Cold tendrils of panic started creeping up his throat, curling around his esophagus and squeezing like constricting snakes and Spencer struggled to pull air into his lungs. He leaned against the sink and closed his eyes, willing the panic down. After a few minutes he was left feeling lightheaded and shaky but was no longer in danger of a full blown panic attack.

When he raised his head to look in the mirror his face was pale and a thin sheen of sweat was visible on his skin and he bent to quickly splash some water on his face.

He should go back out. To John. He knew this. He should end it now before things went any farther. A steadying breath did little to ease the tremble in his muscles but he stepped from the bathroom all the same.

John was still sitting on one end of the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table and eyes fixed firmly on the television. They had been watching a show about fancy cars and how to restore them and honestly Spencer had never been so bored in his life. Unfortunately, his lack of interest in what was happening on the TV left his mind free to conjure up all kinds of nasty reactions to Spencer's desire to break up.

He sat down stiffly beside John, staring straight ahead and trying to quiet the nauseous heaving of his stomach in anticipation of the impending conversation. And the subsequent blow up.

When John's calloused fingers were suddenly on his skin he jumped and looked over at his boyfriend with wide eyes

John's attention was on his neck and the tips of his fingers were lightly tracing the dark spattering of bruises.

Spencer's breath hitched in his throat, his whole body tensing. It was the first time John had acknowledge the damage he'd done with his own hands but his lover's face was unreadable, soft even.

"I guess I got a little carried away, huh?" Said John at length. His large hand left his skin and pushed up to tangle in the hair at the base of Spencer's neck.

Despite the high tension that had been thrumming through him a second ago, the young genius felt himself melting into the touch.

"How is your skin so soft?" John murmured in his ear. His tongue darted out to taste the skin at the nape of the slender man's neck and Spencer felt goosebumps explode across his body.

Perhaps John had simply gotten carried away. He'd always been dominant in bed, maybe this time he'd just not realized how hard he was being.

"I'm sorry, Spencer." John's hand moved down to settle on the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Spencer sighed, closing his eyes and leaning in towards the warm, firm body beside him. "S'ok."

He felt John's lips curve into a smile against his skin.

"You're so good to me, Spencer."

John's other hand pushed up under the thin t-shirt the genius had thrown on earlier, firmly stroking over his nipples, causing Spencer to gasp and involuntarily arch his back, his head rolling against the back of the couch.

"You're so good." The older man praised, now nipping along Spencer's jaw line. "So beautiful."

Spencer tried to keep his mind clear – he'd come out here to have a grown up conversation with his boyfriend about going their separate ways – but when John's calloused hand pushed under the waistband of his pants and firmly gripped his hardening cock any thoughts of talking dissolved in an instant. His hand circled loosely around John's wrist in encouragement as he pumped up and down, the feel of his large, hot hand around him sinfully good. He groaned when John pulled his cock free of his pants and instinctively spread his legs wider to give the man better access.

"Good boy." John praised.

He turned his face towards his lover's voice, feeling stubble tickle his nose, and nuzzled in to the side of his neck, taking a deep inhale and smelling leather and oil and cigarettes. It made his head spin.

John's strokes sped up, making Spencer's breath hitch, and when his hips started twitching in tiny circles to meet his boyfriend's hand a whimper escaped his throat. The heat was building low in his abdomen and his slender fingers left John's wrist to slide up and wrap around his bicep

Suddenly John's was gone and Spencer groaned at the loss of both heat and friction. He opened his eyes, looking around blearily and not understanding the abrupt absence of the warm body beside him in the fog of arousal.

But he found John still beside him and pulling on the hem of his tshirt, so Spencer obediently lifted his arms so that his shirt could be removed.

"Lay back." John instructed firmly, sounding much clearer of mind than his young lover.

His hand pressed high up on Spencer's chest, just under his neck, and a flash of memory from that morning exploded behind the slender man's eyes. Hands like iron shackles pinning him down and fucking him raw.

He shook the memory away. John had apologized and his touches now were firm but gentle.

John's fingers hooked under the waistband of his pants, quickly striping them, off and then those large hands were pushing his knees apart, tailing up the insides of his thighs and gripping the base of his cock. Spencer groaned, his muscles trembling in the wake of John's touches. When the tight head around his swollen member began a slow rhythm up and down, the young genius' back arched off the couch and whimpered, fire igniting in his belly.

"Look at you" John panted, his fist perfectly tight around Spencer's cock. "Legs spread for me...you can't even keep still."

It was true. Spencer's hips seemed to have a mind of their own, and were thrusting up into his lover's hand in gentle circles. Whenever John's grip tightened around him or twisted a certain way, his back would arch off the sofa and a constant stream of moans and whimpers were passing his lips without his permission.

He felt a slick finger swipe over his entrance and couldn't help but wince. John had been rough with him that morning and the pain of it still lingered.

"You're still a little swollen." He heard John mutter.

His hand withdrew and then reappeared dripping with lube and he pushed his finger past the ring of muscles without warning. Spencer hissed, instinctively trying to twist away from the pain.

"Shh, it's ok, baby." John murmured, stilling both hands. He kept a firm grip on the base of Spencer's cock and hooked his finger, pressing against Spencer's prostate and making him jerk and moan.

The younger man felt torn, dancing right on the edge of pleasure and pain and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. He felt the digit inside him hook again and a delicious spike of heat flared all through his lower body.

Maybe this wasn't so bad, he thought.

"Does that feel good?" John asked, his voice a low growl.

It was all Spencer could do to nod, fisting the cushion behind his head and biting his lip, trying to keep himself grounded.

John's finger pulled out and then returned with two digits pressing into him and the flare of pain was enough to snap Spencer out of his flare of arousal.

"Ah!" He gasped, his head lifting off the couch to look down and see where his boyfriend's hand rested between his legs. "John!"

The man pressed a kiss to the inside of the knee bend against the back of the couch and continued to slowly stretch his body.

"S'ok, Spencer. Just relax."

"It hurts." He pleaded. But then John was pumping his cock again and that odd sensation of pleasure and pain was leaving him confused. He wanted to thrust up into the hand around his dick and at the same time he wanted to twist away from the finger's inside him and he was left just panting, staring up at the ceiling while his body trembled on the edge of something he didn't really understand.

"Please!" Spencer cried when John's fist tightened around his cock and his fingers spread inside him.

"Please, what?" Taunted the other man.

"Please...please..." Spencer didn't know what he was begging for. Please stop? Please give me more? He didn't really know anymore.

He heard John groan; the sound was guttural as if it had rumbled all the way up from his toes. Then his hands were gone and he was being flipped around onto his stomach.

"On your knees." John ordered behind him, grabbing at Spencer's hips and lifting him up.

Spencer had barely even registered the change in position and the fact that there was no longer a warm hand around his aching member when he felt the head of John's cock pushing at his abused entrance.

"Ah, fuck!" He cried, blindly reaching behind him to press against his boyfriend's hip.

Pain seared through him and the line between pleasure and pain was no longer fine. John grabbed the hand that was pushing back at him and twisted it up behind his back with ease and continued to push into Spencer's body.

"You feel that, Spencer? My cock stretching you out?" John growled behind him.

He could do nothing but whimper, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. When John finally bottomed out, the scrape of denim against the back of his thighs was abrasive.

Spencer was shaking, his free hand clutching the pillows so hard he thought his fingers might break and he could feel John's above average size stretching his sore body. It was too soon. Too soon after the abuse he'd suffered just that morning and when he felt something warm trickling down one of his legs he hoped it was excess lube and not blood.

"John, please." He begged. "It hurts."

A soft, gentle kiss was placed between his shoulders and John's hands rubbed soothingly down his spine.

"You're doing so good, Spencer. I want you to feel me. I want to make sure that you never forget me."

The pain began to ebb the longer John remained still inside him and Spencer took deep breaths, willing it to go faster.

"I want to know that every time you sit down you'll be forced to think of my dick in your tight little hole."

The possessive words made him shiver involuntarily and his body clenched around John's cock, making them both groan for different reasons. And then John was reaching between his legs again, coaxing him back to full hardness now that the worst of the pain seemed to have passed.

He still didn't move as his hand pumped, waiting until Spencer was writhing on his cock before slowly pulling out and driving back it.

Within seconds he was back on the edge again; pleasure radiating from the hand between his legs and pain lancing through him with every thrust John made into his over sensitized hole and it wasn't long before Spencer was begging again for something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

His boyfriend kept him right on the edge for what seemed like an eternity, stopping when Spencer's hips started pumping on their own and clamping down around the base of his cock so that he couldn't come. He quickly lost track of time, his whole world condensing down into the two points where their bodies connected.

"Mine." John growled into his ear at some point, having leaned forward to press his still clothed chest to Reid's naked back.

His thrusts became erratic and shallow and he leaned back and grabbed the globes of Spencer's ass in each hand, making the younger man wail at the loss of friction. He felt John pull his cheeks apart, leaving him feeling incredibly exposed as the man pumped into him so hard that Spencer pitched forward and had to snap his hands out to catch himself

When John released inside him it was powerful. The muscular body body rigid behind him and Spencer was shocked when he felt some of the cum escape his body and trickle down the backs of his legs.

John was panting, his hands absently kneading Spencer's cheeks as he came down from the high.

But Spencer was still desperate for release. He'd been kept just at the edge of orgasm for so long that it was becoming painful and he lifted his hand to grab his own cock but before he could touch himself, John's hand wrapped firmly around him and started pumping brutally.

He was already so close to the edge, his cock swollen and red and leaking precum, that the abrupt and rough sweep of John's hand had him coming hard in just three strokes. One of them screamed – he was pretty sure it was himself – and then the edges of his vision were getting a little wobbly and he pitched forward onto the couch, John's weight heavy on his back, cock still nestled deep inside him.

He managed to make it to work on time the next day. Thankfully John had gone home after he'd recovered enough to pull himself out of Spencer's spent body.

Spencer only had one turtle neck. It was a thin, black material and wasn't exactly what he normally wore but it was the only thing he had that would hide the angry looking bruises around his neck and so he'd pulled it on that morning, knowing that his coworkers would notice that it was unusual for him but hoping they'd just ignore it. Morgan was a different story. He would instantly know Spencer had chosen to wear the shirt to deliberately hide the bruises around his neck but that was something Spencer was stubbornly refusing to deal with until he had to. There was no way around it. He knew Morgan wouldn't say anything to anyone and he'd rather deal with the elder agent's concerned looks than have to tell a lie to every one of his team members about what had happened to his neck.

Besides. They weren't stupid. There was only one way he could have gotten those kinds of bruises – wrapped all the way around his neck like that.

"Hey, boy wonder!" Garcia greeted him cheerfully when he entered the bull pan.

The sparkly tech was sitting on the edge of Prentiss' desk and both of them help a cup of steaming coffee in their hands.

He offered a smile, chucked his messenger bag onto his desk and bent to turn on his monitor.

"How are you feeling?" Emily asked, looking at him with mild concern. "You still look a little pale. You sure you're up to working?"

He nodded, making sure to smile again. The thought of going back to his apartment left him feeling a little sick. John could just come over whenever he wanted and Spencer was relatively sure that his body was just not ready to go another round with his insatiable boyfriend.

When he'd gone to shower that morning, he'd found small tracers of dried blood on the backs of his legs and had begun to panic. But after he washed it away there had seemed to be no indication that he was still bleeding and he'd breathed a sigh of relief.

It had still shaken him and he decided he needed to talk to John about being more gentle.

'Like he used to be.' Spencer found himself thinking.

He moved away from his desk and made a beeline for the coffee maker in the small kitchenette, glad when he spotted the fresh pot of coffee already made.

"Morning, Pretty boy."

Morgan's voice suddenly behind him made Spencer jump and he sloshed some of the scalding coffee he'd just poured over the edge of his cup and onto his hand. He hissed in pain, darting to the sink and thrusting his hand under the icy stream of water.

"Shit, sorry, man. Didn't mean to scare you." Morgan voice was apologetic.

"It's ok." He said, turning off the tap and shaking his hand out. The skin was a little red but it wasn't hurting anymore. When he turned around to face Morgan, he was surprised to see such a grave look on the man's handsome face.

"Morgan, I'm fine." He reiterated, holding his hand up as evidence.

The taller man was quiet for a moment and then reached out a hand and pulled down Spencer's turtle neck, exposing the dark bruises for a split second before the young genius jerked out of his reach, eyes wide and furious.

"What the hell are you doing?" He snarled, pushing the fabric back up around his neck and looking quickly around the room to make sure no one had seen.

But Garcia had retreated to her lair and Prentiss was studiously bent over the paper work on her desk and the knowledge that his secret was still safe eased the tightness in his chest and he released a shaky breath.

"You're fine, huh?" Morgan said, his dark eyes sharp.

Spencer said nothing and turned back to finish making his coffee, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end under Morgan's hard gaze.

"Spencer."

He wanted to ignore the other man, he really did, but the soft pleading tone had him turning to face his co-worker, feeling guilty.

For a moment, Morgan didn't say anything, just stared sadly down at him, his expression soft.

"Is someone hurting you?"

He opened his mouth and almost said no but decided he'd blatantly lied to Morgan enough over the last few days, shut his mouth and decided to say nothing. He picked up his coffee and went back to his desk, leaving Morgan standing at the counter.

As predicted, the other man followed him back to his desk, since they were side by side, so Spencer sat his coffee mug down on the wooden surface a little harder than necessary; a warning.

Morgan sighed but sat down in his own chair and Spencer followed suit.

However, when he dropped into his chair, pain shot up his spine and he actually cried out with the shock of it, startling both Prentiss and Morgan. He'd managed to push the events of yesterday out of his head until he'd sat down; the jolt of pain had taken him by surprise and he quickly tried to come up with a reason to ease the worried expressions he knew would be on his co-worker's faces.

Screwing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, Spencer waited for the pain to pass, his hands shaking and sweaty where they grabbed the arm rests.

"Reid?" He heard Prentiss ask.

He looked up and gave her a tight smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I just hurt my back and sort of forgot about it till just now."

One of her dark eyebrows arched. "You forgot something." She smirked.

"Stranger things have happened." He muttered.

When he dared sneak a glance at Morgan he was shocked to see the man's expression was pinched with anger and he subconsciously leaned back into his chair, his heart beginning to pound against his ribs. Only when the larger man pushed away from his desk and stormed off down the hall and out of sight did Spencer finally feel the tension leave him.

It struck him as odd. He'd never been intimidated by Morgan before but when he saw that angry look on his face his heart had leapt into his throat. Though he supposed it wasn't that strange. Morgan was a scary dude when he was mad.

The day passed uneventfully after that. Reid went out of his way to avoid Morgan but it seemed Morgan was doing the same, for he only saw him twice, and even then, Morgan's eyes were hard when they met Spencer's. He supposed he had it coming. Derek didn't like it when Spencer didn't answer his questions and for some reason that the young genius had yet to figure out, Morgan had it stuck in his head that Reid was a little kid that needed protecting and supervising. When he was denied his urge to get involved, Derek's first response was usually anger.

When he got home that night it was to a blissfully empty apartment. In fact, he didn't hear from John for another three days and that night, Spencer had reluctantly accepted an invitation to go to the bar with his team – it was Friday night after all – and was sitting at a small table wedged between Garcia and JJ and listening to Rossi tell some story about his shady dealings in the past.

He'd bought turtle necks and had worn them the last three days in a row. If anyone thought it was strange, they didn't say anything. He supposed in a time like this his 'eccentric' personality was doing him a favour. Just another weird thing to his team mates.

Everything was going fine until Spencer felt his cell phone vibrating against his leg. He shifted to pull it from his pocket and saw 'John' flashing on the screen.

His stomach dropped through the floor and he knew there was no way he'd make it outside before the phone stopped ringing and he wondered what was worse: missing the call or John hearing the loud music and laughing people in the background. He'd instantly know that he was at a bar.

With JJ and Garcia absorbed in Rossi's story, Spencer knew there was no way to escape outside in time so, taking a deep breath, he jabbed the answer button with his thumb and brought the phone to his ear.

"John?"

"I'm at your place. You're not here." The man's tone was accusing, as if he was angry Spencer hadn't been able to read his mind and know he was coming over.

"You never said you were coming over." He said defensively, sticking his finger in his ear to block out some of the noise.

"Are you at a club?" John asked incredulously. It was easy to hear the beginnings of anger forming in his voice.

"No! I-I'm at a bar with my coworkers." He stammered, practically able to hear the anger seeping through the phone.

"Get your ass home. Now." John growled into the phone and Spencer drew a shaky breath. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

"I can't just -"

"I said come home now."

The line went dead and he stared down at his phone incredulously. John was sitting in his apartment right now, fuming and likely getting angrier and angrier with every passing second. If he went to him now would he want to have sex? Would he scream and yell and throw things again?

It seemed likely.

He didn't want to go home. He didn't want to deal with his boyfriend's temper. He was still healing from the last time John had taken him and he didn't think he could do it again so soon and not have to go to the hospital afterwards. But he was left with little other option. What was he going to do? Stay in a hotel for the night?

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. When he looked up, he met Morgan's gaze across the table and sat up a little straighter, suddenly aware that his body language was likely broadcasting how miserable he was. Luckily, Garcia had left her seat to go get them more drinks and JJ was talking to Emily and no one else seemed to notice.

He blinked owlishly across the table at Derek. He could ask to stay at Morgan's tonight. It wasn't totally unusual for him to spend the night at his place after he had too much to drink on one of these outings.

Of course if John ever found out...

'I can't go home when he's like this.' Spencer told himself, twirling the phone in his hands. 'He'd lose control again.'

He slipped out of the booth and went around to stand by Morgan, the man's weighted gaze following him as he went. He leaned in and yelled over the music.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Derek was out of his seat before he even finished asking and Spencer led him out a back door. There were a few people milling around the alley, chatting and smoking but otherwise ignoring the two men that had just left the bar.

"What's going on?" Margan asked right away.

Spencer swallowed nervously, "Can I...is it ok if I stay at your place tonight?"

Derek's expression softened. "Sure thing, Pretty Boy. Everything ok?"

It was asked casually enough but it was easy to see the underlying sincerity behind the words. Spencer wasn't stupid, he knew Morgan was worried about him but something was telling him that confessing about his relationship issues was likely going to make things even worse for him. So he kept his mouth shut. He was an adult and he could deal with this on his own.

"Everything is fine." He lied.

Morgan nodded as if he'd expected that answer and then placed his large hand on Spencer's slim shoulder.

"Just know that you can always talk to me. About anything."

He smiled, his stomach flipping strangely.

By the time they got back to Derek's house, Spencer had three missed calls and four text messages from John. The texts were simply demands on his whereabouts and he assumed the three voice mails were the same.

He ignored them all, setting his phone down on the kitchen table while Morgan puttered around making coffee.

He needed to not talk to John for a while longer. He needed time to process and, normally, he processed things at lightning speed but this was new territory for him and he was flying blind. He didn't have much experience in the way of relationships but he knew enough from reading that what was happening between him and John was not healthy and not normal.

John was becoming alarmingly possessive and confusingly contradictory in his behaviours. Praising him while causing him pain. His touch with one hand loving while the other was brutal. Apologizing for losing his temper and then losing it again anyway. It was very, very confusing

He hoped that by not running when John called that maybe...maybe...

He sighed and pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Why was he even struggling with this? He didn't love John, it should be easy for him to break it off. But it was like pleasure and pain and it was strange but intoxicating and -

"Hey, kid, you still with me?"

His head snapped up, black spots dancing in his peripheral vision, and saw that Morgan was sitting across from him and there was a mug of coffee on the table in front of him.

"Yeah. Thanks." He mumbled, pulling the mug towards him.

"So you gonna tell me what's going on or are we still pretending everything is fine?" Morgan asked casually, sipping his coffee.

"We're pretending everything is fine." He snapped, glaring over the rim of his mug.

Though there was no point in pretending anymore. Not with Morgan. He knew something was going on and he wasn't about to insult his intelligence by making up some ridiculous excuse like 'Oh, yeah I fell' to explain his bruises. But there was a fine line between admitting he had some issues going on in his personal life and burdening his friend with the details.

Morgan held up his hand in a placating gesture but he looked disappointed and it tugged at Spencer's heart. He felt guilty.

"Fine. I know you're an adult and can make your own decisions but," His voice and eyes softened as he stared across the table at the slight man, "If you find yourself mixed up in something, if you get in too deep, you'll call me, right?"

Mixed up in something? Spencer frowned. Did Morgan think he was getting mixed up in drugs again? Associating with bad people? His stomach lurched and he suddenly was faced with an intense desire to set the record straight but he held his tongue and nodded, happy that it at least managed to make Morgan relax a little.

They finished their coffee in silence and then Spencer rose to follow Morgan upstairs to the spare bedroom. It wasn't the first time he'd spent the night at Morgan's but it was the first time it had been under such shitty circumstances. He hoped to not make a habit of spending the night here because he was scared to go home to his boyfriend.

"Thank you, Derek." He said, turning to face the taller man where he stood the doorway.

Morgan said nothing, but his eyes dropped to the high collar of his turtle neck and he took a few steps into the room until he was standing right in front of Spencer. He reached up and gently slipped his finger under the edge of the fabric, intent on pulling it down but Spencer leaned back, his gaze wary.

"Please?" Morgan asked quietly, his hand still held aloft. "I just want to make sure you're ok."

With a sigh, Spencer gave a short nod, knowing that Derek wouldn't give up until he got what he wanted.

Derek's fingers were rough against his skin and the dry drag of his calloused hand on his neck sent a shiver down his spine that Spencer desperately tried to hide. Luckily, Morgan seemed to be entirely focused on examining the bruising around his neck and didn't notice

That had been strange. Usually he only felt like that when John touched him...

That was something to think about later because Morgan's frown was deepening like he was trying to work out a puzzle and then his long fingers were slipping around his neck like he intended to choke and Spencer recoiled with a gasp, memories of John's hand around his neck, squeezing until he couldn't breath, were suddenly forefront in his mind.

He looked up at Morgan with wide eyes, telling himself that he must have misinterpreted the action. Morgan would never hurt him, never touch him like John did. Right?

"Reid..." Morgan trailed off before he even got started, his expression stricken like someone had just slapped him across the face. He licked his lips and looked up again. "Reid, did someone choke you?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. Morgan hadn't been trying to grab him, he'd just been placing his own hand over the marks on his neck.

"Look, uh," Spencer nervously ran a hand down his front, eyes darting around the room, unable to meet the other man's gaze, "I'm pretty tired. I really just want to get some sleep."

Morgan was nodding slowly, as if wrestling with himself on whether or not to push the conversation. "Ok." He said eventually. "Get some sleep and we'll swing by your place tomorrow morning so you can get a change of clothes and then maybe we'll get some breakfast."

"Thank you." He breathed out. He was too tired to even think about what he might do if John was still there tomorrow morning. For now he just wanted to sleep

He quickly changed into the pair of drawstring bottoms and tshirt that used to be Morgan's but had somehow become Spencer's after all the times he'd slept in them. When his head hit the pillow he was out cold in minutes.

Derek went back to the kitchen after Reid closed the bedroom door and found himself staring at the kid's phone where he'd left it sitting at the island counter. He could see that there was three missed calls and a couple text messages from a guy named John and for a few moments Derek wrestled with himself.

Should he look?

On the one hand, it was an incredibly terrible breach of trust and right now he was trying to get Spencer to confide in him. On the other hand, the guy was clearly in some kind of trouble and whatever was on the phone would likely answer a lot of his questions.

In the end, Derek set the phone back down on the marble counter. Snooping through his phone was not that way to get Spencer to trust him.

He was just about to head upstairs and go to bed himself when the phone suddenly started vibrating. He picked it up again and, surprise surprise, it was John calling.

Derek bit his lip. Going through the phone was one thing but answering a call was surely harmless? After all, the dude obviously had something to say to Reid, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't at least offer to pass on a message? Maybe it was something important.

He hit the green button and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

There was a beat of silence and then a man's voice was purring dangerously in his ear.

"Where is Spencer?"

The hairs on the back of Derek's neck stood on end and his eyes narrowed to slits. Whoever this guy was, he was bad news. It was obvious that John was harassing Reid. Did the kid owe him money? God, what had Spencer gotten himself mixed up in?

"Who wants to know?" He snapped, not bothering to hide his anger.

There was an indignant pause before John snapped back, the words whipping out from behind his teeth and slapping Derek right in the face.

"I'm his boyfriend ."

Boom! Another chapter. Uh, I kind of struggled with the pacing of this one so let me know what you think, yeah?