So, before I do anything else, I need to say THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH! I now have 174 reviews! 174 reviews! That's freaking insane! You guys are the best readers in the world, and I just want you all to know how much each and every review means to me! I was going to update this earlier today, but I was at a party last night (not by choice, might I add; it was a family party) and I wasn't home until about two in the morning, and didn't wake up until about eleven.
I've decided to split this chapter into two parts; the original was over twelve thousand words; it was taking way too long to proofread, so I decided to split it up.
Now on to chapter eleven:
Hold Your Hand
Chapter Eleven
Rachel and Sam were sitting on the living room couch, watching television. Rachel's head was resting on Sam's shoulder, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Moments like this, just the two of them, were pretty rare, these days.
Sam's mother had decided (without asking anyone else, of course) that Sam and Rachel weren't able to take care of themselves. So, until they had both recovered completely, his family (yes, his entire family) was staying in their small, two bedroom apartment. Joe and Elizabeth slept on the pull out couch in the living room, while Stacie and Stevie slept on an air mattress in Olivia's room, moving her crib into Sam and Rachel's bedroom.
So now, for the first time in about three weeks, the couple was alone for more than thirty seconds at a time. Joe and Elizabeth had gone sightseeing that evening, and Olivia, Stacie, and Stevie were playing in Olivia's room, and Sam wasn't intending on wasting it.
Things were beginning to get a little stressful and uncomfortable for everybody, especially Rachel; the small girl could feel Elizabeth watching every move she made like a hawk. The older woman would constantly comment on her parenting skills, her cooking skills, and how she 'ran her household' as she put it; hell she nearly exploded (and then gave her a thirty minute lecture) when she saw Rachel making a cake out of a Betty Crocker box, instead of baking one from scratch.
Rachel was getting really sick of his mother always insulting her all the time; Sam could see it in her eyes. What he didn't see, however, was how much it hurt the small girl when he didn't defend her. Wasn't it sort of his job to defend her; to 'honor and cherish' her? Sure, they hadn't taken their vows, yet, but they were pretty close to doing it. She… she just thought that Sam would have said something to his mother, by then; he had defended her all the time, during high school; against Karofsky and his slushie facials, against Finn whenever he would harass her about going back out with him… even Quinn had pushed him to his breaking point with Rachel.
She could still remember that moment, vividly. She and Sam had just walked into the choir room, her hand entangled in his. Quinn greeted the two of them from her seat in the back of the room, "hi Sam," she had smiled at the blonde boy, batting her eyelashes, before looking at Rachel and saying, "that's a really nice sweater, Rupaul; is that what you're going to be wearing to the tranny parade?"
Just then, something in Sam had just snapped. His blood became searing hot as his emerald green eyes narrowed; his jaw ticked and his body tensed up. The blonde boy rarely acted like this; she had only seen this happen one other time, on Valentine's Day. The tall boy had built a kissing booth in the middle of the main hallway at McKinley High. Rachel, Sam, and Santana definitely could tell that it was just another pathetic attempt to try to get Rachel back with him (Brittany was too oblivious to notice, and Noah was too preoccupied with trying to woo Lauren). He had went on and on to Rachel about how she should kiss him, because it was for a good cause, and every other girl in their grade had already done so. Finally, the small girl had cracked. What was one kiss, anyway, especially if it was going to a worthy cause? It wasn't like it would mean anything to her.
Sam had stood there as Rachel slapped down the dollar bill on the booth table, with his arms crossed, glaring at Finn. Maybe Finn was looking at her in a way that Sam didn't like, or something? Maybe he just didn't like seeing her kiss another guy?... she didn't really know. All she knew was that her boyfriend was looking at somebody like he wanted to kill them… just like he was doing right then.
"You know what, Quinn?" he had said, his grip on Rachel's hand tightening, "that's enough."
The blonde head cheerleader shook her head, unsure that she had heard him right, "What?"
"I said that's enough." The entire room went silent, all eyes suddenly on the three of them.
"What do you mean 'that's enough'?" Quinn had asked.
"What I mean is…" he continued to glare at her, "you need to stop talking shit about my girlfriend, because she did absolutely nothing to you."
"Oh come on, Sam," she rolled her eyes, "you can't seriously be into this girl; I mean, she wears animal sweaters to school; animal sweaters! Don't you get it?" she shot the both of them a major bitch face, "she's a slushie target, a loser; and she always will be."
"Read my lips, Quinn," the blonde boy took a step closer to the HBIC, "I will never go out with you. You're a terrible, terrible person. You like to pick on people for the fun of it, and for your own benefit. You think that everybody loves you, when in reality, everybody hates you!"
"Preach!" Santana had added, agreeing with the blonde boy.
"Why don't you keep your mouth shut, whore?" Quinn had snapped at the Latina.
"That's it!" Santana jumped out of her seat, "let me at her!" she lunged toward Quinn, but Mike and Noah had been quicker than her, and held her back, "let me at her!" she had squirmed in their arms, "Oigan, yo soy de Lima Heights Adjacent y me enorgullece!" Santana screamed as she tried to wriggle out of their grasp, "¿Sabes lo que ocurre en Lima Heights Adjacent? Cosas malas!"
Sam had waited one or two minutes for Santana to calm down before continuing, "You know what you are, Quinn? You're a mean girl; a bitch," he stepped even closer to her, "you're a bully, Quinn; you'll always be a bully."
Sam then squeezed Rachel's hand, lovingly, and guided them to their seats, "Sam," she whispered into his ear, "you didn't have to do that…" she had thought for a brief moment, "in fact… you really shouldn't have; your outburst will probably just cause Quinn to hate me even more."
"I had to say something, baby," he sighed, draping his arm over her shoulders, "I can't stand the way she treats you; someone had to put her in her place. You're the most beautiful girl in this school, and you shouldn't let some blonde bimbo make you think otherwise."
The small girl was thrown back into reality when she felt a pair of soft, ample lips press against her neck, teeth gently nibbling at her extra sensitive skin.
"Sam," she sighed, gently lifting his face from her neck, "we can't… we… one of the kids could walk in any second."
"No they won't," he whispered sensually into her ear, pressing his lips against her earlobe, "they're busy playing; we're all alone," Sam rubbed slow circles on her upper left arm, "and I was thinking… that maybe we could do a little something something before they get bored."
"Sam," she sighed, "I'm just not in the mood, okay?"
"Come on, babe," he pouted, "we haven't done it since before the accident, and I'm dying. Here," he took her hand and placed it on the crotch of his pants, "feel how hard you make me."
"Um…" the short girl bit her lip, her cheeks turning a faint shade of crimson, "Sam… we really shouldn't be doing this, right now… it's really risky."
"So we'll be quick," he shrugged.
"Sam, I don't know if…"
"Babe, please. Please," he placed his hand on her upper thigh, slowly beginning to run it up and down, creeping up to her panties, making Rachel shiver.
"Oh!" she gasped when she felt his fingers rub right where he knew her clit was, "Mmm Sam!" she whimpered, her eyes rolling back into her head.
Sam smirked down at her before saying, "come'ere babe," and lifted her onto his lap. Rachel wrapped her arms around her fiancé's neck and pressed her lips against his, letting out a tiny whimper when she felt his hands caress her ass.
"We really do need to be quick about this," Rachel whispered into his ear once they broke apart, "so…" she quickly unzipped his pants, and gently threaded out his hard penis. Sam moaned softly. Rachel carefully guided him into her center.
"Fuck, baby," he murmured as he began to thrust up, loving the way Rachel's fingers clung to his shoulders, and oh god, that face that she was making almost threw him off the edge, altogether.
"Oh Sam," Rachel breathed as she rocked her hips against his, "your dick feels so fucking good, Sammy…"
The green eyed boy threw his head back and moaned, "I… I'm gonna… I'm gonna cum real soon, Rachie…" Sam reached up and squeezed her breast, tiny beads of sweat popping up on his skin. It still sort of hurt to have her sitting on top of him, with her hips bucking against his, but he couldn't stand not to… he needed this. To be with her; to be as close as he possibly could to his girl.
"Sam, oh god," she moaned, "oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god!" her fingers tangled into his hair, tugging lightly.
"What are you guys doing?"
Sam opened his eyes. That wasn't Rachel's voice; he knew what Rachel's voice sounded like, and trust him, that wasn't her.
"Oh my god."
Alright. That was Rachel's voice. But why did she stop moving? And why did say 'oh my- holy fucking crap! He turned his head to see Stacie, Stacie his little nine year old sister, was standing in the middle of the living room, while his dick was still shoved into her pussy, his right hand squeezing her ass and his left hand cupping her breast. The small girl quickly climbed off of him, smoothing down her skirt as he zipped his pants back up.
The little blonde girl looked up at the two of them, "Sammy, why were you hurting Rachie?"
"What?" Sam shook his head, "Stace, I wasn't hurting Rachie."
"Yeah you were," Stacie protested, "you were squeezing her too tight, and she was crying, and screaming, 'oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god'."
"Stacie, come here," Rachel sighed, and motioned for her to sit down on the couch next to them. Stacie obliged, and sat in between the two of them.
"Why would you hurt Rachie? I thought you loved her." Stacie asked.
"I do love Rachie; you know that."
"Then why would you hurt her?"
"Stacie," Rachel looked down at her, "Stacie, I appreciate how concerned you are about my safety, and wellbeing, but I promise you, your brother hasn't ever hurt me, for as long as we've known each other."
"And I never will. I never hurt you, or Stevie, or mom, have I?" she shook her head, "then why would it be any different for Rachie? She's my family now, too, you know."
"I guess so…" she sighed, "but why was she screaming 'oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god'? And what were you doing on the couch?"
"Oh…" Sam quickly became flustered by his sister's question, "well… we… we were… playing…"
"Playing?" Stacie shook her head in confusion.
"Yeah…" he nodded, "you see, Stace… I… I was… tickling Rachel… and she was screaming because… because she was… she was happy… yeah… she was happy because she… she just loves getting tickled." He turned around to see Rachel glaring at him as she silently mouthed, 'You know I hate being tickled.'
'Just go with it,' he mouthed back, "So… are we okay, now?"
"Uh… yeah…" Stacie nodded, "can I watch T.V., now?"
"Sure," Rachel handed her the remote before getting up off the couch, "I think I'll start making dinner, now," she walked into the kitchen.
Sam stood up and followed her, "So..." he said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, "I was thinking… you know where we could be alone?"
"Where?"
"Our bedroom."
"Sam," she sighed and rolled her eyes, "you can't be serious."
"Think about it," he continued, "Stacie's watching T.V.," he motioned toward his little sister, "and Stevie and Livy are playing in Olivia's room… I don't think that they'll notice if we just slip away for like two minutes."
"Just two minutes, huh?" the petite brunette crossed her arms, giving him an amused look, "looks like someone's feeling extra cocky today. But seriously," she shook her head, "I can't believe that you're still in the mood, just minutes after you're little sister walked in on us. You, Sam Evans, have reached brand new levels of perviness, which I didn't think was even possible."
"I wouldn't have to be a perve if you weren't so freaking sexy," he whispered into her ear, making her shiver.
"S-Sam…" she gasped slightly, "…Sam, as flattered as I am, I really don't think that we're going to be able to make love until your family goes back to Tennessee… which reminds me…" she paused for a moment, "when… when do you think that they're going… you know… going back home?"
"Um… I don't know…" he scratched his head and sighed; the green eyed boy had known that this was coming. Rachel was getting too fed up, and too stressed out with Elizabeth. Okay, maybe his mother was a bit too overbearing, but so what? She was his mother, whether she liked it or not. And besides… it wasn't like Shelby was the mother of the year, or something like that, "does it really matter?" he asked with a shrug of his shoulders, "they're really not bothering anyone, are they?"
"Well… they… your mother…" Rachel sighed, "…never mind…" The small girl was tired; she had just worked a six hour shift at the diner, her feet were hurting, and she had a headache; she really didn't feel like starting a fight, right now.
"O-kay?" Sam shook his head in confusion, "well… do you need any help?" he offered his fiancé a small smile.
"No, that's alright," she sighed again, shaking her head, "besides, letting you get too close to a stove probably wouldn't be a very smart idea. Just…" she rested her hand on his shoulder, "why don't you just go see what your brother and Livy are up to?"
"Um… okay… babe, are you sure that you're okay?"
"I'm fine, Samuel," she forced out a smile before pressing a quick kiss on his cheek.
.X.x.X.x.X.
Santana, Brittany, and Rachel were sitting at a table at the local Starbucks. The small girl really needed some time away from Sam. Don't get her wrong, she loved him, and loved spending time with him, but... he had been acting really strange toward her, lately. Whenever she would start to confront him about his mother, he would start to tense up, and quickly change the subject; which really upset her, because he had no problem telling her about what he didn't like about her mother. Not to mention the fact that she always defended him whenever Shelby would throw a rude comment at him.
"So you're telling me…" Santana said after taking a sip of her Frappuccino, "that you and trouty were wanking on the couch… and then Sam's little sister walked in?"
"Yup," Rachel nodded and sighed. She was still trying to get the image of Stacie, confused and surprised, out of her mind; the experience was completely mortifying, to her at least.
"And…" the Latina raised an eyebrow, "she actually saw you guys… you know…?"
"Uh huh… I haven't really been having the best luck, these days."
"Did she know exactly what you guys were doing?" Brittany asked.
"No," the brown eyed girl shook her head, "at first she thought that Sam was hurting me… but then he told her that we were just… playing-"
"Well, technically… you guys were playing…" Brittany interrupted, "just not the type of game that Stacie knows about."
"Thank you Brittany," Rachel sighed, "honestly, it could have been worse."
"Worse?" Santana snorted, "Rach, your fiance's little sister saw you guys… you know… Banging… getting it in there… having sex… fucking! How the hell could it be any worse?"
"Santana!" Rachel hissed, "can you please stop naming different ways to say 'have sex', or at least lower your volume? People are starting to stare?"
"Sorry," she sighed, "but seriously… how could it get any worse than that?"
"What if she told Elizabeth? Could you imagine what she would do if she found out that Sam and I were making love, right there, on the couch?" She thought for a quick moment, "you know, I wonder what she would say if she were to find out that her 'little boy' is always the one who starts the… you know… the dirty stuff…"
"Just ignore her, Rachel. I mean, they're all going to leave as soon as you and Sam get better, right?"
"Well, they're supposed to," Rachel sighed and shook her head, "but now I'm not so sure. I mean, Sam and I are fine, right now; we don't need anybody's help to do anything, anymore."
"Ugh, I hate that," Santana groaned, "you have no idea how long it took me to finally get my grandma to leave."
"Do you guys want to know what the worst part is?" Rachel asked.
"What?" Brittany shook her head in confusion.
"It's… it's that… Sam doesn't even try to defend me during all of this; he-"
"Whoa, whoa, back up!" Santana interrupted, "So you're saying that while his mother keeps insulting you over and over, Sam just sits there and watches it all go down?" Rachel nodded, "you wanna know what I think? I think that trouty needs to grab himself by the fucking balls, be a man, and defend his fucking woman!"
"You know," the blue eyed girl looked up at her fiancé, "it's funny that you would say that."
"What are you talking about, babe?" she shook her head in confusion.
"Don't you remember everything that happened with your grandma? You weren't so quick to defend your woman."
"What?" Santana scoffed, "B, I defended you."
"Not at first," Brittany shook her head, "you used to tell me that she'd be gone in a few weeks, and until then, to not let her bother me."
"Guys," Rachel sighed, "do you think that I'm being stupid for… you know… for marrying Sam? I mean, if this is how he's always going to treat me when his mother is around, then… I'm not sure if I want to be with that kind of person for the rest of my life."
"Rach, trust me," Santana smiled at her, "I can tell that you've been really happy during these past few months… happier than you've been in a long time… and I really don't think that you should decide not to marry the guy that does that to you, just because his mother is kind of a bitch… plus… I know that you really want to marry him… you two are completely smitten by each other…"
"San, it's not his mother that bothers me so much… it's the fact that Sam doesn't seem to even care about how poorly she treats me. I… I just kind of expected more from him, you know?"
"Well then there's only one thing you can do: talk to him about it," Santana shrugged.
"But I've already tried that more than once. He just changes the subject."
"Then… be more aggressive… scream at him until he hears you… and if that doesn't work… hit him? I don't know…"
"Santana," Rachel sighed, "I'm not hitting Sam… I mean, I appreciate your concern, but I'd rather not go to jail for domestic abuse."
"Yeah," the Latina shrugged, "you're right, I guess. But seriously Rach, you need to talk to him."
"Yeah, Rachie," Brittany agreed, "you seem really upset, and I hate it when you're upset… it sort of makes me want Santana to slash Sam with her vicious, vicious words… which is weird because I like Sam; he's really cool," she smiled, "the different voices he makes are so funny."
"Impressions," Rachel giggled, "they're called impressions, Brittany. But seriously guys," she rested the side of her face on her right hand, "what am I supposed to tell him? I can't just go up to him and say, 'hey sweetheart, I know that you've been at work all day, and that you're tired, but you need to kick your family the hell out.'"
"No, you don't need to say it like that, but… just tell him that you have needs, too. It's your life, Rach; you have to live in that apartment, too, and you shouldn't have to live with someone breathing down your neck and criticizing everything you do; because I don't know about you, but to me, that just seems plain wrong."
"I know that, but-"
"But what?" The ditsy blonde interrupted, "Rachel, you need to stand up for yourself. Sam's always treated you with so much respect, and that shouldn't change just because of his mother. You're a beautiful, independent woman, and you deserve to be treated as such."
"See?" Santana smiled and kissed Brittany's cheek, "I told you that my baby was smart."
.X.x.X.x.X.
"Rachel, don't forget to wash those vegetables," Elizabeth said as she watched the small girl prepare dinner from the kitchen table, holding Olivia in her arms. The brown haired woman had quickly grown extremely fond of the two year old child. She had always loved babies and small children, for as long as she could remember; that was why she had decided to become a pre-school teacher, and why she and Joe had their first child so early in their marriage.
"Um," Rachel sighed, "I already did, just a few minutes ago," she thought for a quick moment, "but thanks for the suggestion," the brown eyed girl added, trying to possibly make peace with Elizabeth. She was tired of all the tenseness, of the uncomfortable atmosphere that this situation was creating.
"Well, you should probably wash them again," she shot Rachel a smile (the younger girl could tell that the gesture was obviously fake, but decided not to acknowledge it). "New York City is a very dirty place, and you never know what kind of dangerous bacteria could be flying around in the air."
"That's kind of taking things to an extreme, don't you think?" Rachel asked her, exasperatedly, "besides, I've been living in New York for over two years, and there's nothing to worry about."
"Well, excuse me for caring about my family's wellbeing; I'd start caring a little more about your family's, if I were you."
God damn it, Rachel sighed and rolled her eyes, when's Sam coming home? The blonde boy had been at work for most of the day, and she really wanted to get him alone (not for any sexual reasons, though. She was still sticking by her word, and wasn't going to make love to him until his family had left; there was no way in hell that she was going to risk having another instance of the Stacie incident). She was going to take Santana's advice; to talk to him, and really tell him what's bothering her.
Elizabeth turned her attention back to Olivia, "So sweetheart, what's your favorite color?"
"Puhple."
"Purple?" she smiled down at her granddaughter, "I bet it's because you look so pretty in that purple dress, huh?"
"No," the toddler shook her head.
"Then why?"
"It's mommy's."
"Oh…" the older brunette paused for a moment, "well you shouldn't like something just because your mommy does. You need to be your own person."
"Lizzie, she's two," Joe said, peaking his head over from the couch, "she wants to be like her mother; that's what little girls do."
"Well, I'm sorry; I just wanted my granddaughter to be a well-rounded child."
"Before, she left, Santana's grandma said that Livy was a love child," Stevie said to his father, "what… what does that mean?"
"Oh… you heard what Santana told you… don't listen to anything that Maria says… she's just bitter…"
"Oh… Stevie shrugged, "okay, I guess… "
Just then, they heard the front door open, as Sam walked through the door, "Sammy!" Stacie and Stevie squealed at the sight of their brother. Rachel could tell that Sam had really missed them, as they had missed him. The brown eyed girl had nothing against them; they were both such sweethearts, and loved playing with Olivia, despite the pretty large age difference between them; they were good kids, and absolutely weren't the reason why she was upset with the whole family staying there. Actually… she kind of liked having them around.
"Hi daddy," Olivia smiled up at him.
"Hey baby girl," he smiled back at her and kissed the top of her head, before moving up to Rachel, "hey beautiful," he wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Hey Sammy," she pressed his lips against his.
"You know, you really shouldn't do that in front of your daughter," Elizabeth commented, "I don't think it's healthy for a little girl to watch a smut show with her parents staring in it."
Rachel looked at Sam, waiting for him to say something. When all he did was look away from his mother, Rachel let out a disappointed sigh, before returning to chopping some carrots and celery.
"Olivia, who's on your sneakers?" Elizabeth cooed, already forgetting about the two of them.
"Hehlo kitty," Olivia replied.
"They're really pretty," she smiled, "here; let me take a closer look at them." She then lifted her onto the kitchen table holding her hands so she wouldn't lose her balance.
"Um…" Rachel quickly walked up to them, lifting Olivia off of the table, "we really don't like to let her stand on the table, so she doesn't think that it's okay to do it all the time… it's sort of a house rule."
"That's insane," Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "there's nothing wrong with letting her stand there; it won't hurt her."
"Lizzie," Joe sighed, "Olivia isn't your daughter; if Rachel doesn't want her to stand on the table, then you need to respect her wishes."
"Well," the older woman sighed, "just because she's Olivia's mother doesn't mean that she knows what the hell she's doing."
The room was silent; everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at the two of them, not wanting to miss the next move.
Rachel walked back up to Sam, and simply asked, "you're seriously not going to say anything?"
"Um… well…" he looked at his mother, and then back at Rachel, "I… I… I don't think… you…"
"Fine," she shook her head, finally having enough, "thank you, Samuel, for making yourself so perfectly clear." And with that, she walked out of the room, not wasting so much as a single second to look back at him, before walking into their bedroom, and slamming the door behind her.
.X.x.X.x.X.
Dinner had been awkward, that evening. No one said a word, not even Olivia; even she could feel the tension in the air as Rachel shot Sam some sad, disappointed glances, every so often. Rachel had excused herself pretty early that evening, walking into her room, and not to be seen for the rest of the night.
At about ten thirty, Sam decided that it was time to put Olivia to bed, and to see what was going on with Rachel. After setting the sleeping toddler down in her crib, he stripped down to his boxers, and slipped into bed next to her. Her back was turned toward, him, so he wrapped his arms around her body from behind, "baby?"
"Don't you dare touch me, Samuel."
"But I-"
"Can I ask you something?" she asked, turning around to face him, and sitting up in bed.
"Sure," he nodded, "what is it?"
"Why didn't you defend me when your mother insulted me, today? Because not only did you make a complete fool out of me in front of your, parents, siblings, and our daughter, but you really hurt me today, Sam. It broke my heart when you didn't stick up for me."
"Rach, I know that my mom isn't the greatest person to live with, but… hey wait a minute, what about your mom, huh? She's always insulting me."
"But I always stick up for you when she does…" she paused for a brief moment, "what happened to the guy in the hospital room? Who stuck up for me, and stood up to his mother? Because that's the guy I love, and that's the man I want to marry," she looked down at her lap, "that's my Sam. But this guy," she looked up and down, "this guy is just a coward… a coward that's afraid of his own mother…"
"What the hell am I supposed to say, Rachel? She's my mom!"
"And I'm your fiancé, Sam; I'm going to be your wife in two months. Look," she sighed and shook her head, "I love you more than anything, and you mean the world to me, but… this is abuse, and I don't know how much longer I can take it. Santana's right… I have needs too, god damn it!"
"Wait… you talked to Santana about this?"
"I had to talk to someone, Sam; whenever I would try to talk to you about it, you'd change the subject. So Sam please. Please. If you love me as much as you say you do, then help me," she looked up at him through her long dark eyelashes, "I'm begging you." She turned back onto her side, and closed her eyes, deciding that she really didn't want to talk to him, anymore.
"Goodnight, baby; I love you," Sam whispered. Rachel didn't respond.
"Well god damn it," he muttered to himself. Was his mother really getting that bad? Sure, he knew that she could be clingy and overbearing, and that it sometimes agitated Rachel, but she never really pushed anybody over the edge like that.
Now he had to find out if his mother was really getting out of control. He couldn't risk losing her; not again. Rachel meant everything to the blonde boy, and he needed to make sure that she knew it.
So, I really hope that you guys didn't hate it? Who do you think is right, Rachel or Sam? What do you think about Sam's mother?
I've decided to add a small scene into part two, but other than that, chapter twelve is pretty much finished. I'll update as soon as I get… say… ten reviews? So please review!
