A/N: Yes! I'm finally back, you peoples, and here's the sixteenth chapter. Cheer, or whatever, unless you want to flame me, then I suggest you just get it over with, and I'd like to ask you why the heck did you wait until the sixteenth chapter to tell me how much I suck? Okay, with that finished… READ! And REVIEW! Okay! PLEASE? And I must stress this… CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. IF YOU HAVE ANY, GIVE IT TO ME. AND PLEASE DON'T MAKE IT ABOUT MY SENTENCE FRAGMENTS. I GET THAT TOO MUCH FROM MY ENGLISH TEACHER.

Chapter 16

Out There

He couldn't let her go.

There they both stood, before one pair of the cathedral's arched doors, staring at the iron hinges that spread out across the aging timbers. They hadn't talked to one another since Lilo's awakening, barely exchanging looks, hardly even looking at one another as they made their way down. No words traded, no feelings expressed. Not that day. And yet, it all could be sensed, lingering about through the usually somber air. Quasimodo was undeniably anxious. He just couldn't let her go.

She was the first person, the first person ever, to look upon him and not shy away; the first person to ever regard him as something other than a monster that hid away in the concealing shadows of Notre Dame's bell tower. To her, he was a human being; she had even said so herself, and she had accepted him as someone that she could trust within minutes of their first meeting. If he let her out there…

"You're coming back, right, Lilo?" Quasimodo asked quietly, eyes still glued to the arched doors.

Lilo looked up at Quasimodo curiously from her spot beside him, cocking her head to the side in an inquiring manner.

"Of course I'll come back," she said after a moment, giving him a questioning look. "Why wouldn't I?"

Quasimodo was silent. He seemed to be thinking over an acceptable answer to the question at hand, his jaw moving side to side in a deliberating manner. His glance moved to fall on the little girl beside him and rested there for an awkward moment, but then returned to their original place. Lilo sighed, realizing that he wasn't going to reply.

"Is there something wrong, Quasimodo?" she asked, leaning over a bit in an attempt to see his face.

She sighed again. It was still there, that false and worrying smile. She sighed, shaking her head and quite forgetting her question, her brow furrowed as she turned to the floor. She stared at the black and white tile, still worried, still wondering. Why was Quasimodo acting so weird today?

He had woken her up early with a gentle shake, just a few minutes after dawn by her reckoning, and he had even then been wearing that smile. She had noticed it so easily, despite her groggy state, and had been immediately concerned. But, before she could inquire upon it, he had left her to herself and went to fetch her bag. After that it seemed too uncomfortable a position to be asking such questions. And now, he was wondering whether or not she would return to the bell tower, which was something she had already agreed, even promised, to do! She trusted him so easily; why was he having such problems with trusting her? There was something so upsetting about that!

"I promised I'd come back," she said suddenly, her voice dripping with irritation. "Why wouldn't I come back if I promised I would? It was a promise, Quasimodo! It was a promise!"

She shot him an inadvertently resentful glance, and then shifted the bag on her shoulder, her eyes returning to the floor. A silence followed, thick and awkward, both wondering the reasons and reactions of the other.

Finally Quasimodo spoke.

"You wouldn't understand," he said, his face turned downward.

"Nani says that all the time, and she's usually wrong," Lilo retorted, still frowning. Quasimodo sighed in exasperation, bringing a tired hand to his face.

"Lilo…"

"I mean it! Why are you acting so weird?" Lilo turned her face up to him, this time demanding an answer to the question just asked.

Quasimodo once again remained silent.

"Quasimodo!" Lilo exclaimed, her voice strained with frustration. "Why?"

"Because…" he started and stopped, letting the unfinished sentence hang in the air.

"Quasi!" Lilo repeated, her voice strained.

"Because you might not come back!" he blurted out, his voice tired and frustrated. Lilo blinked quietly, unsure of his meaning. "If you leave," Quasimodo began again, his voice slow and shaking, "You might…" He swallowed a saddened stutter. "If you don't come back I might…"

He stopped short, turning away. Lilo saw his hump quiver from suppressed sobs, and the guilt slowly began to seep into her mind, her conscience yet again nagging in disappointment and shaking a strict finger.

"Why wouldn't I come back?" she asked her tone more gentle than it was just seconds before.

Quasimodo spoke without turning back.

"Why would you come back?" he questioned her, his voice seeming somewhat spiteful. "You're going to be out there. How does my bell tower stand up against that?"

Lilo blinked in surprise, and her eyes fell to the alternating tile of the floor. Oh, she thought, feeling both hurt and hurtful. Now she understood. Why couldn't she see it earlier?

Through out the few years of his life, Quasimodo had dreamt of being "out there" as he put it, where people that would be called normal without a hesitant thought (well… most of them), and who went through their lives surrounded by others of their kind. He had never felt the warmth of the writhing masses passing him, never heard the murmur of their talk excepting the somber prayers that they whispered, kneeling before the altar. He had only watched, examined, imagined. And now, Lilo, who had remained with him for almost three days, experiencing the loneliness and alienation that he had been forced to feel his whole life, was going to live that unforgotten dream. The event, ever it happened to him, would be the experience of a lifetime, and he would treasure it forever. But, she was a little girl, Lilo supposed he thought. He would be happy enough for one day, but what if she wouldn't be able to control herself?

"I'm sorry," Lilo said, breaking from her thought and scratching the back of her head ashamedly. "I didn't mean to."

This was all Lilo could think to say. I mean, what could she tell him that would comfort him? She had already promised beforehand (and repeated this promise several times over) that she would return, and even then, Quasimodo was not as trustful as she would've liked him to be. She sighed, scratching her head. What could she do to guarantee the keeping of her promise…?

Suddenly, Lilo got an idea, and quickly began to undo her bag.

Quasimodo remained to the side, doing his best to stop the tears that had not yet fallen but continued to well up in his eyes. He felt loneliness already, even before little Lilo had left. He hated that feeling. He hated it with his being, but felt it and would perhaps feel it for the rest of his life. There was something depressing about that thought.

After a moment or so, Quasimodo felt something being continually pressed against his shoulder. Taking a confused turn, he saw Lilo, smiling up at him, extending Scrump forward as if beckoning him to take her.

"What?" Quasimodo asked, bewildered, his eyes shifting back and forth between Lilo and her green doll, wondering what it was he was supposed to do.

"Take her," Lilo replied, holding Scrump closer to Quasimodo's face. The hunchback's brow furrowed; he was obviously confused.

"Why?" he asked, extending a hesitant hand to take the doll. "I don't understand…"

"She's my collateral!" Lilo told him, proud that she knew the word. "I promised I would come back, right?"

"Right," Quasimodo agreed, nodding.

"And you're afraid I might not, right?" Lilo said, attempting a teasing tone.

"Right," echoed the hunchback, feeling a bit disheartened.

"So, if I don't keep my promise and never come back," Lilo continued, noticing Quasimodo's obviously saddened expression at the mentioned situation, "you get to keep her. Oh, and here!" Lilo dug into her bag again and brought out the thin, ragged piece that was Scrump's arm. "You get her arm, too."

"Lilo…" Quasimodo said, wondering whether to take this all seriously. Collateral? Where was this girl getting all this stuff?

"I mean it, Quasi," she said. "I saw some people talking about it once. And anyway, you know I would never leave Scrump behind. So there's my promise." And, as if to seal the deal, she crossed her arms and let out a satisfied grunt.

Quasimodo was silent for a second, his sight shifting back and forth from Scrump to the little girl, absolutely bewildered. Collateral… he wasn't entirely sure what that word meant, having never heard it before, but Lilo sounded so serious about it! There was a long moment of deliberation, in which the two of them maintained a long stare, awaiting an answer. Finally, Quasimodo released a sigh, gave her a little smile, and accepted her promise.

"Thanks," she said, giving him a long embrace, and then heading to the doors.

Quasimodo watched her as she opened the door, marveling at the light that streamed in through the widening crack, his eyes following her as she paused for a moment, then made her way out into the streets of Paris. His heart was beating fast, a final bit of anxiety lingering still as he watched her look back at him in a silent and final goodbye and closing the wooden door. He looked down at Scrump and her detached arm and released a soft sigh. He hoped with all his heart that she would come back.

"Wow," Lilo muttered quietly, scanning over the unfamiliar area that she had just stepped into. It was a dirty place, much unlike her island of Kauai, the air smoke-filled and pungent with a near indiscernible array of things. She stepped into the light, down unto the bumpy stones that paved the large square, wandering uneasily, not yet sure of her destination.

She stared up at the teetering buildings that lined the square, at their half-timbers and worn facades, their shuttered windows and angled roofs. They were silhouetted in early morning's faint sky, where winter's clouds glided across its pale surface. The houses looked near ready to fall, not sturdy like they were where she lived.

She had never expected Quasimodo's world to be so strange. Of course, his world was Earth, which meant his world was the same as hers, if one wanted to be technical. But, it was different, ancient, unclean. Hawaii seemed sterile compared to Paris. But then again, she had always heard that the French were weird. Now, she was pretty sure that this was right, from what she could tell. Which probably meant that she was weird to them, thus explaining the withering stares that those people had given her during her first wanderings about the church.

Lilo was drawn from her musings at the sounds of a horse's hooves as he made his way into the square, clip-clopping over the cobbles. She turned for a moment, curious, and saw, with a shock of cold fear, what seemed a metal carriage, a box of rivets and iron, as it went to stop before the towering edifice of Notre Dame. She had never before seen the carriage, at least, there wasn't a time when it had before taken her attention, but it sent her such a strange feeling, a cold uncertainty, that made her want to run away as quickly as she possibly could.

So, she did. She turned about, rushing to the long shadows cast by the houses. She was shivering, cold in the shade, leaning against a house's corner as she watched the door while it was opened by one of a pair of guards that had been following. And, as expected, out stepped that tall and angular man, his black hat topping his head, one wrinkled hand clutching the handle of a wicker basket.

"Frollo," she whispered, a feeling of mixed fear and contempt flooding into her thoughts. That man, that horrible man…

Frollo seemed for a moment to be absorbing the thoughts and intentions of those that surrounded him, weighing their worth, their importance to him, in that heavily clouded mind. There was no other cause that one could think of that would make him stand their so stiffly after stepping out. Both guards flanked him, tapping the butts of their long-shafted spears against the square's stones, patiently waiting for their judge to begin. Then, as if compelled by the single bitter thought that Lilo projected, his head made a slow turn toward the cold shadows, his wide piercing eyes resting heavily on the hidden girl. She cringed for a second, frightened. Did he see her?

The stare lasted for several, crawling seconds, then the judge, smirking, turned, doffed his hat, and climbed the steps to Notre Dame's doors, gesturing the guards to follow. They were probably going to search Quasimodo's tower, Lilo reckoned, rubbing her shoulder. Shaking off the feeling of doubt as much as she could, she sent a horrible look at the closing portal, and released a loud raspberry.

"Horribly, ugly old gnome!" she exclaimed once the door was completely shut. "I hope you get bit by a rat while looking for me! An ugly, rabid old rat!"

She stomped out of the shadows indignantly and made her way to the far side of the square, angry, but undeniably shaken.

"Are you ready, dear boy?" Frollo asked, looking down the end of his hooked nose at the hunchback, who sat, face blank, at his table near the window. The two soldiers that he had ordered in with him stood at the wayside, frowning in their uniform manner, their spears gone, by order of the archdeacon.

Quasimodo gave a half-hearted nod, his gaze directed at the ancient floorboards. Frollo sent him a disdainful glare, then motioned for the soldiers to begin. The two jerked their heads in reply and made their way into the shadows, searching.

"I warn you, boy," Frollo continued, watching as one soldier peeked about some beams, "if either of my men find any sign of that gypsy both of you will have to suffer the consequences."

"I understand, master," Quasimodo answered, his reply mechanical and uncaring. Frollo frowned. The boy seemed almost unaffected by the whole search, as if there was absolutely nothing that attached him to it . The judge watched as both soldiers spent their time poking through small holes, carefully lifting away sheets and bending down to look beneath benches and tables. He shook his head. The whole idea of this exercise was to put fear into the hunchback's mind, to show him that he would not, should not, do it ever again. The pair's "dainty-ing" around everything would not be effective.

Frollo looked around the room, drumming his fingers together in thought. The first strike needed to be something important to the boy, something that meant more to him than anything else in the room. His eyes scanned over the village that Quasimodo had crafted from youth to the present. A likely candidate, he mulled in his head, but perhaps not at the moment. The prop might serve a better use in a later escapade, if ever he should show anymore signs of insubordination.

Frollo's search lasted for only a moment afterward, when a sparkle of colored light shone for a moment into his eye. What it was, he hadn't the slightest in the beginning, until he turned, and saw Quasimodo up from his perch on the stool, reaching for a lantern that he hadn't yet turned off. It was set on one of the wooden uprights that framed the window, and it shone brightly still, its light falling upon shards of broken glass that now hung from the ceiling. Frollo started for a moment, curious to what the fixture was. He had never before noticed it, and was surprised to how his attention hadn't been fixed on it before.

"What is that?" Frollo asked after a moment, sending one violet piece into a swinging arc with a single touch.

Quasimodo turned, seeing his master playing with his project.

"It's a glass mobile, sir," he answered, his voice slow, as if wondering what the man's intentions were.

"Is it new?" he asked. "I've never seen it before. You must've made it yesterday, didn't you?"

"Yes, master," Quasimodo answered. "I did."

"All by yourself? That must have been quite a lot of work, Quasimodo," Frollo said.

Quasimodo started for a second, but then strove to regain his bearings.

"Yes… m-master, I did."

Frollo let out a bitter, disbelieving laugh, and smirked at Quasimodo in a cold, knowing way. The teenager gulped uneasily, raking a large hand through his stiff red hair.

"Guards," Frollo said, snapping his fingers and gesturing them to the spot. Both made their way forth from their search, and Frollo's face became sadistic. He pointed to the largest fixture, to the left of the one hanging down from the village. "Destroy it."

Lilo was now wandering along the streets of Paris, long bored of remaining in the square before Notre Dame. She had promised to come back, before too much time had passed, sure that she would be able to navigate through the many streets that veined through the city. She wanted to learn more, to rove along absorbing the things around her. If she had her camera, she would take a picture or two, but, as if in stupidity, she had forgotten it somewhere.

The sun was making its way up further into the sky when Lilo began to pass through what seemed to be a market square, where stalls and stores made up most of what she walked by. There were baker men and fishermen, tailors and cobblers, a whole plethora of familiar ideas changed. She lingered here for a long moment, then made her way to the edge of the plaza, lingering in the shade of one canopy set near a cart of fruits and vegetables. She got a strange and untrusting look from the vendor, a large man with greasy brown hair, who seemed to expect her to steal something. But, after she had remained without mischief, brushing a hand through her hair and resting, he seemed to allow her an uneasy trust, and continued to sell his wares.

From one street, a young woman came, brown-haired, garbed in a dress that was colored blue, a color that seemed highly unusual in this place. Her brown hair was tied into a ponytail, her face hidden in the pages of a thick book. Lilo watched her curiously, cocking her head to the side. The lady seemed an anachronism to this era. No woman that she had seen so far in Paris looked as if they knew how to read.

The woman pulled the book away from her face, closing it neatly and placing it in a basket that she had hanging from one elbow. Her face was smooth, lovely, with two large brown eyes and two red lips. She leaned over the vendor's cart, examining the merchandise, then eventually, pointed to two apples, which the man handed her graciously. She thanked him, handed him some currency then placed the fruit in her basket, both having little space, considering the literature. The man said a simple "your welcome" then turned for a moment and entered a building behind him, for reasons unknown.

The young woman went back the way she came, as if the apples were her only reason for going down that direction, pulling the large book from the basket on her elbow. But, in doing this, an apple tumbled down from her basket, ending up on the cobbles. Lilo, who had gotten back to herself for a moment to examine the trinket that she had discovered in Quasimodo's tower, noticed the apple on the ground near the cart and saw the lady walking away. She watched for a moment, wondering if the woman had noticed, but then got up from her spot and picked up the fruit.

Lilo looked at it for a moment, realizing how hungry she was. She hadn't quite eaten anything that day. Quasimodo had provided her with some food when she was with him, but she hadn't the time to eat breakfast yet. She looked at it with a hungered look for a moment, shook her head because stealing was bad (completely ignoring the fact that the medallion that she had in her other fist was stolen in the first place), and wiped the apple against her shirt to shine it.

"Hey, lady, you-"

Before Lilo had a chance to run forth, or even to finish her sentence, she felt a sudden crash against the base of her skull, and she fell forward, unconscious even before she hit the ground.

A/N: Yeah, yeah, it took a long time. But I did it, right? Hey, it's here, right THERE! Okay, okay. Read and Review. HEY! I'll mention you in my story if you tell me who the lady in blue was! Give you a clue: She was in HoND, just not important. I know my writing wasn't that good this time around, but I just got back into writing, okay? Give me some slack. Read and Review, mes amis!

Fun fact #4… is it number four?

In the original plot of The Hawaiian and the Hunchback, Frollo wasn't even considered. Yeah, yeah, it was a horrible thing that I didn't include him, because there wouldn't be an antagonist. But then again, it was when Quasimodo was younger, and the main point of that was him learning first love. Which I changed because I realized how stupid that was. And I wasn't going to go back to the main house to see what was going on… which reminds me… next chapter, I have to put in something about whatever Nani's doing. I like writing for Jumba. It's just fun, for one reason or another. Oh well. Next time!