Complications 2.17


"You're a cape?"

The first words out of Greg's mouth were not an answer to his friend's question, but the blond couldn't bring himself to care. There were more important thing right now, namely…"When? How?"

Greg 's brow furrowed, the two blond caterpillars on his forehead becoming one, as he tried to comprehend how his friend could have gotten powers. In fact, less than twenty-four hours ago, Sparky had expressed excitement at the possibility of having them.

The answer was far from what he expected.

"This morning. No idea."

Greg blinked. "I'm lost."

"Me too. This morning." The response was quick and sharp, the opposite of Sparky's usual drawling Californian accent.

"I don't…" Greg trailed off, raising his hands up in confusion.

"Woke up inside the thrift store. The one by the Trainyard. You know, brah, the one with the..."

Sparky bit his lip, his head making a sudden movement to the side before righting itself. When he did, though, the motion was off, much too sudden, as if someone had pressed fast-forward instead of play for a moment. "The...the..the..."

His words trailed off, and his gaze drifted out the window. Greg turned his head to see what caught his attention only to find himself watching a flock of pigeons as they sat atop the power lines.

What the...

Greg leaned forward and held his arms out in Sparky's face, waving them back and forth till Sparky's gaze focused on him again.

"The one with the what, Sparky?"

Dull amber eyes flickered between Greg and the window again before his head snapped back forward.

"You know, with the...the...fucked up prices and drugged out workers." Sparky's head bobbed along with his words, an affectation that would have been familiar to Greg if it wasn't for how strange the movement looked.

Greg's expression only grew more confused, his head tilting slightly as he spoke. "You just woke up there?"

"Yeah." Sparky shook his head, the movement at odds with his positive answer. "Naked."

At this, Greg's eyes widened. "Naked?"

"Full-on birthday suit. Grabbed these," Sparky gestured to his outfit, the blue and white hooded tracksuit, bandana, and sneakers before hurriedly shoving his hands back into his pockets, "on my way out. Kinda hard to find stuff that matched. Lights were all fucky. On and off. Couldn't really see."

"Ooookay," Greg stretched the word out for a bit. "And how you got from the Trainyard to...my house?"

"Ran."

"You...ran?"

"Yeah."

Greg nodded along cautiously. Makes sense. He was moving pretty fast a few minutes ago. I could barely react. "Why...my house, though? Why not go...home? I mean, I don't want to say that you shouldn't come over but..."

"I know, brah. B&E, not a cool move. I get it. I just," Sparky took in a shaky breath, rocking slightly from side to side as he paused, "I just...I figured you could help. You know, with powers and all." he raised a hand and Greg's eyes widened as he saw it.

Sparky's hand was still in the air. But then again, it wasn't. Unlike the rest of him, his hand wasn't twitching so much as it appeared to be shaking, blurring so fast it was hard to make out his individual fingers.

A part of Greg wanted to joke, to ask Sparky whether he needed AAA or AA batteries for it to get like that. Sadly, he wasn't smart enough to keep that part quiet and the words tumbled out with a forced smile on his face, even as he regretted them.

Greg's smile died slowly as one of Sparky's hands lifted from the pockets of his hoodie, the silver glint of a large round battery visible from his tightly clenched, yet still shaking, fist. "D works best. Kinda heavy, though."

Greg opened his mouth, whether to apologize for the joke or change the subject, he wasn't sure. After a moment's thought, he shut his jaw with an audible click.

I should talk less.

He swallowed before opening his mouth again, careful about what he said next. "So...you don't remember anything about how," he gestured at Sparky's hand, "that...happened?"

"R-remember?" Sparky stuttered. His tongue darted out of his mouth, bearing an odd resemblance to a snake's as he tried to wet his lips. "No. Nah, n-n-not really, brah."

Sparky glanced around the room as he spoke, head moving in a series of obvious twitches and spurts. Greg blinked, watching on silently as Sparky continued his odd survey of the room, head shifting unnaturally to the left and right as if he meant to scratch one ear before changing his mind and heading for the other. "You okay, man?"

The half-Latino's head jerked back to face Greg, the movement so sudden that Greg forced himself not to jump back. "...yeah. Why?"

Greg raised an eyebrow. "You...uhhh...huh."

"What? What, brah? Something on my face?"

Greg stared into the unfamiliar, wide-eyed gaze of his best friend, blue eyes staring back into bloodshot amber. "No?"

"Then what, brah? You're kinda freaking me out here."

Greg blinked, leaning back against the wall. "I'm freaking you...whatever. Uhh...It's just…I get if you don't want to talk about it-"

"About what?" Sparky swallowed and Greg found himself staring into a face that seemed oddly resolved despite how strung out he might have appeared.

"Kinda what I'm talking about right there." He raised his hands up in the air, gesturing in Sparky's direction. "You're just…uhh," Greg ran a hand through his hair, moving back and forth as if trying to pull words from his scalp. "Look, man, you're kinda jumpy and on...edge, I guess?"

"Me? On edge?" Sparky's tongue flicked out again, trying desperately to impart moisture it didn't have before he took a deep breath. A moment later, he let out a sigh that seemed to rattle his thin frame.

The long-haired teen opened his mouth as if to say something before he went still again, amber eyes going distant again, this time staring at a blank portion of the wall as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Greg blinked in confusion before frowning. "Sparky!"

The long-haired teenager jumped, before his own eyes trained on Greg as if seeing him for the first time. "Yeah? On edge…" He made an odd movement, head moving from side to side in a way that wasn't quite a shake of the head before moving his chin in a quick up and down motion, as if just learning how to nod.

"Yeah, I'm...I know what you mean." Sparky let his jaw loosen and took in a raspy breath. The area around his stomach seemed to be shaking but Greg realized those were just his hands...moving erratically underneath his hoodie. "It's just...the whole thing at Fugly's...i-i-it just makes it...kinda hard, you know?"

"Yeah...I get it." No, I don't.

"N-no, no-no, you don't, do you? You still can't lie for shit." The uncertainty in Greg's eyes was clear, even to someone as dazed and out of it as Sparky seemed. "Do you...do you even know what happened at Fugly's, brah? Do you?"

"I'm sorry, Sparky. I really don't know. I was...kinda out of it for most of yesterday." Greg flinched as Sparky's expression darkened at his answer. "What happened?"

"Y...you really don't know?"

Greg's silent shake of the head seemed to set off whatever Sparky was keeping contained as his friend's expression stopped just short of murderous.

"Fuck it, I-I-I...I don't even know what…" Sparky took another deep breath, hands falling out of his pockets and clenching into tense, vibrating fists. "...shit."

I gotta say something. Greg grimaced as he watched his normally laid back friend almost fall over himself simply trying to get words out. God, I have to say something.

Before he could, however, Sparky began again. "It was...just after you jumped to do whatever, you know. I...I sat back in the booth and then I turned around for one second and out of nowhere, everyone's losing their shit over this Asian girl that walked in." As he continued, Sparky began speaking faster, his limbs jerking and twitching more the faster his mouth moved, unfolding from his body in erratic gestures like some demented swiss army knife. "Then out of nowhere, she just...just...just…"

His voice trailed off and with it, the strange energy that fueled his movements. Again, Greg found himself looking on as Sparky's attention was captured by something he couldn't see or understand.

Greg reached for his friend, attempting to shake him to get him back to normal, only for Sparky to jump back before he could lay a hand on him, eyes wide and body shaking once again.

His mouth turned downwards into a grimace, his friend's uncharacteristic behavior the cause once again. "Sparky, what happened?"

Sparky shivered, the action making his whole body blur before stilling again. "She...she exploded, Greg. Maybe she was a cape, I don't fucking know. I barely remember how the shit went down. All I know is Fugly's exploded yesterday and 3 hours ago, I woke up. Thing is, I...I remember getting hit by whatever she did. I r-r-remember how much it hurt. I re...I remember the...the...my hands went...first, all crumbly and shit….and I...I...I…" Greg grimaced as his friend went to his knees, said hands shaking in front of him.

"I think I died, G." Long brown hair fell down over his friend's face, hunched over as he was on the floor, almost muffling the words that Sparky let out. Greg heard them regardless. "I died back there."

The words hung in the air.

A painful heat surged in Greg's chest and he felt the same tightness that he had become so familiar with, an almost painful feeling of compression that seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, screaming to be released.

Someone had to pay, it screamed. Someone had to suffer for this. Anyone.

This time, though, there was no target. Nothing Greg could punch, nothing he could scream at, nothing to focus exactly what he was feeling at right now. His skin itched as fire boiled inside his veins, begging to be let out.

It was...unsettling.

Unsure of what to do with himself, he slowly fell to his knees to match his friend and stared at the figure in front of him.

This was not his Sparky. This was not the guy who spent more time talking about drumming and guitars and music than he did on schoolwork. This was not the same person who spent half his time trying to talk to any girl who wouldn't simply write him off as a merchant at first sight. That Sparky would joke about almost getting stabbed by some Empire wannabe for being mixed, even laughing off being caught in the middle of a bunch of Merchants fighting during a drug deal. This was not that Sparky but he was still his Sparky.

Kneeling down next to his friend, Greg raised a hand that felt far too heavy and laid it on his friend's shoulder, the two alone in silence.

"I...I'm sorry."

This time, it was Greg that broke the quiet. He felt himself cringe as he let out the words, fully aware of how weak they were.

Still, he had to say something, right?

"I'm sorry?" repeated Sparky. "What the fuck for? What did you do? Huh, G? Did y-you blow up Fugly's? K-k-kill a dozen people? D-did you?" The erratic movements were back, his friend's limbs cutting through the air with the same jerky movements and leaving Greg with the faint scent of ozone.

Greg found himself letting out a quiet, "...no."

"Then quit with the f-f-fucking sorry."

Greg flinched at his friend's words. "It's just...I...I should have been there. I went on the call and I was worthless over there. Did basically nothing that the PRT couldn't. I barely remember half of it. I got knocked out that quick." He shook his head before continuing, his voice much quieter. "I could have been there, man."

Sparky let out another breath, this one just as shaky and weak as the others. "Sure, you could have been there and watched as we all blew up. That'd be fun, right?" Sparky laughed weakly, the sound without any actual humour. "Look, I got everything out. I'm fine. Just let it go."

Greg shook his head again. "I'm just...I'm sorry." Oh my God, stop talking.

"I say all that and you still fucking say, I'm s-sorry? Do you ever li...just listen, brah?" Another dry laugh followed his words. "Just let it go."

"...sorry." Oh god, why can't I just shut up?

"I know," Sparky responded, after a few seconds. "Of course you're sorry. You're always sorry. Your whole life is sorry." Sparky leaned back until he was fully laying on the floor, eyes locked on the spinning ceiling fan. "Dios mio, you're such a pussy, Greg."

Greg groaned, matching his friend's position on the ground. "I was trying to be nice, you know. You can be a real dick sometimes, Axel Ignacio Ramos."

Sparky snickered next to him. "Oooh, my full name. I'm so scared. You gonna call my mom next? Tell her I didn't share my toys?"

Greg found himself rolling his eyes again, but couldn't bring himself to hide the growing smile on his face. "Oh, fuck right off." I'm glad you're still you, man.

"Gladly."

Once more, there was silence between the two of them as they laid on the living room floor next to each other, staring up at the ceiling lights.

"So...what do you do?" Again, it was Greg who broke the silence.

"Do?"

Greg found himself rolling his eyes yet again. "You know what I mean, Sparky. Your powers? I know you're fast but that can't be it, right? Kinda lame if it was."

The dry look Sparky sent back to him was one that he was familiar with and the sight of it actually made him feel a bit better. "And what's wrong with being fast?"

Greg snorted. "Come on, Sparks. Velocity's fast. Freaking Velocity. Honestly, dude's a pretty shit hero. Any of the Wards would do better in the big leagues than Velocity."

Sparky made a noise that sounded vaguely positive before shrugging his shoulders in acceptance of his friend's point. "True, Velocity is pretty shit."

"I mean, look at me," Greg continued, "I can punch real hard, run real fast, I'm pretty darn tough, I can jump real high, I have laser hands, I think I can make force fields…"Greg trailed off as the dry look Sparky sent him earlier returned in full force.

"I get it, I get it, you're a one-man fucking New Wave, G. Could you chill with the explainbragging?" The half-Hispanic teen rolled his eyes at his friend before leaning back against the couch as he stretched out on the floor. "Not everyone hits the power lottery."

"Oh...uh," A tinge of red spread out on Greg's cheeks and he quickly sat up, coughing nervously into a single fist. "I didn't mean it like that. I was just…" His voice died again as he spotted his friends' raised eyebrow, as if waiting for him to keep bragging. "Anyway, I just meant that the way you hit me before...I felt that."

Sparky's eyebrow traveled higher. "And?"

Greg let out a sigh. "Dude, Lung hit me," his hand prodded the center of his chest experimentally, "What you did was like...really close to that. How?"

"Give me a s...s-s-second." Sparky held up a single finger.

For a second, Greg thought the finger was meant for him, telling him to wait, but then he realized just how intently his friend was looking at it. Is he out of it again?

"Sparky?"

A sharp shushing sound was his friend's response, causing Greg to raise an eyebrow. Okay? What's he doing?

Sparky spent a few more seconds staring at his outstretched finger before clicking his tongue and letting out another shaky sigh. "F-f-fuck, I'm on empty."

"Empty?"

Sparky didn't respond, one hand busy unzipping the top of his hooded tracksuit while the other undid the bandana around his neck.

What is he…?

"Sparky?"

Greg received a quizzical grunt from his friend in response as Sparky continued to disrobe, pulling off a skintight long-sleeved undershirt with the same blue-and-white color scheme as the rest of his appropriated clothing.

With one final tug, the undershirt came off Sparky's shoulders and joined his hoodie and bandana on the floor. His bloodshot eyes turned back to Greg and now he was the one to blink at his friend's expression.

Greg, himself, wasn't sure what to say, his attention captured by the markings that traced across his friend's chest and arms.

Lightning flowers.

It had been years since Greg had last seen them. He had been watching television and a man that had been caught in a lightning storm a month past had shown off scars he had received from a lightning strike that just happened to graze him. Nine-year old Greg had obsessed over the sight, going so far as to beg his mother for a tattoo of the pattern.

Six years later, he couldn't help but utter the same thing he had when he had first seen the phenomenon.

"Cool…"

Greg snapped back into attention as soon as the word left his lips and he stared into his friend's eyes, mouth open in shock and embarrassment. A hint of something passed through Sparky's expression for a second but Greg couldn't make it out before it disappeared.

"I...I didn't mean…That wasn't what I..."

Sparky waved off his friend's muttered apologies, a rueful smile playing at his lips. "It's fine. I always kinda wanted tats anyway. I mean, I would have preferred tribal shit but…too late, right?" He flicked his hand at his chest, directly where the lightning flowers seemed to converge, curling out from his back and arms.

"...Yeah, I guess," Greg responded, his tone slightly subdued.

"Anyway," Sparky began, "I gotta r-r-recharge. I only d-did this a couple t-times before so…" Sparky trailed off again, eyes trained on the wall. This time, he shook himself free from the daze before Greg could say anything.

"You mind?" Sparky gestured with his chin, bobbing his head towards where he had just been looking.

"I don't...sure," Greg shrugged, confused as to what exactly his friend meant.

"Cool." Sparky took a few steps toward the wall and hunched over once he was right next to an outlet. "S-s-see, th-the last time I did this was just a f-f-f-f-f-f-f…"Sparky's face dropped into a scowl and he took another raspy breath before continuing again. "I didn't mean to do it. W-w-woke up in the electronics section of the th-thrift store, naked on the cold-ass f-f-floor. Tried to pull myself up, ended up grabbing a...a...a…"

Sparky pursed his lips and stared upwards at Greg. "You know those th-th-things that you put a lot of p-power cords into...those long things."

What is he talki...oh.

Greg blinked as he realized what his friend was referring to. "You mean a surge protector?"

Sparky snapped his fingers and gave Greg a slow nod. "That's it. Surge protector, yeah. Anyway, I grabbed it and I had this feeling and...know what? Lemme show you."

Sparky slapped a hand onto the outlet and Greg watched as his entire body tensed.

Amber eyes widened and Sparky's back arched, his head falling back.

A single grunt preceded it.

Then the lights began to flicker. Greg glanced up hurriedly. What the he-

He didn't have the time to finish the thought. Blue eyes widened and Greg's mouth fell open as Sparky's lightning scars, the dark patterns on his tan skin, literally glowed. A whitish-blue light shone from his scars, the criss-crossing patterns turning his torso into a living light show.

For a moment, Greg thought that that was it. That is, until he saw the sparks.

A visible current of electricity traveled up his wrist, tracing the path of his lightning flowers, enhancing the glow.

Sparky gave one more grunt, this one louder and the lights flickered once more, before finally dimming and returning to normal.

With a sigh, this one nowhere near as weak and shaky as the last few, Axel Ramos rose to his feet. Bright amber eyes, no longer bloodshot, turned towards his friend and his mouth angled upwards in a somewhat familiar smirk.

"Pretty c-c-cool, huh? Freaked the shit out of me the first couple times." Sparky pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side before adding, "To be honest, I've never taken this much. Tried t-t-to ease it up but…" he shrugged. "Sorry if I fuck up your power bill."

Greg simply watched arcs of electricity dance along Sparky's scars.

"Huh."


"So, you figured out your powers when some homeless guys tried to beat you up when they were looting the thrift store?"

"Yep."

The two teenagers were in an odd position, leaning up against the long couch in Greg's living room as they lay on the floor. One could spend time wondering why they weren't just sitting on the couch as that would be much more comfortable.

One would be wasting their time.

"So," Greg began again, "how does that thing work anyway? The pain thingy you did to me. Is it like a taser?"

"I...guess?" Sparky's brow furrowed and he gave a weak shrug. "I jab people with a few fingers. A few seconds later, they go down screaming."

Go down screaming? Greg's eyes widened. I didn't go down screaming.

"You used that pain thing on those homeless guys?"

"Yep." Sparky answered with as little effort as possible, his attention on the game show still playing on the tv.

Greg leaned forward, lifting his neck and part of his torso off of the couch as he glanced at his friend.

"You think they're okay?" Greg pursed his lips, confusion playing across his face as he realized he had asked the question with a lot more concern in his voice than he made sense when he thought about it, though. He knew firsthand how much that hurt and Greg was pretty sure his pain tolerance was higher than the average person's.

"Who?" Sparky looked over at Greg , his eyes moving more than his neck or head.

"The homeless guys, man."

"Probably. D-don't care either way." Sparky's response was glib, his uncaring tone only accentuated by the way he stretched out his arms and yawned, the polyester fabric of his hoodie stretching with him. "Not g-g-gonna worry about some dicks that tried to kill me."

Greg's lip curled just the slightest bit before he gave his friend a slow nod. He could see his point. Still…

"I mean, electricity is kinda dangerous."

Sparky's eyebrows bounced upwards and he gave a weak smile. "Preaching to the choir, brah."

Greg groaned internally. Wrong choice of words.

"I mean, maybe you shouldn't go around shocking regular people." At his friend's quizzical expression, Greg continued. "I can take it but I'm you know...me. And from what you said, those guys sounded seriously hurt."

Sparky's lips turned downwards into a frown but he nodded slowly. "Whatever. Pretty sure I'm not shocking p-people, though."

Not shocking? Greg narrowed his eyes. "Then...then what are you doing?"

Sparky shrugged. "It's kinda hard to explain. It's like...like…"

Sparky grimaced and Greg noticed his eyes dull for a second before he shuddered, the action actually making his whole body blur for an instant. "Don't really feel like talking about it."

"What? Why not?"

"No reason. Just don't feel like it."

Greg opened his mouth to protest but the sudden change in his friend's mood was obvious even to him. Grasping for something to change the subject, his eyes spotted the commercial about frozen pizza on the television and before he knew it, his mouth was open.

"You hungry?"

"Yeah, I could go for something," was Sparky's less-than-emphatic response. "Kinda bored too. Not loving the daytime tv," he continued, bobbing his head towards the balding man on the screen hosting some sort of family game show.

"Same." Any other day, we could've solved both problems by going out in the city. Greg shrugged. No chance of that now.

"I torrented some Aleph anime a couple weeks ago. I could hook it up to the TV, we could eat, hang out in here for a while."

Sparky nodded along, a genuine smile on his face. "What are we eating?"

"We have plenty of snacks in the pantry. I'll figure something out."

"So, what do you want me to do?""

Greg stayed silent as he hopped to his feet, stretching a hand out to his friend. "Just chill down here, I guess."

"Just chill?" Sparky grabbed the offered arm and Greg pulled him to his feet, not even registering his friend's weight.

"Yeah, I mean, why not?"

"If you want, brah."

Greg nodded his head, sharing a smile with his friend before turning around to walk towards the stairs, leaving Sparky standing alone in the living room.

Yet, as light as the mood had become, Greg knew that a simple smile on somebody's face didn't mean that they still weren't hurting inside. Even right now, he could barely get the image of Lung deciding to go after his mother out of his mind and that was just a possibility.

What had happened to Sparky-I think I died, G.-was far too real to be ignored.

As Greg's foot touched the first step, he felt compelled to say something, even if only to make sure it'd be okay to leave his friend alone so close to a room full of sharp objects.

"Sparks, you sure you're feeling okay now?"

Sparky stared back at Greg, eyes blinking rapidly before narrowing to slits. "The fuck kinda question is...? Fuck no!"

Greg blinked back, surprised at the response. "I...I...thought…"

Sparky tilted his head and stared back at his friend with a quizzical expression. "What, you fucking thought a few laughs meant I'm good?"

Greg opened his mouth to protest, but shut it immediately as he realized telling his friend he wanted to put him on suicide watch would likely lead to a far worse situation.

Stop talking! You're just making it worse.

"I mean, fuck! Brah, I think I died. Literally! I'm pretty sure my everything stopped. And you got the balls to ask me if I'm okay? Fuck no, I'm not okay!"

"I'm sor...I didn't mean...It's not lik-"

The furious look on Sparky's face vanished, to be replaced by a sunny one. "I'm fucking great, brah!"

Greg found himself dumbfounded again, feeling like a deer in headlights for the umpteenth time this week. "What."

What.

Sparky closed his eyes, a smug smile overtaking his bright grin. "I died, Greg. I died and I came back. You know what that means?"

Greg opened his mouth to respond but, unsurprisingly, Sparky was quicker.

"It means I'm immortal."

Greg's brain recovered from it's sudden stop and he let out an exasperated groan. "Oh my god, whatever this is, I'm not doing it," Greg found himself groaning again as he glanced at his friend's smug expression. "Did that juice-up give you brain damage or something?"

Sparky's smug expression remained despite the insult. In fact, Greg wasn't sure if his friend even registered his words.

"Have you ever died before, Greg? I'mma guess no, considering you'd be the first to talk about that type of shit. As the resident expert, I know one thing, G. People die when they are killed."

"Oh. My. God." Greg raked a hand down his face, once again letting out a frustrated groan as he did so. "This my punishment for showing you that Aleph anime, isn't it?"

"Ergo," Greg was ignored yet again as Sparky continued, "As someone who was killed and yet is not d-dead, I am, henceforth, immortal."

Greg shot his friend a dry look. "Ergo, henceforth? Do you actually know what those mean?"

"Mmmm", Sparky let out a self-satisfied hum. "Bitch, you're just j-jealous 'cause I'm an immortal lightning g-god."

"Whatever, man," Greg shot back as he continued walking up the stairs. Yeah, he's okay.

"Don't be jealous, G. Not everyone can be this lucky." Sparky snapped his fingers at Greg's back.

As he saw Greg leave and heard the upstairs bedroom door close, Sparky fell back, slamming himself down onto the couch with little care. His smile dimmed to almost nothing as he raised one shaky hand to his face, eyes dulling once more as arcs of electricity jumped from finger to finger.

"Yeah, n-n-n-not everyone."


Hello, all.

What up?

Just want to thank you again for reading this chapter.

Is it shit? It's probably total shit.

Might be. Who cares? You probably do 'cause you're reading it.

Anyway, yeah, Sparky has powers. It might not seem like it but I kinda planned this from day one. I feel like Greg is a little too milquetoast by himself and he needed someone to keep him grounded.

(Hehe, Sparky…Grounded? Ehhh?)

Accidental humor aside, yeah, the guy's nickname was Sparky. That was begging for a power. I had to. I literally couldn't resist. For a while, I actually was thinking, "Hey, what if you don't give Sparky powers? Instead, kill him by electrocution and have Greg work Search and Rescue so he can be the one to find his only friend's charred and blackened body. Wouldn't that be just as good?"

Luckily for you, I'm not entirely evil.

I want to announce that I have an official beta now. Redeemthefallen, a super nice person, will be helping me to officially beta all my chapters from now on. I really want to give them thanks. I finally have an official beta.

Also, thanks goes to Dino Goddess, pug_empress and FenFen on the "r/fanfiction" Discord Server for helping to beta this chapter in the early stages. Awesome people.

Special thanks to FenFen for giving this chapter one final look-over before posting.