Despite the gorgeous weather, Cynthia found parking easily enough along the perimeter of the expansive park. In the near distance Alice took note of a playground filled with children, their parents milling about as their young kids tired themselves out.

She smiled at the sight but found herself thankful that she'd taken adequate precaution today. That morning she'd seen that they'd be going on this walk. She'd worn pants and long sleeves today, finishing off her look with a loose-fitting cardigan and a wide-brimmed hat.

It wouldn't look out of place unless anyone looked at her too closely. But Alice had seen a notable lack of vampires in her visions for the day, and knew that if she showed up for this walk, glittering and shining in the sun for all to see, people would stare. And then, they'd get to talking.

And in a small town like this, with it's vampires more densely populated (and isolated) on the fringe of town, Alice knew that drawing attention to herself wouldn't bode well.

Especially if they figured out who, exactly, she was.

But Cynthia didn't seem to mind, or perhaps she didn't care, if anybody saw them together. The idea that her sister wasn't ashamed of her, made her feel significantly better. Whether people around here were prejudiced or not suddenly mattered little to her; as long as her sister was proud to walk around by her side.

"We didn't have much of a yard," Cynthia explained as they walked along one of the paved paths. "No one in the neighborhood did. So we spent nearly all our time running around this place; the other neighborhood kids and I." She grinned and gestured back toward the playground they'd passed a few minutes prior. "I had my first kiss on those swings back there."

Alice smiled. "How old were you?"

"I was sixteen and his name was Teddy. Either he was an awful kisser, or I was. Because it was a mess."

"Oh no," she suppressed a laugh, bringing up a glittering hand to cover her smile. "What happened to him?"

"The last time I saw him, he fell off the stage at graduation. Knocked his two front teeth out! I heard from my friend Beth recently that they're still gone."

Not for the first, and certainly not for the last time, Alice found herself grateful that vampires were far sturdier than that. The story about Cynthia's old crush falling had Alice thinking back to Anna-Marie. Then, to her father.

Her phone sat heavy in her pocket. Early that morning, Alice had decided to transfer a few files from her laptop to her phone. Things that she wanted to show her sister.

Things she was scared to show her sister.

But she wanted to be honest. Cynthia had provided Alice with more information that she'd ever dreamed about having. And Alice's disappearance had left a huge hole in the girl's life. Perhaps if she could give her some closure, they'd both be able to more forward with their relationship.

And maybe Alice would be able to find out what truly had happened to her. Any possible discovery would mean that much more to her if it was something uncovered between her and her biological sister.

"How long after Mama died did Dad marry Anna-Marie?"

"Not long," Cynthia admitted, as if embarrassed by the information. "People mourn differently, and heal at different rates; I understand that. I've had so many people throughout my life ask me if that bothered me. I always say 'no', because I didn't care. I mean, I was young. The only things I cared about—the only things I really thought about—was missing Mama and you. If anything I was happy to have Anna-Marie around. She was fun. She kept me busy and kept my mind off of things."

"I'm glad you had her then," Alice nodded, staring down at her boots as they walked. "For as long as you did, at least."

"After she died, things were rough," Alice could tell that Cynthia was hesitant to admit it. "Dad was so distraught. Thankfully all of us neighborhood kids were pretty close, so I spent a lot of time at everyone's houses. Lots of sleepovers. Plenty of days away. I gave him space to mourn and he let me stay away from home for days and weeks at a time. It worked out well for the both of us."

Alice couldn't explain the instinctual, subconscious relief she felt wash over her with that information. Knowing that her sister had been gifted with a support system during her adolescence filled her with comfort.

"You said you thought I ran away?"

Cynthia inhaled deeply, and sighed upon exhaling. "It's what I was told at first. And then the story shifted into 'Mary-Alice disappeared, we don't know where she went' and then when I was older, I realized you had died. I don't remember if I was explicitly told that, but it was like a common fact in the family. Unspoken knowledge, almost."

"Did you ever talk about it with them? Dad and Anna-Marie."

"Goodness, no. They weren't too keen on talking about it. Always changing the subject. It wasn't until I got older than I realized that they probably just didn't know what happened. But," Cynthia glanced at her, "you said you have a death certificate. So, I'm… confused. More confused that I've ever been."

As they passed a bench, Alice turned toward it, beckoning for Cynthia to follow. Sitting down, Alice pulled her phone from her bag. "I think you deserve to know."

It didn't take her long to pull up the asylum forms on her phone, but even as she stared at them, it was difficult to hand the phone over. Swallowing, she forced her hands to surrender the device, and sat back, staring at the houses across the street as Cynthia read the paperwork.

"I know you were young," Alice only spoke up when she was sure Cynthia had both read and fully comprehended everything on the screen in front of her, "but do you remember any of that? Any… behaviors from me?"

Cynthia shook her head, her hand cupped over her mouth as her eyes stared down at the phone, shocked to her core. "No, not at all." Then, quieter, "I guess that's why Dad kept it to himself."

Alice nodded silently. She could imagine that the last person you would want to tell about the commitment of your eldest daughter was the younger, seven-year old one. It was understandable, but the fact that it had remained a family secret left Alice feeling misplaced. As if her removal from the family picture had been a solid, concrete thing. Something that she wasn't supposed to disturb.

Even now, as she sat hip-to-hip with her flesh and blood sister, on a bench in a park in the neighborhood Cynthia had grown up in, Alice felt as if she were trying to fit somewhere she didn't belong.

Cynthia reached over and grabbed her hand. And she held it tight.

Alice waited for the tears, but Cynthia held them back. "I just." She handed back the phone and they were quiet for another minute. "I don't understand. Maybe it's my childhood memories being fuzzy or," she waved a hand in the air, not finding the appropriate word, "but things always seemed so normal. You always seemed so normal. Not even normal; I distinctly remember you being really bright and kind. I don't remember anything like… that…" her voice trailed off, and Alice watched as her eyes lifted and focused on one of the houses across the street.

"What do you remember?"

Cynthia didn't reply. Instead, she stared ahead of herself. Alice took a moment and then followed her line of sight.

It was there that she saw him. He was older; much, much older. But the features of her father were unmistakable.

He was Josie's age, at least. Maybe older. Where his hair had been dark brown in old, worn photographs it was now a dark gray, white strands more prominent than brown. Despite it being nearly three in the afternoon, he wore a navy blue robe. Alice could see the light blue patterned sweat pants and black T-shirt underneath. He wasn't wearing any shoes.

Alice watched as he shuffled down his driveway and toward the pink-bagged newspaper that was lying on the ground. A cigarette hung loosely in his mouth and even as far away as she was, she could hear him groan as he leaned over to pick it up. The cigarette fell out of his mouth and he left it there, turning back around and shuffling back toward the house.

Alice saw a few different visions then. Cynthia wanted desperately for Alice to meet their father; Alice had known that the very first day she'd come to town, and Edward had confirmed it for her. But Alice's revelation had thrown a wrench in those plans.

She could only hope that she hadn't also thrown a wrench in their relationship. Or even in Cynthia's relationship with their father. Sure, she didn't know what had possessed him to sign her life away to a hospital for the insane, but she was sure it hadn't been unwarranted.

If Josie had taught her anything, as a stand-in for the first few decades of her second-life: no parent would do that to their child.

Not without a reason.

Alice watched her father retreat inside his house and found herself focusing hard. Visions came easily, but memories did not. No recognition. Nothing.

Cynthia eventually spoke up, her words quiet as she pulled her attention away from her old home. "I don't know."

Standing up, Cynthia forced a smile onto her face. "Come on," she nodded back toward the path, "I want to show you the rest of the neighborhood."

There was so much more she wanted to say. Questions she wanted to ask. Answers she wanted to get. But Alice knew that her best course of action would be to follow her sister, and pretend that she thought her forced positivity was real.

She would, and could, ask more tomorrow. Now, all there was left to do was salvage the day.

"I think she's serious when she says she doesn't remember what happened. But," Alice trailed off, "I think there's more to it."

She could almost picture Jasper's frown. "Did you tell her that your death date was the same as the admission date?"

"Even the hospital forms were enough to unsettle her. I didn't want to make it worse." Alice sighed. "I was really planning on a peaceful day, too."

"You said last night you were also planning on telling her all of that information. I don't think you can drop all of that on a person and not expect them to be shaken up."

"I'm well aware. I just thought maybe she'd be more excited about knowing. After all, she said she didn't know. And that she'd just wanted to know. But now that she knows, it's like," Alice paused, "It's as if she really didn't want to know, all along."

"Why do you think that is?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. But maybe you're right. It's a lot to take in. I'm sure tomorrow we can talk more and I can get a few more answers. Or if not, we can figure some stuff out together."

"I've been looking into the hospital," Jasper spoke, "on my own time, and with my own, rather limited, resources."

Alice straightened up in her desk chair at that, shuffling slightly so that her feet were planted beside her in the seat. "Tell me everything."

"It's still open, for starters. It goes by a different name, too: Gateview Hospital. Just north of Baltimore. Looks like its under new management but it's still a privately owned hospital. And it looks like the Baylor family still owns it."

"How did I get to a hospital way up in Maryland?"

"If your father knew that you'd be in this hospital for good—and we can assume that since he had death papers written up for you the same day—it's safe to assume he wanted you far enough away from where you lived so that saying you died would be more believable."

Alice nodded. "Can't quite say your daughter is dead or gone if your neighbor or an acquaintance works at the hospital." It made sense. But at the same time, it didn't.

"I found your admissions paperwork in the archives of the state's health department. We got lucky, too. There's usually a limit to how long they'll hold onto a patient's paperwork. Once a doctor retires, or once their practice is ended or, in Dr. Baylor's case, handed off to the next group of professionals, there's a period between ten and thirty years that can pass before the documents are destroyed. The hospital became Gateview in '86, and your documents were due to be wiped back in 2016."

"So either luck was on our side or someone wasn't doing their job."

"Probably both." Alice could hear him typing on a keyboard. "There's a chance we might be able to get a closer look at this hospital."

Alice froze. "You mean, in person?"

"It's one of the few privately-owned mental health facilities in the state that offers services to vampires," he commented, and she could still hear him typing. "We could go at some point this summer, under some fake pretense, and take a look around."

It was a tempting idea in theory, but the thought of actually going to the hospital she'd spent her last months as a human utterly terrified her.

With a startling realization, Alice knew that she would rather visit Maria's final resting place than the hospital she'd been locked away in.

It was a place entirely unknown to her. And for the first time since beginning the search for answers, Alice wasn't sure she wanted to know what had happened to her in those walls. Because while they'd eventually led her to her life of vampirism, there was something that had happened beforehand. Something entirely unknown to her, and everyone around her.

"I've also been looking into your mother's death," Jasper added, almost as an afterthought.

Alice saw what he was so delicately trying to word before he could say it out loud. "You think he killed her. My dad." Her words tasted sour on her tongue. It was a horrible thing to consider. But she hated how it was a valid theory.

"Or at the very least had a hand in her death."

Alice would be lying if she hadn't let that thought flicker across her mind throughout the day. "Cynthia said that we were close. My mom and I."

"She died six months before you were committed, and you said that he was already married to your step-mother by then."

Cynthia's excuse of 'people mourn differently' echoed through her mind. And slowly, things were starting to make more sense.

And the more things fell into place, the worse they looked from every angle.

"Cynthia says she doesn't remember much. I believe her, but…"

"But there's something she isn't saying."

"Maybe I did go crazy, Jazz. If my mom and I were as close as Cynthia is saying, it's entirely possible that I suffered some sort of mental break. And with the way there's the theory that strong traits lead to potential abilities and gifts, maybe that's why I can see the future. I just happened to be the perfect type of crazy for it to translate into future-telling."

It didn't feel good to argue against her own sanity, but she didn't want to think about the possibility that there was something more sinister happening within her family's past.

"I don't believe that." And that had always been Jasper's stance. He outright refused to believe she'd been mentally unsound as a human. At first, it was something she found comfort in. But now, as she argued against him and in favor of her family's actions, she was left feeling lost.

Again, the feeling that she was out of place and trying to force herself back into her family, left her highly uncomfortable.

"There's more to this," Jasper spoke firmly. "I know there is. And I'm going to figure it out."

"What if it's bad?" She whispered. "I don't know if I want to know if it's bad." The confession left her feeling like a coward. It wasn't something she'd felt in a while. Not since before the war had began.

"No matter what the truth is, it'll come out eventually. I think it's beneficial if we discover it first before someone else does the right amount of digging in the right places and beats us to the punch."

He was right about that. With the amount of eyes that were on the two of them, it was a matter of time before a journalist or someone investigated her past too accurately.

"I learned some news today," he spoke, shifting the tides of the conversation effectively, and bringing her mind back to the present, "Skye is petitioning to end her life."

Alice was on her feet in an instant. "What? No! Why?" The news ripped her out of her family drama and suddenly her chest ached for a different reason. "She can't."

"They're at the final stages of resetting over in Winnipeg. Her and Victoria both. I know you don't have as much experience with resetting as you do with actual entrances. But it's part of the process; it's seen as a privilege to be allowed to be reset. The option is always provided for people who don't think they can handle returning to the real world. Or," he sighed, "in her case, she'd be entering the real world."

"But last I heard she was doing great and was on track to go to self-control training!"

Despite the girl's role in the war, and the havoc her ability had wreaked on Jasper (and by association, her) Alice had found herself strangely protective over the soft-faced vampire. Thankfully, she wasn't alone in this.

"I submitted a request to be allowed to speak with her finally," Jasper spoke, his tone glum. "I think I might be able to talk her out of it."

Alice found herself nodding fiercely as she clung to the phone. "Yeah, good. Do that." Like a handful of radicals under Maria's thumb, Skye had been one of the few who had been serving against her will. Victoria, the other survivor of that final battle, had been another one. Both of them were gifted, and their gifts had been used for Maria's benefit.

She knew that Victoria was also en route to be in self-control training next month, too. She also would be serving a much shorter period of time than any of the other radicals. Because like Jasper, she'd already been both in the system and living publicly as a legal, recorded vampire. But, unlike Jasper, she'd been absent for nine census counts in a row. It wasn't a punishable offense, but it was cause for concern on their end.

The census counts were to ensure vampires lived where they were registered. It was mainly to keep track of them physically, but it was also helpful in ensuring that proper laws were being abided by.

Any vampire who skipped out on their region's census immediately caused red flags to raise.

Jasper's willingness to speak with Skye caused Alice to choke up suddenly. She didn't think he would ever know how truly good he was. This was the girl whose gift had nearly driven him mad, but Jasper knew exactly what she'd gone through under Maria's thumb. Jasper knew what it was like to be brain-washed into thinking that Maria and her cause were all that mattered. And Jasper wanted to show her that there was still a future for her.

"I think if anyone can help her now, it's you," Alice commented softly. "Let me know when they get back to you. If it's not soon let me know and I'll see what I can do."

"Keep an eye on her," Jasper requested. "She can't exactly expedite the process, thankfully. But she's impulsive. I can picture her doing something foolish."

Alice could, too. If it came down to it, she'd travel to Winnipeg herself and speak with the girl. She'd even go alone if she had to.

They spoke a little while longer before Jasper left to go on a quick hunt with Emmett, who was now back in town. Emmett had spoken to her for a couple minutes, making Alice laugh a few times before they'd parted ways.

As she stared at the phone, it's blank screen no longer providing her the comfort of loved ones just on the other end, Alice sighed.

It was strange, to be feeling the things she was feeling now, especially with the week she'd had.

She was supposed to be happy. Or at least happier. She was finally meeting her biological family members, learning all about them and their pasts. It felt refreshing to add new people to her mental list of people to check up on daily. The futures of all her family members were bright and happy, full of good things and exciting prospects.

But now, for once in her strange life, it wasn't the future she was worried about.

It was when Alice was already driving to Cynthia's house when the entire plan of the day shifted, veering violently off course so abruptly that Alice was forced to quickly pull the car over to the side of the road.

It appeared Cynthia's husband, Tim, was back from his work trip.

And he was not happy.

As she focused on the flickering, changing future ahead of her, Alice reached out blindly, pressing the button to turn her hazards on. She waited for a path to solidify itself, before realizing it wasn't going to. This would be one of those instances were it wasn't up to her to decide which direction her day would go in.

"Fuck," she exhaled, focusing on her windshield wipers as they moved from side to side. It wasn't raining too heavily; just a light shower. Alice knew it would clear up by noon. Reaching over, she turned the radio up a little bit louder.

She felt like she needed something else—anything else—to focus on right now before she ended up bursting into tears.

It's okay, she coached herself mentally, it's going to be alright.

She didn't quite know what he was upset about, but Tim's anger was a visible, certain thing in her mind. And she was positive that it was because of her.

Pressing her hazard button again, Alice flicked her blinker and merged back onto the road, willing her hands not to shake as she drove through the rain. It would be okay. She would introduce herself and hopefully he'd be willing to meet her and get to know her and things would be better.

For a moment she contemplated messaging Cassie on Instagram; surely the girl's presence would calm her father's temper a bit. But a quick vision showed her that the presence of any of Tim and Cynthia's children would make the forthcoming confrontation much, much worse.

He was already on the porch by the time Alice had pulled into the driveway and parked.

He wasn't much taller than Cynthia. The photos she'd been shown must've been older than she thought, because this man was bigger than she'd expected, his hair just a twinge grayer. There was no old baseball hat, or sports team shirt. His tie was loosened around his neck, his jacket coat gone and the sleeves of his button up were rolled to the elbow.

"No!" He shouted when she opened the car door, and suddenly he was barreling toward the SUV, shaking his head furiously. "No, no you are not coming inside of my house. You are not welcome here—"

"Tim!" Cynthia was out the door and running after him. Her face was red and splotchy, her cheeks stained with tears. "Tim stop! Don't do this!"

He reeled on her, shaking with anger. "Cynthia, get back inside. The leech is not coming in." He spat the word out, turning toward Alice. When he realized that she was already out of the car, the door closed behind her, it seemed to incite him further. "You are not welcome in my home," he spoke the words slowly, annunciating each one carefully. "I do not care who you used to be, or who you think you are or you were. You need to leave. Now."

"Tim, stop! That's my sister!"

"Your sister is dead Cynthia," he didn't take his eyes off Alice once, and the amount of hatred this man had for her had Alice rendered entirely speechless. "She is long dead; it's just another disgusting leech." He stepped closer to her, still. "You do not step one foot inside my house, you hear me?"

"I hear you," she spoke firmly. She needed to get through to this man somehow, but she didn't know where to begin, even with her visions at her disposal. The amount of vitriol he was spewing at her was so baffling. He didn't know her. He didn't know her. "But will all due respect—"

"Which is none! You are not deserving of my respect! Filthy fucking blood sucker, endangering this town by just being here!" Alice watched as he contemplated spitting on her, but decided against it at the last second. "Get out of my driveway now. I don't care what you supposedly 'Protect' but you have no power here. I'll call the cops if you aren't gone in thirty seconds. You're trespassing."

"Tim, please, hear me out!"

"Cyn, I am not speaking to you until the vamp is gone."

"I'll go," Alice spoke, her voice surprisingly even. Her eyes flickered to Cynthia and her heart broke. "I'll go," she repeated, her words directed at her sister. It's okay, she wanted to say. I know. I get it. But she didn't say anything. Instead, she turned back toward the car and opened the door.

"Wait!" Cynthia shouted. When Alice turned toward the woman she was already running back into the house. "Wait! Just a second!"

With Cynthia gone momentarily, Tim stepped even closer. There was the possibility he would try to lay a hand on her, and Alice didn't quite know what she would do if he tried. She wasn't even sure if he was aware of the fact that nothing he could do could make her budge; if anything, he'd end up hurting himself. So while he toyed with his options, his fury a visible thing, he shook. His hands clenched into fists as he stared down at her, contemplating his next move.

He decided on more threats instead.

"If you ever step foot inside my home again I'll have you arrested for trespassing. You leeches aren't above the law and I'll spend my very last breath making sure you know it. You and that murderous parasite you fuck will get what's coming to you. Mark my words."

"I hear you loud and clear." Alice knew there was nothing she could do now. Nothing she could say would sway this man, and no amount of damage control could remedy what had been done. And in just a minute Alice's entire week shattered, her heart feeling especially heavy in her chest as she climbed back into the car.

"Wait!" Cynthia shouted again, and suddenly she was back outside and standing outside the driver's side door.

"Cyn," Tim's voice was angry as he reached out and grabbed her arm. "Let the leech leave."

"Here," Cynthia was holding back sobs as she just about threw the small, teal album at Alice. "It's yours anyways."

"Get back inside," Tim growled, pulling his wife back and away from the car, "now."

"I'm sorry," Cynthia cried, and she was sobbing freely in the driveway now. "I'm sorry, Alice."

But Tim was already pulling her away, still muttering under his breath about filthy fucking bloodsuckers and dirty disgusting leeches. By the time Alice closed the door, the entire inside of the driver's side was wet.

Alice felt like she was moving on auto-pilot as she pulled out of the driveway. She couldn't help but notice how a few neighbors were on their own porches, some just watching from windows, trying to see what scene was transpiring in the Holmes' family yard.

She shouldn't have felt as embarrassed as she did, but Alice was humiliated. She was a fool, plain and simple. She'd seen what had been coming and had stupidly thought that there was a path she could take that would turn the tides in her favor.

She should have known that something like that would happen. The entire week had already been too good to be true. It was only right that something as awful as this would happen.

Alice felt numb as she drove back to the center, and then past it. And she drove for the better part of an hour before she forced herself to pull into a gas station. The instant she parked the car the dam burst, and she was crying.

She was embarrassed. Humiliated and confused and angry and upset. And above it all she was heartbroken.

Her excitement over meeting Tim had blinded her from the reality of what awaited her. If she'd actually done what she used to, and watched her own future meticulously, she would've seen this coming a mile away.

In her desperation for these people to accept her she'd repressed every instinct she'd fine-tuned over the past forty years, and she felt like an idiot.

But this was her family. These were people that she hadn't known existed, but who she'd wanted to know about her entire life. People who she'd forgotten about through forces entirely outside of her control.

Alice knew that this life would provide her with plenty of examples of the different types of prejudice that there were out there, but she never imagined she'd face it so directly from someone she was associated with so closely.

Between those preconceived notions and her own questionable past, it was impossible for some people to look past. Even her own brother-in-law, it seemed.

Opening her phone she crafted a quick message, sending it to her niece's inbox.

I won't be able to say goodbye. I'm sorry.

Alice was sure the girl would hear about it soon enough. But she'd promised not to leave without saying goodbye. Something told her that was the only goodbye she'd be able to give.

She contemplated sending any more messages, even if to her fellow Protectors. But she was too embarrassed and upset to even send Jasper a text. She knew if he called her she'd start sobbing again. She'd rather tell him what happened in person.

Within the hour Alice had returned the car, gathered her things, hitched a ride to the airport, and now she was waiting to board the first flight out.

Again, the opportunity to send her friends a message, letting them know she would be home soon, presented itself. But instead Alice shut her phone off entirely. She'd be back in Rickett's soon enough.

Until then, she wanted to forget everything.

She didn't even let herself enjoy the irony. She boarded the plane, closed her eyes, and decided not to open them until she was home.

She'd face her reality later.

A/N:Happy Pisces season my little emotional wrecks.

Now, before you click away: do me a favor and either follow me on my Tumblr (flowerslut) or make sure you have author alerts here on FF. I'll be posting again at some point this week, with a potential announcement. Will it be a new (bonus) chapter to this story or another story entirely? That's yet to be decided. But still: watch this space. *Gestures vaguely to my entire account* Anyways, back to the note.

Ah, yes. I know many of you called it. But I mean, hey. Not all plot points can be shocking and gasp-inducing. Some details end up being predictable; Alice's visit crashing and burning just happened to be one of them.

Poor Alice... poor Jasper... poor... *checks notes* Skye? Alright then.

The next chapter is a doozy. Brace yourself for that one. But in the meantime enjoy the chapter. And if you want to hear my newest song, you can find that on my Instagram (shutupmaybe). I may or may not have unintentionally written a Maria-esque anthem, but I will accept full responsibility for it, like the saint I am.

Until next time, take care of yourselves.

REVIEW REPLIES:

deltagirl74:No matter what he says or how much he complains, Jasper adores Josie, but she deserves to bug the shit out of him during her every waking moment, and we love that for her. And our little Jasper just wants Alice happy and his in any way he can...
Also, whoops. I hope that abrupt ending to Alice's little trip wasn't too much. But you, among many others, called it! The peace wasn't meant to last.

ZileRacer:Edward's backstory was my favorite to alter, but again. In time... it'll all be known... (It's just taking a long ass time for me to get around to this guide LOL sorry)
No matter what it seems like at the end of this chapter here, we haven't seen the last of Alice's human family. Not even a little bit. And yep! Not too many more OCs in this story to introduce. My two main OCs are Josie and Skye. I'm not planning on adding another big player to this game who isn't a part of canon in some form or another.

guest: LMAO you know me so well... hope the ending wasn't too sad or disappointing. Don't worry. You'll see them again at some point...