Yeah, yeah, I know it has been, like, two weeks. Sorry – I've been a lazy slacker. But I've read your reviews over and over again and I think I'm psyched up enough to start writing my fifth chapter. I've already hit thirty reviews and seem to have a few really great people who are reviewing me with each chapter. You guys know who you are and I really appreciate it! I've been stalling and putting it off; honestly, I didn't know how I was going to approach this when I started. Let's just hope I come up with something decent. :p Lend me your strength…for the reunion. Bring it on.

Knock-Knock.

Who's there?

I-don't-own

I-don't-own who?

I don't own anybody, much less the characters from Elfen Lied.

…

…

Yeah, I know. But let's see you come up with a better one.

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She had waited for too long, she couldn't feel anything now. Her legs were rooted into the ground and held all the nerve endings of fallen, rotting logs. Her arms were frozen solid, cold and void of all movement like blocks of ice - red blocks of ice. Her neck couldn't even support her head anymore – there wasn't enough strength left to lift it up. And her eyelids were stuck open looking at the cracks in the sidewalk that had slowly filled with the drops of crimson that ran down her legs and seeped out of her torn, stained socks. She didn't see or recognize it anymore; her eyes were glazed over and unfocused. The only things that separated Lucy from the dead were the thoughts and images of the home she was too scared, and now too feeble, to enter.

Even her mind was slowing now, though. The previously raging river of thought had now slowed to the pace of a thick molasses. In fact, Lucy was sure that if she were able to move enough to lie down and close her eyes, her brain would turn off completely and she would never open them again. But at least all pain was gone from her now; she couldn't even feel her head throb. She stood stiffly, but bent like a gnarled tree, and in truth, she had more in common with one now than with any human being.

And she was still scared. Not of her very possible death, and not only of Kouta's reactions to her anymore. She now had a fear that would have made her tremble if she had been able to: she was frightened that she might never see him again because of her weakness and her cowardice. She certainly couldn't open the door now; her arms were as useless as partially cooked spaghetti. The most she could hope for now was for Kouta to see her dead body on his doorstep.

The creature in front of Lucy had obviously grown impatient; it seemed to realize that this pathetic girl wasn't going to move at all. It evidently decided to slide its huge sideways mouth open by itself, to eat this bloody morsel whole and fling it into the unknown pit of its gullet, whether she was ready or not.

Lucy heard the soft scraping of the screen very clearly; she heard every pebble displaced and leaf crushed as if they were magnified many times over. The noise took time to register in her mind, but when it did, her eyes snapped back into focus and she immediately began to panic.

What will I do? What will I say? What if it's Kouta? What if it isn't?

The monster's maw was opening with excruciating slowness; Lucy knew she had to raise her gaze and face it and what was beyond it, but she just couldn't find the strength. Hefting her head had suddenly become an impossible task, and she was disgusted with herself. Am I really that weak? How can I hope to face anything if I can't even find the strength to lift my head?

The slow grinding sound just kept going on and on - Lucy thought that surely, by now, the monster's jaw must be wider than the entire inn. It must have come unhinged, like a snake's. But if it did, why hadn't she noticed it before? She had passed through the gate many times…Did this place react differently to strangers? Surely this creature didn't recognize her anymore, covered in her coat of red; maybe it mistook her for an unwelcome stranger and was opening its mouth wide to bite her in two instead of letting her pass.

Lucy desperately wanted to cover her ears and block out the scraping growl of the fiendish door, it was the most overpowering sound she had ever witnessed; if she could feel pain it probably would've physically hurt. She had wanted to come back with all of her heart, she had disregarded everyone's desires and selfishly listened to only her own heart, just so she could come back here; but now she wanted to escape. She was terrified of the ogre's mouth and the forbidden garden he held behind his teeth. She was terrified of what might happen, and she was sure that whatever it was, it would be far too good for her. A strange mixture of fear and self-hatred swirled around, creating a desperate need to flee. She wanted to run, run as fast as possible away from this place. But her body seemed to be cut off entirely from her mind and her attempts to move didn't even produce a flinch.

Even when the door was open and the grinding stopped the noise continued to ring in her ears faintly, an itchy little fly, lingering. But it faded, slowly but surely, and left her alone with her wide-eyed fear and the sickening feeling that…a pair of eyes were resting on her slumped head.

Kouta didn't realize what he was seeing at first. He had been expecting a worn out saleswoman or maybe a discouraged girl scout, but instead he got a…when it hit him that this was actually a person he grew very alarmed. Cries to Yuka instructing her to call for help formed in his head but somehow got lost on the way to his mouth. Too many confused questions were created and they got in the way of reason, logic, and all the impulses to move or speak. I need to call the police, or the hospital! What the hell could have caused this? How is she still standing? Why did she come here? Who is she? Is this for real? Is this some kind of joke? Why isn't anybody else here? Shouldn't this kind of thing attract attention? And something really wasn't right… Why isn't she moving? Why isn't she saying anything?

It was definitely a person, or…a statue of a person, at least - it wasn't budging an inch in any direction or uttering a single word. All he could manage to do was gawk in silent shock at the bizarre sight in front of him, watching and listening for some sign that would help him understand the situation. Any normal man or woman that still had the strength to stand in this condition would be twitching, running; at the very least making some sort of noise. The only semi-reasonable explanation that Kouta was able to comprehend at that moment was that some crazed artist had erected his work in front of this old inn. So, for the moment, his startled and irrational mind accepted the notion.

He looked at it carefully, with an unsteady and confused eye. His assumptions had been correct; it was a woman and she was slumped over, gravity seemed to affect her more strongly than anyone else. Her arms dangled down, but they were stiff and didn't wave in the subtle way that everyone's did in the warm breeze while idle. Flies and other insects were buzzing around and the young man thought he knew why; the statue was covered completely in a foul-smelling, caked-on…paint? It was on everything, collected on her arms and legs, smeared on the back of her neck, almost like a second layer of skin. Her fingers were crusted over and had the texture and color of coral. Even her hair was matted down with the foul stuff; it hid her face completely from view, preventing Kouta from any kind of recognition. And the substance was glistening on top of her head, still wet.

She was a girl soaked in blood and she looked incredibly disturbing. Oozing gore and hovering flies: this symbol was the very essence of repulsiveness and she seemed designed to make stomachs churn and eyes turn away. But Kouta couldn't tear his from her; he was completely fascinated, but not only by the grotesque exterior he saw. Something inside him was producing thoughts that just didn't make sense, thoughts that should have been disregarded and forgotten but were considered instead. Anyone who had any measure of common sense would be getting away from this thing and calling somebody, or at the very least, wracking their brains to try and come up with a likely explanation. And Kouta prided himself with his common sense; he was actually the voice of reason in many situations. But instead of doing something reasonable, productive, or even anything that made sense, Kouta looked at this girl and imagined what she would look like with her red robe removed.

Something tells me her hair must have been gorgeous; otherwise it wouldn't be so ugly and matted now.

I wonder what her clothes looked like before…whatever happened…happened to her. They could've been any color – everything turned to some shade of red – and they really could have been any shape – they're all in tatters.

Her height…her thin body… She can't be much older than me. I bet we're about the same age.

What does her…face look like? Is it covered in blood as well? Or is it hidden because it's the only part of her that is still clean?

She was obviously meant to be seen as putrid but still held something…something underneath the coat of gore. Kouta had a strange desire to see her with all of it wiped away, he wanted to chip off her bloody exterior until he could see the hidden beauty that he was sure lay within. The possibility of this being a mere work of plaster or stone grew increasingly unlikely; no man alive could have created this. It was something that gave away a subtle and hidden glow that couldn't be portrayed in an object without life or soul. It was something few could ever hope to appreciate; most would turn away from her, because, after all, it was beyond any sensible person to look in too deep when faced with a bloody and hideous unknown. But it didn't feel unknown to Kouta; something about this 'statue' was hauntingly familiar but his detached mind couldn't remember; it really couldn't do anything but take in the features of this still woman. Looking back on it later, Kouta would laugh at his ironic stupidity – most of his thoughts up to that moment had been completely devoted to Nyuu, but when he finally saw her, his shocked brain didn't even consider the possibility.

Kouta was starting to tremble slightly; he was starting to think that this couldn't be a mere sculpture, but he couldn't come up with any reason why a hurt, silent, inhuman girl would be here. Neither could he make himself think of the best course of action with any kind of rationality; his mind wasn't working right. But he had dealt with things like this before, and he did what he always did when such a situation arose; he focused on one thing he needed answered. His hands continued shaking, but he managed to calm himself down and was able to focus on the one question he needed answered most.

Is alive?

I don't know. How can I find that out?

A pulse. Does she have a pulse?

I don't know. How can I find that out?

By checking.

There, that was rational. Satisfied that he had come up with something that made sense, Kouta nervously lifted two of his shaky fingers and moved to touch a bare patch of Lucy's slender, stained neck.

Still, the only things the diclonius could see were the cracks in the sidewalk filled and overflowing with her blood. The only thing she could hear, now that the monster had been silenced, was the whimpering of that annoying dog, which seemed very faint in comparison. The only thing she could smell was her own vile stench, and the only thing she could taste was the fluid that trickled from her split upper lip. These were the only things she had while the unknown appraised her. Lucy felt like she was on trial and this judge was deciding her sentence, her punishment for coming back. Every second was an eternity.

She didn't know who it was, she didn't know what expression they held, she didn't know what they would do. She couldn't lift her head to see, she couldn't run away to never find out. She was stuck, helpless, and couldn't feel anything in her lead body. Regretful, disgusting, pitiful, ashamed, petrified.

Suddenly, something new invaded her field of vision and she stiffened …or…remained stiffened in fear. Long, white, slightly bent; Lucy couldn't make out what it was at first because it was only partially shown. It came in at the corner of what she could see and she couldn't widen her field of vision or move it to get the invader all in frame. All she knew was that it was moving towards her. It was shaky and moved at a snail's pace; but it was still upon her before she could decide whether she was afraid of it or excited to see some sign at last.

Then it touched her. And she felt it. It was timid and could just barely be noticed but she actually felt it. It was the strangest sensation, to feel something other than pain again; to feel something hot and gentle pressed up on her exposed skin. There waswarmth in the touch and it seemed to run into Lucy, penetrating her cold shell and flowing through her, reaching out to every part of her body.

It's so cold…Kouta really hadn't expected her to do anything when he touched her, but he felt disappointed somehow when she remained perfectly still and when he felt no pulse at all. But she is soft…softer than any hunk of rock can be…

It's so warm…It flowed through Lucy's veins, a more than suitable replacement for blood, and wrapped her heart in its gentle light. The tired old thing had almost stopped beating, gripped cruelly in the icy hand of fear. But Lucy wasn't afraid anymore, she knew this touch and it brought her a great deal of reassurance to feel it again, more than enough to dash her worries. With the claw melted away, her heart slowly began to pulsate again. Still incredibly weak, yes, and it still had almost no blood left to pump, yes, but with the warmth as an ally, things began running again.

Wait! Kouta fancied he felt something - A weak heartbeat maybe? But no. Everything was still and cold, he must have imagined it.

Lucy's invigorated body threw the warmth into every dark corner to light it up and return feeling to it. Every sleeping muscle and tendon was shaken and stirred, screamed at to "Wake up!" but they had grown comfortable in their slumber and were very hard to revive.

I must have been wrong; nobody can go this long in-between heartbeats…but there it is again! Incredibly faint and slow, but definitely there – Kouta felt her pulse. She's alive! This girl is alive! This realization hit Kouta with the same barrages of problems and panic again. How is she standing? Is she conscious? I have to do something to help! But what do I do? He felt utterly useless and inadequate, he knew he should do something, but he was struck stupid again and couldn't bring himself to do anything but stand there. Involuntarily he replaced the two fingers on her neck with his entire hand, Kouta felt that her pulse might stop again if he let go.

Pain seeped back into every fiber of Lucy's body. The nerve endings woke up only to find they couldn't handle the warmth; they caught on fire and shrieked with all their might, but it was only a physical sting. Lucy could handle this with much more ease than the cold numbness she had before, the pain could be ignored in favor of the pleasant feelings that were rippling from her neck. Finally unfrozen, Lucy rolled her eyes lower, towards the wonderful thing that was giving her warmth, and saw the arm for what it was. The girl was in rapture. Lucy knew…just knew that this was the same boy who had allowed her chin on his naked shoulder, the same man that had held and kissed her. No other human had ever been able to give warmth like this with a simple touch, other men only tried to hurt and steal with their grimy hands. This is Kouta pressed against me. He's right here… She was content to merely stand forever like this. But Lucy had to look up, she had to make sure that this was him with her own eyes; her heart had lied to her too many times before. Her body was still incredibly taut and even the thought of moving her neck was enough to make her give a silent whimper, but she didn't hesitate; she had to see his face again.

The strain was unbearable and her body protested exceedingly. Silver needles shot down through her neck into her back and would not be ignored; they tore through her with the swiftness and strength of lightning. Lucy's head was back down before it had moved an inch. Lucy's attempt had only given her horrible agony, and that allowed her predominant fear to emerge again. But how will he look at me?

I can't worry about that! This may be my last chance to face him! Gritting her teeth, Lucy focused her gaze on the long arm that connected her to him. All I have to do is follow it up… She envisioned the warmth, the only strength she had, flowing through that arm into her neck. She imagined the place that the warmth originated and grew resolute. The heat surged through her as she began the shaky lifting of her head. Silver needles tore again, shooting out in all directions, but she just focused on her road of flesh.

His elbow…his shirt sleeve…his shoulder…her head was pulsing, her feet were pounding, her entire system was throbbing uncontrollably. His collarbone…his neck…None of it mattered in the least. She was pushing her body beyond what it could take, it had shut down and now she was starting it back up on sheer willpower. Everything in her tried to stop the movement, every part of her was at the very peak of excruciation. His chin…his mouth… his nose…her heart was going to burst but she kept going anyway because she had to see him, all of him. His eyes…his hair.

He was just as she remembered him, his wide eyes still held the sadness that she had created, his mouth was slightly open like it always was when he was surprised. His hair still held that sooty black color that stood out against the night sky just so. He was Kouta and for a moment, seeing his face and feeling his warmth, Lucy felt whole and satisfied.

All Kouta had to see were her eyes; red as the rest of her, and he knew. He let his jaw hang open and his breathing quicken. "N…Nyuh…Nyuu?"

Lucy wanted to say something, to explain herself and try and make him understand what was happening – he looked so lost and confused. But she couldn't. She had seen Kouta and her determination was gone, everything was catching up with her. The warmth was fading, the pain was exploding, and her vision was blurring. Lucy tried to hang on, but she had expended everything she had just lifting her head.

"K…Kou…" She couldn't even finish before her legs buckled and she toppled forward.

Kouta caught her as she fell and his mouth moved hurriedly, but she couldn't hear any of his words. She wasn't worried or frightened though, here in his arms. She just stared at his kind, compassionate…no; those still didn't do him justice. She just stared at Kouta's face until the darkness moved in. .

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Well…there you go; Lucy's back with Kouta! And no, she isn't dead so don't go flying off the handle and thinking that this is the end. Hardly the beginning.

Liked it? Review it and tell me so! Didn't like it? Well, if you don't like my story than why have you read all the way to chapter five?

And the Lord said, "Let there be shout-outs!" And it was so.

Katrina-chan: Tsk, tsk Perezosa Muchacha. Glad to see you are still reading my humble story, and I appreciate your kind comments. But laziness is no excuse! I expect to hear reviews from you with every chapter! Otherwise…I might get lazy(er). :p

Elfen Lied Addict: heh. Your twitching means that I'm doing my job right…thank you.

Warui-Usagi: Whoa! Watch it lass, I might get a swollen ego from all this praise! You really give your comments an excited, energetic feel and they always give me a boost of confidence: nothing perks me up (or motivates me) quite like a review from down under! So keep em' coming!

A still dedicated reviewer: Thanks for that, the whole emotions & memory bonding thing was something that I worried a little bit about; I had the idea in my head, that whenever they came close enough to feel each other, they would get a quick flow of the other's memories and feelings, so fast that the brain couldn't register it. But when the diclonius is weak, the stuff comes in slow enough to actually be felt. I worried that maybe I didn't go into enough detail with that…but your review has put me at ease.

RyoTD: Patience is a virtue. :)

ZionCross: Hmm…I wasn't actually considering making Nana and Lucy real enemies, but now that you say it, it sounds like a good idea…(Just kidding) You really care about Nana, don't you? That seems to be the focus of a lot of your feedback, you've done a Nana one-shot, and you've also grown fond of that fic "My Mission" by Fantasia Spirit. Well, I am a pretty big Nana fan as well (like Lucy/Nyuu better, but I certainly care about the naive one) so I won't do anything too bad to her ya' Nana-lover, don't worry. And thank you for the invite to join your C2 group! It's my first one and it means a lot that you decided to include little ol' me your Fleeting Dreams.

Incandescent One: Well that just made my day; I'm the only Elfen Lied author that can be considered "decent"! Booyah! And you gave me an extra-wide smiley:D

DSJFX18: Well, yeah. But you didn't need to go and spell it out for everyone! At least I have it done now! …After about two weeks, yes, but I have it done and that's what counts.

First XeNOCiDE: In response to your e-mail question - The one space after the period thing was brought to America by the Spaniards in 1821 who believed that the Almighty God was on their side and that using more than one space after the period was a sin; it was a waste of space, a waste of paper, a waste of trees, and therefore, a waste of God's great creation. When they encountered the Native Americans, "savages" who used two spaces after the period, they tried to wipe the idea out. However, that particular custom of the natives managed to persevere until the pilgrims arrived in the Mayflower. The natives who became friends with the English settlers taught it to them at the first thanksgiving, and many accepted the idea. However, the Spanish influence made many others find the idea of more than one period absurd. The pilgrims disputed and disagreed on it so feverishly that a small civil war actually occurred (of course, "the man" wiped the history books clean of The Great Period-Space War of 1845). When a treaty was finally signed, it allowed both sides to do whatever the hell they felt like doing with the spaces after the period, within reason. And to this day, some men use one space, and some two, but everyone has forgotten why. Hope that cleared things up for you.