DISCLAIMER: You know the drill. I don't own the quotes or Ultimate Spider-Man. I do own my OC's and the idea.

Chapter 25: Nights of Blood

"You see the smile that's on my mouth.

It's hiding the words that don't come out."

-Brandi Carlile

Sunday, the morning after Danny left the infirmary, finds me in the lounge room, stretching. Peter stumbles to the couch, a bowl of cereal in hand. I can't help but blush slightly, as I am wearing only a camisole and stretch pants, and Peter is wearing his (teddy bear) underwear and a tee shirt.

"Not a word," he glares at me, and I see that someone (probably Sam)drew a mustache on him, not to mention that they (Sam) practically painted him with eyeshadow, blush, and lip gloss.

"I bet that Ava has something to take that off," I say. "I don't actually wear makeup, so..."

Peter looks dumbfounded. "Ava wears makeup?"

"Sometimes. She just doesn't make it look like she's wearing a mask, unlike certain people in this room."

"Shuddup."

Luke walks in. "Oh, dude. When did you last look in a mirror?"

"Shuddup."

I grin crookedly at him. "Has your aunt seen you yet?"

Peter's eyes widen, and he drops his bowl of cereal as he stands up, running off, presumably to try to find Ava and some makeup remover.

"That's going to be embarrassing if he doesn't change soon," Ava remarks.

"You mean his shorts? Wait til you see his face. Oh, and he just ran off to look for you," I say.

She shrugs. "He'll figure it out eventually. What kind of stretch is that?"

I shrug. "No idea. It feels good, though."

"That looks painful."

"Nah, it's actually pretty gentle compared to some of the others."

Ava stares at me disbelievingly. "If you say so. Nice shirt."

A blush creeps back onto my cheeks. "Well, nobody was up when I started stretching!" I say, easing myself out of the stretch to go to my room and change into actual clothes. Sam passes me in the corridor, his eyes falling to my shirt, and his eyebrows shoot up. "Not a word," I say, tossing the sentence over my shoulder, not bothering to look where I'm walking until my body collides with another.

"Good morning," Danny greets me as I struggle to untangle myself from him. He raises his eyebrows at my shirt. "The monks tend towards modesty in K'un L'un."

"I know!" I say irritably, brushing myself off and standing back up. I face him, and my eyes find his green ones. "Sor-" Danny leans in, and our noses gently bump as he finds my lips, and we wrap our arms around each other, pulling him closer- oh, this feels so right. Breaking away, I grin at him.

"Uh..." Sam trails off from behind us.

"You seriously stood there the whole time?" I give him my best 'death glare' over the rims of my glasses, wishing that he would disappear.

"Uh... I was just going to ask you where Peter went..."

"Right behind you, Bucket Head. This had better not be permanent marker..."

"Uh..."

"DIE!"

I laugh as Sam dashes around the corner, Peter close behind. Danny wraps his arm around me, and I lean my head on his shoulder. "Feeling better?"

"Yes," he smiles. "What is this on your shoulder?" His hand brushes over my tattoo, which raises slightly off of my skin.

"Oh, nothing. Just that, uh, tattoo..."

"Of what?"

I shift uncomfortably. "Just an infinity sign and some writing." Forget what hurt you but never what it taught you. A reminder to myself to be thankful. I had gotten it after leaving Xavier's. Xavier. I tense up nervously at the reminder of him. Those painful memories that I don't want to arouse are just around the corner, and suddenly, I find myself afraid to be alone.

"What is wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," I lie, smiling at him. "Going to eat breakfast?"

"No."

"Oh," I say uncertainly.

"I wanted to ask you something." I am silent, and Danny continues, "Are you certain that you would not consider Uzun Uyku?"

I take a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. "Yes. I'm sure."

There is a long silence, until, at last, I realize that we have training in a little bit, and I hurry away to change.

"What took you so long?" Ava snaps.

I turn away. "Nothing."

After training, I head straight to my bedroom, collapsing on my bed, and allow the visions to overwhelm me. Holding back does no good anymore. Everything just builds up inside, and I constantly feel as if I could burst.

On and on, images bombard me. War. Starvation. Murder. Death. Illness. Tragedy. Suffering. No, no, no. None of these things are happening. They aren't my life!

A hand shakes me, gently at first, then harder. Voices seem to be shouting for me in the distance, but I can't hear them. With sudden clarity, though, my eyes flash open, and I see his worried face above mine. "What is wrong? Emmaline? Emma?"

Shaking, I sit up, hugging my knees to my chest. Danny sits down beside me at the edge of the bed and hugs me to him. I bury my face into his chest, wishing that I were blind, that I could not see any of this. He strokes my head, and I just lay there.

After a few minutes, he whispers, "Why did you scream?"

I try to blink my tears away, but they refuse to stop coming. I want to lay here with Danny forever; never to face the world again, never have to die. Before, I was not afraid to die, perhaps because I had nothing to lose, but now, Danny is my world, everything, and I will lose him when I die. When you lose everything, what is your purpose any longer? I should never have let myself love him—I know firsthand how it feels to have a loved one die, and it leaves this little scar on your heart forever. "I... I Dreamed," I gasp into his shirt.

"You are strong," he murmurs to me.

No I'm not. I'm weak. As my body becomes stronger, I weaken. "No, Danny. I am weak. I am dying."

"We all are."

A little beeping sounds from my com, and I don't want to answer, but Danny lifts up my arm, directing the camera at us. The little screen shows Peter wearing his Spider-Man uniform, amidst a battle. "WE NEED BACKUP! NOW!"

I jump up, glad that I did not bother to change out of my uniform. Danny stands up beside me. "I am coming."

"No-"

"Yes." He pulls his mask over his eyes, and we rush to the center of New York City, where the Frightful Four are demolishing everything. I feel numb the entire way there, but as soon as we arrive, I start to buzz. Too many people.

We are immersed in the battle. Kick, hit, duck, smash, jump, shout—we fight. Peter and Ava both shout orders at everyone else, and I obey without question. Usually I would think weigh my every option, ignoring their commands, but today is different. From the corner of my eye, I spot Sam, flying, about to shoot at the Trapster.

"NO!" I scream, but before the words leave my mouth, I know it will be too late, so I jump. The Trapster leaps out of the way at the last minute, and I taste blood in my mouth as I see the poor girl who was hiding behind the trash can that the Trapster had been standing in front of. Miraculously, though, I manage to shield her, and the white light blinds me.

A metallic taste replaces the blood in my mouth, and I can feel the heavy pavement beneath me, scraping against the places where my skin is exposed. Blinking the stars away, I realize with a start that I feel better than I did before. I feel awake, refreshed by the energy. Once I manage to push myself up into a sitting position, I hold up my quivering hands to find that I have to hands.

"Huh?" I say thickly, the words catching on my tongue. I can feel my fingers, I can wiggle them, but I can't see them. It hits me; my hands are invisible. I glance down at my arms, my legs, but I can see the rest of me, just not my hands. It occurs to me that the force hit my hands first, so my hands should have absorbed the energy...

"Crud, crud, crud," Sam mutters, landing beside me. "That was so not my fault, was it?"

I open my mouth to tell him that it was actually kind of his fault, but I end up spitting out blood. I guess that I am bleeding after all.

Peter walks over, towards Sam, a smug look on his face. "Hey, Helmet Hair, while you missed the Trapster, Tiger and I 'trapped' the rest of the baddies! What do you have to say about—what the heck did you do to Emma?!"

Again, I try to speak up, and the words stumble out, slurred by blood. "He... blasted- me."

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Ava yells.

"'M... 'm fine... fine... see?" To prove my point, I stand up, only to find the world spinning, and I fall backwards, into Luke's arms. "Sorry..."

He picks me up, then (kindly) hands me to Danny. I grin lopsidedly at him. "'M good... good as chocolate cookies, see? I- I can stand, and, and stand, and I- love you- I you... see? All- all good..." I slur, giving them all a thumbs up before passing out.

M.M.M.M..MM.M.M.. ..M. ..M.M.M.M.M.M..MM..M.M.M.M.M.M.M.M.M.M.M..

I rub my head, trying to ignore the throbbing pain. "That sucked," I say to nobody in particular, opening my eyes to find myself still in Danny's arms as we walk back to the Tricarrier.

"You are awake."

"Yeah," I say, my head still aching. "Hey, my hands are back!"

"They were gone?"

"Um... yeah... well, invisible anyway..." I trail off, knowing all too well that I sound crazy.

"Oh." Danny pauses. "You are feeling better?"

"Yeah, I- Danny, right! Sharp right; lamppost ahead!" Once the brush with danger has been avoided, I try to resume the conversation. "I'm fine. You can put me down, if I'm kinda heavy and all."

"You have lost weight."

I look at Danny. "No I-"

"Look in the mirror when we are back at HQ, Emma. Sometimes we are most blind to the truths about ourselves."

"You can put me down," I repeat, even though I don't really want to walk.

"No."

"You're stubborn."

"Touche."

I sigh again, then lean my head back against his shoulder for the remainder of the way.

Back at the Tricarrier, I shove my way past everyone, oblivious to their questions, heading straight to my room. In my bathroom, I look in the mirror, trying to see if Danny is right.

My skin is pale, but that is probably just the bright indoor lighting. I look closer, though, and I start to see what he means; my skin clings to my small frame with a sense of desperation, and I realize that I'm not 'healthy slim', but actually underweight. Looking back, I suppose that this is just a "side effect of dying". I mean, who expects a dying person to be healthy looking?

With an air of defeat, I leave my bedroom, deciding that maybe meditation will help. At least if I meditate then I don't have to think about anything. When I open the door, though, an unexpected sight greets me.

Ava and Peter are sitting on the couch. Together. Making out.

I hastily try to make the door slide closed but (curse these stupid high-tech doors) before the little command panel can register that I've pressed the 'shut' button, they break apart, a brilliant shade of red spreading across their cheeks. Both still don their superhero uniforms, and Ava slides her mask over her face to try to hide the fact that she is blushing, but it's too late. I back away, jamming the 'close' button, but it's not working, and Ava grabs me by the wrist and drags me away, to her bedroom.

"Not. A. Word. To. Anyone."

I nod. "Sorry..."

Ava shakes her head. "Somebody was bound to find out about us. Eventually. You can keep a secret?"

Hollowly, I laugh. "Yeah. My whole life's been secrets, ya know?" I pause. "Why didn't you say anything? Tell anyone?"

She backs away, releasing my wrist, and turns her back to me, then says, "It was too dangerous, you know? The way nothing 'top secret' at S.H.I.E.L.D. seems to stay secret anymore—just look at this past year. I- I shouldn't be doing this. We're just endangering each other."

"Ava... you have a right to a life, you know. You can actually date people."

"You of all people should realize this, Em."

My stomach sinks horribly. Yes, I do. Danny and I dating caused a lot of trouble, and we have both almost caused the others death at some point (me hurting Danny more often than the other way around). It's been worth it, though. I know that Ava thinks she needs to be this calm, controlled, disciplined woman constantly, but she has a right to actually live. "I do. Don't get me wrong... but love's worth it, if you both want to take the risk, you know? It's like the best thing that ever happens—there's nothing like it. Everything's worth it, cuz you'd both die for each other."

"No. No. Other things come first. I have to get my priorities in order again," she says softly.

"Ava, you've got to live. You don't know when you're going to die! Is Peter worth it?"

Ava faces me again, but her eyes are hard now. "I shouldn't be doing this. We're just going to end up killing each other..." She closes her eyes for a moment. "But we both agreed. If it's a secret, and nobody knows..." With sudden ferocity, she takes me by the shoulders and viciously shakes me. "You're not going to tell anybody, right?!"

I firmly remove her hands from my shoulders, before replying, "I won't breath a word, 'K?"

Breathing hard, Ava nods. I start to walk away, but as I am about to leave, she hugs me. "Thanks. I'm sorry..."

"It's worth it," I whisper to her, walking into the hallway. A little droplet of water splashes onto my nose, and I look up. Peter is perched on the ceiling, dripping slightly, waiting.

He looks down at me questioningly. "What did-"

I smile at him, innocently saying, "Hmm? Ava and I were just discussing her calculus. She's been helping me since we got back. What are you doing?"

Gratefully, Peter grins back. "Oh... uh... just hanging around..."

"See ya later," I say, tossing the words nonchalantly behind me, deciding to fix myself some lunch. Typically, I pass by Sam on the way, who stops me.

"Have you seen Web Head?"

"No..." I lie. "Why? What's your latest prank?"

Sam grins at me. "Oh, I just found some dirt on him."

Guilt settles in my gut. "Like what...?"

"Like... he wears teddy bear underwear!"

I give him a look. Everybody has realized that after this morning's prank. "And you wear bunny rabbit ones, I'm sure. Who cares?"

Sam cringes, glancing ominously around the hallway. "Second thought, see you around later."

I shrug to myself, wondering what Sam is plotting (and why he cringed), and go about making myself a salad. Danny walks in as I sit down, and slides into the chair across from me.

"Hey, Danny, does Sam have something against underwear?"

"Not that I am aware of. Why?" Danny looks curious.

"I ran into him earlier, and he was chatting about how he had some 'dirt' on Peter- apparently Spider-Man wears teddy bear underwear to bed- and I told him that was silly; that Sam probably wears bunny undies or something, and he dashed away."

A smile spreads across Danny's face. The first casual, humorous smile that I have seen in a long time. "Ah... yes. Sam loves rabbits. Especially albino ones."

I raise my eyebrow. "What did you guys do to him?"

"Long story short: Nightmare infiltrated everyone's dreams, I saw Sam's, and Peter decided to have a little... fun. It really was quite hilarious at the time," he adds, his grin widening at the memory.

"I'm sure it was," I giggle, picturing my version of what must have happened.

Grouchily, Sam stomps into the kitchen, removing the jug of milk from the refrigerator. "Says you." He casts an angry glare at Danny before downing the rest of the gallon. A look of horror appears on his face, and Sam rushes to the sink, spitting out the mouthful of milk.

"Expires: June 20th, of one year ago," I read, scooping the jug from the floor where Sam dropped it. "Nice and ripe. Taste any better after having so much time to sit? Did it curdle in your mouth like cheese?"

"That is incredibly disgusting," Danny remarks.

Sam begins rinsing his mouth with water. When he emerges at last, his eyes portray absolute fury. "DIE! PETER, YOU'RE DEAD!"

"Last time I checked, I was alive," Peter taunts, his voice echoing through the ventilation system, and with a roar of anger, Sam charges off after the Web Head. I shake my head. That was a very dumb thing to do, needless to say.

"Think Peter's been saving that milk all year? Boy, what a waste."

"It would not surprise me," Danny says, his face emotionless, but his words laden with amusement.

"They've been telling each other to 'die' a lot lately," I say.

"An abundance of negative energy," Danny remarks, with evident purpose as to where he wishes to direct the conversation.

"Not now. Not here."

"Why not?"

"Just... no, okay?" I stand, pushing my chair in, and return to my room, reading a book until dinner. I can't concentrate, though—my eyes skim over the letters without noticing the words they form, so by the time I have finished, I know nothing more about what just happened to Jessica than when I started.

Walking into the kitchen, I can smell the delicious aroma of pasta. Sam must have cooked dinner again tonight.

"Hey," he greets me, removing the pan of lasagna from the oven. "Spinach lasagna!"

"Yum," I say. "Thanks for cooking dinner." I slide into the chair next to Danny. Everybody except Peter is already sitting at the table. Mrs. Parker looks out of place amongst the rest of us, despite her youthful personality. Her lips are thin, and pressed together in the manner of one who is constantly anxious; I should know, because that's the way I used to be all of the time. I've long since given up on constant worry, though. Or at least I had thought.

Just as Sam begins serving the food, Peter strolls in, his face glum, and collapses into the seat next to his aunt. He is wearing his Spider-Man uniform, without the mask. In response to our confused looks, he rolls his eyes, and shoves a bite of lasagna into his mouth.

Dinner is awkward. It's only the second time that Mrs. Parker has eaten with us, and even though she is a good conversationalist in general, the rest of us don't have much to say. Now that I think about it, I see Ava and Peter glancing at each other every so often, before quickly redirecting their gaze to the table, neither of them saying much throughout the meal. Sam maintains a fairly steady stream of talking with Mrs. Parker for the first part of dinner, but since they are the only people talking, their voices soon die away. Luke glances from Danny to me and back again occasionally, but doesn't say anything.

I stare at my food. It is delicious, but I'm not hungry. The only mind-numbing sound is the clatter of silverware against plates, which fades into but a small background noise. I find myself beginning to nod away, and continuously force myself to keep my eyes open.

He pressed a knife, cold and unforgiving, to her throat. "You didn't actually think I was telling the truth, did you?" he breathed into her ear. "You did!" His laughter was chillier than the knife's blade, and she felt goose bumps on her arms.

"Well," he continued, his words raw, echoing through the basement, "I lied."

The tears gathered in her eyes, but she blinked fiercely, biting her tongue as she tried to hold back the flood. They came, though, hot and fast, like rivers of fire crawling down her cheeks.

"They're all dead. Gone. What do you have to say to that?"

Nothing. Liz had nothing to say; there was nothing left to feel. Everything was gone. This man was worse than a thief of jewels or riches, for he was a stealer of lives, and nothing is worth the life of a loved one—nothing she could possibly do would ever force him to repay his debt.

His heart was stoney, and he did not regret the blood on his hands. It was obvious from the confidence in his voice, the way his hand was firm and unwavering as he waved the tools of death before her eyes. She had nothing to say, because what could you say to one that you hated with your entire being? One that she wished to damn to tenfold her suffering, their suffering, but could not; for how could you hurt one who did not feel?

The edge of the blade cut into her skin, and the warm flow of blood was comforting to her frozen skin as her life ebbed away. Liz was happy to die, though, for death was the only way she would be able to see them again.

However, the murder disliked her silence. He wanted her to scream, so he twisted the blade further down into her chest, and relished the horrific sounds that he drew from her mouth.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" I scream, because my entire body feels like it was on fire, the pain licking my skin, and, shaking, I try to open my eyes, but they will not cooperate.

Warm, comforting hands press against the flames, extinguishing them, and I can see again, people floating around me. Their concerned faces are trying to tell me something, but I cannot hear them, so I squeeze my eyes shut again, letting the pain drown me into oblivion.

A soft voice drew me back in. I cling to the unintelligible words, unable to decipher anything of meaning, but the rhythm to which he spoke was constant, and the agony begins to ebb away, until only a small, dull sense of fear is left.

The putrid stench of death lingers as I reopen my eyes.

"What the hell just happened?!"

"Uh... dude... I think she's going to pass out again..."

I shake my head, trying to clear away the stray thoughts. "No I'm not." Their eyes are wide with worry, and I can tell that nobody believes me. "Why am I on the floor?"

"You fell of your chair," Peter supplies. "When you screamed. After you, ya know, fell asleep on the table."

"That was not sleep," Danny says grimly.

Stupid. Stupid. Why can't anything go right today? My day is starting so suck. A lot. Wait, starting to? It's sucked since I woke up this morning and saw Peter with his mustache. "Like hell it was sleep," Ava agrees.

Faintly, I turn away from them, pushing Danny's hand away. "I'm fine. It's nothing. Just tired. I should get to bed, I guess." I want to be angry and irritable with them, but it's not their fault. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mrs. Parker standing uncertainly back, not sure what she should be doing. After all, she does not exactly know me. Peter told her I'm dying of a genetic disease a while back, and someone like her would have noticed that I was good 'friends' with Danny, not to mention slightly distanced from the rest of my team.

Shakily, I use the table to help me stand up, and with a weak half smile, I start walking to my bedroom. They just stare at me, like I owe them an actual explanation. Which I do. Sort of. The trouble is, properly explaining this kind of thing just isn't possible—not safely, anyway. So I take the easiest route (for once) and leave behind all of their unanswered questions.

Ava catches up with me, matching my quickly-paced but unsteady stride. "What's up with you today?"

"Nothing."

"Sam sure messed you up after this morning's mission. Stupid Bucket Head."

"Sam did not mess me up, 'K? I'm fine, like I said. It was just a stupid Dream."

She scrutinizes me closely. "I think you need to talk to Danny 'bout this."

"Yeah, well, I don't! I'm fine."

I hurry to my bedroom, but sleep brings no comfort; just more Dreams. I am so restless that by the next morning I may as well have not slept at all.

I have this feeling that my friends will want to know what happened yesterday, but I decide that I don't want to talk about it, and don't go to breakfast. Around ten, though, somebody knocks on the door.

"Come in."

Danny stands in the doorway.

"No. I'm not talking about it."

"Kundalini?"

I relax at his offer. "Yeah."

The movements are relaxing, but I notice little strings of energy trailing my hands as I flow from one position to the next. They emit a soft, radiant glow, and each string is a different color. For a moment, I pause, staring, then a thought occurs to me. I carefully push my hands closer and closer together, bunching the bits of energy into a multicolored ball that fills the room with light.

"What are you doing?"

I jerk my hands away from the ball of energy, which stays there, floating. "Danny... what does Chi energy look like?"

"Emma... what did you just do?"

"Tell me. What does Chi look like?"

He sighs. "It is our life force, the energies of our bodies."

"Is it colorful?"

"Yes."

I stare at the little ball of energy, then, carefully, scoop it up with my hand. It feels warm, and good. Different from other types of energy, but somehow, I doubt it's Chi. Then I take it and sort of push it into my chest, and, inexplicably, I feel excited. Almost hyper, but different. More peaceful.

"Danny... can you make your Iron Fist?"

He closes his eyes, concentrating. I flick off the lights and watch the energies around his fist, mesmerized by their beauty. For the first time, his fist is not glowing a bright yellow. No. It is as though it is aflame, the tongues of a rainbow of energy licking around his hand, lighting the entire room. Breathlessly, I try to say something, but this is beyond words.

Suddenly, the glow fades away as Danny's fist returns to normal. "What did you see?" he asks me quietly.

"Wow. Danny, wow."

"You saw the Chakras and my Chi?"

I let out a long breath. "I have no idea. It was beautiful."

"It is, yes."

"Just... wow."

"What?"

"There's so much energy everywhere. Like, before I could feel it, but now I can see it." Suddenly, I feel ashamed, to be talking of how beautiful something appears when Danny cannot see. "I'm sorry..."

"For what?"

"Just... you know..." I say vaguely. "I'm just sorry 'bout... everything, really."

Danny doesn't say anything as he calmly transitions into Ustrasana (the camel pose). At last, he says, "Life is precious, and fleeting. 'Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is an eternity'."

"Henry Van Dyke?" I ask.

He nods, shifting to Parsva Ustrasana (the side camel pose). "Buddha wisely told us, 'The trouble is, you think you have time.'"

"But we don't, do we?" I say quietly. "Nine months, is that really much time? It's no time at all, truthfully."

"It is not the number of days you have left, but how much life is in those days that will matter in the end."

I hug my legs to my chest, struggling with my words. "I know. It's just... I want longer, you know? I don't feel ready. I mean, I'm prepared, but I don't want to. I'm not some elderly person who thinks it's their 'time'. I'll be nineteen. People die way younger than that, I know, but I feel cheated—I just got myself all pulled together, got a life, and then Fate's like, oh, well, you love a man, and you've found family, time for you to die. I guess I'm not really pulled together, more like I'm falling apart, but still..."

Danny looks so sad that I almost regret telling him this. Almost. He sits down next to me and drapes his arm over my shoulder, pulling me closer. "You do not have to. I want you to live. You can do Uzun Uyku, Emma..."

"No. I can't."

He tightens his grip. "You are the best candidate that anyone has seen in centuries."

"I'm not worried about me. I'm not willing to risk somebody to be my Dünya Tutun."

"I am willing."

"Yeah, and I'm not," I say, staring at the floor. We've had this exact conversation too many times.

Danny gently turns me to face him, leaning in closer, so that our noses nearly bump. "This. This is special. It is Love. Unconditional Love. The greatest thing in the world. Greater than any risk or fear. It is eternal. One of the few things that lasts forever, no matter what happens. And it means that I will be your İlk ve Tek Aşk, your Dünya Tutun." Then he leans in and kisses me.

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A/N: Yeah, tad sappy of an ending for a chapter, but I felt kind of bad for making them suffer, especially with what's coming up for them.

Thank you for the reviews:

leggo lover 99: Aw, thank you! =)

TheOnyxDragon12: I'm never going to get on your bad side...

Hamster1000: Yes. Or you could use logic. To quote Peter: "Now all I need to do is sit back and watch logic work its sweet magic."

Nerdy-Tomboy: I sincerly hope that I'm a good enough writer to make you cry at the climax. I know that my sis, Hamster1000 will cry for sure (softie), but I'm not sure about the rest of you...

Sorry for the long wait! Oh, by the way, as soon as school starts, my updates will be irregular, though there will be at least one chapter per week. I'll give you a heads up before that happens. I hope the chapter's length helps make up for the wait (though the content probably doesn't...). Thanks to TheOnyxDragon12 for helping me out! And Hamster1000 for annoying me the whole time!

-FFS