_ Insert usual disclaimer.

I didn't receive a great deal or response from my request for reviews so I'm somewhat at a loss as to what to do so I forge ahead and hope for greater counsel in the future.

Chapter 26

Crossroads

Dean had never seen Dixon, the master of composure, as shocked as when he opened his eyes in the hospital. He had been vaguely aware of activity around him which neither surprised nor troubled him. A three story fall wasn't a great worry. He'd lived through worse and had confidence in his Quradu healing abilities, but seeing a spear of glass sticking out of his chest he fully expected to be in a hospital when he woke up. Dean struggled to a sitting position and looked around at all the beeping monitors.

"Was I that bad off?" he asked.

"Yes." Dixon answered still very wide eyed, "Dean, you shouldn't be alive."

"We Winchesters don't die that easy." Was all Dean could come up with at the moment, "Let's get out of here."

"I wouldn't advise it." Dixon protested, "You've been in a coma for four days. Please let the doctors look after you. I've brought the finest from around the country."

"I appreciate it, I really do." Dean responded moved by Dixon's efforts on his behalf.

Before Dean could complete his thought Doctor Lena Tennyson entered the room, froze and for a moment allowed her jaw to drop. She looked from Dixon to Dean and back again, gave her head a good shake and muttered something Dean didn't need to translate and Dixon whispered something back 'Later.' Dean had more pressing matters to attend to so he ignored her.

"They'll have questions I can't answer." Dean found himself pointing out the obvious, "Trust me Dix, I wouldn't be awake if I wasn't alright."

"You'll have to explain this too me." Dixon stated while trying to help Dean to his feet despite the hunter's protests.

With stiff limps, and aches and pains he didn't understand, getting dressed proved an arduous task. Dean found it humiliating to struggle under Lena's angry glare. Dixon gave her a warning look keeping her silent, but Dean could feel an increased intensity in the buzz emanating from her that felt like nails on a chock board. 'What was she so pissed about,' he wondered, 'sorry I lived?' There were too many people crowding in on his blissfully autonomous life of late. Amid protests from everyone save Dixon, Dean signed himself out and shuffled out the door as quickly as he could. The Barbaru doctor followed them to the parking lot and, unable to keep her silence, demanded an explanation for Dean's miraculous recovery.

"You demand?" Dean barked at her, "Since when do I answer to you?"

"Since our Belu began traveling with you." She retorted with equal force and accusation, "You're not human are you?"

"My partner's the only one I owe explanations to." Dean snarled back then added, "FYI, I'm very human."

He stopped his shuffle put a hand on the Impala and glared at Dixon who was leading him to the passenger side of the car.

"And what are you doing?" He asked.

"You are weak, unsteady and having difficulty walking, not to mention that for the past four days everyone's been waiting for you to die." declared Dixon, the leader of men, "Bloody hell, you are in no condition to drive."

"I'll let you know …" Dean began then paused and changed his mind. He was having trouble just holding his head up. "Fine but you be careful with my baby."

They left Lena fuming in the hospital parking lot and Dean promptly forgot about her. It felt strange having someone other than Sam behind the wheel of his baby. He told himself Dixon had earned the right. Dean had to make a consorted effort to convince himself of this, but managed it. They drove in silence a few minutes more before Dean asked how badly he had been hurt. He expected a painful chest and perhaps tenderness from a broken bone or two but was surprised by the dull headache and pain all over. Dixon described finding him in a pool of blood, with a three foot piece of glass sticking out of his chest and another in his throat. The blood flow from the carotid artery was partially stopped by the glass and no one was foolish enough to pull it out but despite Dixon's best efforts blood continued to slowly oozed from both wounds until the helicopter arrived. He added as an after thought that Dean also had a fractured skull and multiple contusions and lacerations.

Dean knew a person could bleed out in a matter of minutes and it took the helicopter fifteen minutes to arrive. In that time blood had soaked into his cloths from his neck to his heals Dixon told him. When they lifted him to the stretch it dribbled from his hands and heels like a slow running faucet. The paramedics estimated Dean had lost five or six pints before being airlifted. He should have been dead. Dean could see Dixon looking at him with the steady quiet gaze he used when waiting for something. Needing time to sort his thoughts Dean closed his eyes and slouched down in the seat. Dieing and coming back, he was getting used to that, but not dieing when he should have, was a little spooky.

Often Dean reminded Dixon of a wild colt, wild free and full of zeal. His laugh was unrestrained, he indulged his needs for food drink and female company with great pleasure and passion, and he spoke his mind with bold honesty without fear of consequence. He was Dean and if Dixon or anyone else didn't like it they would just half to deal or move on. Dixon had forgotten how it felt to be so free. He once been so free and longed for those days. Alone on the road the restraints of office began to fade away and Dixon learned to laugh again. But there was another side of Dean that was never far away. Even in a bar hustling pool, picking up a girl or just playing darts with Dixon he could see, like a shadow following behind Dean, the soldier aware of his surroundings posed to act at the first sign of danger. He reminded Dixon of the Celts of old indulging in life like it was an all you can eat buffet whether he was eating, drinking, making love or fighting. Dixon felt like a kid looking through the window at a closed candy store, his mouth watering, but look was all he could do.

But as captivated as Dixon was by Dean there was always a voice in the back of his mind telling him something was wrong. It was something in Dean's eyes that bespoke of terrible knowledge, and inexorable and unapologetic purpose that was beyond Dixon's comprehension. this more than anything else motivated The Barbaru to keep the relationship platonic. The Barbaru were by nature a passionate people but Dixon was not one to be ruled by his heart much less by lust. The simple fact that humans had such short life spans made romantic attachments problematic at best and, thought it had not been forbidden for centuries, cross species relationships were greatly discouraged. But love is not a rational thing and no matter how hard the mind tries to control it the heart will wonder where it will. As January became February and February March Dixon, found himself getting lost in Dean's beautiful green eyes as he listened to the deep gravely voice that would reach into his heart and make it race. After watching Dean's life blood pool around him, Dixon knew whatever that terrible purpose was it wouldn't matter but as he pulled into the parking lot of a little inn off the highway he was resolved that this would be the day for answers.

The Mountain Inn was a cozy little two story white clapboard building not dissimilar from the Angel Inn. The only thing that kept the Inn from disappearing in the snow was the dark green trim. The Mountain Inn consisted of a comfortable little foyer, a restaurant to one side of the lobby a pub on the other, and a dozen rooms on the second floor. They pulled into the inn only a half hour after leaving the hospital and Dixon had Dean resting only minutes later. Dean flopped onto the bed exhausted by the effort it took to climb the stairs. He just wanted to sleep but Dixon wasn't having it.

"Dean, you're faster, stronger and more agile than any normal human being and you have the hearing and vision of a cat." Dixon said as he sat in a big overstuffed chair by Dean's bed, "Now you've healed in days from wounds that would have killed anyone else. Will you please trust me."

After a long painful silence Dean nodded, "I will after a little rest. Why don't you grab a shower and some lunch. You look almost as bad as I feel."

Dixon could see the exhaustion etched in the hunter's face and knew even if it was in him to push he would get nothing from Dean. Besides, he desperately wanted a shower and food Barbaru style.

Dean had doubts about the Barbaru being able to adjust to life on the road. Though Dixon never lost his congenial smile it was clear to Dean that he was not comfortable on this side of the fence but there was nothing to be done. People in plush suites and five star restaurants were remember and hunters had to blend into the woodwork. He did prove to be a very attentive student, always asking questions and making considerable effort to understand and master new skills. Well most of them. Dean couldn't blame him for not enjoying research. Few people liked it and in Dixon's case, being so removed from the human world made it much more difficult for him to identify the unusual. On the other hand Dean enjoyed watching a member of the rich and powerful reduced to doing the dirty work, not to mention having to take orders from white trash, but he made a concerted effort to hide this guilty pleasure from Dixon.

Laughing at someone was not conducive to forming an alliance and that was Dean's primary goal. Moreover Dean was enjoying having someone he could laugh with and have a beer and play darts with. Someone who wasn't brooding and always getting drunk or solemn and disapproving. Or someone he didn't have to look after and worry about twenty four seven who was frequently disapproving. Dixon let Dean be himself without question or judgement and his ready wit and dry sense of humour brought merriment to almost any occasion. Dean was making a friend and having fun.

Acknowledging Dixon as the more qualified hunter in the hills of Virginia seemed to go a long way to cementing their relationship. Dixon saw it as a show of trust but to Dean it was simple common sense. Dixon new goblins. From what the Barbaru described it seemed they were kissing cousins to trolls living underground and hunting children for food. They even looked alike. Where they differed was that trolls hunted every week and more and cooked their food while goblins only hunted once every six to eight weeks, took women as well as children and ate there victims, aged but raw. From the hunting perspective the difference to note was size and speed. With goblins being smaller but quicker catching it would be the issue.s

Dean saw the goblin hunt as a bonding moment in their relationship. The show of respect and trust by Dean brought down the last vestiges of Dixon' formality. Dixon's revelation about his sexual preferences, or rather his lack of a preference cast a shadow over the moment. Having already proved his mettle Dean could have ignored the disclosure, but accusing him of being bisexual threw him through a loop.

Dean never considered himself a bigoted person and that included homosexuality. He wasn't for or against it, he didn't care one way or another. Dean felt what consenting adults did in private was none of his business and thus never gave it a great deal of thought, yet he found being accused of any form of homosexuality offensive. Dean didn't know why he was so upset until while arguing the point with Dixon he found himself snarling that weakness wasn't tolerated in Winchester men.

Limp wrested, weak and timid fairies was a dieing stereotype of gay men but one his marine father held too. Dean couldn't remember a specific occasion when John used such language but he had made his feelings known. John's attitudes left their mark on him making him uncomfortable with Dixon.

The Barbaru was proving himself a good hunter and, though months had passed without any sighting of Meg, Dean still felt he had much to loose in severing their ties. He decided to chalk the accusation up to a simple misunderstanding by Dixon. He added gay stereotype to the list of things that John had taught him that he was trying to erase from his mind and slipped back into their routine with one exception. Dean began wearing sweets to bed.

In Mississippi Dixon proved a worthy substitute for Sam. After weeks of watching him pumping people for information Dean decided to put Dixon's superior interpersonal skills to the test. He explained at length what they needed to find out from the subjects then let Dixon take the initiative. With his prim and proper manner he played the part of the health and welfare inspector to perfection requiring little prompting from Dean. Using a gentle coxing manner Dixon drew copious amounts of information out of the victims families, not to mention doctors the medical examiner and the law. However he did prove a little nervous as Dean's lookout while they broke into several offices. Dixon admitted he was not alien to illegal activity but for his part it was usually of a white collar nature.

"Sneaky comes natural to people like us." Dean assured him, "All you need is practice."

Acquiring the psychiatric records of the suicide victims proved to be the most importation piece of information in identifying a gargoyle as the culprit. It also raised the question, 'How could doctors not see that half a dozen people having the same hallucination was suspicious.'

Seeing Dixon grow frustrated and angry while hunting the gargoyle was comforting. It was obvious how important self discipline was to Dixon and Dean had little doubt the Barbaru would not again so easily loose control but it was good to know those emotions exist. It made him more human.

Destroying the gargoyle was one to celebrate and after putting a few hundred miles between them and the once afflicted town they stopped at a pool hall to acquire funds to be followed by drinks and girls. Jake, the mark Dean had hustled for six hundred dollars caught him at the door expecting a quickie in the ally. Dean went cold inside and rebuked him roughly. Jake appeared completely taken aback by Dean's response to his suggestion and followed him outside to expressed his disappointment loudly and forcefully. To make matters worse two of Jake's buddies noticed how agitated their friend had become and came looking for him.

Dean was grateful Dixon didn't hit him with any I told you so's. In point of fact his partner was in his corner. While Dean was ready to knock heads Dixon started out trying to keep everyone calm (especially Dean) using phrases like 'unfortunate misunderstanding'. He stopped playing peace maker when the phrase 'You owe me.' was thrown out. Dixon unleashed with a few harsh words of his own and when the pool player proved unimpressed the Barbaru picked up the two hundred and fifty pound man and threw him into a wall while Dean took care of his two buddies.

On the brief ride back to the motel Dean occupied his mind by asking what bullocks meant and what a bloody git and a sodding wanker was pointing out that when Dixon lost it he 'turned totally British'. They kept up the laughter until the lights were turned out. Then it hit Dean like a ton of bricks. Being called a 'cock-teaser' had serious ramifications that made his head spin and his stomach. As long as it was only Dixon making the accusation Dean could ignore it, even laugh at it, but a stranger and two of his buddies made a world of difference.

Dean wished he stuck to the rougher bars where homosexuals didn't dare go much less be open about what they were but Dixon's suggestion that up scale bars had wealthier pigeons to pluck was worth a try and proved accurate. Earning hundreds of dollars off one mark left more time for cruising girls and general merrymaking. Who cared if the music sometimes sucked. Well Dean did but what the hell, the money was good and the girls really liked his bad boy image. He never expected this pit fall.

'Do not fear who you are or what you will become for there is nothing in you to be ashamed of. '

Easy for you to say Dean thought. Despite his best efforts to unlearn some of the lessons taught by John, Dean couldn't help feeling that being gay in any way brought his virility into question. Though his success with women was no longer as important to his self esteem it was still an important part if who he was, once more it would impact on his father's and possibly Sam's opinion of him and that was terrifying.

When Dixon first began to tell his story Dean saw it as a distraction but when his intent became clear Dean didn't want to hear it. He wanted to shove the matter into the back of his mind and ignore it until it went away. After all denial was a coping mechanism Winchesters had refined to an art form. Why should he care about what a bunch of ancient Greeks did? But Dixon would not be silenced and he had one hell of a big finish. It slammed in the face of John's weakness issues and gave Dean food for thought. But later that very night while Dean tried to rid himself of troubling thoughts that pop into his head unbidden he stumbled across an argument against bisexuality. Dean had never felt sexually attracted to a man, to any man.

In the weeks that followed Dean began looking at men and asking the question, 'What if anything about him is sexy?' He graded them on a one to ten scale for physical appeal but was thinking in terms of competition not attraction. They simply didn't do it for him. His confidence in his heterosexual status began to grow until he noticed the groove of Dixon's mouth was rather prominent giving it a soft sweet curve and found himself thinking he could kiss that mouth. The moment the thought crossed his mind he was mortified. He tried to shrug it off on the grounds that Dixon's mouth was feminine and therefore it was acceptable to find it attractive but his powers of denial began to falter for which he held Dixon personally responsible. His efforts to express resentment of the man he had come to think of as friend and partner were at best weak and often amusing. It also resulted in his being thrown out a window.

'Believe me, you are truly a man's man so stop being so provincial.' Dixon said with a self satisfied grin as he made himself comfortable in the princess bed.

Though Dean appreciated Dixon's high opinion of his masculinity he didn't think the Barbaru should be so amused by his discomfort. It was a strange quark of fate that Dean's annoyance prompted the discovery of the seldom active spirit's trigger. As Dean lay on the ground below the window quickly growing tired and a little giddy he thought, he should have known a princess wouldn't like the word 'bitch'.

Dixon nodded his agreement and Dean closed his eyes and began to chant. Almost instantaneously Dean was by the lakes shore and watching gulls with Castiel standing beside him. Dean tried to feel the peace that always came from this scene but despite the inexplicable sense of normal he felt, he was far to anxious to relax.

"I am pleased you have recovered." Castiel greeted him.

"Me too, but how did I do it?" Dean responded, "Did any other Quradu come back from something like that?"

"I admit it is unprecedented." Castiel acknowledged.

"But is it possible or is something else going on here?" Dean pressed, growing agitated.

"I don't known." Castiel admitted.

"Can you find out if Michael or someone had a hand in it, maybe Zachariah?" Dean asked almost pleading, "I need to know what's happening to me."

"I will make inquiries."Castiel agreed.

"Very discretely." Dean cautioned, "We don't need anyone wondering why you'd suspect something like that.

"That would be undesirable." Castiel agreed then advised, "Feed your body with large amounts of protein and sugars to restore your energy. I will return when I have an answer."

"Thanks Cass." Dean said but Cass was already gone and the peaceful lake faded away.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Though it felt like he had closed his eyes only minutes ago the sun was beginning to set when Dean opened them to find Dixon sitting by the bed. If not for the clean cloths Dean would have thought he'd never moved. Dixon said nothing, only stared and waited.

"I don't know how I survived." Dean opened with the truth and added, "I don't mind admitting, I'm a little freaked."

Dixon's whole posture shifted from determined to concerned. His face softened, his eyes mellowed and he leaned forward placing a hand on Dean's arm.

"Is there anything you can tell me?" Dixon asked as he gently patted the arm, "Any suspicions or possibilities? Perhaps we can puzzle this out."

"You ever hear of the Quradu?" Dean asked and when Dixon nodded he pointed to his bag, "In my bag under a false bottom is my codex. Can you get it?"

"You're Quradu? Of course, I should have guessed." Dixon said with a big smile, "That explains everything. Are all hunters Quradu?"

"Fraid not. I'm the only one." Dean answered bringing Dixon up short, "Not just anybody can be. It's a curtain blood line."

"And your brother?" Dixon asked as he pulled the codex out of the bag.

"For reasons I can't go into training him right now would be dangerous." Dean admitted, "He doesn't want to be a hunter anyway." Dean took the book from Dixon and tried to read but closed his eyes, and handed it back, "Damn it, I'm still to tired. I need protein and sugar to build up my strength, lots of it. Here, Akkadian is a form of Sumerian. You might be able to read it. The section on healing is about a quarter way in."

"You understand Sumerian?" Dixon asked turning a little pink.

"Pretty much." Dean grinned not the least ashamed.

"Bleeding brat." Dixon muttered with a reluctant grin, "Do I have any secretes?"

"Not a lot. I know you're not human but I don't know what you are." Dean admitted, "Maseru Barbaru, guardian wolf," he translated "is a pretty big clue though. Dixon this trusting has to be two ways. I showed you mine now you show me yours."

Dixon went into lock down. He put the book down folded his hands on his lap and appeared to be looking at him but Dean could see his eyes weren't focused on him. Dixon's mind was spinning, calculating, weighing, measuring, assessing his next move. Dean knew he had asked a lot. Dean was exposing only himself to danger if he was trusting the wrong person but Dixon had many other lives to consider. Dean wondered if he even had the right to ask. Castiel had vouched for him and that should have been enough but secrets were a dangerous thing and Dean wanted to be rid of a few. Finely Dixon nodded, his decision made, he rose from his chair and took several steps away.

"Do you recall saying you didn't know if shape shifters were evil by nature or choice?" He asked, "I don't know about the ones that change into over people but we are a race of shape shifters that have never considered evil." He paused and grinned, "Well perhaps a few lean toward it just a little."

With that Dixon's arms began to elongate then his whole body reshaped itself and before Dean stood an enormous copper streaked, light brown wolf. Dean fought his way to his feet and slowly approached the wolf who's back reached Dean's waist and his head was higher than Dean's.

"Son of a bitch." Dean breathed, "This is amazing. Hey, what happened to your cloths?"

Dixon quickly shifted back and answered, "Natural materials shift with us however synthetics do not. We seem to absorb whatever we are wearing and turn them into fur however no matter what we wear our fur is the colour of our hair."

"Cool. Totally cool dude." Dean marvelled but began to wobble and crawled back into bed, "Dude do not show that to any other hunter including my dad. Most have an 'if it's supernatural it's evil and we kill it' attitude."

The hunter's reaction was better than Dixon had hoped, to good. Dean had proved under fire he was a master of self control. Behind the happy grin and dancing eyes, Dean could be planning to kill him as soon as he went to sleep. Dixon hoped and prayed Dean would ask question, show concern, something to indicate everything wasn't all bright and shiny. Complete and unquestioning acceptance simply wasn't normal behavior for any hunter least of all Dean. Maybe he was merely making himself comfortable and organizing his thoughts before beginning the interrogation. Yes, his eyes were particularly sharp and focused. He was lulling Dixon into a false sense of security before beginning his investigation. Dixon made himself comfortable in the chair by the bed prepared to answer all question and worry about having to face the council, another time.

Castiel had said the Barbaru could be trusted and Dixon was sincere but couldn't he have mentioned the shape shifter thing? Maseru Barbaru, Guardian Wolf, he had suspected something, perhaps wolf genes like the genetically engineered Max of 'Dark Angel', but never suspected he was a wolf. It opened a major can of worms. He could imagine the fall out if he introduced his new partner, the shape shifter, to his father. The Winchester style heated discussion could hospitalize anyone in the immediate vicinity. Hunters like Gordon and Kubrick would simply open fire. Dean could see nothing good coming out of this. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples trying to fend off the headache he knew was on it's way.

"I'll order food for you. Protein and sugars?" Dixon asked picking up the phone and Dean nodded, "The menu here is limited but the food is good. How about a couple of bacon cheese burgers and a plate of pastries?" and Dean nodded again.

When Dean finely opened his eyes he asked, "How much trouble will you be in for telling me you're a shape shifter?"

"Loads." Dixon answered in a word but Dean narrowed his eyes which meant not enough info, "It's happened in our history that we've revealed ourselves to humans but only in a time of great crisis and never without much deliberation by the council. To expose ourselves without cause and consideration is a crime."

"When you talk to your people remember, I speak Sumerian." Dean made an important point, "I already knew you weren't human and that it had something to do with wolves."

Yes that was true. As the sweeping implications of that statement tumbled through Dixon's mind his worries about the council began to shrink and his formal reserved manner faded away. Well able to focus on the here and now, he picked up the menu.

Funny Dixon thought how the hamburger seemed to be a staple on most menus including a few five star restaurants. The little Inn didn't have room service but it called up when the order was ready and made no objection to them eating in the room. In the meantime Dixon hunted and found the section in the codex on healing and with a little help from Dean began to read it. While Dean devoured his burger platters and the entire plate of pastries. Dixon continued to perused the codex struggling with the confusing dialect while Dean went through an extra large meat lovers with double cheese and a box of doughnuts. By the time Dean finely slowed down Dixon had come to the conclusion that he wasn't going to find anything Dean hadn't.

Dixon groaned in frustration as he lay the book on the bed then asked, "Has anything like this ever happened before?"

"Nope, not that I'm complaining." Dean smirked, "Heaven is a total drag and Hell is well, hell."

Maintaining perfect composure Dixon took a wild shot in the dark and asked, "How many times have you been there?"

Unable to sense Dixon's feeling Dean had made a study of his moods and expressions. Dean always had a good sense of what cards the wolf was holding at least ninety percent of the time. This was one of the rare moments when he couldn't. Dean's poker instincts told him Dixon was bluffing. He knew nothing for a fact but he clearly knew there was something to know. Truth the oracle's voice screamed but this time Dean paused to argue. This wasn't Sam who needed to learn so much before it was to late or his father who had to be saved from himself. On the other hand powerful bonds could be formed between partners when one puts his life on the line. Dixon had placed an enormous amount of faith and trust in him before he even put foot inside the Impala. In very short order Dean had stopped looking over his shoulder even if he did began wearing sweets to bed.

"I remember dieing four times but I've been told I've died over a hundred times, and you." Dean answered.

Courage does not exist without fear. Sacrifice without loss simply isn't. Dixon had been feeling a lacking in his life but didn't know what it was until he joined this hunter on the road. Hunting had become relatively risk free. Oh yes he felt that rush that came with any form of hunt and the satisfaction of destroying a monster but there was an emptiness in him. He hadn't had to strive or struggle or give up anything in so long he had forgotten how it felt. Since he joined Dean on the road struggle and sacrifice had become his daily fair and victory was not always assured. It was not only the man he had come to value and respect but the passion and unpredictability he brought to Dixon's life. But did that give him the right to take such an enormous risk. Risk, that was the key. So little could be gained without risk and before him was not only a man but the world of spirits and demons which he dearly needed to gain.

"I have never died. We are very difficult to kill and very few of us have been? Dixon stepped out in faith, "How old are you, do you know? I mean your soul of course."

The truth fearlessly. Why did that oracle scream in his head every time he tried to dodge something? How did she program that phrase into him? It never bothered him when he was passing himself off as a cop, a reporter, or anything else. Would Dixon become a key figure in stopping the apocalypse? Dean desperately wished she would either fill him in on the plan or let him create his own. TRUTH TRUTH TRUTH, his head kept screaming but to be completely honest he wanted to trust Dixon, he needed to.

"I suppose it depends on how you measure time." Dean said then added the time he spent in hell to his thirty one years in the past life, then added the one in this time line and dared to answer, "I think I'm about seventy two but I'm not sure. How about you?"

After a brief thoughtful pause Dixon answered with a hopeful smile, "I was born before the rise of the Akkadian empire."

*There you have a big reveal, weeeeeeeeeeell, one of them. More surprises are yet to come and Sam will be returning to our story very shortly.

**I am going to attempt one more chapter before leaving for holidays with my daughters at the end of July but I'm regret I can guarantee nothing.