Forward on.

Warnings: This is shounen-ai, yaoi, slash, gay relationships, Sirius/Remus and Harry/Tom

Notes: (X) is pov change and or time jump

Reminder: I don't own harry potter

Notes 2: Sirius has been playing with the layout of number twelve, so any inaccuracies are his doing.

Chapter 5: Now what?

Harry climbed out of the bed and stopped at the door, placing his ear against it. With all the commotion that had just occurred, he wanted to be sure no one overheard him when he started on the necklace again. How dare it cause him so much pain when he'd been nothing but faithful to it? A necklace. He'd chosen its safety over his friendships, had almost lied to Sirius and Lupin for it. It owed him an explanation.

Harry caught movement from his side and turned. The shadow was standing across the room at the end of Ron's bed, once again watching him.

"You've got a lot of nerve," Harry said, glaring at his would-be protector. "I don't know what pissed you off, but you best drop it. You know what I've been through already this summer, don't make it worse."

The shadow narrowed its eyes at Harry.

The door opened, Harry's heart leaping into his mouth when he saw Ron and Hermione standing in the hall with looks of confusion on their face.

"Who are you talking to," Ron asked.

"No one," Harry lied.

"Harry… you were clearly talking to someone," Hermione said uneasily.

"So, I'm supposed to just trust you two with everything again," he asked, raising an eyebrow. Both of his friends winced at that.

"We came back to make sure you were all right," Ron said, anger creeping into his voice.

"Yeah, real nice of you to do that now," Harry spat. "Could have used it right after the Gytrash scratched me." He moved away from the door, glad to see that the shadow had vanished.

"It's not like we didn't want to tell you everything," Ron yelled. "We tried! After your attack, Dumbledore told us he placed an anti-mail charm on your house!"

Harry reeled at that. No one had mentioned that. Is that why Lupin hadn't sent him an owl, warning him they were coming to get him? Why he'd received no letters in the days following the attack? What in the hell was Dumbledore thinking? What if he'd needed help? Real help, not the idiots who'd been watching his house, who left to do who knows what the first chance they got.

He walked towards his bed, no longer sure how to deal with anything. Should he really trust Dumbledore anymore? And if that was the case, was the necklace safe? Sirius could be right that the headmaster wasn't to be trusted anymore.

"Okay," he said, taking a few breaths.

"So, you're not mad," Ron asked.

"I'm furious," Harry snapped, turning his gaze on his two friends. Both of them took a step back, Hermione grabbing onto Ron's arm. "Everyone has left me in the dark about everything! It's almost like Dumbledore wanted me to die!"

"You can't possibly think that," Hermione said, her voice shrill. "He just didn't want you to know anything!" Tears began streaking her face.

"Yeah? Why not," he asked. "Tell me, how fatal are Gytrash bites, Hermione?" Hermione answered his question with a strange choking noise. Ron refused to meet his eyes. "That's what I thought. Luckily, I was just scratched." He ran his hand through his hair. "So, is this my punishment for Cedric? There was no evidence that I got him killed. So Dumbledore is trying to ruin my life until I give up and kill myself? That it?"

"NO!" both of his friends shouted at once.

Their conviction surprised Harry.

"Well, it's not like I'd expect you two to tell me. You've already shown me you trust him, not me."

"Of course, we trust you, you're our friend," Ron said, quietly.

"Yeah? Hermione, maybe help Ron look up the definition of friend? I think he's forgotten," Harry seethed. He stormed out of the room, ignoring his friends' calls after him. How stupid did they think he was? He'd wanted to mend things between them, but the more he found out, the more they proved they were no longer his friends.

A flash of green got his attention.

Scowling, he removed the pendant from his shirt. To hell if anyone saw him with it.

'Dumbledore isn't trying to kill you.'

"Yeah? You sure he just didn't re charm you so you're on his side?"

Harry found himself shoved into the nearest wall; his breath shoved out of him. The shadow was standing in front of him, its arm pushed against his throat.

"I would never choose Dumbledore over you," it hissed at him. "Now calm yourself." It removed its arm, its eyes focused on him. Harry wanted to lunge at the shadow, to choke it, something to pay it back for the now two attacks and for taking Dumbledore's side. Just as he was about to, the shadow brought its hand to its throat and staggered backwards.

"H, hey." Harry's rage faded, dread filling him. The shadow hit the wall and slid to the floor. "What's wrong?!" He ran to the shadow and knelt beside it. It closed its eyes, and then it was gone. Harry's eyes shot open, and he grabbed the pendant. "You owe me an answer," he yelled at it, fighting back tears.

'Used too much energy.'

The necklace went completely black after that, all but the smallest hints of warmth fading from it.

Oh, no… The necklace had stopped working after the bright light it'd used to save Harry from his uncle. It had barely worked after it'd taken a shadow form when the Dementors and Gytrash had been around. This time it had actually moved in that form, and it had used its energy against him.

He clutched the pendant tightly in his hand. How was he supposed to keep it alive? He wasn't through yelling at it. He still had questions it had to answer. Despite everything he'd just endured, because of it, he didn't want it to go away. What he wanted was for things to go back to the way they'd been, before the shadow had lost its mind and tried killing him every few minutes. When he'd thought the necklace would do anything to keep him safe.

Who could he even ask for help? Sirius was mad at it, Lupin uneasy. He doubted his friends knew anything at all. Dumbledore seemed to know something, but the chance of getting an answer from him seemed nonexistent. The headmaster might even go as far as to give Harry the wrong answer if he was trying to punish him. He couldn't risk that.

He swallowed hard, bringing the pendant close to his lips.

"You have to work, just a little," he begged it. "Please?" He unclenched his fist, his stomach dropping. There was no light coming from the necklace, and what little warmth it had had seconds ago faded. "I killed it," he breathed. How could this happen? It'd promised not to leave him!

Why do I kill everyone around me?! He let out a frustrated scream, the portrait near the stairs coming to life. It began screaming insults, but Harry's mind couldn't process any of them. He hadn't even been able to keep a charmed necklace alive for over a week. Everything, everyone, nothing was safe around him. Anything that got near him died.

The necklace had been right. He should have stayed at the Dursleys. He could have slept the rest of his summer away and the necklace would be still be safe and functioning. Why hadn't he listened to it? All he'd had to do was tell Lupin no thanks when he showed up. He was angry with everyone here, so why had he gone with Lupin, anyway?

A shudder ran through Harry and he let out a sob. The necklace had protected him, had kept him sane, and he'd allowed it to die.

It wasn't even alive, he reminded himself, but it had been. To Harry, it had been. He brought the pendant to his lips and kissed it.

"I'm sorry." His head drooped; the pedant still pressed to his lips. Where had he gone wrong? If he was right, that shadow thing had been an extension of the necklace. The thing had been showing itself almost a week before Lupin had shown up. In fact, he'd been promising the necklace he'd keep it safe no matter what right before Lupin came into his house. They'd been on perfectly good terms. Why had it started lashing out at him once he got to number twelve? Had Dumbledore done something to it?

Shaking, he turned towards the stairs.

"YOU WORTHLESS INGRATE! YOU SHOULDN'T EVEN BE ALIVE! GO ON YOU BLOOD TRATIOR! KILL YOURESLF! THAT'S RIGHT, THROW YOURSELF DOWN THE STAIRS!"

Without thinking, Harry pulled his wand out from his pocket and shoved it through the portrait's mouth. The painted woman let out such a high-pitched scream. The other people on the floor started exiting their rooms. He ignored them, his blood boiling as he pulled his wand down. The canvas gave a satisfying ripping noise; the screams easing up as he did.

He yanked his wand back.

"Now shut up," he growled at the thing.

The portrait said nothing more. Harry turned to regard his audience. Fred and George both stared at Harry before they vanished back into their room. Ginny was looking at him from another room, her face full of both fear and awe. She placed one foot out the door, seemed to think better of it, and instead shut herself back inside the room.

Good, I don't want to be around any of them. He was angry and sad and didn't know what to do. No one was going to understand how isolated he felt with the necklace now gone. Everyone in number twelve had had someone else to rely on, to talk to. Harry had been alone all summer, and now he was alone again.

Slowly, he made his way back to the bedroom. He passed Ron and Hermione, who were sitting on the bed closest to the door, and went to his own.

"… You okay…," Ron asked.

Harry ignored him. He knew he was still crying and that his face was bright red. There was no way they'd missed that. He climbed onto the bed, his back to them. What was he supposed to do now? Who would he talk to? Who was he supposed to share his darker thoughts with? Ron and Hemione would never understand him, not the way the necklace had.

At least he could keep it with him. A relic, a reminder that no one should get near him. All he was good for was causing pain and eventual death. He closed his eyes, wishing he had a time tuner, but he doubted the adults would let him have one for such a "trivial" object. They would all probably think it better the necklace had broken, anyway. He was too dependent on it. He understood that. It wasn't like anyone was going to be able to fix that, though. No one would ever be able to replace the friend he'd made with the spirit dwelling inside the necklace.

(X)

"Nnn." Harry could just hear something, a noise he thought, trying to pull him from his sleep. He didn't want to wake up. There was no point. If Dumbledore wanted him in the dark, fine. He could remain unaware of everything. He was a trained pro at staying in a single room for days on end with limited amounts of food and water. It had been so much easier with the necklace, but he'd failed it so…

A hand brushed his bangs, weight shifting on his mattress.

Probably Sirius.

"Go away," he mumbled, trying to bury himself deeper into his blanket. He didn't want to be rude to Sirius, but he wasn't in the mood. They could try to get him out of bed once school started.

A finger traced his scar.

Harry's eyes snapped open, his green meeting red the shadow's red. His heart nearly burst. He sat up without thinking; the shadow losing its balance and falling on top of him.

"I, I can feel you," he said, his eyes darting to Ron's sleeping figure across the room. Lucky for him, his idiot friend was snoring too loudly to hear him. He turned his attention back to the shadow that was making no efforts to move. "Are you okay," he asked in a rushed whisper. He could just make the shadow out with the single lit candle in the room. Besides its eyes, there was no distinction in its body beyond shape, and yet he found himself checking it for any signs of injury. "I was sure you'd…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

The shadow watched him, still without moving.

"I don't know how to help," Harry said, frowning. "If there's anything I can do… anything at all…" He gripped the shadow's hand. "Whatever you need. Please, you promised not to leave me."

The shadow tilted its head at that. With great effort, it brought one of its hands up and touched Harry's cheek.

A searing pain that started in Harry's head rippled throughout the rest of his body. He was sure he was screaming, and then he wasn't.

(X)

"You done being a git?" Harry felt a rough shove to his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, he saw Ron standing beside his bed, blurry as ever, and yet he could still make out the unfriendly look on his face. "Mum wants us downstairs for breakfast so we can start cleaning."

"Okay…" Harry yawned and pushed himself up to get out of bed and fell right back down onto the mattress. His entire body felt drained, every muscle protesting, like he'd spent the day before doing all the chores in the Dursley's backyard. Had the attack the day before strained his body that much? Not the most surprising thing. How many convulsions had he had? Then there was the headache. Why was he getting so many of them all of a sudden? He'd had a terrible one after the Dementor attacks and then yesterday after the shadow had spoken to him. Why would the shadow of all things make his head hurt?

"You okay?"

"Yeah… fine." He gave a small shake of his head, his world spinning, and closed his eyes. His head dropped back down onto the pillow as everything continued to spin. I feel like shite. He waited for all the dark feelings and anger to rush him now that his mind was awake, but surprisingly none of it came. He'd been sure he'd been grieving for weeks, maybe months last night, but here he was, calm. Why don't I feel sad anymore? What kind of person was he if he couldn't even grieve over a dead friend for less than a day? He pushed the idea away and tried to gather some energy before forcing himself to sit up.

"You look pale," Ron said, his voice quiet. "Are you going to puke again?"

Really? That's what Ron was scared of? Out of all the things that had occurred yesterday, he feared Harry puking his guts out again? And people thought he was crazy.

"Just tired."

"Maybe you should stay in bed," Ron said uneasily.

The idea sounded pleasant enough, perhaps the best idea Ron had ever suggested. Staying locked away in the room meant a peaceful day not having to talk to anyone or trying to keep his temper under control. It also possibly meant causing his godfather unnecessary worry. Besides, Harry couldn't deny being a little curious about Sirius and Lupin's relationship.

"I'll be fine," he said, more to convince himself than Ron. He shoved the blanket off, and by sheer determination, climbed off the bed. When he didn't fall back onto the bed or collapse, he dared a step towards his trunk. Another. Kneeling, he opened the trunk and pulled out a clean t-shirt and jeans.

Changing proved more of a problem. He had to make sure Ron wasn't looking when he removed his shirt and then had to put the clean one on as fast as possible so his friend wouldn't see the necklace. He didn't know if Hermione had mentioned it after Lupin had made them leave, but he wasn't about to offer up any information either. Not when they'd been so kind as to leave him in the dark for the last month.

After he changed, the two of them left the room together. Harry wished Ron had left while he was changing, because he wanted to see if by some chance the necklace had regained some of its warmth or light, anything that meant it wasn't dead.

"Whoa," Ron said. The redhead had stopped at the end of the landing, looking at the wall. Harry glanced at what had his supposed friend so entranced. "You really wanted this thing to shut up. Wish I'd thought of doing this." He ran his hand over the canvas in awe.

I didn't… Yes, Harry had stabbed the portrait with his wand out of sheer rage, but only once and in a straight line from the woman's mouth down. The canvas before him was in shreds, hardly any of it left. What small pieces that remained looked burned, their curled black ends hanging limply from the wall.

"You're scary right now," Ron said, shaking his head. "But you'll probably get a medal for shutting her up. Mum and Sirius tried everything yesterday." He removed his hand from the portrait and turned to Harry. "I know you're mad at me, but can you do me a favor?"

"Huh?" Harry tore his gaze away from the portrait.

"When we go downstairs, don't mention Percy to anyone."

"Why not?" That seemed like an odd request.

"Turns out he was more of a git than we thought. I'll tell you after breakfast." He descended the stairs.

Harry grabbed the pendant the second Ron started down the steps and pulled it out. He thought just maybe the dark circle had the tiniest glow coming from it. There still wasn't any warmth from what he could tell. He brought the pendant to his lips and kissed it before he slipped the necklace back under his shirt. He went down the stairs fast before Ron could notice he'd stopped following him.

It was strange. He kept waiting, almost wished he'd feel the crippling grief he had the night before, but nothing. Maybe the necklace had had him under some sort of spell and now that it was broke, he was free. Even more confusing, some part of him thought the necklace was still okay. That it would recharge like it always did.

Or you're in complete denial. He wasn't sure which of the two was better.

Ron pushed the door to the kitchen open and jumped back, almost knocking into Harry.

"Whoa!"

Harry caught sight of what looked to be a giant platter of sausages go flying across the room before the door swinging towards them got in the way.

"YOU TWO," Mrs. Weasley screamed. Harry caught a glimpse of her just before the door stopped swinging. She was wearing one of her gladiator looks. "I WILL HAVE BOTH YOUR WANDS IF YOU DON'T STOP!"

"But mum, we're of age! You can't take our wands," one of the twins laughed.

"WATCH ME!"

"Maybe we should just stay out here," Ron muttered.

Harry felt a smile tugging at his lips. For the first time since he'd stepped into number twelve, things felt normal.

"Come on." He rushed past Ron into the kitchen, almost regretting it immediately as a knife flew in front of his face and sheathed itself into the wall. The room was in complete chaos. Fred and George were bickering with their mother, and with the rage radiating off Mrs. Weasley, Harry was sure their wands were going to get confiscated before breakfast was over. Sirius was sitting at the table looking rather miserable. He had one sausage from the flying platter in his hand, but hardly seemed to notice he'd picked it up. Mr. Weasley and Bill were also at the table. Mr. Weasley was using his wand to clean up what looked to be a massive spill of orange juice while Bill was holding up a stack of dripping papers.

There was a rush of flames behind Mrs. Weasley.

"THE BACON! OH! YOU TWO SIT DOWN," she roared. She turned back to the stove. Fred and George laughed as they made their way over to the table.

"This isn't funny," Mr. Weasley said.

"We were just trying to help," Fred said.

"Honest," George added.

"Spare me," Mr. Weasley said, with a sigh. "Bill, put those papers away before someone else decides to help your mother cook."

"Let me dry them off first," Bill said, glaring at the twins. He tapped the stack of papers with his wand, all of them drying. "Evanesco!" The papers vanished from his hand.

Harry wanted badly to see what was wrong with his godfather, but Sirius hardly looked to be in a talking mood. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd think someone had hexed his godfather with a body binding spell. In fact, no one in the room looked even mildly approachable.

Okay, you can do this. I don't need the necklace. Not for something like this, anyway. What good would it have done, anyway? He couldn't pull it out and ask it anything with all the other people in the room.

"Feeling any better," Hermione asked quietly.

Harry turned, Hermione taking an immediate step back.

"I… yeah. About yesterday, I'm sorry," he said, only half meaning it. If anyone could help him find out more about the necklace and get it recharged, it was Hermione. Even if it drove him mad, he needed her on his side.

A smile crossed Hermione's face, and her shoulders relaxed.

"We both knew you'd be angry," Hermione said. "We just weren't sure how we could make it up to you, because we tried to write Harry. I don't know how many letters Mrs. Weasley took from us. Even Fred and George tried. Dumbledore caught them at the last minute. He was furious."

"Yeah… well…" Her words calmed the fire burning in him a little. So, they had at least tried. Of course, they'd tried. They were his friends, even if he was mad at them right now. He'd just been so angry he hadn't even let them try to explain. "You know why Sirius looks so depressed?"

Hermione glanced towards Sirius and pulled Harry in the opposite direction.

"Dumbledore's not letting him leave number twelve," she whispered.

"What? Why not," Harry asked.

"Shh!" She looked around, seemed satisfied no one was paying them any attention, and went on. "Because he's still wanted by the Ministry and by you-know-who. After all that time running, you'd think he'd be happy to stay in one place for a while."

"That's not why he's unhappy," Harry said, understanding his godfather immediately. Sirius was angry he couldn't go out with Lupin and that he couldn't be of use to the Order. Or to someone.

"What do you mean?"

Harry wasn't sure if anyone else in number twelve knew about Sirius' and Lupin's relationship, but he wasn't about to be the one to tell everyone. And he most surely wasn't going to tell Hermione what he was sure was going through his godfather's head.

"Later," he said, using Ron's tactic from earlier. He left Hermione standing by the kitchen door and took a seat on Sirius's left side. "Morning."

"Morning," Sirius muttered until his eyes darted to Harry. "Sorry, Harry…"

"It's alright," Harry said. He knew how hard it was to not be able to do anything for someone you cared about. Cedric, his friends, the necklace, Sirius. Time and time again Harry had had no choice but to watch as the lives of the people he loved fell apart or ended, unable to do anything to help them. I'm so pathetic. If he'd tried harder, maybe the necklace would still be working.

"You don't look good," Sirius said. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "I didn't wake up once."

"You're probably just recovering from that," he said, motioning to Harry's shirt. He raised an eyebrow when Harry unintentionally glared at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Harry muttered. He'd known full well what Sirius thought about the necklace. It still hurt to hear the words.

"Going to keep more secrets from me," Sirius grunted.

Harry looked at his godfather. Had he really just asked that?

"None of you get it," Harry mumbled. "I explained everything to you yesterday."

"I don't like it."

"I know you don't," Harry said. "But it's my best friend."

"It's a magical object, it can't be your best friend," Sirius said.

"Then I don't have any friends," Harry blurted out.

An awkward silence fell between them after that. Sirius didn't seem to know how to answer, and Harry was too frustrated to try. He'd thought Sirius more than anyone would understand. They'd endured similar situations. Both of them had been imprisoned, though Sirius's stint in Azkaban had been far worse than anything Harry would ever endure at the Dursleys. They'd both spent long durations of time without any actual conversations or being around any friends. Hell, Harry had even had Dementors try to steal his soul. How could his godfather write off such a precious item that could save him from loneliness?

Breakfast was served, and conversations began filling the room. Harry muttered a thanks when someone passed him a food item, but that was it. When they were finished, Harry got up with his plate.

"Harry," Sirius called after him.

"What?"

"Look—"

"You of all people should understand," Harry said. He dropped his plate into the sink and sulked out of the room. Even if Sirius didn't, he was supposed to be on Harry's side. Part of him knew he wasn't being fair. Sirius only disliked the object because it had hurt him the night before, but that wasn't the norm.

He sat down on the bottom step, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to fetch him for cleaning duty. He blinked a few times, an idea occurring to him. The necklace was charmed. Charmed. He'd be returning to Hogwarts soon as long as he didn't get expelled. Professor Flitwick could take a look at the necklace. Surely his Charm's professor could fix it. He placed his hand under his shirt and held the pendant. There was still hope.

"Harry." The Gryffindor turned, not surprised to see Sirius coming towards him. He removed his hand from the pendant, Sirius sighing. "I do not understand your obsession with that thing." He sat down next to Harry on the steps. "It tried to kill you yesterday."

"I don't know why it did that either," Harry said. "This pedant was the only thing still talking to me after the Dementor attack. I wasn't receiving any letters, no visitors. It stopped my uncle from choking me. It snapped me out of the Dementor's trap," he said, repeating everything he'd mention the night before. "Dumbledore stopped all communication to me, but this pendant kept talking. My family doesn't speak to me. I'm basically a prisoner there."

Sirius drew a sharp intake of breath.

"So, when I thought everyone else had ditched me, this was all I had." He dropped his gaze to the floor. "But you can stop worrying. It stopped working last night."

"Why?"

"It said it'd used too much energy yesterday."

"Trying to kill you," Sirius pointed out.

"There has to be some explanation for what it did," Harry shouted. "But now I'll never find out, because it's broke!"

"What did it do before it broke, besides talk with you?"

"It answered any questions I had," Harry said, wiping tears from his face. "Anything. It couldn't predict the future or anything, but if I asked it how fast a dragon could fly, it could tell me. It lights up when it replies. The longer you ignore it, the brighter it gets. It used that to blind my uncle, so he'd let go of me."

"Let me see it."

Harry hesitated and realized there was no harm in handing it over. The necklace was already dead. He removed it and handed it to his godfather.

"I don't know what it did when the Dementor's showed up, but it snapped me out of my trance. If it wasn't for the necklace, I wouldn't even be here. Me or Dudley."

Sirius held the pendant up, turned it over.

"And it survived all that?"

"Well, after it did anything besides answer my questions, it would stop working for a while until it could recharge."

"I have no idea what kind of charm could do all that." He handed Harry the pendant back. "Maybe Remus has an idea."

"I thought you didn't like it."

"I don't, but we both shouldn't be miserable." He stood up and wiped some of the dust from his jeans. "Should really clean that," he muttered, heading back for the kitchen.

"Doesn't Lupin make you happy?"

Sirius stopped at that and turned back to Harry.

"Of course, he does," he said, eyeing Harry wearily.

"So why are you miserable?"

"You were still miserable when you had your pendant."

"I was not," Harry said, pouting slightly.

Sirius laughed.

"You wouldn't be fighting with Ron and Hermione if you hadn't been." He came back over to the steps, folded his arms on top of the hand railing and rested his head on them. "Harry, you were basically left in solitary confinement and for that, I'm sorry. If I had known how those Muggles treated, you I would have never let Dumbledore keep you there after your birthday."

"Thank you…" It seemed Harry wasn't alone in being withheld information.

"I've done my share of time in solitary. It's not fun. You start losing touch with reality. The brick closest to you can become your best friend, and I'm guessing that's what happened. That necklace was how you coped. It's a magical item, a dangerous one at that. Now that it's stopped working, you'll see that Ron and Hermione are more important than that thing."

Harry didn't think that was true, but he didn't say anything.

"I'll help you get it fixed. I'll prove to you now that you have human contact, that necklace will be just another magic item to poke at. Might be good to use on tests if it can answer fact questions," he said.

Harry gave a small shrug. Maybe his godfather was right. Hadn't he even told himself those very reasons when he was still at the Dursleys? He still wanted answers, and he wanted the pendant fixed, but maybe having it not work wasn't the end of the world he'd thought it was.

"Okay."

"Good. I think Molly has us cleaning the drawing room today," he said, making a face. "Won't lie, it's going to be bad."

"Doesn't that mean it'll be exciting?"

"If you consider inhaling enough dust to kill you before the mold and Merlin knows what else is in that room, exciting, sure."

"Well, if it's that dangerous, then getting rid of it will be a big help to the Order, right? We don't want any of the members to die inside the headquarters. And if the air is as dangerous as you say, maybe we can box it up and mail it to Voldemort."

Sirius let out a loud laugh at that.

"You are James' son," he said, straightening up. "Come on, before Molly thinks we're ditching cleaning duty."

(TBC)

After five or six rewrites, I'm done with this chapter for now. There are quite a few things that needed to be written out that were just minor inserts in the original, so now that I'm fleshing them out, the characters keep trying to take over. That's usually a good thing, but some of them just go crazy.