I NEED TO TALK

-x-

Three

-x-

Morning came, and with it came the staff of the Junior Gazette, in their usual dribs and drabs. Due to her late night at the office, Julie came in later than usual and Spike, muttering angrily to himself about David Thornley and devious, scheming females, arrived a full half hour earlier than normal – for once in their working lives they found themselves heading in through the office door together.

'Do me a favour, Julie,' he sighed to the blonde as he held the door open for her, 'explain your gender to me, would ya?'

'I was just about to ask you to do exactly the same thing,' muttered Julie.

'Another bad boyfriend?'

Julie shook her head. 'Strange men, last night. All wanting to see Colin.'

'Funny,' replied Spike with a raised eyebrow. 'I'm having trouble with a strange, mysterious man desperate to meet up with Lynda.'

Julie grinned. 'Must be some sort of Dork Convention we're not party to.'

'Well, there's definitely somethin' we're not being told…' he stalled in the middle of the newsroom, looking about himself. 'And where the Hell is she?'

The newsroom, already fairly full of young journalists, typing and scribbling and squabbling away, was notably lacking one Lynda Day.

'She's not in today.'

Both Spike and Julie snapped their heads down to see the speaker. Colin didn't look up, but kept frowning at an A4 book of tables and numbers.

'Whaddaya mean, "she's not in"?'

'She's off. She's out. She's not in.'

'She never told me that!'

'Or me,' exclaimed Julie, 'God! Now I have to do all her work, as well as mine…'

Colin shrugged. 'Well she told me. Do you mind? This is the Annual Report, it's as difficult as it is important.'

Spike bent himself down to Colin's level as Julie huffed away.

'Did she happen to mention our friend David Thornley at all while she was excusing herself?'

'She didn't say,' muttered Colin to the Ledger, 'There's nearly a Grand missing here, where the Hell did I put it…?'

'Forget it,' growled Spike, pushing himself back up. 'Oh, by the way, apparently you had some mysterious visitors last night. Might want to look in to that.'

Colin looked up, panic rising on his face. 'What? Who?'

'They didn't say,' replied Julie from the pile of paperwork on Lynda's desk. 'One was very angry about a set of hair tongs.'

Colin exhaled audibly, going back to his reports. 'Oh. Him. I'll make it up to him, or something…'

'You don't need to,' said Julie, 'the second guy saw to that. Just got out his chequebook and paid him back twice over. Didn't even say who he w…'

She was cut off by a clatter. Colin had stood up so suddenly that his chair had toppled over. The whole office turned to face him. The blood had drained entirely away from his face. He looked as though he were about to throw up, or faint.

'He was here last night?' he managed.

Julie nodded. 'What are you so worried about, Colin? You must be thinking of somebody else. This man was well turned out, generous… he seemed like a really nice guy.'

'Yes,' muttered Colin, 'He does.'

Julie shrugged. 'Well, he said he'd pop by and see you this morning, anyway, whoever he his.'

'This morning…?' His eyes like saucers, Colin backed away from the desk, stumbling on his fallen chair. 'This morning. I've… I've…' he turned and made a wobbly movement towards his office door. 'I've got to… I'll be in my office, I…'

'Well, maybe we can have a chat in there, Colin,' came a man's voice.

Julie turned and smiled at the man standing at the newsroom door. He nodded at her with the same impish grin he had worn the night before.

'Morning, Goldilocks. Hope you don't mind me letting myself in, the door said you were open.'

'Colin?' Called Julie to the young man who was now standing with one hand against his office door, his back still to the rest of the newsroom, completely frozen. 'Colin, that guy is here.'

The man laughed a little. 'Please. Call me Lenny. Me and Colin'll just step outside for a bit of a catch-up, and I'll be out of your hair. I understand you must all be very busy.'

'Colin…?' called Julie again.

Colin still didn't budge, still didn't turn.

Spike sighed, and sauntered over to him. 'Hey, Colin, you're friend is here.'

'…no…' The word was very faint, barely breathed. Spike only heard it when he put his hand on Colin's shoulder.

'…no… I can't…'

'Colin?' Spike frowned. Every muscle in Colin's body seemed to have tensed and locked. He felt as though, if he pushed him, he would just topple on his axis and fall, still rigidly stuck in the same position.

Colin took a few hard breaths before he managed to say something audible. 'I'm busy. You have to go.'

Lenny stayed at the entrance end of the newsroom. 'It took me a lot of trouble to find you, Colin. All I want is to talk.'

'You're not supposed to be here,' added Colin, louder. 'Just go away. Just… just leave me alone. Leave us all alone.'

'Would you at least look at me, Colin?'

'No. Go away.'

'Will you just look at me? I'd like to look into the face of this… this fine young man that my son's grown into.'

'Son…?' The whisper went around the office. Julie stared. Yes. You could see it. There, in the eyes, and in the mouth a little.

'Oh my God,' she muttered, 'Colin – he's your Dad!'

Colin turned to face him, miserably, his back pressed against his office door. The staff gazed curiously from one face to the other.

Spike leaned in to Colin. 'Hey. I thought your Dad was outta the picture.'

Colin, now that he could see his father, never wavered his gaze away from him. 'So did I,' he muttered. Louder, he addressed Lenny with familiar tones of trepidation mixed with an alien coldness. 'What do you want?'

'Colin…' tutted Julie.

'Just to talk, Colin. That's all.' Lenny smiled, sadly. 'It's been a long time. Let's go somewhere private, eh?'

'No!' Somehow, Colin pressed himself even harder into the door behind him.

'Fine,' sighed Lenny, 'so you're really happy with us washing our dirty linen in front of all your friends here? You want your friends to hear about you running away from home in the middle of the night, setting the Police on us? About how close Social Services came to taking you and Katie away from your poor Mum…?'

Another murmur went around the office. 'Jesus…'

'It wasn't like that,' attempted Colin.

'About how I'm only standing here right now because you've been on the phone trying to get your little sister to do the same thing, and scared your Mum into throwing me out again?'

'She's kicked you out?' Breathed Colin, 'Well… good. Why don't you just disappear again?'

'My marriage in ruins, Colin.' Lenny's tone was calm, but sad. 'My family – ruined. My own brothers won't talk to me any more. Your Nana, my own old Mum, last time I ever saw her, she did nothing but spit on me. Wasn't even allowed to go to her funeral, because of you. And you think that's good? That makes you happy?'

'You think it's me? You think this is my fault? Dad, the things that you…'

'I wasn't a great Dad, I'll hold my hands up to that right now.' Lenny physically held both hands up at shoulder height. Everybody was so busy watching him that they didn't see Colin flinch automatically. 'In fact, I was pretty crap at fatherhood, and I'm sorry. But I've paid for that, Colin. You saw to that. You can't say I haven't been punished enough.'

'So, what?' Colin's voice and hands were starting to shake uncontrollably. Watching him, Spike had no idea whether it was with anger, or terror, or humiliation. It was a reaction in Colin that was completely new to him. 'What… you just turn up with your rubber chequebook and buy me a couple of days from a problem I could have handled in the first place and I'm supposed to welcome you back with open arms?'

Lenny smiled levelly, although his fists clenched. 'Just… stop agitating. Let me get on with my life and you get on with yours. Please? I love your mother, I've missed her so much. And you. And little Katie.'

Colin's expression blackened. 'Stay away from her. Stay away from my family.'

'They're my family too, Colin.'

'Not any more.'

'My God, Colin.' Spike pulled at Colin's shoulder. It seemed to take Colin considerable effort to focus his eyes on the American. 'You know, most kids would be really happy to hear their Mom and Dad were making another go at it.'

Colin just shook his head, disorientated.

'My folks did it often enough for me to know. Hell, half the time I knew she'd be outta the door again within the week, but I never stood in the way.'

'It's not like th…'

'Look.' Spike lowered his voice, gently. 'I can tell you're mad at him. Sounds like you were mad at him as a kid, too. And that's OK. But why don'tcha hear him out? Let him take you to coffee or somethin'. Talk to him. Tell him why you're angry. It'll make it more bearable. Trust me. I should know.'

'You don't know Spike. You don't know a damn thing.' He was shaking again, his pupils so dilated that the whole of his eyes looked black. 'You think you understand but you… you had it easy.'

'Easy?' Spike took an angry step back from Colin. 'I spent my whole life playing Trans-Atlantic Ping Pong between an Ice Maiden and a man who drank his way to a heart attack at forty five and you think that's easy? You're the one with no idea, Buster, not me…'

'Colin,' said Lenny, evenly, 'you're causing a scene. I think our young American friend is right. Let's talk about this over a cup of tea somewhere.'

'No! I'm not… I'm not stepping out of this office with you. I've got nothing to say to you. Now, will you just leave?'

'I think Lenny's got a point, Colin,' added Julie. 'You're causing a big distraction and you're not exactly doing yourself any favours here this morning. I think this should be taken elsewhere.'

'I'm not taking it anywhere!' Colin backed himself up against the door again. 'I stay. He leaves. Right now.'

'Take it outside.'

'No!'

'Colin.' Julie crossed her arms. 'As Assistant Editor I'm going have to…'

'And as Financial Director I don't have to listen to a single damn word you say!'

Julie narrowed her eyes. He'd never dared pulling rank on her before, and he damn well wasn't going to start trying now. 'While Lynda isn't here, I have authority over this newsroom, and you know that. As for your position, I've seen your contract. I believe in the Job Description box Lynda just wrote "Colin".'

'And yours still says "Graphics Senior".' Colin was spitting, pressed up against the door like a cornered animal. 'Only when you came back she added "Jumped-Up" to the start of it. So… so just call the Police, or something. Anything to make Him go. Just get Him out of here.'

'The Police, again?' sighed Lenny, sadly.

Colin focused on his father again, bewildered by his own fear and fury. 'Just fuck off!'

A strange sound went up in the office, part amused gasp, part disappointed sigh. In spite of the swear box, Colin was the only one of the senior staff who they'd yet to hear such language from since Kenny had left.

'I'm sorry,' muttered Lenny. 'I think I must have… a bad effect on him or something.'

'I'm sorry too,' tutted Julie. 'Sometimes I wonder if he understands reason at all.'

'Tell me about it,' shrugged Lenny, 'well, it was worth a try at least. I'll let myself out.'

Colin waited a good minute after the door swung shut after his father before he looked up at all. Only a couple of journalists had gone back to their work. The rest were all still staring at him, with expressions ranging from mild surprise to outraged disapproval.

Tiddler was the first one to speak. 'You owe the swear box £3.60. 30p for each "Damn" and the rest for… you know…'

'He's your Dad, Colin,' interrupted Spike. 'Your Dad's your Dad, no matter what. Do you have any idea how much I'd give to be able to straighten things out with my Dad?'

'He didn't want to straighten a thing,' whispered Colin. 'He didn't want to talk. I remember that look… I don't want to… I don't want to…' He took a deep breath and held it, paling further.

'You're not making a lick of sense,' sighed Spike, 'and you look terrible. Julie, I reckon he should go home.'

'Don't ask me,' seethed Julie from her desk, 'I'm only a Jumped-Up Graphics Girl.'

'Don't want to…'

'Colin, go home.'

'Don't want to…'

'Where are your things? In your office?' Spike put a hand on the office door. 'Come on, I'll get you in a cab.'

Colin snapped back into the real world, batting Spike's hand away. 'I'm going.' He opened his office door a jar and slid himself through, still watching the newsroom suspiciously before closing it hard behind him.

Spike shook his head, perching on a nearby desk. 'Geez. I had no idea he was so angry at his Old Man. He never really mentioned him…'

'Same as Lynda never mentioned David Thornley,' added Frazz from his corner, 'only at least Colin's Dad is real.'

Spike gave his friend a sarcastic smile. 'Ya just had to bring Thornley into this, didn't you?'

There was the familiar sound of Colin's 'secret' back door opening and closing shut again. Still the staff in the newsroom chattered quietly amongst themselves.

'All right everyone,' announced Julie, 'cabaret's over. Back to work time.'

The young journalists carried on gossiping, oblivious.

'Everyone…?' tried Julie, again, 'everyone? Excuse me?'

Colin's office door opened again, suddenly. 'You heard the Jumped-Up Graphics Girl, hop to it.'

The entire news floor fell to a still, open mouthed silence at the young woman in the doorway. Lynda smiled, brightly. 'Surprise!'

'Lynda?' Spike blinked. 'Have you been in there all morning?'

'Yep.'

'Doing what?'

'Hiding,' she replied, striding towards the Darkroom, 'listening, fighting violent crime, the usual.'

'And that's what you were doing last night, I take it?'

Lynda picked up a camera and gauged its weight. 'In a way.' She pushed the camera into Frazz's hands. 'Frazz, you're with me. You too, Spike. Now. It might involve some running, I'm afraid.'

Spike grudgingly got to his feet. 'Where are we going?'

'You'll find out when we get there. We've got to go. Right now.' Lynda turned on her heels back into Colin's office. 'Back door,' she added.

Spike trailed after his girlfriend. 'And how's your good friend David Thornley, if you don't mind my asking?'

Lynda didn't turn back to face him. 'I've got a horrible feeling,' she said, 'you'll find that out when we get there too.'

-x-

Ohgodohgodohgodohgod… Don't want to… don't want to…

He held the briefcase tightly and walked, as steadily as he could with his head reeling away from him and his breaths going in and out too quickly, too sharply.

Left foot, right foot, Ohgodohgod, left foot ohgod right foot ohgod… where to, where to? Not home. Not home.

There were running footsteps, far away. He closed his eyes tightly for a second.

Not home.

And David Thornley opened them again. David Thornley, a cold, lost, bewildered little boy wandered the dark streets in his pyjamas because anywhere, anywhere was safer than his home. Because there was a gash on his forehead because he'd been asleep until he'd been pulled out of his bed by the ankles and he'd been kicked and he'd been thrown and he'd been kicked and he'd been thrown until he'd found himself at the bottom of the stairs and while his parents screamed in the kitchen he'd quietly got out and he had ran, hoping that he'd never have to go back to that place again, knowing that, eventually, he would, and there would be the tears and the apologies and the threats and the 'You mustn't tell' and the 'This stays between these four walls' and the 'They'll send me and your Mum to prison' and the 'They'll put you and little Katie into a Home' and the 'You walked into a door, Colin. Say it with me – "I walked into a door"'.

I walked into a dooradooradooradoor... I fell into the bin. David Thornley. I'm going to London. Origami Swans. Origami Swans. Lynda with a Y.'

That was right, recalled David, there had been a girl. She'd helped him. She could help. She would help.

Paper swans. In the paper. I read about it in her paper. No. Wait. That wasn't me… Read all about it. Paper swans. Paper Swans. She's helping me. She's helping now. So where is she? Ohgodohgodohgod don't cry… Lynda with a Y… where… where the Hell am I…?

He stopped, but the footsteps carried on, coming up close behind him. He had no time to turn. The body barrelled into him, pushing him hard against a wall. Very strong hands hauled him roughly into a narrow walkway beside a garage, pushed him into the shadowy dead-end and turned him around. He dropped the briefcase.

'Now you'll look at me,' snarled the man, 'now you'll listen to me without butting in with your silly little comments.' The man pulled him up by the tops of his arms so that his feet struggled to touch the ground and jolted him hard against the wall with every syllable. 'Now! You'll! See! How! Much! You've! Ruined! My! Life!'

The man released David's arms, but still stood in front of him, blocking his only escape. David looked up at the man – so big, so fierce, and David was so very, very small.

'Get up,' ordered the man. He grabbed him and pulled him up again. 'Get on your fucking feet like a man, will you? My God, I thought we could talk like grown ups, but you're still the bloody same, aren't you? Your friends all think you're an idiot, you know, but then you never could keep friends, could you? Still the same. Still the same stupid little boy who sent his own father to prison.'

First the fists. Don't cry, don't cry.

David flinched from the punch before the man even drew his arm back. Still, the force of it took him by surprise. His head had nowhere to go but the wall, and the roughness of the bricks ripped into the cheek that hadn't been punched.

'I mean,' continued the man, 'do you have any idea, any idea at all, how blokes who've been put away for hitting a kid get treated in there?'

David was hit in the face a second time.

'They hear the words "Child Abuse" and that's it. Do you know how many times you got me beaten in there for being a Nonce?'

David tried covering his face, but the man only punched him in the stomach instead. There was a cry, a young man's cry, and David doubled over on himself, curling on the ground.

Then the feet, once you're down. Don't cry, he mustn't see you cry.

'My own Mother!' The man kicked David at the top of his back. 'My wife! My little girl! I can't ever get my Mum back, but I deserve my wife and my daughter, you little bastard. I want them back!' David was kicked in the back again, just below his ribcage. Someone was screaming.

'You will let me have them back! You will leave us alone, and you and your stupid little court order can crawl away somewhere, because there's nothing you can do, Colin. I've found out where you work, and I can find out where you live, piece of piss.'

David was dragged up from the ground and pinned to the wall again, pinned by his hair this time. The man's face was swimming now, red and angry and crying.

'Look at you,' shouted the man, 'look at yourself, you can't defend yourself. No friends. Family won't be so keen to run to you now your Nan's gone. What have you got to keep yourself safe from me, eh? A piece of paper? Well, I'll tell you something, Colin, and you can remind yourself of this every time you see the mess I'm going to make of you in a mirror. Your little court order? Will not stop me. Does not mean a little thing.'

'It does, you know.'

It was a woman's voice. It came with a click and a burst of light.

With a Y. Y? Why not?

'With plenty of evidence that you're breaking it, it could mean an awful lot, Leonard.'

There were more people in there with him, people holding the man, picking up the briefcase. The woman opened the briefcase and showed him the microphone and tape player, still recording. 'For somebody who's had a tough time in prison, you're certainly in a hurry to go back there, aren't you?'

'You little…' began the man, before he composed himself again. 'That's Entrapment. It's illegal.'

'When did we ever force you, a convicted child batterer, to come to the Junior Gazette, a children's newspaper?' replied the woman, frostily, 'When did we ever make you follow the son you used to terrorise from the office, or drag him into an alley, or start beating him up? We just knew it was inevitable, so we prepared for it.'

'You just knew?' snorted the man, 'You just happened to have recording equipment on you that particular day?'

'We always have recording equipment, Mr Mathews, we're a Newspaper. But we were a little more prepared than you think, I'll admit. Colin had a message waiting for him when he got in last night that you'd had a big row with your estranged wife and she'd thrown you out, but not before she'd let slip about him working at the paper. And it was always the same pattern – once you'd done with his Mum, you'd go after him, so we knew you'd be in today.'

'And who's "We"?'

The young woman smiled sweetly at the man. 'Myself, and both of your children. It seems that little Katie picks up a lot more of what goes on these days than she used to. She's a clever girl, Leonard. You should be proud.'

'But I never laid a finger on Katie…'

'Doesn't matter,' replied the young woman, 'she loves her family. Something I don't think you really understand. She made the phone call, Colin thought of the tape recorder.'

The man stared at David. David cast his eyes to the ground.

'Volunteered to get another beating just to prove how dangerous you still are, just to keep you away from his mother and sister. Only you surprised him. I was getting the tape ready in his office when you turned up, and he couldn't leave without it, so he stood there and took a public humiliation off you, too.'

David closed his eyes.

'And you think he's weak?' continued the voice, 'you think he's a coward? He's brave. He's a Hell of a lot braver than I am. You can't intimidate that out of him, can't shoot it out of him, can't beat it out of him. More people than you have tried, believe me. He's stronger than you are, Leonard.' There was a click, and the tape stopped running. 'And you can quote me on that.'

Colin looked up. Frazz and Spike were holding his father back. His Dad had tears welling in his eyes. For some reason, so did Spike.

'Is that true, Colin?' his Dad asked. 'Going off alone with a hidden microphone, getting me taped as evidence against me, that was your idea? Colin, that's… that's devious.'

Colin wasn't sure if he was smiling or not, his face was so sore and swollen. 'I'm a Mathews,' he managed.

There was the sound of a siren on the street beyond. Lynda raised her eyebrows at Lenny. 'Sounds like your ride's here, Mr Mathews.'

-x-

Colin waited with his back against the dead-end as Policemen and women took his father and the camera and briefcase. He quietly declined a trip to make a statement at the station there and then. There were occasional flashes of the Police station and the hospital long ago, the gasps, the muttered curses, the sympathetic faces, having everything photographed, everything written down, but he pushed them back, and told the Police that he wanted a wash-up and a change of clothes before he did anything, so they took some more pictures of him where he was standing and let him be. He waited until the sirens faded away again and then there was only him, and Frazz, and Spike and Lynda with a Y.

Y? Why not? I'm going to sell Origami Swans.

'Jesus,' breathed Spike. 'I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have… you were right, Colin. I had no idea.'

But Colin wasn't there. David had found the tarmac again, had curled up completely. The man had gone. And now the block in his head that was telling him he mustn't cry, the man mustn't see him cry, had finally crumbled away. It hurt his stomach and back and face to cry, he could barely breathe, but he cried anyway, cried hard with a strange sound he didn't recognise. It sounded like it was a grown up crying.

'Oh Geez,' said a voice above him. 'Oh God, what do I do?'

'Colin? It's OK.' Someone took his head. 'It's OK. We got him. He's gone. He's not going to be able to bother you again, not with the evidence you got. And Katie won't let him in now, will she? Colin?'

No. No I'm not. I'm not. I'm not!

She laid her head on the ground next to him, so that she could see into his eyes. Lynda with a Y.

I'm not! Tell them – tell them!

'It's OK. Can you hear me?' She paused. 'David? It's going to be all right.'

'David?' echoed Frazz.

'David,' breathed Spike. The jigsaw slotted together. Not a real name, not a made-up person, of course it was an alias, of course it was! There had been clues right from the start. He should have seen. Hell, if he'd taken a second to look at the damned note, the Goddam handwriting instead of the name at the bottom. Hell, there were times when his parents were throwing the dining set at one another that he wished he could allocate all that crap to a different person. So that was David Thornley. He'd solved the stupid mystery. And Lynda had been right, it hadn't needed to be solved at all. There were more important things about David Thornley than just who he really was. Much more important.

Spike left Lynda with her old friend David, her old, desperate, frightened friend David Thornley and walked past an embarrassed Frazz into the bright, midday sunshine of the street. He walked back to the office alone, and remembered. And because he was wearing his sunglasses, nobody could tell that he was crying.

-x-

'Hello, you.'

Lynda turned quickly at the familiar voice. There he was! It had been less than a year, but he looked so much bigger now. Still not as tall as her, but less skinny, less ghost like. There was only the faintest line on his forehead. 'Dav…'

'Colin Mathews,' he grinned, shaking her warmly by the hand. She turned his hand slightly. The little circles were gone.

'Lynda Day,' she replied, 'with a Y.'

Colin nodded. 'We're in the same art class.'

'So's Kenny,' beamed Lynda. 'Want to sit with us?'

'Sure,' Colin replied. 'I've got loads of paper.'

'That's good.'

'Want to buy some?'

-x-

The End.

-x-

NOTES:

This was supposed to be a much shorter fic! I originally meant it to be a 'Two Parter', with the revelation of David Thornley's real personality as the Part One cut-off, but it sort-of spiralled. The idea that Colin's Dad could possibly have been violently abusive came from a discussion with some friends. I just thought that he was pretty quick to jump to the conclusion tat Cindy Watkins was being beaten by her father, and then knew a lot about abused kids telling the authorities. Plus, he barely ever mentions his father and, bless him, the poor lad's pretty screwed up – anything could have happened to him!

I wanted a lot of Colynda friendship in this – I wanted a mirror to Something Terrible in general, but I really love their mutual understandings anyway. She's blatantly lying about her own Dad in this fic, BTW!

I found Spike's role changing a lot in this story – I thought he'd react quite possessively to the note, but with his own issues with his parents, I felt his response to the changing faces of Lenny would also be particularly strong. The memories that are making him cry, whether it's of his own father, or things Colin had done or said, or Lynda's protection of him in the past that he suddenly understood, or just the last 24 hours, that's entirely down to you, dearest reader.

I enjoyed throwing a cameo in from poor, harassed Kenny, as well!

On Lenny – Well, my thanks go out to those who read my draft of the first half of this fic and made really helpful suggestions about his character. He was originally going to be the Drunk (I liked the Drunk, so I kept him in as a red herring!) but the general consensus was that he should be much more charming on the surface, a real sweet talker, a real Mathews, who could make Colin sound like the bad guy. And more importantly he makes Colin feel like the bad guy, so he starts lashing out. His entrance was deliberately Film Noir-ish, because he reminds me of Harry Lime.

Who knows what the meaning of the Origami Swans are. A symbol of childhood innocence and optimism, I suppose. Something for him to try to grasp hold of as he's slipping away into a fear-induced stupor.

And I blatantly know nothing about Police procedure for missing children, beaten children, upholding of restraining orders or treating domestic incidents in public places. I imagine they're a lot better than I made out. Apologies for any Scooby-Dooness in the ending, too!

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