The next day, they did another successful transmutation. And another the day after that. And another the day after that. Four days of successes passed and the change in Edward was becoming more apparent with each day. He was not even close to being human again, but he was definitely less canine. His tail was shorter, retracting back into his spine. His muzzle was shorter as well, his skull shifting into something more humanoid. His back was less hunched and his pelvis had morphed to allow more range of motion in his hind legs. He still couldn't really stand upright and he probably wouldn't be able to for another week or more yet, but he was improving daily. It was a glorious, beautiful thing to witness.

There were, however, some problems that kept arising as Edward progressed. Firstly and most importantly, he was beginning to remember things about his imprisonment. As a rule, he refused to talk much about it—at least to Maes... The lieutenant colonel wasn't sure whether or not he divulged his hurts to Roy, but doubted it—but it was clear from his increasingly frequent depressions that something within him was starting to understand the full impact of what had been done to him. Sometimes he would go silent for hours, sulking next to the tree in the backyard. Sometimes he would fly into sudden rages, cursing and snarling if they tried to get too close to him. More often than not he'd calm himself down and be fine within a few minutes, most likely because the dog part of his brain quickly forgot why he was upset in the first place... then all it took was a pat on the head and a few soft words to make him happy again.

On some level, Maes had known that the more human Ed became, the more he would remember about what had been through, but somehow it hadn't really occurred to him that the stupidity of the dog might be the only thing keeping him sane at this point. In short, it was becoming abundantly clear that things were going to get a lot worse before they got better.

Whatever the case, Edward's mind was still not progressing as quickly as his body—that much was certain—but there were still some rare occasions when he seemed more child than dog... albeit, a very young child...

...And now was one of those times.

"No!" Edward snapped.

"Be still, Ed!" Maes said, starting to get a little irritated.

"SAID NO!"

"See?" Roy scowled from his perch on the arm of the couch, "I told you that he wouldn't stand for it. I already tried."

Maes sighed harshly then glared down at Edward. Ed glared back up at him, juvenile defiance radiating from him in a petulant wave. It was hard for Maes to take his indignation very seriously, though, considering the fact that he was pinning the boy to the floor and attempting to put a pair of boxers on him.

Another, much less serious problem that had arisen over the past couple of days was Edward's increasing need for clothing. The transmutations were making his fur fall out in clumps and, while his nakedness really hadn't been an issue before, a lot of bare skin was showing now and simple human modesty demanded that he be covered somehow.

Unfortunately, Edward didn't like this idea in the slightest.

Apparently, he and Roy had had an argument about it last night before bed. Roy eventually won, telling him that he couldn't sleep in the bed with him if he didn't wear the boxers that he had acquired from his old dorm room. But as soon as Ed woke up this morning he tore them off and absolutely refused to put them back on. They probably weren't very comfortable, considering that the undergarments were made for human bodies and Ed's hindquarters were still drastically mutated—and he had a tail to contend with, which had to be threaded through one of the boxers' legs—but still... neither Maes or Roy were very fond of the idea of Edward crawling around the house completely in the nude.

Not to mention, Maes thought, Edward was certainly going to be mortified when he fully came back to himself and realized how he'd been behaving all this time. His very uncharacteristic affection toward Roy was probably going to be embarrassing enough for him... no need to make it worse by allowing his warped reasoning to keep him stark-naked in his commander's home.

Roy had finally called Maes at home this rainy Saturday morning and begged him to come over and deal with him. Roy, like Ed, was in a foul mood today. He hadn't had his coffee this morning, as some of Edward's shed fur had somehow found it's way into his tin of coffee grounds. Maes didn't see what the big deal was, but Roy refused to make "dog-hair-tainted coffee" as he called it and so opted to be in a grouchy state of caffeine withdrawal.

Maes had laughed heartily to hear his superior and best friend make such an odd request over the phone—especially when he was so flustered and irritated to begin with—but now, after dressing Edward three times only to have the clothing removed again in a matter of minutes, Maes' patience was wearing thin. Elysia had gone through a similar phase when she was two, so Maes knew what he was getting into before he even came over, but it was still frustrating and more than a little disturbing to be going through the same motions with Ed. It was still difficult to think of him as being on level with a two-year-old.

"Come on. Stop being difficult," Maes tried again, pulling the black boxers up over his hips, "and leave them on this time."

Ed gave a low, half-hearted snarl and let him. Maes pulled them up the rest of the way and adjusted them before sitting back with an accomplished sigh. Edward pushed himself upright, looking distinctly annoyed at both Roy and Maes. He got to his feet, stumbled, then limped heavily over to stand behind the other side of the couch and mope.

"You owe me one, Roy," Maes mumbled, standing and brushing tawny fur from the knees of his trousers.

"At least he didn't bite you. He threatened to bite me earlier when I was trying to dress him. That's why I called you over."

"Oh, so you wanted him to bite me instead?"

"Better you than me," Roy muttered, "Besides, he's already bitten me once; now it's your turn."

Maes snorted and his eyes traveled to the thin lines of stitches on Roy's forearm. True, Roy had already been damaged by Edward's formidable bite. He seemed to be healing well, though. At least, he had never really complained about the wound and the gashes looked clean. He was supposed to go back into the hospital and get the stitches removed in a few days, but knowing Roy he'd probably just remove them himself before then.

"His limp is getting worse," Roy said suddenly, quietly so that Ed wouldn't overhear.

Maes returned his gaze to Ed's half-hidden form and replied, "I've noticed. He's not putting any weight on that front leg anymore, is he?"

Roy shook his head, "I don't think he can even move it now. It just drags when he walks."

Maes frowned. Another problem that had been arising over the past few days dealt with Ed's missing arm and leg. When Roy and Alphonse had jointly decided that they should just leave Ed's dog replacement limbs alone for now, they had assumed that they could delay amputation until he was fully well again. That was, apparently, a misguided assumption.

The limbs were dying.

"I couldn't even find a pulse in it this morning," Roy continued heavily, "The back leg is doing a bit better, but he's starting to have trouble moving that one, too."

"So what are we going to do?"

He sighed. "I don't know. I don't know any surgeons that I trust enough to do it—it isn't exactly common for a boy to come in requesting a paw-removal, is it? —but that front leg is going to need to be amputated soon if there's no circulation in it..."

"How soon?"

"Soon. Tomorrow, perhaps. The day after would be pushing it. If there's no circulation, the thing is going to start rotting... and that would be very bad news for Ed. The last thing he needs is an infection."

"Do you think that maybe you could do it?" Maes asked tentatively.

"...Maybe," he admitted, chewing on his lip, "It would be really risky even to try it with a healthy body, and he is far from healthy. The shock of losing the limb could kill him... but leaving the limb alone for too long will definitely kill him, so I might not have much of a choice if we can't think of an alternative."

Maes bowed his head in thought, then looked up again and forced himself to smile, "Well, at least he's wearing underwear, now. That's one less problem."

Roy smirked, "And I heartily thank you for that. Let's just see if he'll keep them on."

"Mean. BOTH mean," Ed grumbled, shooting them a dirty look over his shoulder.

Roy laughed quietly, then stood, "Come on, Edward. Let's get today's transmutation done with and then I'll make you breakfast."

Maes and Roy had learned early on that giving Edward food before inflicting him with alchemy was not a good idea, as it tended to end up as a half-digested puddle in the middle of the transmutation circle. After a couple of days, though, a routine started to work itself out: painkillers first thing in the morning, followed by the alchemy, followed by breakfast, followed by another, smaller dose of painkillers and—more often than not—a nap on the couch. The rest of the day was spent in various ways, depending on how Ed felt. He seemed to be in a particularly belligerent mood today, so perhaps it would be wise to steer clear of him and hope that he felt better after his nap.

Ed looked as if he was considering ignoring Roy's command, but then he dragged himself to his feet—only three of them, Maes noted—and shuffled toward the basement door, grumbling. Roy watched him for a moment, frowning, then bent and picked him up. Ed growled in protest, but Roy ignored him. He probably didn't want to run the risk of Ed tripping and falling down the stairs in light of his new limping clumsiness. Maes smiled a little at that, glad that Roy didn't seem quite as inclined to hold back his concern as he had been a few days ago. It wasn't as if he'd become an entirely new person overnight or anything... the change was subtle and gradual, but it was still something. Without even talking to him about it, Maes could see that Roy was more comfortable around Ed now.

The phone next to the couch rang. Roy stopped on the first step and half-turned to Maes. "Get that, would you? It's probably..." he stopped himself, glanced at Ed, then continued discreetly, "...him. He hasn't called yet today."

Maes nodded obediently and Roy continued down the stairs. He knew who Roy meant by "him". Alphonse had been calling every day, sometimes more than once to see how his brother was doing. For the most part, Roy had insisted on keeping the conversations between Alphonse and himself and had not included Edward. Al desperately wanted to talk to his brother, but Maes knew that doing so would upset Edward more than comfort him. While Ed was improving, he didn't have more than a child's grasp on space and time. He didn't understand that Al was still far away or that he couldn't be here for a few days yet.

Roy had finally given in two days ago and tried to stir Ed from one of his—unfortunately frequent—melancholies by holding the phone to his ear and letting him talk to Alphonse, but Ed's only response was to start whimpering and demand why Al couldn't be here NOW. Both Roy and Al tried to explain it to him, but the kid had just gotten more and more upset until he finally just stopped talking altogether and crawled under the kitchen table to brood.

And now Maes and Roy agreed that it would probably be better not to mention Al's name around Ed at all. Things would just go more smoothly that way until Alphonse finally arrived.

Maes lifted the phone and put it to his ear, cutting off the grating ring.

"Colonel Mustang's residence," he said into the mouthpiece, "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes speaking."

"Oh! Good morning, sir!" Alphonse said on the line, sounding pleasantly surprised.

"Good morning, Al," he replied cheerfully, keeping his voice low so that it didn't carry downstairs. But then he heard the electric sounds of Roy beginning the transmutation and figured it was safe to talk a little louder. "I haven't gotten to talk to you in a long time it seems like..."

"Yes, well... things have been... chaotic."

Maes smirked sadly, "You can say that again."

"...So, how is brother today?"

"Good. A little moody, but Roy seems pleased with his progress over the past few days. "

"That's good to hear. I'm so worried about him... I wish I could be there right now."

"I know, kid... We're taking good care of him, though, and you'll see him soon. Just three days now, right?"

"Three days," Al agreed, his voice heavy, "Two, if I'm lucky. That still seems like an eternity... but I guess it's been so many months since the last time I've seen him, I can stand to wait a few more days."

Maes frowned sadly to himself, pained by Alphonse's helpless sadness. Al was such a sweet kid. He was much more fragile and gentler than Ed was, but he was still dedicated, caring, and loyal to his brother. All he needed was Ed and he could be perfectly content with the world, in spite of the cold, hollow prison of his metal body. As long as he had Ed, he was okay... but Edward had been taken away from him for so long now that he sounded like a different person. The happy, singsong chimes that had always seemed to ring in his voice had now been silenced. He sounded older. He sounded empty.

He sounded as if he hadn't laughed in a very, very long time.

Maes hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Hey, guess what?" he asked in the lightest, most playful tone he could muster.

"What?"

"Ed's transmutations are making his fur fall out and he's getting dog hair everywhere. He's shedding like crazy and it's driving Roy insane. It's really funny to hear him bitch about it. He apparently found dog hair in his coffee this morning and had a fit! And you know what Ed did in response?"

"...What?"

"He laughed right in his face!" Maes giggled, "It's the first time Roy's heard him really laugh since he brought him here. Your brother is being a little jerk today... that is to say, he's acting a lot like himself."

There was a pause on the end of the line, then and abrupt, almost startled-sounding burst of laughter. Maes grinned and sat back, pleased that his attempt at humor in the face of—or, really, at the expense of—tragedy had been successful.

"Shedding into his coffee...?" Al giggled, the release of laughter audibly lifting a small fraction of the sadness he carried from his shoulders. "The colonel is never going to let him live that down, is he?"

"Not on your life. This is a priceless piece of dirt that he's going to hang over his head for years to come. No one messes with Roy's coffee and gets away unscathed."

Al laughed again, in a bell-like peal that, while heartening to hear, also sounded sad somehow. He really needed something to laugh about right now. He was desperate to have something to laugh about that it hurt for Maes to hear it. Laughter was, of course, the best medicine, though. It was cathartic and it healed. Maes personally tried to laugh as much as possible and tried just as hard to make those around him laugh as well. Even if it wasn't really that funny, even if the situation was horrifying and sickening, he tried to find a way to laugh about it. It made him feel better. Maybe it was some twisted form of escapism, but it worked.

Being able to laugh at a small fraction of his brother's transformation was probably small comfort to Alphonse, but it was the best that Maes could do for him at the moment and that thought absolutely killed him inside.

"...Are you alright, Alphonse?" he felt compelled to ask after a moment when Al's pained giggling fell silent.

Al hesitated before answering, probably taken off-guard by such a question. Al was not the concern right now, Ed was... but still, Alphonse needed looking after, too. His brother was a dog and he was alone on the road, still days away from anyone he knew. What could that be like? How could he even put into words how badly he must be suffering?

"...I'll be better once I see him..." he answered finally. Maes wasn't sure if he believed that statement, but didn't say anything. "Ah, the train's here. Gotta go."

"See you soon, then."

"Yeah. Soon."

They hung up and Maes closed his eyes. Poor kid. Well, at least things were looking up for the most part and he'd be back with his brother in a few days' time. That long-awaited meeting was probably going to both hurt him and heal him beyond anything he had ever known.

The alchemic sounds filtering up from the basement had quieted during Maes' short conversation with Al, but now they started up again abruptly. Maes opened his eyes and cocked an eyebrow curiously. Two transmutations? That's odd... He kept listening and the noise died away again, only to roar to life again once more, this time accompanied by a howling shriek from Ed—a sound that, while haunting, was becoming disturbingly everyday in this household. Three transmutations, now...? Was something wrong...?

"MAES!" Roy shouted from the basement suddenly, the anxiety in his voice ramming into Maes with a sledgehammer of worry. He was on his feet in an instant, barreling toward the basement door with his heart in his throat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

No, no, no... Things could not go wrong now, not when they've come so far...

Roy slammed his hands down on the circle and tried again. Edward stiffened as the transmutation enveloped him, then loosed another sharp cry as Roy pushed hard through the alchemy.

"What? What's wrong?" Maes demanded as he came flying down the staircase, "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," Roy said numbly, pulling his hands from the circle. Ed gave a whimpering sigh and leaned against the door to the cage, eager to be let out.

Maes stopped and stared at him, "What the hell Roy? Then why did you call for me like that if nothing's wrong? You nearly gave me a heart-attack!"

"Something is wrong!" he shouted back, the first hints of panic twisting his insides, "Nothing is happening! The transmutation isn't working!"

"...What? Why?"

"If I knew that, Maes, there wouldn't be a problem, would there? Damn it, is it too much to ask to only have one crisis at a time?" he snapped, then turned back to Edward, "We're going to try one more time, Edward."

"No..." he moaned, cowering against the door, "Enough, enough..."

"Just once more," Roy promised, already beginning.

He closed his eyes and reached for Edward with his mind, guiding the energy into him and telling it what to do. The circle itself held most of the instructions that the alchemy was supposed to follow and Roy was simply a conduit for the change and a kind of overseer for the process. Roy could almost see the reaction happening in his mind's eye like tiny, electric-white hands trying to break down Edward's body—deconstructing his bones and tissues, shifting them, and then making them whole again in one slick movement that allowed for subtle change but no real injury other than a lingering pain.

He worked slowly this time and everything started out smoothly: glowing circle, alchemic roar, and the prickling of power coursing down to the palms of his hands. It was fine. Perfect. Maybe the previous failed attempts had been flukes... It happened sometimes. If everything wasn't completely exact, if the circle was incomplete or if the alchemist was lacking in sufficient concentration, sometimes the transmutation would end as a dud and nothing would happen. Perhaps Roy had gotten too casual with doing this particular transmutation, since he'd done it so many times over the past few days and felt too comfortable with it to give it the proper attention it needed to work. Perhaps he'd just rushed it too much...

But then Roy felt it again. It was like an abrupt wall had been thrown up in front of his alchemic progress. He slammed into it hard and Ed shrieked, jolted by the metaphorical impact. Roy reeled for a moment, then backed up and threw himself against the blockage, trying to break it down but wary of pushing Edward too hard. In spite of his caution Ed cried out again in a long, keening wail. Roy hesitated, considered pushing forward even harder, but then decided that the risk was too great and that Ed had suffered enough for today.

He took his hands from the circle and Edward sagged against the makeshift bars of his cage in relief.

"...I don't know what's wrong," he told Maes quietly.

"Is there something wrong with the circle, maybe...?" Maes asked tentatively, casting a worried glance at Ed who was pawing at the door to his cage, pleading to be released.

"It's fine. Everything is fine. I've checked it over like a million times" Roy spat in frustration, obliging Ed's whimpering request and opening the door for him. Edward limped out as quickly as he was able, his right front paw dragging the ground and nearly tripping him in his haste to be out of the cage. Roy watched him silently, then sighed and beckoned for him to come closer. "Come here, Edward."

Ed didn't comply immediately. He looked both hurt and a little angry, probably greatly displeased that Roy had attempted the failed transmutation on him so many times in one session. He didn't understand Roy's reasons for doing it and was certainly not happy with him. After a short pause, though, he stumbled over to his superior and sat down in front of him, his expression cold and his ears laid back.

Roy took Edward's lifeless leg in his hands, ignoring the boy's ire and continuing his conversation with Maes.

"I guess we'll just try again later..." he said, palpating the leg which—to his chagrin—was not only still without a pulse, but had gone completely cold since the last time he'd checked it. "For now, I should probably hit the books again and see if it mentions anything about alchemic blocks in chimeraism..."

"Alchemic blocks?"

Roy sighed again loudly. He was both worried and irritated and really did not feel like explaining alchemic concepts to his friend, but he knew that Maes just wanted to understand what was going on so that he could help. Unfortunately, Maes was not an alchemist and could do nothing to help Roy with this problem, in spite of his good intentions.

"It just means that the alchemy isn't working right. It's like it's stuck."

"Can't you just... you know, force your way through it?"

"...Possibly. I'm afraid of pushing too hard, though; that would almost certainly do more harm than good... it could break him down entirely into a puddle of guts, blood, and bone."

"That's... graphic," Maes mumbled, wrinkling his nose in a comedic attempt to cover the brief horror that had crossed his face at Roy's words.

Roy smirked at him darkly, then turned back to Ed. Ed was positively glaring at him, his half-human face worn with exhaustion and tightened with pain. Roy reached down and pinched the cold flesh between his toes as hard as he could, checking to see if the leg had any feeling left in it.

"Does this hurt?" he asked.

"Hurt everywhere," Ed replied tiredly, his tone more than a little accusatory.

"I meant here. Does it hurt where I'm pinching?"

"No. It's loose."

"Loose?" Roy asked, thinking that he'd misspoken, "Do you mean limp? Like it's numb and you can't move it?"

"No, loose. LOOSE," he insisted.

"Loose...? Like... like a tooth?" Maes asked as he stepped over to them and crouched down, trying to understand.

"Yes. Like that."

Roy frowned and looked at his friend. "What the hell does that mean?"

Maes shrugged and Ed made an aggravated sound. Since they'd started the transmutations, Ed had been talking a lot more... but that didn't mean that they could always understand what he was saying and it was making the kid increasingly frustrated. He knew what he wanted to say, but often couldn't find a coherent way to say it with his limited vocabulary.

Roy's frown deepened and he started palpating his way up the leg again, hoping that Ed still had some sensation left in the limb, even if it was only the smallest tingle of feeling. He held the leg out, pulling on it until it was fully extended before him. As he was pulling, though, he felt something pop. Half a second later, the other end of the leg fell to the floor with a dull thump, having suddenly disconnected from Ed's body.

All three of them froze, staring down in disbelief at the disembodied limb—the paw of which Roy still held in one hand—which was currently leaking thick, dark red fluid onto the floor.

Roy was the first to break himself from his stunned surprise. He dropped the leg quickly and clamped his hand down on the empty, blood-sticky place on Ed's shoulder where the limb had all too recently been attached, instinctively trying to stop the blood-flow.

"Oh god, Ed!" Maes cried, whipping his shirt off and wadding it up, helping Roy press it to the wound. "Hold still!"

Ed didn't give a response. He was still looking down at the leg bemusedly. Then he blinked and smirked up at Roy calmly.

"Told you, loose," he said, seemingly unfazed by the fact that one of his limbs had just decided to fall off without warning. Roy stared at him, trying to absorb his lucid placidity in the face of amputation. He didn't seem to be in any more pain than usual and he certainly wasn't very upset...

Heart pounding, he ventured to peel the t-shirt back from the empty arm socket and assess the damage.

It was hardly bleeding at all: it was just some old, half-congealed gore smeared across a smooth plane. Where Roy had expected a ragged injury of bloody meat and shards of humerus, there was scarcely a wound at all. The area was raw and pink, but looked more like a mostly-healed injury than a devastatingly new one.

Maes gave a strangled, slightly mad bark of laughter and sat back on his heels, finally realizing that Edward wasn't in any danger of bleeding to death. "Oh, eww..." he commented, "That is so gross."

"Gross" didn't even begin to cover it. Mind and heart both still racing, Roy reached over and picked the leg up, trying to ignore his own revulsion as he looked at it. Much of the tattered flesh at the shoulder of the limb looked as if it hadn't been attached to healthy tissue in a long while, Ed's human body having severed it's connection with the foreign appendage.

"Well..." Roy said as calmly as he could manage, given the circumstances, "I suppose that's one more problem that we have to worry about."

Maes threw his head back and cackled into the dimness of the basement. Roy scowled at him.

Honestly, that man would laugh at anything.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In a dark world that Maes constantly strove to find light in, there was suddenly nothing left to laugh about.

"...That's it, then," Roy said quietly, putting down the academic text that he'd been scouring over for the past few hours. Ed was next to him on the couch, deeply asleep, his head buried in a cushion. "It's over. We've failed."

"You can't say that!" Maes whispered back scathingly, "Maybe the book is wrong."

"It's not wrong, Maes. I know it isn't. Tucker knew his shit; he wasn't an idiot."

"So there's nothing you can do? Nothing at all?" Maes asked desperately, fighting to keep his voice down so that they didn't wake Edward.

Roy clenched his jaw and looked away and Maes' heart sank.

After hours of searching, Roy had finally stumbled across a reference to alchemic blocks in Tucker's manual. It was brief and vague, but it more-or-less stated that if a block in chimeral alchemy was reached, getting past it meant destroying both of the combined creatures. When Roy had read the passage aloud, Maes had watched—with growing horror—the terrible veil of defeat begin to descend upon him. Just those few words and he was already losing hope, those half-forgotten plans for euthanasia resurfacing in his mind and stealing all emotion from his face.

Maes cleared his throat and tried again, "The passage was in reference to combining animals though; it didn't say anything about taking them apart... Maybe it's different when separating them... maybe there's still a way to get past it," he reasoned, scrambling frantically for anything that might make Roy change his mind about what he was thinking of doing.

"...Maybe," Roy conceded after a beat, "but it's a long-shot..."

"But there's still a chance, right?"

"Barely."

"Still, it's better than giving up altogether!"

Roy massaged his temple, but didn't say anything. Maes swallowed hard and sat down next to him. It couldn't end like this. Things had been going so well... how could things turn so wrong so fast?

"Maybe Al can help..." Maes said, "maybe he'll know what to do."

"Doubtful."

"Just..." his voice cracked slightly and he had to pause before continuing, "If you really do have to euthanize him... just, please, wait for Al to get here."

"You want this to be the last memory that Alphonse has of his brother?" Roy spat, angrily gesturing at Ed's sleeping form.

"He should have a chance to say goodbye, Roy... If it comes to that."

Again, Roy didn't say anything... but his brooding thoughts were written all over his face. He stood abruptly and stormed from the room, out through the back door—no doubt wanting to be alone with his painful contemplations and Maes didn't blame him. He had a heavy decision to make.

Maes wiped his eyes and looked at Ed, watching him breathe softly. Maes had vowed not to get in the way if Roy chose to end Edward's life, but that had been when such a thought—while terrible—didn't seem as if it would ever manifest itself into a reality. Now, though, the nearing prospect of having to keep to his vow was turning Maes' stomach. How could he...? But Maes knew that Edward was suffering. In constant pain. It really was the kindest thing to let him go if all else failed.

...But HOW could they fail now? When Roy had worked so hard, when he had given so much of himself to this poor, sick boy? It couldn't end like this. It just couldn't.

Out in the yard, the sky opened up and it started raining cold droplets onto the world.

Still, Roy didn't come back inside for what seemed like a very long time.

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((A/N: There will probably be somewhere around three more chapters to this, for those of you who are wondering. Thanks for all the great feedback; it's what gets me through my week.))