Chapter Fifty-Six: Locked Out

They lay together, Cloud pulled close against Zack's chest. The aftermath of what they had just shared together was already fading. Or maybe the alcohol in Zack's system was finally leveling out and the gravity of it all was hitting him. Their bodies had now cooled and their sweat dried; yet Cloud remained breathing unevenly and trembling. He said nothing, he only held tighter if Zack tried to ask him what was wrong.

Everything had fallen prey to another nostalgic feeling, one that Zack wanted to never relive again. It was a feeling of foreboding. Deep, frightening foreboding.

After a while of holding him, he tried to leave the bed to retrieve a washcloth for Cloud to clean himself with; they had left themselves in a mess. When he moved to stand, Cloud turned back to those earlier hysterics. Again he clung to Zack's arm, screaming for him not to leave. This time he wouldn't calm with kissing or stroking.

"It's just a washcloth."

"Please, don't," Cloud cried.

"A washcloth, that's it," Zack said as steadily as he could, despite his own panic now rising. He pulled himself away and stood, then reached down and brushed tears from Cloud's face. "I'm not going anywhere."

Cloud sniveled and pulled a blanket up to his chest with difficulty. He was quaking.

"Why do you keep thinking that I'm going to leave you?"

He tried to stammer something, but sobbing was all that came out.

Zack slipped on his boxers and began to back out of the room, unable to take his eyes off him in fear. "I'll be right back. I promise." He paused at the door, watching as Cloud stared back at him with even more fear — pure fear.

With reluctance he rounded to the bathroom where a faint trace of his shampoo still lingered in the humid air. He flicked on the light and froze.

Cloud's uniform was thrown all around. Pieces of it were soaked in blood.

Cloud began to hyperventilate from the bedroom.

His eyes moved to the shower in horror. Diluted blood was splattered onto the tiled walls.

Zack turned to rush to him but stopped when someone began to bang on his door. The frantic beat was only a segue to a rush of voices behind it, screaming for him, screaming for Cloud.

"For fuck's sake open your goddamn door!"

It was Kunsel. But there was another voice. A woman.

"Cloud, are you in there!"

Zack continued to stare in horror.

Cloud was now wailing from the bedroom.

The pounding worsened. The shouting continued. Torn between the sounds of Cloud in sudden, unexplained anguish and his own confusion left him motionless. He couldn't bring himself to open the door.

Their voices became desperate. Cloud's sobbing became desperate.

Zack finally rushed to the door and opened it. Kunsel stood with his arm raised, looking angry and haggard, still buzzed from their drinking. Beside him frantically stood the psychologist in her pajamas, a groggy child clutched in her arms. Tseng loomed behind them in his uniform with his tie undone, but no emotion on his face.

"Where have you been!" Kunsel immediately shouted. "Why was your phone off?"

The psychologist crossed the threshold before Zack could get in a word, and her child was dumped into his arms. "Where is he?" she said, voice stern but trembling. Again Zack wasn't able to answer, and she was already running to his bedroom. She shut the door behind her. Zack could hear her repeating Cloud's name woefully.

Tseng followed into his apartment without a word or glance. Zack finally snapped.

"What the hell is going on?"

Kunsel began to shout at him, voice slurred with rabid abandon. Nothing he said was making sense — he was repeating unknown events in what seemed like broken sequence, all the more confusing. The young child in Zack's arms began to fuss from the shouting. The fussing turned to crying in an instant. Zack began to shout back, not knowing what he was saying or why.

"That's enough," Tseng said, holding his hand up and silencing everyone but the child. "Kunsel, return to your barrack. Get the situation under control."

"But, sir—"

"Now."

Kunsel stiffened; he hesitated for as long as he could. His eyes locked onto Zack's with such pained anger. Zack felt himself begin to tremble.

"Sir," he said, then turned and left.

"Zack," Tseng said, now turning his attention to him. "Calm down."

The psychologist was murmuring frantically to Cloud from inside the bedroom, but there was no response.

Zack, too, did not respond. He waited for that feeling of foreboding to manifest into whatever words Tseng were about to speak. He felt it coming, creeping toward with arms outstretched.

"Strife has witnessed what appears to be a suicide."

The child in Zack's arms was now howling.

Foreboding now had hold of him, silencing him with its fingers around his neck.

"Infantry Cadet Johnny Ratcliff."

His throat was stinging. Burning. Stinging. Swelling with screams and questions and soundless, useless … fucking useless words. Those hands around his neck wouldn't relent. He couldn't say anything. He couldn't think anything.

Reno and Cissnei suddenly appeared, both slipping up beside Tseng like a shadow. Cissnei looked visibly concerned, and her eyes bore into Zack's with a mix of emotion which Zack couldn't begin to interpret. Reno leaned into Tseng and murmured something to him. Zack looked down to see that he was holding a plastic bag with a 9mm handgun in it.

They then stepped behind Tseng and stood, blocking the doorway.

Tighter those fingers squeezed.

"Strife needs to accompany me to the infirmary," Tseng said.

"I think not."

Tseng stared at Zack for a moment, allowing Zack's simple words to reach him but not affect him. "Dr. Arolin and a physician will need to speak with him further to asses his condition. Depending on her evaluation, arrangements at the infirmary will be made for in-patient admittance."

"Cloud is going no where. He is speaking to no one. Do you understand me?"

"This is not a discussion."

"He is not leaving with you."

Tseng was quiet again. Reno and Cissnei looked on, somewhat conflicted. Cissnei seemed as though she wanted to speak on Zack's behalf, but Reno put a hand on her shoulder when her mouth opened, silencing her.

The psychologist finally exited, wiping her eyes a bit as she shut the bedroom door. "He's in shock," she said quietly. "He won't say anything to me."

"B-But he's okay, right?" Zack said, rounding on her and unconsciously gripping her child. "H-He doesn't need to go anywhere, right?"

She glanced to Tseng warily, then stepped forward to detach her child from Zack. She bounced him in her arms for a moment to settle him before speaking again. "It's hard to tell at this stage, Mr. Fair. I do think he needs to be seen by—"

"I'll take care of him." Zack looked to Tseng quickly. "She can evaluate him here."

"You are a SOLDIER, Zack. Not a nurse or babysitter."

Zack fell quiet, looking to his bedroom door, hot tears threatening to fill his eyes.

"The Director is right, Zack," Cissnei finally said, taking a step forward. "He needs to be seen by the infirmary staff. If he's in mental shock, it could lead to physical shock …"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fair," the psychologist whispered.

Zack started to shake his head vehemently, ignoring everything they had to say.

Reno then spoke, voice calm and coaxing. "Yeah, bro, ya dunno what the kid went through earlier. He didn't tell ya nothin', did he, yo?"

Zack was silent still, blinking hard to will not just his tears away, but everyone away as well.

"Dr. Arolin, would you escort Strife to the infirmary?" Tseng said, he, too, ignoring everything anyone had to say. "Cissnei will look after your child."

The psychologist nodded and handed her son over to Cissnei slowly. She gave Zack a nervous glance before turning to his bedroom door.

There was no way out of this. Foreboding was not only silencing him, it was leading him straight to a dark and unknown hell, and dragging Cloud along with it. If he couldn't stop it to save himself … how could he protect Cloud?

"I'll take him," Zack said in defeat, stepping to the door.

The psychologist paused and glanced back to Tseng. Tseng made no attempt to protest anything. She nodded and moved aside.

There was a loud clicking noise from inside the bedroom.

Cloud had locked the door.

Half an hour passed, and everyone stood by as Cloud refused to leave with definitive silence. Only the soft sound of the blankets rustling, or stifled sobbing was heard throughout that time. Both Cissnei and the psychologist tried their hand at negotiating with Cloud through the door. They even tried to explain in great detail about how he needed medical attention for his shock, but however kind or as blunt as they put it, it fell on deaf ears. Zack tried to urge him to unlock the door, but even that didn't work.

They couldn't carry on like this all night. After a while Tseng was bound to get impatient; Zack was surprised he had waited this long for Cloud to comply. But the longer that they pushed and stalled, the smaller a chance they had at getting through this without Shin-Ra's full intervention.

Breaking down the door was suggested, but the psychologist was against it. She didn't want to scare Cloud and possibly risk any more damage than what was already done to him. Easing him out willingly would be the best way. Impatience got the best of Reno, and he suggested to pick the lock. No one protested, especially when all sounds inside the room had grown quiet.

He squatted down and removed a few tools from one of his pockets, inserting the pick hook into the keyhole. Without warning Cloud suddenly slammed against the door with an angry growl, startling Reno and knocking him backwards. Tseng ordered him to stop. He stood and moved away, cursing under his breath. They at least knew he was conscious, despite the setback.

Zack then moved back to the door like a man approaching a deer on the verge of fleeing. He put his hand on it, pressing his ear against it to hear the heart-wrenching sound of Cloud now weeping into a pillow. "Cloud?" he murmured into the tiny gap between the door and frame. He paused and listened again.

Cloud stopped crying at the sound of his voice, and he heard him shuffling over to the door. He could almost feel Cloud's breath through the gap.

"Cloud, what do you want right now?" he asked, forcing himself to sound strong even though he felt as though he were about to lose it.

There was a soft thump against the door; Cloud had put his hand against it where Zack's resided on the other side.

"You."

Everyone was quiet.

Behind, Tseng gestured for Reno and Cissnei to leave. They obeyed, slipping out of the apartment in the same fashion as they came — just shadows passing along in the darkness. "I will be back in one hour to take Strife to the infirmary," Tseng said, now fixing his tie and straightening up. "If he is unwilling, I will take him into corrective custody. By force if I have to."

"If you're willing to have your men sacrificed tonight by my hand, then just give the order."

Tseng stared at him for a moment, his eyes flickering almost hesitantly, as though finally weighing his words. "See to it that Strife complies by morning," he said simply, then left.

Zack let out a shaky breath when the front door closed, his shoulders sagging and the lump in his throat rising. He nearly forgot that the psychologist was still in the room with him if it hadn't been for the sound of the child whining. He didn't think he could hold back his tears whether she were there or not. He turned away from her to face his bedroom once more, listening closely to the sounds coming from within.

The psychologist moved beside him, one hand reaching out to touch his arm. "I'll stay."

He shook his head.

"But, Mr. Fair —"

He shook his head again, teeth clenched.

Her arm dropped to her side. "I understand," she said, sounding very reluctant. She walked to the front door with her child and stopped before opening it. "Keep a close eye on him. If he gets difficulty breathing, any chest pains, confusion or impaired judgment, it's a sign of shock."

Zack blinked once, tears skimming down his cheeks before disappearing below.

"Are you really going to take him to the infirmary?" she whispered.

"No," he said, trying to compose himself. "Not unless he really needs it."

"I think … that's a wise idea." She opened the door and looked back at him. "Don't hesitate to call me. For anything. You have my number."

She saw herself out, wiping at her own eyes.

Zack staggered to the front door, locking it in a daze. He lowered his head upon it and broke down. He didn't know for how long he cried … it wouldn't be enough. Not nearly. Never enough.

Ratcliff was dead. Graves was dead. Elici was dead. Essai and Sebastian, Angeal; each comrade, each friend snuffed out. All that remained was a fading trail of their memory from where their flame once burned. All they had left was each other. All Cloud had left was Zack.

The bedroom door unlocked very slowly, the action dragged out with hesitation. Zack looked over his shoulder, knowing it wouldn't open on its own, but it was now unlocked for himself toenter.

He pushed himself away from the front door and began to numbly collect supplies from his bathroom. He grabbed that washcloth to finally clean his own mess on Cloud. He grabbed a second one and soaked it in cold water, and a third soaked in hot water, just in case he needed all three. He grabbed tissues, Cloud's boxers, even a potion from his medicine cabinet. He then walked back to his room, racing through every supply he had, wanting to make sure he had everything which Cloud would need.

Nervously he entered, eyes crawling across the floor and following the shifting moonlight. On the center of the bed Cloud sat naked and trembling, staring at him with such anguish on his face. He stuttered out Zack's name, reaching out to him. Zack dropped everything in his arms.

Cloud just needed him, and he needed Cloud.

He crawled onto the bed, murmuring his name in response with arms outstretched. Cloud allowed him to pull him into a deep embrace. He allowed Zack to kiss him, to brush his tears away once again, to hold him throughout the night … and neither cried alone.

Cloud went through hours of endless crying and only minutes of sleep caught in between. And even when he did sleep, Zack was scared that it was more than just sleeping, so he woke him every now and then to make sure he was all right. Each time became harder and harder to wake him, but Cloud at least made some sort of verbal grunt or moan, so he knew he was actually sleeping and not unconscious from shock.

Zack did not sleep. Not for a minute.

He spent the hours kissing his head when he fussed, and tending to him. He found himself using that cold washcloth against Cloud's forehead; his skin was both hot and clammy, and pulling back the blankets didn't seem to help in lowering his temperature. He used the warm washcloth to wipe Cloud's bottom and stomach clean of their seed as best he could. That last washcloth was used to tend to Cloud's wounded hand. The flesh had been torn back from his knuckles when he had struck the door, so he dabbed at it and then bandaged it for him.

Zack even gave him a potion when he had noticed his right ankle and foot looked very swollen. He couldn't make sense of that. He lifted Cloud's head into his arm, rousing him as much as he could so he would sip at it. Cloud didn't really drink it. Instead he sputtered it out and cried himself back to sleep in Zack's arms. He didn't know if any of this would help him, but he didn't know what else he could do.

The morning began to gain strength, filling the apartment with unappreciated light. Zack lay in wait for the inevitable knock on his door, but it never came. Tseng never came. All that greeted him was his own restlessness, his own guilt, and a mound of unanswered questions.

Things began to hit him as the hours changed over. Kunsel had tried to warn him that something wasn't right. Cloud had tried to warn him. He saw the warnings. Ratcliff … oh gods … Ratcliff. What could have drove him to do that?

Maybe he should have allowed the psychologist to stay, but he wanted to be left alone and he wanted to be left alone with Cloud. Was that so much to ask? Maybe he shouldn't have been so selfish to wish that everyone who was trying to help would just disappear. Were they even trying to help? Did they even need help?

Zack pulled Cloud's body close, choking out a sob as he huddled themselves together, avoiding a ray of sunlight hitting his bed. He didn't want it to be morning. He wanted time to be suspended where they had been hours before when the sun was still down, when nothing else mattered but the union of their bodies and souls.

Was it selfish to wish that none of this had happened? Ratcliff, Graves, Elici … Mejia … if Mejia hadn't been that catalyst of chaos, would they all still be alive? Cloud, would he still be suffering, and would they still have their love?

Cloud stirred, and Zack prepared himself for another bout of crying, but he only moved closer, burying his face against Zack's chest. He let out a moaning sigh while trembling, and Zack couldn't tell if he were crying. After a few minutes passed by and the sunlight began to crawl across their bodies, he could feel hot liquid rolling down his skin.

Would it all be worth his suffering?

Morning shifted to early afternoon with an air of false peace. If it hadn't been for the pain in his chest, this could have easily been mistaken as a carefree moment filled with nothing but carefree thoughts. It would have been the moment they should have had lying in each others arms as the sun rolled past, reflecting on the deep secret of their lovemaking. Maybe words would be shy, but their gaze and their smiles would have spoken for their hearts when their mouths could not.

Their lovemaking … was that lovemaking? Or was it impaired judgment fueled by a broken mind, aching hearts, and alcohol? The thought made every nerve inside Zack lurch and twist, entangling around this possibility despite the voice inside his mind telling him otherwise. Cloud had confessed to that intimate beauty of his own will. Every bit of it had been exposed, left vulnerable to the elements of doubt. It was all there for Zack to interpret and to accept. And he had accepted it as nothing but what it should have been all along — love. Just love with nothing hiding, nothing to derail him, or to question.

He felt robbed of everything — happiness, strength, normalcy … life.

There was a knock on his door around one. He didn't want to leave Cloud, but his gut began to gnaw at the possibility that it was Tseng. He began to prepare for the upcoming fight, whether verbal or physical, but was surprised to open the door and see Reno. He was even more surprised to see how worn he appeared. By the look Reno gave him in return, he assumed he appeared the same. It also appeared that Reno was assigned to monitor him again. This came at no surprise.

"No one brought you coffee throughout the night?" Zack asked.

Reno motioned behind him, down to three empty coffee cups strewn across the floor in the hallway, mingling with double the amount of cigarette butts. "Could use another," he said.

Zack invited him in, and the scent of coffee soon filled the air. It was strong, but not strong enough to cover the smell of sweat and Cloud's skin against his own. He found himself closing his eyes and breathing in. No matter how hard he focused on it, it wasn't enough to distract him, if even for a second. He was scared to find out what Reno wanted or had to say to him.

"He found the kid … above that cadet's body," Reno began once he had downed most of his mug. He had now lit a cigarette and was using the rest of the coffee to extinguish the falling ash. "Ya know, Kunsel did, after you guys were done drinkin'."

Zack set his coffee down. It was becoming bitter quickly against his tongue. It was making his eyes sting.
"Shot himself in the head, yo. The kid made him a tourniquet. He tried to do CPR. Hell, he kicked in the steel materia case inside the barrack. Scattered it all around. Tried to use Revive and Cure on him. Nothin' worked, yo."

That explained his swollen ankle. To kick in one of those cases enough for it to open was an incredible feat. He was surprised he hadn't broken any bones in the process. Maybe he had; Zack wouldn't know.

"Kunsel found him hysterical," Reno continued, voice low. "Hunched over that cadet's body with his arms around his head, clutchin' him … cryin', wailin'." Reno paused for a moment, taking in a long drag of his cigarette. His eyes never left Zack's. "He had to pry the kid away, yo. He just wouldn't let go."

Zack squeezed his eyes shut and turned away. Too quickly his throat filled with a burning lump, and he did everything in his power not to let it consume him, but it was impossible. Not when the imagery of Cloud holding Ratcliff's body in his mind haunted him.

"By then, help was comin'. Medic team and all, yo. They came and took the body away, then sent for another team to escort the kid to the infirmary. They needed to tranq him. They had to, ya know? He was freakin' out big time, yo." He fell silent for a minute as he took one last drag of his cigarette. He looked towards Zack's bedroom door as he did so. "Me and Cissnei could hear him all the way in the elevator when we arrived on the floor. When we got there, the kid took the first opportunity to run off the moment we all got distracted with talkin' to each other, yo."

"And … he ran here?"

"Seems that way, yo."

He was feeling sick to his stomach now, but he knew that whatever he felt would be lost in a sea of meaninglessness compared to what Cloud was going through. But Zack did know what he was going through, and that was why his heart was searing with pain, that was why he wanted to kick and scream and hurt someone — it didn't matter who — until he couldn't any longer. None of it would bring anyone back, not Cloud's friends, not his own, but what else could he do? What else would he be good for doing?

"'Member that clip we found? In the basement in Kalm?" Reno said, now dropping the cigarette butt into the mug without consideration. "Found the gun it belonged to, yo." He waited for Zack to turn and look at him. It took him a while, as he had been fighting off the torrent of emotions. Reno spoke when Zack finally made eye contact with him. "Yeah, your gut's not deceivin' ya," he said when Zack's gaze hardened. "It was Mejia's, yo."

Zack slapped his own coffee cup away with fury. It flew off the bar counter and crashed onto the floor, shattering into pieces of ceramic and puddles of coffee. Reno didn't flinch, not even when Zack went on a tirade of foul, venomous words. Not even when he shook and openly sobbed, those foul words now only a smattering of coherency. To hear that man's name again, to know that he indirectly played a role in Ratcliff's death after everything he had already done, made Zack teem on insanity.

Reno merely sat and watched as he paced around the kitchen, tongue alight with embers of anger, face stricken with tears and emotions which no one would dare to calm or to challenge. He allowed him whichever reaction would help to ease everything, yet nothing seemed to work. Zack continued, losing himself to feelings which would never go away, to a memory of a friend who would never return, to the hatred of another who had stolen so much.

Inevitably Zack tired himself out, leaving his voice hoarse and face worn from exhaustion. The broken coffee cup was left to lie there, made insignificant by words, then forgotten. Reno could say nothing to comfort, so he stood and gave Zack a pat on the shoulder, a look of sympathy in his eyes yet none in the rest of his expression. He told Zack that Tseng was not happy about all this, and that if Cloud didn't go to the infirmary to be evaluated, he would be discharged from the army. And he left.

Reno had only been there to deliver a message. He had only been outside his door for hours to monitor him, not because he cared or that he was worried. It was all on an order. He had helped him in the past, but now they were even. Now Reno no longer owed him, nor Cloud anything.

Cloud truly was all which he had left as someone he could trust, and he only hoped that Cloud felt the same about him.

But he didn't know how he could convince him to go to the infirmary, not when there had been so many things hidden from each other, not when Zack knew so little about what had happened to both Cloud and Ratcliff in the past few months. Not when Zack didn't want him to go.

He found himself moving towards his bedroom, stepping over the pieces of the coffee mug, past the bathroom which remained defiled in an innocent's blood, into his bedroom where love and pain lay as a tangible being upon his bed. Cloud was entangled in the messy sheets on which they had made love, avoiding the sunlight in his slumber as though avoiding reality. How Zack wished he could help him avoid it. How he wished he could avoid it himself. How he wished he could take away the past pain, the present and the future which Cloud would feel. How he wished Cloud could continue to sleep peacefully like this.

Their reality was a web of lies, and it was a powerless fight. It was not a lazy morning in the sunlight, it was not coffee with a little bit of chocolate, it was not a sitcom playing softly in the background. It was not grilled cheese sandwiches or sappy nicknames, kissing by the fountain, or sharing laughter together. It was not what Zack hoped it to be, or what Cloud deserved. It was death.

He stared down at him with reddened eyes, watching as he slept on his side, curled up. His chest rose and fell scarcely. Only the tips of his soft hair were in the sun, part of his hand which had outstretched towards Zack's side of the bed, the tip of his knee which was bent slightly and caused his foot to cover the swollen ankle of his other leg. He was naked and beautiful, and all his to love and to cry with, to face reality with.

"Cloud," he said, slipping onto the bed beside him, body curling against his and molding to him. His skin was warm, still slightly clammy, rich with the hints of sweat, saliva. "Cloud, can you wake?" His hand trailed up his arm to his shoulder and into his hair. The feel of it reminded him of everything which was right in the world, and he couldn't find his voice to speak again. For a while longer he lay there, unable to fight more tears as he watched him sleep, passing by through time in a bubble, untouchable for now until Zack could speak once more.

Maybe if Cloud were to open up to him, he could avoid taking him to the infirmary. If Zack could confirm that he would be able to get through this, even though doubt weighed heavily on him, maybe Tseng would allow him to stay far away from the infirmary. Maybe … Zack would be able to save him after all.

"Cloud," he said again, hand sifting deeper into his hair, body molding closer. "Baby, wake up. We need to talk." His hand moved down to his shoulder when Cloud remained asleep. He shook it, then shook it again when there was no response. "Cloud?" He sat up, staring down at his placid face, and shook him another time. And again. Panic began to swarm him.

He rattled his shoulder, calling his name louder each time.

Cloud wouldn't wake.

… To be continued in Chapter Fifty-Seven: Say Goodbye.

Ending Author's Note: Oh. My. Glob. I don't even know where to being with the apologies about the lateness of this chapter. I can't even … like, seriously, I am ashamed that it let it go for as long as I did. I had been writing this chapter back in December. I just finished it a mere hour ago.

Life has been a rough Mfer to me the past few months. As of January, I am no longer working due to my health. My doctor pulled me out. So you'd think I'd have more time to write, but damn it all Tumblr is very distracting. And art, I've been doing a lot more art lately. C: Also, family drama is continuing with my dad and his cancer, and to make things even worse, my doggie's spine had an issue which left him paralyzed in his hind legs for many weeks. All that happened on my birthday in February. He's finally able to walk again, but his bladder (which was affected) is still bad. Poor guy has to be locked up all the time to make sure he doesn't relapse. Ugh. I swear my family is cursed.

ANYWAY. Short chapter is short, long author's note is long.

Fan-art alert!

My darling Kitsuchi-chan did this for me a long, long time ago, but again since I haven't updated there was no way to share it with everyone! It's fan-art for the previous chapter! Mmmm sexy sexy fun times. (Remove the spaces)

http : / / kitsuchi-chan. Deviantart. com/ art/ The-Perfect-Truth-277448712

It's so beautiful. And look closely, there are hidden words!

EDIT 04-30-12: MORE FAN-ART!

This is by the lovely Advent-Traitor on deviantART! Remove the spaces!

http : / / advent-traitor. deviantart. com/ art/ Falling-Farther-Away-298283259

I really love Cloud's expression in this! As well as Zack's pose. w ; It just really shows so much emotion! Thank you both for the lovely art!

I have no idea when the next chapter is going to be. I haven't even started it yet. I never update without having another chapter done ahead of time, but it had been so long since the last update that you all deserved something. If you want to get updates on the story, you can bug me on my tumblr: www. ziggypasta. Tumblr. Com or on twitter or on deviantART, or on here. I don't care which.

Gah anyway, I'm sure I could go on forever about stuff and junk, so I'll just shut up.

Love you all!

-Ziggy