"Well—shit."
Steve stares at the writhing vines spread on the floor of the entryway—winding up the stairs—disappearing from view, but probably covering every inch of the second floor as well—and wonders if this little plan of theirs had actually been doomed to fail from the start. He isn't exactly sure how they are going to make it to the attic, without any sort of accident at all.
Actually, scratch that. He knows it will be nearly impossible to make it up to the attic without an accident, but Steve also knows they have no other choice but to try.
Try, and hope it doesn't get them all killed.
"Okay. Okay, so we—we go one at a time," Nancy suggests, managing a faint smile in response to the look of gratitude Steve sends her for taking charge, "And just—you know—don't step on any of the vines."
"Or run into any that are on the walls—"
"Need I remind you that I took way longer to learn to walk than any other babies?"
"Stop. Both of you. We—we've got this."
Steve watches as Nancy reaches out to take Robin's hand, delivering a small squeeze, and takes a moment to acknowledge relief over how the tension between the two of them seems to have faded just a bit, before a clap of thunder and the flash of red lightning in the entryway of the house snaps his attention back to the present in next to no time at all.
"You've got this."
Steve isn't sure if Nancy's repeated assurance is meant for him, or Robin, but he clings to it anyway, stepping forward to plant his boot between two vines before either of them can take the lead, themselves. Once he is sure he has somewhat decent footing, he moves onward, hopping between the next collection of vines, and the next, and the next…
He hears Nancy whisper something to Robin behind him, and then another thud indicates one of them is following along in his wake.
Steve tries to focus on that. On the thuds, and the occasional muted curse that suggests Robin is the one directly at his back. He splits his attention between that, and trying to find a safe path to the stairs, because that is far better than the alternative.
Even still, he can't always prevent his thoughts from straying to Max, Lucas and Erica alone in the real Hawkins. Eddie and Dustin alone at the trailer. Sadie and Vincent off doing God only knows what.
"Steve?"
"Yeah, Robin?"
"Wanna—I don't know—keep it moving?"
Nodding, Steve continues forging a path across the vine-laden floor, leaping onto the first step and pausing just long enough to risk a glance behind him. Robin is close on his heels, and Nancy is about halfway to the stairs, her attention completely fixed on the path before her feet.
Maybe they can do this. Maybe they can really make it to the attic, and Vecna will still be in a trance, and they can end this before anyone else gets hurt, or worse.
Killed.
Steve skips the second step entirely, and hops up to the third, instead, holding his breath as he wobbles for a moment, and has to fight with everything he has to resist the urge to grab onto the railing nearby that is covered in still more dark, writhing vines.
"Nice catch, Dingus."
"Thanks."
"No problem," Robin laughs, the sound more than a little breathy, despite her obvious efforts to the contrary. She sends him a smile, and then Steve is turning back to continue the torturously slow climb up the stairs, swallowing past the lingering nerves that seem determined to plague his every move. Somehow, the act of evading the vines seems more dangerous than his previous encounters with demogorgons, and Russian spies.
It might just be because the threat is less immediate. Knowing that the vine might not do anything to them, but it would definitely call other things that would.
Either way, Steve cannot shake the apprehension that winds like a vice around his chest, and it is all he can do to remind himself to breathe as he finally makes it to the landing, gaining a little more open foot space before they will have to move to the next set of stairs.
"Okay. One part down—two more to go," Robin comments, moving to stand just a little to Steve's left, and turning to watch as Nancy makes it to the landing behind her, "God, this is exhausting—"
"I know. But we need to keep going."
"Flambe. I know."
"Right. Flambe," Nancy repeats, looking between Robin and Steve, her expression unreadable before her attention shifts to take in the vines squelching about on the walls surrounding them. Steve can see her sucking in a breath. Holding it for a minute or two. Letting it out slowly.
And then she is moving to lead the way up the second flight of stairs, Steve and Robin right on her heels until the entire house starts to shake, the ground rumbling beneath the foundation as the three of them cling to one another to try and remain upright.
They don't let go until the shuddering of the floor beneath their feet comes to a stop, each sharing worried glances, and remaining stock still to determine if one more step will put them at risk of the entire ordeal repeating once again. But just as they seem to decide in unison that pulling apart is safe, Robin is giving a startled yelp, her entire body jerking backward until she is pinned to the wall behind her with vines winding around every limb they can find.
"Steve!"
The call is enough to force him into action, and he tugs the ax out of the backpack he wears in seconds, rushing forward to swing at one of the vines while Nancy hacks at another with the butt of her shotgun. Steve manages to cut through two thirds of the vine, trying to ignore the growing panic he feels as Robin's breaths come sharper. Less frequently, as another vine wraps around her throat.
He nearly manages to cut through the vine he's been working on, when he feels it. Something wrapping around his ankle.
Steve barely gets a chance to look down at his feet before they are yanked out from underneath him, the ax clattering to the floor as he, too, is propelling back until he collides with the wall across from Robin, air leaving his lungs in a rush while still more vines wrap around his arms—his other ankle—to keep him in place.
Nancy darts panicked looks between them both, clearly at a loss for who to go to first. Her fingers tighten around the shotgun, knuckles turning white as she tries to take aim for one of the vines pinning Steve's wrist to the wall. As she hopes the sudden shakiness she feels won't alter her aim.
She forces herself to take another shaky breath, her finger tightening a bit on the trigger.
But then she is screaming, something colliding with her back and sending her falling forward onto the floorboards, the gun skittering out of her reach as she struggles to claw her way onto her knees. Nancy manages to get one foot beneath her, preparing to haul herself to her feet immediately after.
Just as she is preparing to stand upright, though, something slithers around her waist, yanking her backward until she is suddenly held captive against the wall, just beside Steve.
She struggles to break free. They all do, but it seems to be ultimately useless, the vines only tightening their hold until further movement is all but impossible. And Nancy can see Robin's eyes. Wide. Panicked. Darting between her, and Steve, as though hoping one of them will come up with some miracle that will get them out of this.
As soon as Nancy hears the sound—the sound she and Steve know quite well—her blood freezes in her veins, her gaze sliding toward the stairs as three dark shapes crawl at them from the darkness.
The first of the demogorgons emerge from that darkness, a low growl echoing around the space as the petal-like facets of its face open to expose its teeth, leaving Robin, Nancy and Steve as nothing better than sitting ducks.
…
"So there's—demogorgons. Demodogs?" Sadie begins, turning from the act of pacing a small path over the floor of the gymnasium, and watching Max's answering nod for a moment before going on, "I'm sorry, what's—what's the difference, again?"
"A demogorgon is the full-fledged monster. Demodogs are just—baby demogorgons."
"Right."
"Either way, still scary as shit," Max says, pursing her lips as Sadie seems to allow the information to sink in, her brow furrowing as she turns to begin pacing her haphazard little path once again, "Then there's the Mind Flayer."
"The Mind—the what?"
"The Mind Flayer."
"And what does—what does that do?" Sadie asks, her harried steps faltering as she realizes Max is not entirely capable of restraining a wince. It takes a moment, but comprehension catches up with her, practically smacking her in the face with startling clarity. And it isn't long after that Sadie is scrambling to make amends, rushing over to where Max sits in a folding chair and automatically reaching out to take the younger girl's hand, "God, I—Max, I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking—"
"It's okay."
"It's not."
"Sadie, I promise you, it's fine," Max assures, trying to resist the instinctive urge to pull away from Sadie's grip on her hand, because in spite of everything that tells her she doesn't need anyone's concern, she would be lying if she tried to say it wasn't somehow nice to have tangible proof that such concern existed, "It's not like we've had a lot of time to give you a crash course on this shit."
"Still, I—I'm sorry. And you don't—you don't have to answer the question if you don't—"
"It's sort of like this thing that can get into your mind. Control you. Make you do things it wants you to do."
"So if it—if it takes over someone," Sadie begins, trying to swallow back some of the apprehension that is threatening to choke her where she stands, "They're essentially, like—"
"Like a pawn."
"And we think Vecna is—"
"The one controlling everything. Yeah," Max confirms, aware of how Sadie seems to pale still further over the words, and frowning as she looks at the fabric of the older girl's shirt.
Fabric that has blood stains on either side that should have stopped growing by now, only they haven't…
"You're still bleeding."
"I'm fine."
"Bats?"
"No," Sadie shakes her head, sighing and moving to pull out another folding chair beside Max's, a wince flickering over her features as the act pulls at the wounds just above her hips, "Demo—one of the demo-things."
"How big was it?"
"Big enough."
Max nods, and the two of them settle into silence, both of them scanning the gymnasium floor for any sign that their little hideout was no longer safe. She chews on her lower lip, because even though Sadie didn't mean for it to happen, her thoughts are straying back to Billy. With those thoughts comes the predictable guilt. The self-loathing and blame.
And she knows she can't be thinking of those things. She needs to cling to the memory of the Snow Ball. How it felt to be dancing with Lucas. Kissing him. Sharing a night with her friends.
Friends. Friends that were depending on her to get this right.
Sadie, who was trying to keep her alive, despite owing her absolutely nothing at all…
"I'm sorry."
"What? Why?"
"For—for dragging you into my shit," Max explains, carefully avoiding Sadie's eyes on her as she keeps her own trained firmly on the floor beneath her feet, "And uh—thanks for—for not ditching me because of it."
"Max, you know I—"
"I gave Steve a letter. For you. Sort of a—contingency plan, for if—"
Sadie wants to cut off any further talk of Max not making it out of this, panic clawing at her heart at just the thought of it, but before she can say a word, one of the small centerpieces on the table they sit beside explodes, a strange, dark goo replacing it, oozing into the fabric of the tablecloth and staining it along the way.
Max's eyes meet Sadie's, then, an unspoken message of horrifying comprehension passing between them before another centerpiece explodes. And another. And another.
"Get behind me."
Sadie expects Max to protest, but the younger girl quickly moves to comply with the request, a hand brushing against her back so lightly that Sadie almost questions if she ever truly felt it at all. But she focuses on it. She clings to it, in fact, trying to control her breathing while her heart seems intent on trying to rocket itself out of her chest.
Anything to keep herself from feeling so alone.
"Oh, but little one, you are. You are alone. And now you are going to die."
Sadie wishes the voice didn't fill her with an almost crippling sense of dread, but it does, her heart leaping into her throat as Max's hand tightens in the fabric of her shirt. She pushes them both a few steps back as the door opposite where they stand disappears entirely, and tries with all she has to keep her breathing steady as Vecna—Henry—appears in its wake.
"I gave you a chance, Sadie. A chance to join me. And time and time again, you refused."
"Still refusing, by the way—"
"That chance is gone."
"I never wanted it," Sadie grits out, keeping her hands relaxed at her side through sheer force of will, and shifting every so often to keep herself firmly planted between Vecna and Max, "I will never want it."
"Even if it will save everyone that you love?"
Before she can fully come to terms with the act, Sadie is pushing the barrier between them as Vecna draws nearer, aware of Max's gasp behind her, and using it as something to ground her in the present, when panic wants nothing more than to overwhelm her. She doesn't know if the barrier will stop Vecna, or if he will simply bat it aside like some obnoxious sort of fly. But regardless, she tries to focus enough to keep it in place. To strengthen it, the edges growing more defined and giving her every reason to believe it might just work.
She risks a glance at Vecna—Henry—anticipating retaliation of some kind, and doing her best to brace herself for when it comes.
What she does not expect is to hear his laugh, chilling and sinister, enough to freeze her blood within her veins.
"Do you truly believe this will stop me?"
Dread twists in Sadie's gut, and she puts as much of herself into holding the barrier steady as she can, but the anticipated blow never comes. She can still feel Max clinging to her shirt. She can hear the younger girl dragging in shaky breaths that seem to rival her own.
Nothing happens, though. Vecna seems to just watch her, occasionally glancing over the barrier with something like mild interest…
And it is that disinterest that leaves Sadie vulnerable to something that has nothing to do with any sort of physical attack at all.
Images flood into her mind before she can stop it, even with the barrier fully in place. Images that send panic clawing at her throat, twining around her until she can barely breathe. And then, she hears the chilling laughter that brings bile to the back of her throat, the burn almost rivaling the sudden sting of tears at the corners of her eyes.
He shows her Lucas and Erica, struggling to hold their own against Andy. Against her brother. Andy has Erica pinned on her stomach on the ground, one arm wrenched behind her back while Jason holds Lucas in a chokehold.
A disturbing whirlwind of light and sound later, and the scene shifts to Steve, Robin and Nancy, vines winding around their bodies, as they struggle to break free. A shadow moves at the edges of the image, but Sadie does not have the time to place what it might be before she is tumbling forward again, to be thrown in front of another depiction that has her choking out a sob before she can stop it.
Eddie.
Somehow, he is leaving the trailer, despite promising to follow Nancy's plan for what they were doing to the letter. She can't see Dustin, but that could just be because of the swarm of bat-like creatures following after Eddie as he furiously bikes away. And she has no way of knowing if any of this—any of what she is seeing is even real.
But she also doesn't fully know that it is not.
"Look at them, little one. All of your friends are dying."
"No. No, you're—you're trying to trick me."
"All you have to do is stand aside. Stand aside, and I will spare them."
"You're lying."
"Am I? Or are you gambling with the lives of your friends?"
Sadie bites back another sob as she tries to corral the panic that is practically singing through her veins. It's a trap. It has to be. Vecna is just trying to derail her priorities. To distract her so that he has a clear path forward to Max.
But what if he's not? What if everything he is showing her is happening, right now?
What if their friends really are in danger, and her disbelief will only sentence them all to death?
The doubt and fear building in her are making it hard to focus. Hard to breathe. Everything is jumbling together in her mind, and she is dimly aware of how the barrier is flickering in time with the rapid pounding of her heart. And before she can stop it, every last bit of that raw energy is flinging outward, completely shattering the barrier, and sending Vecna careening back a few feet in the process.
"Holy shit."
Max's startled exclamation is enough to center Sadie's focus on the here and now, rather than the horror show that Vecna had been unfolding in her mind, stumbling back a few paces as a wave of fatigue crashes over her in the aftermath. A part of her senses Vecna's movement, his anger almost palpable as he regains his footing, and she scrambles to replace the barrier that had been between them before.
Sadie knows she only has seconds before he tries to get back into her mind again, and so she ignores the barrier for a moment in favor of practically hurling her panic at the tenuous connection between herself and Vincent, hoping that even with her inexperience, his insistence that said bond would be an open means of communication between them would prove to be correct.
"Help him. Vincent, please, help—help him."
She hopes Vincent will know who to go to. Hopes he will have seen Vecna's taunts because of their connection. He wouldn't have been able to get to Lucas and Erica in time, back in the real Hawkins. And she knows that the trailer park is farther from his home than Creel House.
A feeling not all that far from guilt settles in the pit of her stomach at the thought of pleading with Vincent to save Eddie, when Robin, Nancy and Steve are in danger as well. But before she can spend any amount of time considering whether or not she made the right call, Sadie is jolted back to the present once again, this time by the force of Vecna sending her propelling into the bleachers at her side with a singular flick of his hand.
…
As one of the bats breaks off from its companions to slam its body against his side, effectively knocking him off of his bike, Eddie wonders if he would have been better off just sticking to Nancy's plan.
He scrambles to his feet, though, knowing that was never an option. Not when the bats made their way into the trailer. Not when he knew they would simply follow him and Dustin through the gate. They would have wreaked havoc in the real Hawkins. Killing anything and everything—everyone that got in their way.
For a moment, Eddie had considered that Sadie might have been able to close the gate and mitigate the threat to their world. But she wasn't there. Once again, he had allowed her to go off on her own, her own task seeming insurmountably more difficult than the one he and Dustin faced.
It had been that brief thought of the girl he adores beyond reason that opened the floodgates, and everything had gone spiraling out of control as a result.
He can still see it, the memory of a shrill cry echoing in his mind as he forces himself to continue moving. To keep luring the bats away from the trailer as best he can. The farther he gets, the more the images fight to return, though, prodding their way to the forefront of his mind like some sort of horror movie on steroids. Sadie, lying on the floor of a gymnasium, not moving. Limbs splayed at sickening angles. Deadened eyes.
Worse than that, though, had been the voice. The laughter.
"She will die, Eddie. She is dying already, and this is all you will have left of her. The memory of a broken body and the guilt of a man who never stopped running."
Running. That's what Eddie has been doing since all of this started. It is what he is doing now. He could try to justify it as luring the bats away from Dustin. Trying to get to Sadie before it is too late. But it's still running. He isn't doing anything that he hasn't done already, at least a million times over.
"You are a coward, Edward Munson. That is all you have ever been, and all you will ever be."
Before he is even fully aware of it, Eddie is slowing to a stop, the screeching of the bats growing closer as a result. And it dawns on him that what he is doing—trying to help Sadie—will only lead the bats straight to her and Vincent. Vincent will be the only one that will actually be able to fight them with any hope of success if Sadie is still trying to protect Max.
He can practically hear the snarky commentary Sadie's uncle will likely throw his way, but that isn't what roots him to the spot. It's the thought of putting Sadie in any more danger than she is in already. The thought of her last memory of him being something Vecna twists to his own advantage.
"She already knows. She knows what you are, and she hates you for it."
Eddie tries to remind himself that if Sadie truly hated him, she wouldn't have allowed him to kiss her. She wouldn't have stayed with him in the boathouse. She would have left the first chance she had, after Patrick died.
Sadie had done none of those things, but in spite of how stupid it is, Eddie can't exactly stop himself from going back to one thing she had not done. One thing she had not seemed able to do.
She hadn't said it back.
She hadn't said she loved him, and although a part of him knows he is only giving Vecna what he wants—letting the asshole into his head—the other part can't help but wonder…
How much of the kissing had she wanted, and how much had she allowed to happen simply because she was too kind to push him away?
Grabbing the spear, and the makeshift shield he had hammered together in the clearing what feels like ages ago, now Eddie turns to face the bats head-on, determined to do something to disprove Vecna's claims. To prove to himself that he isn't as weak—as useless—as a part of him has always feared.
The impact of them hurling themselves against the shield is staggering, to say the least, but Eddie holds his ground, hoping with everything he has that he hasn't just made the stupidest decision of his life.
That he hasn't just gotten himself killed.
…
"Help him. Vincent, please, help—help him."
A curse escapes as Vincent recognizes the desperation behind Sadie's plea before she slams the metaphorical door on the tenuous connection forged between them prior to when she went under to find Max. He recalls telling her in no uncertain terms that if that connection was lost, they would not be able to remake it, but here she is, severing it anyway. Severing it for someone else. Someone else, Vincent reminds himself, that is supposedly wanted for murder.
The girl is rapidly showing that she is far too worried about the others for her own good. That she is becoming too bold. Too reckless.
And one of those traits is going to end up getting her killed.
Left with effectively no means of defending Sadie from Henry, however, Vincent pushes past his mounting frustration over his niece's decision, instead trying to reach out to get a feel for what might be going on at the trailer park. Because he knows Eddie Munson is the 'him' Sadie referred to. He knows it as well as he knows his own name.
Making a mental note to talk to Sadie about how unwise it is to allow herself to become so attached to someone who is, comparatively speaking, defenseless against the sorts of things their family history will bring about, Vincent follows the vague impressions of a path that he thinks will lead him to the kid his niece is so enthralled with, but almost as soon as he makes a connection, he wishes he hadn't.
Because Eddie Munson is going to die.
Bats have already started to surround him, and Vincent has to give him credit for trying to fight back, alternating between striking them away with what is clearly meant to be a shield, and trying to bring the rest down with the pointed end of a spear. But that plan of attack is not going to last for long, and Vincent knows enough about the creatures Henry has at his beck and call to recognize a lost cause when he sees one.
There is absolutely no way he can get to him in time. Not before the damage is already done. The bats are starting to converge. To get closer. To attack in groups of two, and then three. Four, rather than just one at a time. One of them winds its tail around Eddie's neck, dragging him backwards and forcing him to drop the shield and spear, in favor of clawing at his throat.
The kid is on the ground in seconds, spread-eagled from the efforts of the bats seizing at his arms and legs, effectively negating any attempt at breaking free…
If Vincent even tries to get to the trailer park to help, Eddie will already be long gone, and there is still no sign of the other kid—the younger one that had been with him, leading Vincent to believe he is likely dead already.
He spends a moment contemplating what he will tell Sadie. How he will explain leaving Eddie to fend for himself, in spite of her obviously desperate plea. A part of him already anticipates her hating him for it, but Vincent seizes on another tentative connection in seconds, following it until it lands on three people that clearly need his aid far more. Three people that might still stand a chance to get out of this alive.
He is honestly surprised he is able to find them at all, but the strongest part of what he had followed had been the Harrington kid's distaste for him in particular.
Apparently that feeling had been more useful than Vincent originally thought.
One last look at where Sadie is sitting, completely unaware of her surroundings while lost in Henry's world—lost in whatever he was making her see—solidifies his decision, and Vincent wastes no time placing as many barriers as he can between her, and anything that may come looking while he is away. He knows the solution is not perfect, and he prays he is not making a mistake.
But if he can no longer help her with defending Max, this seems like the next best thing. And if he can get to Steve, Robin and Nancy in time, he might be able to break Henry from his trance before either Max or Sadie come to any real, tangible harm.
Vincent reminds himself that this is the best choice. That eventually, Sadie will see it too.
As he jogs out of the secondary version of his home, and secures another barrier around the perimeter, though, he knows it will not be that simple. It wasn't that simple for him, all those years ago, so why should he expect things to be any different for Sadie?
He remembers what he told her when he had happened upon her and Eddie in the woods near Lover's Lake.
This is the price of being a Creel.
And not for the first time, Vincent catches himself wishing that the two of them could be literally anything else.
…
Steve can't breathe. He can barely think, the vines winding even tighter around his arms—his legs—his neck—despite how he is almost positive such a thing should have been impossible. He can barely see Nancy moving anymore from the corner of his eye, and Robin's lips have started turning blue.
He doesn't understand how it came to this. Where they went wrong. One minute, they had been navigating the stairs slowly, but with relative success, and the next, the ground had been trembling beneath their feet.
And then, this. Being pinned against a wall writhing with vines. Being squeezed, bit by bit, until he was all but certain at least one of them would come away with a missing limb. But that wasn't even the worst of it. Not even close.
No, the worst part would be the three hulking shapes, crawling closer through the darkness. Watching them. Almost taunting them, because there is no other explanation for the exaggerated slowness of their approach.
Steve knows this is the end. He, Robin and Nancy are going to be ripped apart, probably slowly. Agonizingly. Painfully.
He starts struggling against the vines on instinct, but it isn't in an attempt to get away. Not really. Not when he knows it is far too late for that.
Rather, Steve starts to struggle in hopes of drawing the attention of the creatures to him, rather than to Nancy and Robin, because even though he knows he isn't ready to be eaten alive, Steve also knows one other thing.
He would gladly bring that fate upon himself rather than being forced to watch, powerless, while his friends are devoured right before his eyes.
The first of the demogorgons seem to take the bait, angling towards him with the petals that make up its face opening as though it can already taste an easy victory. It rears back on its hind legs, one clawed arm drawing back, ready to strike. To tear into his skin like it is nothing more substantial than wax paper. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to prepare for the pain. Trying to focus on Nancy and Robin, there with him, to remind him why he even started to struggle to begin with. But the anticipated blow never comes. The pain searing across his abdomen—his neck—anything—never comes.
Instead, a sudden, explosive force bowls into him, stealing whatever breath remained in his lungs that has not already been taken by the vines, the pained shrieks that echo in the stairway causing him to wince, before they fade away, the pressure keeping him pinned to the wall suddenly releasing, and sending him falling to the floorboards to land painfully on his hands and knees.
Steve chokes as he tries to drag air back into his lungs, twin thuds on either side of him giving him every reason to believe that Nancy and Robin have been released as well. And as he lifts his head to look at the carnage around him—disembodied chunks of demogorgon littered at uneven intervals along the floor—Steve spends a moment wondering what on earth could have caused that sort of damage…
Or at least he wonders until the creak of the top stair causes his gaze to jerk upwards, relief flooding him for only a moment as he recognizes Vincent standing there, before panic claws its way in yet again.
"Where the hell is Sadie?"
…
Okay, guys, before any of you come after me with knives and pitchforks, or an army of the flayed, or something, I am begging you to trust me! Pretty, pretty please? With sugar on top? I have a plan. A plan that does not include Eddie being taken out of the story permanently, regardless of what it may look like, here. I'm kind of/sort of toeing the line with canon, but remember…I'm already planning a sequel! So things are definitely not all as they seem! And I appreciate each and every one of you that does decide to go with the flow and stick with me! There really is a method to my madness, I swear! Though, if you want to send an army after Vincent…I won't argue with you there ;).
I'm also hoping the way I'm splitting things up between various members of the group isn't too confusing. I'm trying my best to show glimpses of what each of them are going through, bit by bit, while also trying to make sure it doesn't negatively impact the flow of the story because as we know, these events are all happening at relatively the same time. Rest assured, I think I will be able to tie everything together in a chapter or two more! It is definitely not my intent to drag things out beyond what is needed, so hopefully that isn't what it seems like at all!
Many thanks, as always, to all of you that have taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story so far! A special thanks to last chapter's reviewers, as well, for leaving such lovely feedback the last time around (mistyagami, SailorErinViz95, phoward, and SunflowerJ, this means you!) I am so, so grateful for your feedback and support, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you seem to have enjoyed the last!
Until next time, angels…
MOMM