I have returned! I am currently on my reading break, and made it my mission to bring you the next chapter! The next few weeks are going to be really busy, but I'm hoping to end this story by the beginning of December by the very latest! I really hope you enjoy, and I adore your reviews 3

When citizens thought of the mercenaries of Teufort, known to many only as 'The Teufort Nine', many adjectives came to mind.

Brutal? Certainly. Violent? Without a doubt. Dangerous? Always.

But if those citizens had access to the inner belly of the RED base following the dissolution of Scout and Sniper's marriage, much different words would come to mind.

Indeed, the men of RED (and Pyro), skilled and battle hardened, were appearing more and more like the prey animals of the desert, retreating to hideouts unless deemed necessary.

As the days wore on, instead of appearing as the lethal, if slightly disorganised band of fighters the town knew, the REDs became annoyed, indifferent, or downright uncomfortable with each other.

And all awkward interactions and silent rooms could be traced back to Scout and Sniper's separation and subsequent refusal to acknowledge each other's existence, at least not directly.

On one hand, it was as though the last few weeks had never happened. Sniper remained in his camper unless absolutely necessary, saying next to nothing during matches, and then retreating immediately with nary a word to anyone. No one was even sure when he ate, since he never showed for meals and was all but a ghost outside of matches.

However, Scout behaved profoundly differently than before the entire debacle, not only towards Sniper, but people in general. Naturally, the friendly and teasing relationship he had had with the Australian had vanished, although he didn't outright avoid him.

But other team members noted that Scout had become, if possible, even louder and brasher than before his marriage. He was constantly in their faces, bragging and laughing and getting far too drunk on the weekend to the point Demo had begun hiding his liquor or savagely guarding what was on his person.

Engineer also reported that Scout had flirted with anyone who had come close to them when they went to town for food, but he had done it almost angrily, and clearly for his own ego.

No one had missed the quiet storm of Sniper leaving the room upon hearing that Scout had been giving romantic attention to others. Of course, he had departed before Engineer elaborated to Medic, Demo, and Heavy his theory that Scout was seeking validation and attention anywhere he could find it due to his wounded pride.

And they had agreed with him. Of course they had. Anyone with eyes could see that although Scout was hurting, his heart was still with Sniper.

His eyes still went to the marksman whenever they were in a room together, and it was difficult to miss the sadness that flickered through them whenever Sniper turned his back on him and walked away. The glances he threw out the window towards Sniper's camper as he plodded to his own bedroom were full of longing, although he tried to hide them whenever anyone else glanced at him.

However, this attitude and his insistence on acting that everything was fine was making it very hard for the other mercenaries to feel sorry for him. That evening was no exception.

All of the mercs, save for Spy and Sniper, were gathered in the kitchen/living room for a peaceful drink or just to sit by the fire after the long day. At least, it had been peaceful until Scout burst in, rifling through cupboards and the refrigerator with zeal and amassing snacks in his arms.

Medic watched with disgust as he dumped the load onto the table and cracked open a can of BONK!

"You really shouldn't drink that, you know. It vill deteriorate your stomach lining."

Scout, already halfway through the can, shrugged him off. "I drink these everyday, doc, it'll be fine!"

"But that is at least your third, ja?"

The runner polished off the rest of the can, finishing with a loud burp that had some of the men rolling their eyes. "Fourth, but who's countin'?"

Demo piped up from closer to the fire, concern evident across his ragged face. "Ack! I may be addicted to swally, but even I know me limits. Ya really ought to stop!"

Unfortunately, this rare show of genuine concern only served to irritate Scout, who furrowed his brow. "This is nothing like you and yer booze, 'cause unlike ya, I actually got a reason ta drink! So mind yer business, okay?"

He turned his back on the other REDs, walking back to the fridge to grab at least two more cans to add to his pile of junk food. Medic, however, seemed to have deemed the matter his hill to die on.

"Zhis has to stop! If you are going to wallow in self-pity, for the love ov god, do it in a vhay that does not impact your health!" He rose from his chair and approached the table to stand opposite Scout, who bristled again.

"You don't know what you're talking about, just leave me the fuck alone, okay?" The youngest merc reached for another can only to have it snatched away.

Medic fixed him with an intense stare, as though to let the runner know he could see right through him. "Ve know you are upset about your husband, but you vill treat me with respect when you speak to me, especially vhen you are undoing my work!"

"Upset?" Scout wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why would I be upset about Sniper, I broke up with HIM!"

"We know that, son, but…well…" Engineer attempted to find a tactful way to ask his question.

Soldier, however, had no such decorum, and slammed his boot against the ground, narrowly missing Pyro's foot. "But why? I have been wracking my brain for days, and even this superior American mind cannot determine why you left him, you were in-"

"It wasn't real!" Scout cut him off, glaring at where he assumed Soldier's eyes were under his helmet. He wasn't screaming, not yet, but his voice rose beyond the irritation he had directed at Medic. "Gosh, wouldya guys get that inta your stupid skulls? We were pretending, the whole time, and we were always gonna break so we could be with people we actually wanted! An' Saxton Hale's gone, so we didn't need to pretend anymore, an' I ended things. You shoulda seen him, he was more than happy ta sign the papers when I suggested it! He didn't-doesn't love me!"

For a moment, the others simply looked at him, wearing expressions other varying confusion, interest, or pity. He hated that last one the most, but glaring at Engineer and Demoman didn't change their expressions one bit.

It was Pyro who broke the silence, if one could call it that, since only Soldier heard what they said.

But still, he nodded sagely at Pyro. "Affirmative, soldier!"

"What? What'd they say?" Scout demanded, rounding the table, but avoiding Medic, who was still holding the can of BONK!. Maybe if he ignored the man, he'd put it down and he could snatch it as he left.

Soldier beamed at him, the mania back in his eyes. "They said you're a liar! And I would wager their instincts are correct!"

"Good for ya." Scout muttered. "Ya know, I don't have to stay an' listen ta this!"

Not that he wanted to go back to his room now that he already had to spend every night in there, alone. He had never been one for 'quiet time' in his bedroom, but now that he had his time in Sniper's van to compare it to, the room seemed even less welcoming. He even hated sleeping; now that he knew the comfort of falling asleep next to someone and waking up in their arms, his bed always felt cold and empty.

Thinking about the lazy mornings he had spent cuddling with Sniper just last week made him even angrier. "Gimme that!"

He tried to snatch the can of BONK! From Medic, but the man held it out of his reach.

"Vhy must you torture yourself? Ve all know you love the Australian, so something must have happened between you. It vould not kill you to tell us."

With a muffled cry of frustration, Scout gave up on his pursuit of the soda entirely and shouted at the doctor. "Because he was tryna control me, okay? He was so sure I couldn't take care of myself on the battlefield that he wanted me ta quit altogether! How do ya think I felt?"

Medic pursed his lips, an expression of bitterness washing over his face. Lowering the can of BONK! To the table, Medic said pointedly: "Vell, perhaps you were not so unreasonable after all."

"Thank-"

Scout was cut off by Heavy, who had yet to speak that evening. "Do not start this now, Docktor."

"Start vhat?" Medic questioned, a little too cheerfully. "I am merely stating that Herr Scout does not need Herr Sniper to be so worried that he gets in the way of his profession. Leaving him altogether may have been a bit of an over-reaction, but his frustration is understandable."

"Well, Sniper is right to worry when Scout is focused on his work he does look out for danger." The Russian responded, calmly, but firmly. "Perhaps Sniper is tired of wondering if BLU spy has killed Scout because he never sees him coming."

Medic sniffed indignantly, skirting Scout on his way out of the room. "Perhaps SNIPER should believe that Scout is capable of taking care of himself and does not need to be coddled like a child!"

Scout watched him go with wide eyes, anger turning swiftly to confusion. "Uhh…you guys aren't talkin' about me, are ya?"

Heavy sighed…heavily. "Docktor is like leetle Scout…stubborn. He gets excited about his work and leaves Heavy during battle, is fine except he does not pay attention and BLU spy has realized that. Heavy is tired of finding dead Docktor, but he will not listen to Heavy."

"Oh um…that sucks man, I didn't know." Scout answered awkwardly. He knew how defensive Medic could be about his role as a support class, since his primary task wasn't fighting. "Wait, did Sniper know about this? Is that why he's been so worried?"

"Heavy told no one." The big Russian said, sadness twinging in his voice. He had turned his back on the other mercenaries, almost blocking them out of the conversation. "But Docktor did say he found Sniper with dead Scout and Sniper was very upset."

Shit. Scout's stomach dropped remembering how Sniper had reacted after that fateful match. How pale his face had been, and how he hadn't focused on anything but convincing himself that Scout was alive. And then he had gone and dumped him.

"Hehe, yeah, tha BLU spy got me too, an' I didn't know Sniper was lookin' for me until I was almost dead. Weird that he would stick around after I died though…"

"Finding dead partner is…worst thing." Heavy paused, eyes far away as though reliving a hurtful memory. "Medic said Sniper did not let go until you respawned."

"Oh." Scout didn't know what else to say. In his delirium, he had thought he had asked Sniper to stay with him, but it had been the middle of a battle for pete's sake! He had never thought that Sniper, the efficient man that he was, would waste time after he had died. But the knowledge that the Australian had stayed beside him even after he was long gone, and had abandoned his work entirely for Scout…something dreadful was gnawing at his gut, and he didn't like it one bit.

Across the room, Soldier had decided it was his moment to speak up again. "If no one else is going to say it, then I will! The Sniper is in love with you!"

Scout's face screwed up in confusion until Engineer nodded. "I second that, pardner."

"Aye!" Demoman agreed, rummaging under the couch (one of his hiding places), for more scrumpy.

"Mmee mophluf mouph!" Pyro tried to say, in a tone that conveyed they were agreeing with the others.

Scout leaned back against the table, suddenly feeling much heavier than before. He was stunned by how un-stunned he was by this explanation. Of course Sniper loved him, it made perfect sense!

He had thought the marksman had before, when they were in his camper after that awful match and Sniper had been so concerned and caring. Of course, all thoughts of love had died when Sniper had pulled out the divorce papers, but he had only done that because he was hurt about losing Scout, that was obvious now! Everything else: the kisses, the gentle words, all the time they had spent together-it had all been real.

And what had Scout done? He had told Sniper he didn't love him back.

The runner rubbed at his face. "Shit."

Demoman chuckled, cracking open his bottle on the edge of the coffee table, where a spot had been worn from that very action. "Recognizing you've been a bellend is a good first step!"

"You must talk with him." Heavy seemed to have regained his composure, standing straight and literal feet taller than Scout. "Tell Sniper you thought he was pretending and never wanted to hurt him."

Scout considered this. He hadn't tried talking to Sniper yet, he had been focused on proving how totally fine he was without him. But maybe he wasn't. Like, at all. And if Sniper loved him, then the man must miss him too! It might take a bit to get the sharpshooter to open up, he was prickly like that, but if anyone could do it, it was Scout!

"Alright, alright, I prolly should apologise. But if I talk ta him, ya gotta talk to the Doc, big man. Tell 'im whatcha said to us."

The Russian looked doubtful, but when his eyes cast over Scout's shoulder, the larger man tensed up a little. "Now is chance, here he is."

Scout's head snapped to the side door, which he hadn't even noticed opening. Now, a slight breeze tugged at his shirt as he gazed at Sniper, who was standing in the doorway.

He didn't look particularly put together, in fact he looked exhausted, and clearly hadn't shaved in the time they had been separated. But in that moment, he was the best thing Scout had ever seen.

He had never felt so awkward. "Hey Sniper, it's-it's good ta see ya…"

The Australian glanced at him with the same dead eyed stare he had been giving everyone for the past week. "We got a contract."

"What? Us?" Scout laughed, a little awkwardly. Sniper hadn't been this cold with him since they had met, and even then it had been more shyness that had held Sniper back. Working together could be good for them, but it looked like Sniper was planning to give him a hard time on the road.

"I'm talkin' to the heavy." Or maybe it was worse than that.

Heavy looked from Sniper to Scout, his distaste for being put in the middle clear on his face. "We have job now?"

"The Administrator doesn't give a shite what time it is, ya know that. C'mon, I'll tell ya what we're doin' in the truck."

It was then that Scout noticed the rifle on Sniper's back. He had a bag with him too, likely full of rounds for the weapon. He was ready to leave, but Scout couldn't let him go yet, not without telling him the truth. If he had to wait another week, or even another day without hugging Sniper, was going to lose his mind.

Heavy, it seemed, had decided to help him. "Heavy is not ready to leave, is wearing shorts and left Sasha in case. Wait here, will not be long."

Leaving no room for argument, the Russian plodded out the door, leaving Scout and Sniper glancing at each other awkwardly. Sniper had come inside enough to close the door, but there was still a distance between them, one they couldn't bridge with words alone.

Engineer stood up abruptly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I got some projects that need see'in to, good luck there, Sniper."

Suddenly, everyone else had excuses too, even Pyro, although no one could hear what it was. As the other men filed out of the room, dragging Demo behind them when he stopped to grab another scrumpy, Scout stepped a little closer to his ex-husband.

"I haven't seen ya much, how have ya been doing?"

Sniper's grey eyes flickered to him for a moment, then focused on some dirt on his hands. He said nothing in response.

The runner frowned a little, but tried again. "Soo…ya got a contract, that's cool, must be nice ta get off base again. Where'ya goin' anyways?"

Again, no response from the sharpshooter. If anyone else had been in the room, they wouldn't have been surprised to see Scout lose his patience.

"What the fuck, why're ya ignoring me?"

Sniper snorted a little, still not looking at him. "I thought ya said ya were done talkin' ta me." he muttered, and Scout immediately felt a little bad.

"I-I didn't mean that, ya know I could never stop talkin' to someone, especially you. I only said that 'cause I was angry ya wanted to split up, and I'm…I'm real sorry, man."

There, he had said it. Sniper did deserve the apology, but Scout hoped he was through talking about his feelings that day. There was only so much a guy could take.

However, instead of coming back into his arms like he thought the man would, Sniper merely shrugged. "So you're sorry, good fer ya."

He took a step back to lean against the door frame, still-STILL not looking right at Scout. "That doesn't mean I forgive ya. I tried to look out for ya and ya treated me like shite."

"Fuck, I know, I know. It really felt like you were tryna control me, but now I get you were doing that to protect me, 'cause ya love me! And that's actually a good thing, 'cause I love you-"

"Stop."

Scout stopped talking. He didn't remember deciding to stop exactly, but Sniper was finally looking at him, albeit with the same dead-eyed expression.

"Don't lie ta me."

"What're ya talkin', Snipes? Ya think I'd lie about that?"

Sniper inhaled deeply, like he was fighting to hold his emotions back. "The last time ya said ya loved me, you told me later it was a lie. Now you're saying that was a lie too? Can't say I believe anything ya have ta say."

He was turning away, turning his back on Scout, so the runner tried the only thing he could think of. "Mick, c'mon just listen fer a second!"

That got Sniper's attention, as he wheeled back around and stalked closer to Scout. "Don't say moy name. Ya don't get to use it anymore."

He never raised his voice, but the force behind it made Scout feel sick. He'd never thought about how much he'd hurt Sniper by ending things. How could he not have seen that Sniper had loved him the way he'd always wanted someone to?

He didn't respond, but Sniper seemed to be expecting this, as he turned back around towards the door. The space between them ripped even wider, and Scout realized with a jolt that nothing he could say would convince Sniper to come hold him, and forgive him, and close that gap.

"If you're not lying-"

Scout raised his head from where it dropped against his chest.

"-then you're gonna hafta prove it. But not roight now. I don't want to talk to you roight now."

They were still standing there when Heavy walked in a few moments later, Sniper facing the door, and Scout's body facing him, but eyes focused on the floor. Neither said a word.

"Should Heavy go?" The large man asked, sensing the high emotions and the hurt in Scout's downcast face.

"No." Sniper wrested open the door without a backward glance. "We're done here."

It took nearly three days before Medic began to fret. Medic fretting was a strange sight to the other mercenaries, as the man was usually unflappable in any situation that did not involve the well-being of his doves.

But the German had begun waiting beside the windows of the living room every night, pacing and muttering and glancing at the phone. It had been three days since any of them had heard from Heavy or Sniper, and despite not knowing how long the contract was supposed to take, Medic's instinct's said something was wrong.

"It haus been too long." He insisted to Spy, who was far from a sympathetic ear, but could see the sense in the assumption nonetheless.

"I am certain zhey will return soon." The Frenchman responded, turning a page in his newspaper. "I would hardly be surprized if the bushman has merely gotten zhem lost."

"Regardless, Misha never takes this long to update me. If they vere successful, he vould have contacted us by now."

"And if zhey were NOT, the Administrator would have informed us." Spy insisted. "Perhaps zhey are not held up at all, and he merely does not want to talk to you."

Medic left in a huff, deciding not stoop to the Frenchman's level when he was already feeling agitated. He would just remember the insult the next time Spy was in need of his aid.

But by mid-day with four days of silence past, some of the others became concerned as well. Heavy and Sniper were both efficient and focused men, and their continued silence and absence made no sense to anyone.

"Still nothin'?" Engineer questioned as he entered the kitchen, where a few others were having lunch. Medic shook his head, looking distracted and worn from lack of sleep.

"What's takin' 'em so long?" Scout asked no one in particular from the end of the table. He had given up on pretending not to care about Sniper's absence when Medic had begun to unravel. If the composed doctor was worried, then fuck it, Scout was too.

"I have no idea. All I know is Misha took his minigun, and zhey left in the white truck. But zhey could have gone anywhere!" He looked expectantly at Scout. "Did Sniper tell you anything?"

Scout refused to meet his eyes, looking down at his now-empty plate. "Other than he was takin' his rifle, no. He didn't want ta talk."

Medic nodded distractedly, clearly uninterested, but Engineer frowned as he opened a can of beans. "So the talk didn't go well? That's a shame."

"If ya can call it that!" Scout lamented. "He didn't even let me get two sentences out before he was callin' me a liar! Whata jackass!"

He snorted, crossing his arms and leaning back his chair, hoping he looked nonchalant despite the despair that had settled inside him.

Engineer opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Soldier crashing through the door with a shout. "The heavy has returned!"

Medic straightened up immediately, eyes brightening almost instantly. "Are you certain?"

"Affirmative, I saw him get out of an unknown vehicle."

"What about Sniper?" Scout practically cut the older man off. Soldier hadn't said a word about him, which was odd given Soldier's usual need for precision.

"The heavy was alone, but he must know where the sniper is!"

It was a logical answer, but the words did not calm Scout. If Heavy had made it back, where was Sniper? Heavy wasn't the type of guy to leave someone behind-unless he had to. Scout's stomach churned at the thought.

When the internal door to the kitchen/living room creaked open, the mercenaries present all turned at once to see Heavy standing on the threshold, looking bruised, but intact. Some of his clothes were torn, and red superficial scratches were present on his face and forearms.

Medic crossed the room first with a relieved smile, but there was deep concern in his eyes. "Misha! Mein god, ve vere wondering what happened to you! Come sit, let me have a look at you! Does your chest hurt? Any internal injuries?"

Heavy tolerated Medic peppering him with questions silently, barely reacting beyond a nod and a miniscule smile. As he followed Medic deeper into the room to sit heavily on a chair, Engineer got to him next.

"Where have ya been, pardner? Y'all up and left so fast we didn't even know where ta look for ya!"

"We didn't go far." Heavy responded flatly, eyes fixed on a point in the distance none of the men could see. "Only one day drive away. The job was to take out small drug gang in old warehouse and take any money we found. Toxic drugs are circulating in and make people sick, not good for Administrator."

Scout and Soldier drew closer as Heavy explained the contract, sitting on the edge of the couch as Medic continued to poke and prod the largest man.

"Nothing serious, just scratches. Do not scare me like zhat again." The doctor said firmly, but he looked happier than he had in many days.

This connection between the two other men prompted Scout to ask for what felt like the tenth time that day: "If ya're back, where's Sniper?"

Heavy's face dropped a little, and he waved off Medic's fluttering hands, leaning forward in his seat. In a slow tone, almost like he was speaking to a child, he began:

"When we got to warehouse, all men are inside. We decided Heavy would surprise them at door, since they had only pistols, nothing to match Sasha. Any that ran out the back would be killed by Sniper from roof. But this did not happen. Zhey were making drugs in warehouse, very dangerous place. Heavy did not realize until too late that bullet might cause explosion-"

He stopped, rubbing at his face while Medic patted his shoulder sympathetically. He was nearly positive on what Heavy was trying to tell them.

"They shot back at Heavy, so I do not know who caused it, but warehouse exploded, one bang after another. Heavy had barely came in door, so I ran away, but got hit with debris. When I woke, whole warehouse had come down and was burning."

Uncharacteristically, Scout did not say a word. He just stared at Heavy expectantly, waiting for the Russian to laugh, to tell them it was a joke.

Engineer decided to ask the question they all knew the answer to. "And…the sniper?"

Heavy looked guilty. "He was on roof when roof caved in. There is no way he wouldn't have fallen into fire."

"Ya don't know!" Scout practically sprang out of his seat at Heavy.

"Scout-" Engineer tried.

"No! If ya were runnin' away, then ya didn't see him fall! So ya don't know that he died!"

Heavy barely flinched, even though Scout was yelling in his face. In the long, silent drive back to the base, he had guessed this would be Scout's reaction.

"Heavy looked for him, around the fire, but saw nothing at all. The fire department came, so Heavy hid and watched them put it out, and looked after they left. No one survived fire."

The runner was beginning to breathe hard, looking away from Heavy to the other mercenaries, practically begging them with his eyes to give him some hope. "But-no, a fire wouldn't kill him, he's stronger than that. Maybe he's hurt, but still hid 'imself so he didn't get arrested, an' ya didn't see him. Maybe you left him there by 'imself!"

He pointed an accusatory finger at Heavy, who just looked sad. "Heavy is sorry, leetle Scout. Sniper is-"

"Don't!" Scout cut him off. "Don't you fuckin' say that! He's gonna come back, he always does!"

Multiple hands tried to reach out for him, whether to comfort him or to pull him out of Heavy's face, he didn't know. But the runner jumped over the couch and threw himself out of the external door before any of them could even get close.

Medic watched him go with a melancholy sigh. "I am certain ve all know vhere he is going. It is best to let him grieve for now, leave him be."

His partner sank forward, elbows resting on his knees. "It was Sniper's idea, Heavy did not mean for this to happen."

"Ve know, schatz." Medic consoled, settling himself on the arm of Heavy's chair. "And you do not have to tell the others if you do not vish to, I vill do it."

"It is Heavy's responsibility." The Russian said, the emptiness returning to his eyes.

Looking out the window at the sun-bleached desert, Engineer removed his hardhat. "That's a right sad ending to their story, ain't it?"

The door to Sniper's campervan burst open and Scout stumbled inside, eyes scanning it wildly for any signs of the marksman. The blinds were drawn, casting the space in a dim glow so that Scout could only see outlines deeper in the camper.

Pulling open the blinds, Scout's hopes were dashed-the van was empty, with no sign of Sniper. Additionally, his boots, hat, and rifle case were missing from where Scout knew he kept them after his time living with him.

Toeing off his sneakers, Scout cast his eyes over the small space that he had shared with his husband only a week earlier. It looked virtually the same, if not a little tidier than it had been with him living there. The only thing that was out of place was Sniper's '#1 Sniper' mug sitting on the counter, cold dredges of coffee still in the bottom.

A small smile crossed Scout's lips as he spotted the Australian's favourite mug, only to die when he remembered why he was there. Everything was still in place, waiting for Sniper to return, so there was no way that he had run off, was there? He would never leave without his campervan, Scout knew how much he loved it.

Distractedly, Scout wondered if Sniper would have left without him, or at the very least, without saying goodbye to him.

No. He wouldn't have. Because Sniper had loved him just as much as the old campervan, if not more.

A thought struck the runner, and he was abruptly rushing to Sniper's bedside, tearing open drawers until he found what he was looking for. He dumped the annulment papers on the bed, flipping through them so fast he got more than one paper cut searching for the correct page.

But when he finally found it, his heart plunged in despair. If he had had any doubts of Sniper's love, they shattered in the face of the evidence that Sniper couldn't let him go, even after Scout had effectively broken his heart.

Dropping to sit on the bed he had shared with Sniper what felt like a lifetime ago, Scout clutched the stack of papers in his wrapped hands, feeling tears prick to his eyes.

Sniper had left thinking that Scout was lying when he said he loved him, and he had died thinking that his love was not returned.

In a burst of grief and despair, the runner threw the annulment forms as far away from him as possible, collapsing against the pillow of the small bed that was now all he had left of Sniper.

As he breathed in the scent of the man he would never see again, the papers he had thrown settled to the carpeted floor, still folded open to the signature page.

And next to Scout's messy scrawl, where Sniper's signature was meant to be, was a blank space.

EMOTIONAL DAMAGE! It may just be because I am drinking wine rn, but I am tearing up, anyone else? Review for the last chapter my beauties!