I guess not. I don't care either."

He really couldn't fathom how she managed to get under his skin so easily.

"You know," he continued. "All this bickering is really juvenile."

"Hmm and the way I see it you are equally participating in it."

He clenched his jaw.

She raised an eyebrow, looking smug. "How old are you?"

He didn't have to answer that. He wasn't about to give her the satisfaction and luckily he was saved from having to say anything more, when the front door opened.

"Oh, Amy," Sarah exclaimed, running towards her. "You're home." The younger girl wrapped her arms around Amy's waist.

Was there actually a hint of fondness in Amy's eyes? Wasn't the girl hugging her the same adopted sister she had so vehemently denied would never be her sister?

As if aware she was being watched by him, Amy disentangled Sarah's arms from her waist.

"Why don't you run inside and get a big glass of water for Mr Mason."

Sarah frowned. "You mean Ben?"

Amy's gaze met his. "Yes, I mean Ben."

The young girl ran back inside and Ben didn't miss the curiosity in Amy's eyes.

"You don't make them call you Mr Mason?"

"I'm just not ready to be called that yet," he stammered. "Beside it makes me think of my dad."

Her eyes studied his face.

"You don't look old enough to be a teacher," she observed.

"Technically speaking I'm not, but age doesn't really matter anymore does it? I was fighting a war and killing Skitters at just 15. My younger brother was doing it at 12."

Her head tiled to one side, eyes alight with interest.

"How many Skitters have you killed?"

"I don't know. Too many to count."

He began to squirm uncomfortably under her sudden attentive gaze.

"I just can't picture you being this macho gun wielding Skitter killing machine."

He smiled at the definition.

"Yeah well, after they removed the harness I still had the spikes in my back and they gave me this strength I'd never had before. I could run without tiring and jump off four storey buildings. It was pretty cool."

A glimmer of smile hovered at the corners of her mouth. "And now you are just boringly normal."

He nodded and sighed. "Yep."

Her questioning gaze met his. "You are a bit of an enigma, Ben Mason."

"Does that mean you've changed your former opinion of me as being 'holier than thou'?" he quipped.

Her smile widened. "Maybe."

Now this was definitely odd. She was almost being likeable. When she smiled it changed her whole countenance. She almost looked kind nice, and even pretty.

Sarah returned with a glass of water. Ben thankfully took it from her. He was dying from thirst.

After sculling the contents of the glass, he looked up to find both the girls watching him. He couldn't even begin to read Amy's expression, only it wasn't one of disdain for a change.

"I need to get home and collapse into my bed," he began, handing the now empty glass to Sarah. "Thanks for the water."

"I guess this is where I should thank you for half carrying me home, even though you caused me to sprain my ankle in the first place."

He raised an eyebrow. "So is that a thank you or not?"

"I guess it's my screwed up way of saying thank you."

"Okay then, you're welcome, Amy."

Reaching out a hand, he tousled Sarah's hair. "I'll see you at school."

He glanced at Amy and nodded. It had been a weird night to say the least. He gave a quick warm smile.

"I'm sure I'll see you around."

With that, he turned away and left.

Amy stood there somewhat surprised as she watched Ben Mason's retreating back. Just when she seriously wanted to hate the guy, he could be surprisingly charming. All her former judgements of him were put into a tail spin.

She had him figured out wrong.

Ben Mason was far from being up himself, and not even remotely 'holier than thou'. He was in fact unlike any other guy she'd ever met.

He was warm, caring and great with kids. He was undeniably cute, though she hated to admit it. She had been completely lying when she told him he wasn't much to look at. She couldn't really get a good look at his eyes behind the thick lensed glasses he wore, and it being night and all.

He was also smart, though somewhat short tempered. Still, she had been horrible to him. She had also been impressed that he could take it, and also dish it back to her.

"He's so dreamy isn't he?" Sarah sighed alongside her.

Amy turned to her shocked. "Whoa Sarah, you are much too young for that sort of girly nonsense."

Sarah held her head high. "I'm 11, nearly 12."

Amy inwardly sighed. It was about time they had a girl to girl talk when it came to boys.


Amy had no sooner stepped inside when her mother started to give her the third degree. She was lying on the sofa with an ice pack on her ankle. Under the light it was significantly swollen.

"You know I don't like you running that track to the lake at night," her mom huffed as she inspected her ankle. "Let's just hope it isn't broken."

Amy winced as her mom removed the ice pack and began to strap her ankle.

"You are just lucky it was Ben Mason who found you …"

"He didn't find me," Amy interrupted. "He ran straight into me, causing the now sprained ankle."

"He's a very nice young man, unlike that boy you are seeing."

"You mean Jed?"

She only went out with Jed because he supplied her with alcohol. He was 21, which meant he could buy alcohol for her. They had their boozy nights, which would send her mother through the roof. Her parents had tried grounding her on numerous occasions, but she'd just walk out of the house. She was 18. She wasn't a child, they could no longer tell her what to do. As for love, no chance of that ever happening. Her heart had already been ripped out once. She wasn't about to let that happen again. Not that she had a heart to break anymore.

But lately, Amy hadn't been happy with Jed. He was starting to demand sexual favours in replacement for the alcohol. She had spent the last week avoiding him. She had taken to running in the evenings to distract herself. Part of her wanted to break free from her addiction, but the other part still craved it. Alcohol numbed the pain. It meant she could forget all that she had lost for a little while.

"So what did you think of him?" her mom casually enquired.

"Don't even think about trying to match make us," she growled.

Her mom shot her an indignant look. "I've given up on that."

"Maybe if I was Alien he might be interested in me," she couldn't help to quip.

The displeased look that crossed her mom's face was just as she expected. "You have to admit that he doesn't associate with anyone his own age."

"Well I guess it's difficult for him. He's been through a lot. It must have been horrible for him to be harnessed, then having it removed and having to adjust to being a bit different."

Amy didn't doubt that. He had been surprisingly open when answering her questions.

"I admit that he isn't as stuck up as I thought," she confessed. "But I still don't get how he didn't see me. There was even a full moon. The guy is seriously blind as a bat."

Her mom shot her a sudden worried look.

"Please tell me you didn't say that to him tonight, Amy?"

She bit down on her lip.

"I might have … why?"

Her mom shook her head in disappointment. "When will you ever stop that sharp tongue of yours?"

"It didn't seem to bother him," she blurted out in her defence. "So I don't see what the big deal is?"

"The big deal is that Ben will be blind soon enough if he doesn't have a cornea transplant."

Amy suddenly felt horrible. Oh god, she had even accused him of being 'fucking blind.' No wonder he didn't like her. She wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to talk to her again.

For some strange reason the thought of him hating her didn't sit right. She didn't want him to hate her. And since when did his opinion of her matter?!

"I didn't know!" she exclaimed. "How do you know?"

"Because I work in the organ donation branch at the new hospital, and his father has placed his name on the organ transplant list for a cornea transplant, though it's not labelled urgent at this point in time it's still something he will need to have. And with the now dramatically dwindled population, people donating their organs when they die is not on anyone's top priority list."

"So you're basically saying that the chances of him getting a cornea transplant before he goes blind are slim?"

Her mom nodded. "Possibly."

That would be so awful for him. He didn't deserve to have that happen to him.

"I feel bad now," she murmured.

She felt her mom place a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever you do don't tell him you know about it. I probably shouldn't have told you."

Amy nodded, feeling kind of wretched. She fought to hold onto her anger. Anger was good, it kept the deep ache in her heart at bay.

"It's not fair," she murmured.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. A cold chill swept over her. "It … isn't fair."

Her mom stroked her arm. "Amy, what is it?" Sudden concern laced her voice.

Amy felt tears fill her eyes.

"I-I … asked him about what it was like to be harnessed."

She couldn't even bring herself to look at her mom, she knew what she would see there, pity. How she hated any form of pity.

"Because of Lucy?"

Amy screwed her eyes shut. It still hurt so much when anyone mentioned her kid sister's name.

Swallowing back emotion, she said in a strained voice. "I just had to know."

She drew her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth. "I had to know what Lucy would have gone through."

Her throat ached with repressed tears. Memories she fought to keep at bay filtered through. Skitters, dragging her sister away whilst she cowered in the closet, too paralysed with fear to move. Lucy screaming her name over and over again. And she couldn't … she couldn't do … anything.

Her mom placed a hand on her back. "It's not your fault …"

A sudden fierce rage hit her. She angrily pushed her mom's arm away.

"Don't say that!" she yelled. "It's a lie! I killed her! You know I did! I let her outside and it's my fault she was taken! So don't you tell me otherwise!"

Amy drew further into herself, shutting out the world around her. A black hole opened in the pit of her stomach. She could feel herself falling into it.

"Honey … please just let me help you?"

No one could help her. She wasn't worthy to be saved.

The entire façade of her life had crashed down into fragments around her that fateful day, and there was no chance of the pieces fitting back together.

All that had once be fine in her had gone to rot.

All she had left was rage.


Ben quietly let himself into the house. Everyone appeared to have gone to bed. It was well past eleven.

He was just about to retire to his bedroom, when he saw his father sitting in an armchair. He'd nodded off, a book still open on his lap. No doubt he was waiting up for him to return home.

For a moment, Ben felt a bit bad. He didn't blame his dad for wanting to have a normal life, as much as possible, for his sons.

Only, he was never going to be normal. Not after everything he'd been through. Part of him missed the mental connection he had with the rebel Skitters, especially Red Eye. The sharing of thoughts and feelings without words was incredibly special. He couldn't even begin to explain it. It wasn't something he could have with a human.

He did spend quite a lot of his free time with the Volm. Conchise had been teaching him how to speak their language. Though there was no mental connection, Ben still felt a spiritual one. Culture, outside of his own, interested him in a way it probably wouldn't have if he'd never been harnessed.

However, family was still the most important thing to him.

Reaching out a hand, he touched his dad's shoulder and lightly gave him a shake. "Dad."

He dad woke up, startled for a moment, before his gaze rested on him.

"Ben," he began, running a hand through his hair. "You're back."

He looked relieved, and Ben felt a jerk for his behaviour earlier tonight.

"Yeah, look I'm sorry about before."

His father nodded. "It's been difficult for you."

He stood up. His warm gaze met with his. His dad's hand rested on his shoulder.

"I guess I just want you to have what I had at your age. For life to return to some sort of normalcy."

He didn't have the heart to tell his dad that wasn't going to happen for him. Hell, he taught half skitter kids, trying to help them adjust. Would they ever be able to walk down a street without people looking at them without fear or mistrust? That was his life now.

"I am happy doing what I'm doing," he spoke. "Teaching the kids gives me a lot of satisfaction."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." His dad gave an ironic smile. "Was once a teacher too."

Funny that. "Father like son, son like father." Anne was always saying about them.

His dad pulled him into a warm hug. "I am proud of you." He pulled back to look at him.

"Just don't forget you're still human too, and you need to have friends your own age to keep you grounded."

Well, that was interesting. Maybe his father had a point.

He nodded. "Okay."

His father ruffled his hair. "I'm off to bed."

Ben watched him leave. Family is what had kept him sane and grounded. He considered himself lucky to still have his brothers. They knew and understood him, but people his own age he couldn't bring himself to trust.

A sudden exhaustion took hold. Ben dragged himself off to bed. He fell asleep soon as his head hit the pillow, which was unusual for him. He felt perfectly content. It wouldn't last though, it never did.

.

.


.

.

A/N: I hope you all liked it. I love reviews as any fanfic writer does, so please post one. You don't have to be clever with it, any words with encouragement of some kind are always very much appreciated. You can even tell me what you like the most, or what you would like to see and I'll try to oblige.

Thanks for reading!

.

.