A/N: Sorry for being a day late. I had this done on Friday, but it still needed to be beta'd and I didn't get the edited version until this morning. My apologies.
First part can be considered filler by some. I don't think it is, but that's me...Thank you so much for all the reviews and favorites! Enjoy this chapter!

J'onn disappeared right after that. Clark drove himself home and was dismayed to find that J'onn was not there. Ma told Clark in a low voice that J'onn had returned without him just to gather the few belongings he had brought with him and thank Ma and Pa for letting him intrude on such a occasion before leaving.

Clark had sunk into the wall in momentary self-loathing and a desperate want to take back his words and actions from just ten minutes ago. Why did they even go to see Jack and Harley? What in the hell had they hoped to achieve? Clark sighed, running a tired hand over his face. He would go see if J'onn was in the warehouse the next morning, but first he needed to tell Bruce what had happened. But, later. . . Clark was exhausted and angry and confused as to why J'onn would erase a person's mind like that without asking Clark about it. It was. . .

Injustice.

Steve left Diana in the snow, and she stood there, frozen with shock and cold, more and more tears making their way down her face one by one. At another time, she would have laughed at the thought of her standing there in mismatched pajamas and slippers, but now, she felt only misery. Steve, loveable, funny, sweet Steve, was gone. Diana had hoped that, through all of her mistakes, through all of her errors, he would still be there, as friend. But, such dreams only came true in fairy tales.

Dimly, she felt her feet turn and began a slow stumble back to the house. She opened the door with numb fingers. Heard Donna's blabbering apologies, but did not respond. Saw Clark's confused and hurt face, but did not stop to explain. Felt J'onn's hardened gaze pierce her body, but did not, could not, face him. She just kept walking. Up the stairs, down the hall, and stopped in Steve's abandoned room. He had left the door ajar. The light in the room was still on, and the blue comforter on the bed was rumpled. Her phone lay amid its folds, screen lighting up with messages from Wally no doubt. And on the bedside table, was a large present wrapped in red and tied with a gold shimmering ribbon. Red and gold. . . Red was Steve's favorite color and gold was hers. Red and gold. . .

Her fingers trembled as she undid the ribbon and delicately removed the wrapping paper. Inside the box was another box. Steve was always doing this gag. Her last three birthday presents had all been at least four boxes within larger boxes, the most recent starting out larger than her forearm, and ending with an envelope containing tickets to the sold out The Civil Wars concert at Madison Square Garden.

This gift had five boxes inside it, until at last she came to a cream white envelope addressed to her and a blue velvet ring box. Barely breathing, she opened the envelope and pulled out a small notecard, Steve's hasty writing all over it.

Dearest Diana,

Don't worry, I'm not proposing. At least not yet.

I know I'm not perfect, and you are far too good for me, but here we are, together. What has it been, four years since we first got together? God, it feels like it's been so much longer. These last few months have been hard for me to be without you. Not a day goes by when I don't wish I was right next to you constantly. I hope you think of me as well.

I said I wasn't proposing, and I'm not. But this IS a ring. This is something better than marriage (at least for us at this time). This, this is a promise. A promise to always be there for you, to always be fateful, and to always put you first in my life. I love you Diana Prince, I really do.

So, what do you think, babe?

Diana nearly broke down again right there and then. But, Diana wasn't much of crier, and she had cried all the tears her body would give. She picked up the small velvet box with hesitant fingers and flipped it open. Inside, nestled among silk, was a silver ring adorned with a single ruby. It must have cost Steve a fortune. . . Diana pushed the thought away. No point thinking about things she didn't want to know about.

Her phone buzzed again and Diana instinctively reached for it.

Damn, it's from Steve…

She tapped the screen to read the message and two words appeared on the display.

"Forget it."

And Diana cracked. She fell against the bed, sobbing as she balled the comforter in her hands. God, she had been so stupid. So damn full of pride. Her mother had told her that her pride would be a problem, just like it was to her father. Diana couldn't even tell one of her closest allies she no longer had romantic feelings for him. She had never wanted to hurt Steve. She just hadn't thought about his feelings. She wasn't angry with him; she didn't blame anything on him. The fault was hers and hers alone. She felt emotions bubble up inside of her, along with another angry wail. Embarrassment, sadness and the smallest amount of relief. Was that wrong of her to be a little happy Steve was gone? Now, that embarrassment and sadness was replaced with something else. . .

Regret.

Bruce sank into the ornate chair next to his bed, cell phone held loosely in his hands. His ears were ringing with what Clark had just told him. J'onn had taken memories from Jack and Harley. He had taken their memories. In all other situations, Bruce would have instantly decreed an action such as this as immoral and wrong. But in this situation. . . Jack and Harley would have no doubt made their lives individual hells if they had continue to know J'onn's origins. This is was probably for the better. But it didn't make it right.

Bruce wondered what had pushed J'onn to that edge. The mild mannered Martian did not strike Bruce as the type of person to invade someone's mind such as this. So what had been his motivation? Fear? Anger? The feeling that he was infinitely more powerful than the insects he surrounded himself with? He could kill them all in a heartbeat. Put them all in a catatonic state or telepathically break every bone in their bodies or rip their hearts from their chests with a mere thought. . . The possibilities were endless.

Bruce had been pushed to the edge of that abyss only once in his life. He was fifteen. Joe Chill, the man who had murdered Bruce's parents, was being granted parole due to him trading information about Gotham's biggest crime lord, Carmine Falcone. That murderer was going to walk free and Bruce was going to kill him. He would have, Bruce has no doubt of that. The gun was in his pocket; he was fingering the handle slowly as he watched Chill not ten feet from him. But someone beat him too it. One minute Chill was exiting the court house, and the next he was lying in the streets with a bullet in his head. Bruce had stood over the bloody mess, his own body numb and the gun feeling like a thousand pounds in his pocket. That day, he vowed never again to even touch a gun.

Anger. Guilt. Fear. Those were the things that motivated people to do things. Not love or compassion. More...embarrassment. Terror.

Rage.

Clark went to the warehouse the next morning, only to find J'onn was not there. J'onn did not resurface for the rest of the holidays. After a week of looking and trying to find ways to contact him, Clark gave up and hoped that J'onn would come back on his own.

On the ninth of January, school started back up for the second semester. It was still brutally cold and the bright, fluffy snow had turned to sleet and ice. Diana's breath came out in puffs as she hurried across the parking lot along with her peers, all equally bundled up in scarves and sweaters as they exchanged stories through chattering teeth.

Diana slipped into first period Enviormental Science a few seconds before the bell rang. She exchanged a look with Clark, who was on the opposite side of the classroom with Lois leaning against him as she read a copy of the school's newspaper, The Chesterfield Review. He smiled surpringsly warmly at her, before nudging Lois off of him and turning away from Diana. Diana sighed and reached into her bag for her books, when a voice interrupted her.

"Hello, Diana."

"What?" Diana nearly banged her head on the underside of the desk as she came up. "J'onn? What-how-why-?"

J'onn chuckled. "Nice to see you as well."

"J'onn. . . Where the hell have you been? Clark looked everywhere for you!" Diana hissed as Ms. Isley stalked into the room and began to take roll.

"I made amends with Clark this morning." J'onn removed his books from his back and placed them neatly on his desk. "I was hoping to meet with everyone else this afternoon to clear some things up."

Diana eyed him suspiciously. "Fine," she eventually said. "Wayne Manor. After school."

J'onn nodded and turned away. "Thank you."

"What the hell J'onn?"

"You mind erased Jack?"

""Yea, what's the matter with you?"

"And Harley?"

"Why in earth would you do that?"

"Why can't I mind erase people?"

"Shut up Wally and let the Martian explain himself."

"Oh my god, fine! Sheesh, Clark, you're grumpy today. Lois, maybe you and him need to do a little-"

"That's enough!" Clark interrupted loudly, eyes widening and sending terrified looks towards a suddenly sly looking Lois on his lap.

J'onn cleared his throat slightly. Every head in the room turned to him, save for Bruce, who was sitting stock still in the corner, detached from the main group.

"I just want to apologize for the extreme stress and anger I've caused for you all in these past few weeks," J'onn began. "I realize now that my methods are not necessarily approved by the people of Earth. However, I believe-"

"It was necessary."

Now all eyes moved to Bruce, who had spoken for the first time since they had gathered at Wayne Manor. Bruce stood up from his chair and faced the room.

"It was necessary," he repeated, eyes unusually bright. Swallowing, Bruce looked away, before abruptly leaving the room. He hesitated next to where Clark sat on the velvet couch, tapped him on the shoulder and then left, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Excuse me." Clark smiled apologetically. He moved a mildly protesting Lois off his lap, kissed her on the cheek and followed Bruce out of the room.

"What-?" Diana asked but Lois cut her off.

"Let them go," Lois said, eyes tracking Clark's path out of the room. "They'll be back soon."

"Well, I for one am not okay with this," Wally said sourly, digging a pack of skittles from out of his coat pocket. "Not okay at all."

"It doesn't really matter if you're okay with it or not," John said, crossing his arms over his chest. "What's done is done; you can't change it. You can walk out of here if you want."

"No, you cannot just walk out!" Lois said, sounding outraged. "Wally is a part of this no matter what he thinks! He doesn't have to agree with all of J'onn's actions, but he can't just walk away! Right, Selina?" She looked towards the ebony haired girl in the back of the group.

"Don't drag me into this," Selina said, examining her red nails with a critical eye.

"Well, you've got to have an opinion," Lois said flatly. "Everyone has one."

Selina stooped and picked up her leather clutch and buttoned up her coat. "Personally, I don't care what the idiot does. He's not my friend." She began to exit the room.

"Hey, where are you going?" Lois shouted, temper heating up.

"Tell Bruce I got bored and left."

Now it was just John, Wally, Diana, Lois and J'onn in the room. Wally was looking extremely hurt as he gazed after Selina, Lois was outraged , while John and Diana were left standing awkwardly to the side, eyes downcast. J'onn was reduced to lifting up various statues and books around the room one at a time, until Alfred popped his head in and offered them a tray of scones.

Alfred seemed to pick up on the awkwardness of the situation and made small talk about school, the holidays, exams, anything but J'onn's recent actions. Diana noticed Lois kept stealing glances at the door, as if she was waiting for Clark to walk back in, but he never did.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," Diana snapped. "I'm going up there!"

"No, Diana!" Lois warned, looking up from her blueberry scone. "They don't like to be interrupted!" But Diana ignored her.

"Fine! Do what you want!" Lois yelled after her. "They're probably at the first door on the left at the top of the stairs!"

"Which stairs? There are like five different sets of stairs here!"

"The one farthest from you!"

Diana stomped up the marble stairs, her only intent to drag the two boys back to the drawing room and clean up the remnants of this mess they were in. Once she reached the stairs, she wrenched the door on her right open and stormed inside. Instantly, she stopped dead and stood, frozen at the scene in front of her.

Clark and Bruce were sitting on a pull out bed, legs outreached before them. A purple throw blanket was tucked neatly around Clark's body and a pillow was in his lap. On this pillow rested one of Bruce's bare feet. In Clark's hand was a bottle of lemon scented moisturizer and his hands were frozen in the action of massaging Bruce's feet. Said owner of the feet was wearing a blue snuggie and had a bag of popcorn on his chest. Diana's eyes moved from the two to around the room. The room was bare; the only light in the dim room came from the TV, which was showing a muted Lion King. As she watched, an animated lion silently pranced around the screen with a red warthog and a meerkat.

"What the hell?" Diana said weakly.

"What?" Both boys asked nonchalantly.

"This is what you do when you just…leave?"

"Um, yea.." Clark exchanged a look with Bruce. "What'd you think we were doing?"

"Everyone says you two have been, I dunno, sleeping together since the seventh grade!" Diana burst out.

Immediately, Clark burst out laughing. Between his peals of laughter, he gasped out "You do know everyone knows that we just watch Disney movies up here, right? They've known since Wally walked in on us watching Bambi a few years ago!"

At that moment, Diana felt incredibly stupid. Of course they hadn't been sleeping together. She didn't know why she ever considered that. Maybe it was just cause everyone said it was true. . .

"Hey, we're out of popcorn," Bruce muttered, holding up the bag as proof.

Clark sighed. "'Kay, I'll go make some more." He shoved Bruce's foot off his lap and snatched the bag from his hands. As he passed Diana he murmured, "He's still feeling sort of bad. Don't make him angry." He shut the door quietly behind him and Diana was left alone with Bruce on the couch, still wrapped in his snuggie.

"So," Diana said after an awkward pause. "You like Disney movies?"

"No."

"Then why are you watching one?" Diana said, exasperated.

"Clark really likes Simba."

Diana looked at him for a moment. Enveloped in the snuggie, with one bare foot still resting where Clark had dumped it and popcorn flakes stuck in his hair, Diana had to admit, Bruce looked a little pathetic.

"Really?" Diana asked as she gently made her way to sit down in Clark's abandoned spot. "Clark likes Simba a lot? Clark?"

Bruce was unresponsive.

"Bruce, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Bruce you don't have to lie-"

"Nothing Diana!" Bruce snapped, tearing his eyes off the still muted TV for the first time in minutes.

"Oh my god." Diana sighed. "You cannot keep shutting people out like this. You need to talk to someone! If not me, then at least Selina!"

"Selina is wonderful but absolute crap at understanding feelings other than her own," Bruce retorted. "Now, Clark just played therapist with me for half an hour, so there. I have talked to someone."

They now faded into an uneasy silence as Bruce resumed a deadpan stare at the characters dancing silently across the screen of the TV. Diana was just about to open her mouth to excuse herself when Bruce spoke.

"What do you think about this whole situation?"

Diana was taken aback. "What-?"

"I think it was completely necessary for J'onn to erase Jack and Harley's minds. But, still. At the same time I hate it." Bruce shuddered. "It's a horrible thought. To think, J'onn has the ability to search someone's mind and remove memories. It's almost like he's removing a part of them along with the thoughts and feelings of Jack and Harley."

Diana was frozen, looking at Bruce with her mouth slightly open.

"I'm no fan of Jack to be sure," Bruce whispered, drawing his feet to his chest. "Right when I switched to Chesterfield - I was fourteen - I came across Jack in an alleyway alone. As I watched from the shadows, I watched him light a cat on fire. I called the police, and they came to pick him up, but he saw me. That day I saw that evil doesn't just exist in drug lords or pimps or men with guns that take lives away right in front of your eyes. It exists in kids. In Jack. He's evil, Diana, I can just feel it! He needs to be shut away before he does something that he can never take back. But even then, I would never, never, wish what J'onn did to him." He drew a shuddering breath before plunging on, seemingly unable to stop. "J'onn has the power to change the world, if he wanted. He could bring the world together or rip in to shreds. It makes me think. . . He's dangerous, there's no question. A ticking time bomb. We only know what he's told us, but do we even know if that's true? He could be something completely different than we think." He shook his head. "All of this…speculation, guessing without knowing for sure. . . I don't like it."

Diana bit her lip as she processed this. "I think," she began slowly. "That J'onn would never do that sort of stuff. And even if he did, we would stop him."

"No, we wouldn't."

Diana frowned. "What do you mean? Of course we would."

"You tell me one way we could stop him and I'll believe you," Bruce snapped. "He would render everyone unconscious immediately, or rip us all limb from limb in an instant. I've gone over every scenario I can think of. Every way, we lose. And if there are Martians that survived the rebellion still on Mars, what's to say they couldn't come here? We are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned. We would all die and there's nothing to stop it."

"What about J'onn's vulnerability to fire?" Diana asked, but Bruce waved her off.

"The only people who know about that are those that were at the warehouse, and if J'onn is smart, he'd kill us first. Unless the government discovered it by accident, they would be blind." Bruce's phone on the foot of the bed lit up. Bruce reached for it and looked at it uninterestedly. "Selina wants me to go shopping with her." He untangled himself from the snuggie and stood. "Tell everyone to get out of my house, including you. I don't want Lois or Wally to accidentally light the kitchen on fire, and Clark and I can finish the movie later."

"So that's it?" Diana asked quietly.

Bruce pasued, hand on the doorknob. "That's what?"

"You don't trust J'onn? End of story?"

"Oh please," Bruce muttered sardonically. "I don't trust anyone." He left the door ajar behind him and after a moment, Diana exited the room after him.

Black shoes clack on the hall as the tall, bald man strode confidently down the halls of Chesterfield High School with his various assistants and Principal Waller hurrying to keep up behind him.

"Superintendent, can you please slow down?" Waller puffed, putting a hand to her breast as she jogged to stay at the man's direct right.

"What period are the students in?" Lex Luthor asked, ignoring her request as he surveyed the spotless halls.

"Fourth. They just got out of lunch," Waller said, wiping her forehead with a hand.

"Excellent." Luthor nodded. "This is Advanced Placement English Literature and Composition, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"Lovely. Shall we?" He gestured to the door. Waller gave him a look, before opening the door for him.

The class was quiet; its students all hunched over books and scribbling notes down every once and a while. A few of the students who had finished were talking quietly amongst themselves. A slightly larger group near the back caught Luthor's attention first. One dark skinned boy and a ebony haired girl were sitting at a desk, while a black haired boy with his back to him was talking to him. Another boy was sitting in the double desk in front of them and reading a large, extremely old looking book, occasionally saying something to the group with a scathing look on his face. Luthor instantly put a name to the face. Bruce Wayne. Wayne's most recent comment made the boy who was standing laugh out loud. He turned around to get someone from the desk behind him and Luthor caught sight of high cheekbones, a cleft chin and blinding blue eyes. Clark Kent. Luthor's insides shriveled up and his own eyes narrowed with contempt.

Kent turned around again, still grinning far too optimistically for Luthor's liking. Wayne looked up as Kent rejoined the group and caught sight of Luthor. His face hardened and he quietly leaned over to whisper something to the group of three. Immediately, the cluster froze, then Kent leapt into the seat next to Wayne and the girl and dark boy looked down at their books with forced interest.

Pathetic little insects.

"Kent!" Luthor barked, making the small teacher at the white board jump.

Said boy looked up and forced a bright smile. "Hi, Superintendent Luthor. How are you?"

"Nobody likes a brown nose, Kent!" Luthor barked. He made his way to his desk, rudely bumping into students and chairs alike, not even bothering to apologize. "Carry on, Jervis," he called to Tetch, who jumped again and hurriedly began writing vocabulary on the board.

"What are you up to, Kent?" Luthor asked through an extremely fake smile.

"Haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about," Clark sniffed, flipping through his book one page at a time.

Luthor stifled a snort. "Of course you don't." He eyed the two students behind Clark. "I know Wayne, but who are you two?"

The girl spoke up first. "I'm Diana Prince. And this is John Jones."

"There are a lot of Johns in this grade, but I remember you," Luthor said, extending a hand towards both of them. "The transfer student from Canada, right?"

John nodded, hesitantly reaching out to grab his hand. "That's right."

"I've been to Canada several times. What part of Canada are you from?" Luthor asked, genuinely interested.

The change was instant. John immediately froze up and his mouth opened and closed several times without making so much as a word.

Lex Luthor was not known for his patience. His forehead wrinkled as he stared John down. "What part of Canada are you from?"

"Toronto." Bruce said from next to Clark. John nodded energetically at that statement, visibly relaxing just a bit.

"Ah," Luthor said, now a bit suspicious. "How is the Toronto Zoo? I hear it's fanastic. Have you gone?"

John blanched. "The…zoo?"

Luckily, Luthor's next question was cut off by Tetch's exclamation of "Napier, are you even reading?"

Every head in the class, including Luthor and his associates huddled near the door, revolved to stare at the brown haired boy at the front of the class. Jack was huddled over a ratty cover of Alice in Wonderland, but was staring at the wall with a blank look.

"Napier?" Tetch repeated. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Jack said with confusion evident in his voice. "I just feel like there was something I wanted to say to Luthor, but I can't remember." He shook his head and his expression cleared. "Well, I'm out of here," he said briskly. "If I remember it, I'll be back, Super-intend-ent." He drawled out the last word before getting out of his desk, walking over to the window and jumping out of it onto the ground just a story below.

"Hey, hey you!" Luthor shouted, darting to the window, but Jack was gone. "What the -? Tetch, Waller, what is the meaning of this?"

"You get used to it," Tetch told him seriously as Waller said, "We'll find him."

Luthor groaned, mind drifting to the warm shower that awaited him at his mansion.

Just a few more hours, Lex, come on. That bottle will still be in the cabinet when you finish, just suck it up!

Luthor turned back to Clark and Bruce and was surprised to see the previous slightly awkward atmosphere of the group had changed dramatically. Bruce had gone rigid in his chair and Clark was sending him nervous looks, while every so often glancing not-so-subtly behind him at John. John's eyes were fixed on the window Jack had just jumped out of with an expression of astonishment and Diana was looking at anything but John. All four looked extremely guilty to be frank.

"Do you four know something that I need to hear?" Luthor asked in a low voice.

"No," Clark said instantly, facing Luthor with a scowl.

"Kent, I recommend you watch your tone with me. Remember last time you lost your temper? Wouldn't want to disappoint your mother again," Luthor said shrewdly.

Clark's furious retort was cut off by the ringing of the bell. Trembling with anger, he snatched his books up and was the first out of the door. Bruce and Diana followed quickly as well with John right behind them, the third still looking mildly horrified.

Luthor remained in the room even as the next class began to file in and his assistants hovered impatiently by the door. Try as he might, he could not shake the four's expressions of complete and utter guilt as they stared after Jack Napier.

That evening, after Luthor finished up his yearly check of Chesterfield High, he popped open a bottle of wine and poured himself a generous amount before sinking into his desk chair. He swiveled and stared out of the large windows in his office that overlooked Gotham City. The city's illuminated skyscrapers stood out harshly against the dark sky and large police blimps cruised past his building, spot lines scanning the ground below for criminal activity. Dimly, Luthor heard police sirens begin to wail throughout the city, but he did not care. His mind was, for some reason, fixed on the uneasy feeling he had gotten in that fourth period AP English Literature and Composition class. Jones face. . . It unnerved him to no end.

He pivoted in his chair to face the desk again and leaned forward to press a button on his phone and said, "Charlotte, is Mercy still out there?"

"Yes, Mr. Luthor, she is. She's just about to leave."

"Send her in." Luthor released the button and relaxed in his chair again.

The doors to his expansive office opened and a tall, brown haired girl entered.

"Yes, Mr. Luthor?" She asked, closing the door and approaching him with the air of someone who is very confident in her actions.

"Mercy, you are in your senior year at Chesterfield High, correct? The one right outside of Gotham?" Luthor questioned, not looking at the girl.

"Yes," Mercy said, now looking confused. "Why?"

Lex stood from behind his desk. "Would you mind doing a little, ah, project for me? Consider it part of your internship."

Mercy instantly looked more interested. "What kind of project?"

"Excellent." Luthor rounded the desk and sidled up next to the girl. "Clark Kent is up to something with John Jones and Bruce Wayne. Find out what it is."

"Any reason why you're interested in them?" Mercy asked.

Luthor reached out to gently play with a piece of Mercy's hair. "I don't trust Kent in the slightest. Not since. . . " He trailed off and let go of her hair abrubtly.

"Since what?"

"Never you mind, my dear," Luthor purred. "Oh, look at the time!" He exclaimed. "You really should be off, shouldn't you? Gotham is dangerous at night and we wouldn't want you getting hurt."

Mercy blushed and shyly ducked her head. "Of course...Lex. I won't fail you," she murmured. "I promise."

"I don't doubt it." Luthor smiled coyly. "Go on now."

Mercy smiled back , before turning and exiting the room quickly. Luthor watched her leave, then crossed back over to his desk and slouched back into his chair. With one hand he loosened his tie ad with the other he poured some more wine into his glass. Mercy was a nice girl, naïve, but sweet. She was utterly devoted to Lex and would most likely lay down her life for him. Perhaps that's what made her such a good undercover agent. No matter what happened, she would always come to his aid. He almost regretted the fact she was a high school intern.

Oh well…

At least now he could find out what those damned kids were up to. He took a sip of his wine and faced the city again. He sat there for a while, drinking the bottle of wine and another one after that, not caring as the sirens outside grew in number and volume. The police blimp hovering over his building swiveled and began heading north. In the distance, Lex could see a fiery orange light shining against the Gotham horizon and the apparent source of the commotion. Gotham City could have burned down at that very moment, but Lex Luthor was so consumed in his wine and thoughts that he would never have cared.

A/N: I know what you're thinking. Mercy and Lex, gross. It'll come into play later, I promise. And as for the end, I imagine Lex being a pretty heavy drinker. I don't know why, I just do. It's a headcanon of mine. Blegh.

Okay, PLEASE READ THIS PART. I will be on vacation in San Franciso for the next week and a half and will NOT have time to update until I get back. So, bear with me, but the next chapter will be up sometime between the 9th and 14th of July. I'm so sorry!

Okay, now that that's done, hope you liked the chapter. As always, reviews are very appreciated! See y'all in a few weeks!