"We are…'bout three miles out."

"Three miles?" Chrissy squeaked up at him. "That far?"

"Yup." Eddie slid down from the boulder he'd climbed to scout ahead, landing in front of her. He tried to be careful, landing on his demodog-chow foot, but it was a lost cause. There was nothing gentle about navigating the Upside Down.

They'd been walking for nearly half an hour before Eddie had decided to double-check their location. The map in his head got all screwy in this place. Nothing looked right. Yes, the woods were difficult to navigate anyway, no matter how small the town was—there was plenty of aimless forest acreage surrounding suburban life. But slapping a ton of vindictive black creepers on everything and stuffing the air full of cough-magnets made it worse. The red flashes were patchy at best; they only seemed to make the shadows darker afterward. Every tree started looking the same, every big rock or mossy log was mocking them. He'd needed to get a better view.

"But—you said you knew how to get there," Chrissy reminded him. She was fiddling with her Walkman; she kept pressing different buttons to try and make it give her more than just choppy lyrics and static.

"Well, guess I took a wrong turn at the last creepy demonic vine," Eddie sighed, hitching up his pants. "Not like Skull Rock's my idea of party central, anyway, I mean, I'm no regular."

They headed around the boulder, moving north.

"No?"

"No, uh," Eddie sniffed, trying not to limp much. Hard to do when your ankle had been torn open. "I mainly just hung around there to sell some stuff. Y'know—before it turned into everybody's faaaaavorite spot to suck face."

Chrissy made a noncommittal hum, head twitching in every direction, trying to cover all their bases. Not that they'd seen much since they'd reached the trees. Several scary sounds made the presence of monsters hard to forget, but no actual sightings outside of the nightmare in the school basement.

He glanced sideways at her, fingers twiddling near his side. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"You and Carver never, uh…?"

"Oh—no." Chrissy let her hand drop from the Walkman, shoving at the tattered left sleeve of her hoodie. "No."

He watched her mouth curl and buck, like she was trying to choose between chuckling and grimacing. They were each scanning the trees now, feet crunching and squelching with every step. A bit more space opened up between her shoulder and his. Chrissy's nose remained pointed mostly down, eyes locked on the next vine in her path to step over, and the next one, and the next one. Eddie's fingers curled into a fist to swing against his hip.

Chrissy caught him watching her, and he must have looked pretty skeptical because she said, "It—it's not really Jason's scene, you know? Taking girls out to the woods. He says it's…"

"Beneath him?"

"No," Chrissy huffed. She allowed him a little smile.

"No, I get it," Eddie raised his hands and twisted his mouth up into a tight smirk. "I mean, he's dating a class act, gotta save the makeout spots for a classy joint, right? Probably takes you out to The Palace on the weekends?"

"No," Chrissy said again, louder, grinning fully. "Anyway. They go to the rock to have a few drinks sometimes. You know, when…Benny's isn't an option. And—yeah, it—it's not exactly the…well, he just—he doesn't think it's all that romantic."

Eddie nodded, stifling a bout of hacking and veering around a dying, dripping shrub in his path. He slid his hands into his jacket's pockets, trying to ignore the heartbeat he could feel drumming its way out of his ankle. Chrissy's perfume was faded now, masked by the general scent of decay everywhere. The hoodie messily tied around her waist seemed to be slipping, smudged with black and flecks of dirt.

"And—he's probably never gonna go back now," Chrissy went on. "Not after Patrick."

She glanced over at Eddie, and he returned the look to let her know he was still listening. Something in her tone pulled his attention, something nervous and raw.

"He was there," she informed him. "When Patrick died. He said it happened so…fast. I mean, one minute they were—just hanging out, and—I don't know, I guess they were getting loud. Jason doesn't really—um—tell me much about it when he goes drinking, even with the team. Like he thinks he'll give me ideas or something," she added, coughing a little into her shoulder. She twitched into another, weaker smile, half fond and half exasperated. Her arms came up and folded around her chest. "So. They'd had a couple of beers, I think, and no one noticed Patrick leaving, and then—"

She stopped talking so suddenly, Eddie thought maybe she'd heard something. Or seen something. He slackened his pace, glancing around for a moment before noticing the nauseated aura that had come over her. Her face seemed even narrower. Eddie dipped, trying to catch her eye, but she didn't notice. Stared straight ahead, swallowing.

"He said it was horrible. He was just—lying there. Like…broken." Chrissy was still walking, but now she was shaking. She was moving slow, practically dazed, gazing into the forest and the shadows and definitely not seeing any of it. Probably only seeing Patrick. Or what she imagined Patrick must've looked like.

Eddie wasn't imagining McKinney. He was imagining her—spaced out against his trailer's ceiling, eyelids fluttering, trapped there by Vecna. He didn't want to imagine her broken, too, but the picture she was decidedly not painting was too vivid, especially with the ambience of the Upside Down around them. The cheer queen was already so tiny. To break her like that would've been akin to breaking the lead tip off a No.2 pencil, or snapping an uncooked spaghetti noodle. Way too easy. Way too accessible for the rubbery, spidery creep controlling this place.

Chrissy must have been having some similar thoughts. She had almost stopped walking, mouth still open slightly like she wanted to keep going, but couldn't make her tongue work.

Eddie tilted his head, alarm tingling through his throat and down to his toes. "Hey—"

She wasn't trancing again. She met his eyes immediately, and hers weren't white; they were round and big and dark and a little too wet. "I—" Chrissy swallowed again, harder. "I just mean, Jason already wasn't the biggest fan of Skull Rock, so—and—now—"

She was changing the subject. Or wrapping it back around to their destination. That was fine—maybe even a good thing. The less she dwelt on the Vecna thing, the Patrick thing, the death thing, the safer she might be. Mentally and physically.

"He's scared," Chrissy added. "He's not usually like this. That night? Seeing—what he saw—and, and on the phone before, with me…"

Thunder boomed off to their left. Eddie watched her spiral, listened to her words come faster and faster. It was like Gareth during the climax of a campaign. The guy couldn't shut up, and he couldn't hear the other players when they tried to cut in. Too caught in his own head, his own strategies. The four bottles of orange Slice he downed every Hellfire meeting probably didn't help. Chrissy didn't have the excuse of being hopped up on crappy fruit-flavored carbonation, though.

"I don't know why he's acting like this," she finished, exhaling.

"Hey, no need to explain, okay?" Eddie replied, snorting. "Not like the guy had farther to fall with me, I mean, I'm not the one dating him."

"Yeah," Chrissy mumbled. She coughed again and tugged down at the sleeves of her blouse, which were woefully inadequate for the Upside Down climate. When she continued, her voice was stronger, fuller. As if she'd gotten a second wind. "I just can't believe he—"

Then the ground pitched them both sideways. Chrissy stopped talking about her boyfriend.

A huge rumbling rattled the branches above them, the forest floor rocking and swaying. Eddie felt like he was fishing on Lover's Lake with his uncle, twelve and covered in bug bites. But this was more like the lake was being picked up and tipped out somewhere. He was never the steadiest dinghy company anyway.

Chrissy yelped, staggering, nothing near enough to grab. The dead leaves slid beneath Eddie's shoes, that one bad ankle bearing too much of his weight for a moment. He was on the ground instantly, Chrissy right beside him, her back thumping against his shoulder as she lost her balance too.

Somewhere nearby, something fell. Something heavy. Maybe a whole oak. Or part of another rock. Or they could've gotten lucky and a monster had just died before it could sniff them out. Either way, the sound just added to the general feeling of chaos.

Eddie dug his hands into the mesh beneath him, grinding his molars to counteract the new throbbing these tremors were sending up his leg. When everything finally stopped moving, the two of them remained on the forest floor, breathing hard. His heart was pounding. His ankle was pounding harder.

Some creature cried out in the distance. There was a throaty stuttering to it, sounding a little too much like the demodog had.

Eddie scrambled to his feet, dragging Chrissy up with him, talking through his teeth. "Okay, so if the monsters don't get us and we don't suffocate or some sh—"

"Eddie—"

"—don't worry, cuz the earthquakes will take us out."

Chrissy was clutching his jacket sleeve in both hands, fingers gaining a surprisingly-tough purchase on leather that was already slick with gunk. "What, um…" She licked her lips, taking in another shaky breath. "What do you think the chances are we get to Skull Rock without…anything else happening?"

He tried to focus on her hands instead of his leg. Her nail polish was almost nonexistent now. "Uh…"

He shut his eyes for a moment; spots were trying to reappear. Had the world stopped shaking? It was like coming out of the ocean after a long day of swimming, when your body still felt the waves rocking you. The blouse wrapping on his hand was soaked through from clawing at the ground. The sensation was just irritating enough to be noticed.

Eddie's voice was wobblier than he would have liked when he replied, "Look um, without a DM Screen, I'm not much for statistics, plus I'm not really in what you'd call the headspace for stats right now, so—"

A shriek like a sick, dying bird sounded overhead, and his words died in his throat.

Something was flying about six feet above them. There were airborne monsters here. It was a gray thing with a long tail and flesh like a lizard's, flapping hideously and circling toward their neck of the woods. Two more showed up behind it, smaller, higher in the air. The tree branches were spiny and bare, but they were many, and it seemed to take a bit of maneuvering for the creatures to get close enough to really observe.

Of course, Eddie and Chrissy weren't that interested in observation.

Eddie cursed up at the bat-things, fingers jumping to his head. As soon as the bats started a rapid, jerking descent, Chrissy let out a noise between a gasp and a scream, hand releasing Eddie's sleeve so she could thwack his arm.

The thwack and the gasp/scream woke him up a little from the horrified stupor, but it helped that she shouted "Run!"

They bounced a few heartbeats on their feet and took off together, the trees and rocks and vines becoming cloudy, bruise-colored blurs in their peripherals. The turf was still sticky and slippery, but they managed to keep their footing. Eddie's brain dimly registered vines in his path, and his feet obeyed the low signals to avoid each one, even as adrenaline made his chest hurt and his senses wigged. Chrissy was right behind him—some part of him was listening to make sure of that—and he heard her make more small, urgent noises that had him assuming she kept looking up at their assailants.

"There's more!" she cried. She sounded terrified. And like she couldn't believe it.

Eddie didn't respond. He didn't have enough breath, and the information she was giving him did not inspire anything other than the urge to vomit.

Besides, he knew there were more of them. He could hear their wings and their little high-pitched roars, and their tails or wings or predatory intentions were constantly knocking into tree branches. The bats followed them for what seemed like half an hour, or thirty seconds, or some span of time that was too long or too short or even more unnecessary. There was already lightning. There were already earthquakes. A demodog had already taken bacon strips out of his body. Bats were excessive.

He risked a glance of his own. It was like looking at a huge, brown spider in your bed, the kind with legs in front and in back. Gave you that kind of tickling, creeping feeling. Kinda gross, very cool. Still a spider. And these had wings, and they wanted to eat him. At least spiders tended to mind their own business no matter where their legs pointed.

He forced himself to face forward again, and a mercifully-close patch of boulders caught his eye. "C'mon—"

Eddie and Chrissy swerved, legs scraping and pumping up a slight incline, gazes fixed on the rocks. The boulders rested snugly in a ditch, mostly old soil and soaked twigs everywhere. The two of them slid down into the muck, ducking involuntarily when one of the bats got impatient and tried to nosedive. The skeletal boughs of a birch—now Eddie's new favorite kind of tree—stood between the monster and its prey.

Eddie aimed right for a small spot underneath the biggest rock, devoid of any real vines. He crouched there, flapping a hand out at Chrissy until she reached him. He tugged her in beside him by the wrist.

They huddled there and watched the bats, both shaking violently. What one bat did, the rest sort of mimicked—they didn't seem too bright. The bold little monster that had gotten stuck in the birch was now drawing the attention of the rest of the colony. They circled and weaved around it, like they weren't sure if there was an invisible wall down there or something.

Eventually, the one freed itself, and with several outraged—or maybe bored—shrieks, the whole horde of them lifted higher into the sky. A big, gray, ugly cloud of wings and tails soared away, making too much noise and moving unfairly fast.

It took the two unscathed teenagers under the rock a few minutes before they could say anything. They sat and jittered in unison, breath making fog in front of them, not daring to give in to the need to cough.

Then Eddie said, lips pressed in a tight line, "Yeah, so I'd say chances of getting there safe are…kinda slim."

Chrissy pulled her knees out from under her, dragging them up to wrap her arms around them. Still puffing, she turned to look at him dubiously.

Eddie forced his head away from the sky and met her gaze. "Not, like—slim to none, just." He shrugged a shoulder and wagged his head slightly, watching her heave in and out. He couldn't think of anything else to say, actually. Especially since she was full-body trembling, looking kind of like she wanted to hit him, and her eyes were much bigger this close.

"How's your leg?" she asked, voice hushed and clipped. She unwound out of her sitting position, reaching for the tattered sleeve she'd tied around his injury.

"Still there," said Eddie, loathe to stretch it out for her to examine. If any creepy crawlies caught sight of any part of them hiding under the rocks, they'd be chew toys in seconds.

Chrissy didn't unwrap the hoodie sleeve. She did try to move it, though, slide it down, and that sent little ant-bites of pain up and down the area. She must have seen him wince, because she stopped and sat back, legs tucked underneath her. "Can we just…stay here for a little bit?"

Eddie felt his whole body stiffen up. Hoped it wasn't visible. "Uh…not that I don't want a breather, but isn't this kinda a new danger zone in itself? Like—we're under a rock, man. With the earthquakes and everything?"

Chrissy nodded, eyes on Eddie's totally-ruined shoes. "I know, but—you're hurt."

"I've had worse."

"You have?"

"No." Eddie snorted. "I wanted to sound cool, Chrissy, help me out."

She smiled. "Don't earthquakes happen a lot here?"

Eddie wiped his hands along his jeans, back and forth, surveying the underbelly of the rock above him. "Yeah, I guess if this thing's still here, nothing's to say it'll collapse on us now. Except, you know. Crappy luck."

"I don't believe in luck," Chrissy muttered, twisting to make sure Dustin's Walkman was still in her pocket.

"Well, with the bad karma following me around on a daily basis, you might change your tune. I mean, we did just get—" Eddie paused to suck in sharply, readjusting the sleeve around his ankle, "—chased down by a bunch of bats from Hell, so. Can't be too careful."

He watched her pull her headphones roughly out of her left pocket, still attached, and hold one of the foamy covers up to her ear. She pressed play on the Walkman and made a face.

"Getting anything?" Eddie checked.

Chrissy slowly shook her head. "Just—pieces."

He nodded, leaning back against the rock. Every movement seemed to agitate his demodog-scratch. He was really starting to wish he'd kicked that thing harder. Or maybe that its anatomy was a little more brittle—like, if it had been possible to kick its head right off its body. A very metal image. Maybe it couldn't have snagged him then. But the way this day was going, it probably would have turned out chicken-esque and kept trying to kill them even without its head.

"Alright, I guess we can rest," he sighed, scratching at the knee-hole in his pants. "Not because I'm an invalid or anything."

"Right," Chrissy agreed, tucking her headphones away and offering him another smile.

"Just for a second though. Gotta get to Skull Rock sometime."

Just for a second was long enough to fall asleep.

Eddie jerked awake at a particularly-loud peal of thunder. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep. He didn't remember falling asleep. How could anyone drift off in this death hole? But he had. And he'd been out. Another quake might've happened and he wouldn't have known. Squashed or rolled like sushi down into the open ditch where the monsters could find him. At some point, his body must have just given up. Too much adrenaline, too much stimulation, too much shock and trauma and physical exertion. The moment he'd paused, it shut down on him. Give it an inch and it took a mile. Didn't that just sum up everything about him, indulgence-wise? He could hardly blame his faculties. He'd taught them everything they knew.

He almost shifted, almost crawled into a more upright position, back still pressed against the boulder. But he didn't, thank every D&D god there was, because Chrissy was asleep too.

On his shoulder.

Her head was resting right on his left shoulder, hair wet at the ends and crazy around her face. Her mouth was closed. She didn't even drool when she slept, and he knew he did. How long had she been snoozing? Had she seen the drool? Chrissy was sitting next to him, hunched away from the rock, hips and legs a good spread-out handprint apart from his, but her head had dropped down to make contact at some point. Maybe against her conscious will, but she was unconscious now, and it was happening.

The last time someone had fallen asleep on his shoulder, it was Jeff, and it was on the way home from the Hideout. Nate had been the designated driver. Eddie had opened his eyes, seen Jeff passed out on him, scowled, and had promptly fallen back into a drunken haze. The van had smelled like tobacco and bad beer. Jeff wasn't drunk, just tired from the gig. Eddie had been drunk. If he hadn't, he might've shoved Jeff off of him.

He wasn't drunk now, and he still wasn't going to reclaim his shoulder.

Chrissy's chest barely rose or fell. This wasn't cause for panic or anything—she was simply really, really dead asleep. Maybe even athlete bodies had a breaking point. She was leaning a little forward, and it was the first time he could remember seeing her slouch that far. She always stood like someone had a big metal rod up against her spine. Or pretty hardback books balancing on her head or some princess crap going on. Birds probably helped her dress in the mornings too.

The hunching over made her look impossibly smaller, and much more normal. Cheerleaders always had that glimmer of plastic around them. Even their shadows had it. Too fake. Too poised. Maybe they were built in labs or something.

Just not Chrissy. Chrissy was organic. He could tell because she was snoring.

Eddie felt his mouth twitch up into a smile, glancing sideways down at her, lids hooded. Then he felt guilty for staring and directed his attention elsewhere. Needed something to do with his hands if he was going to stay sitting here like this, wide awake. He was wide awake; the Upside Down was even worse when you woke up there. Normally bad dreams went away when you opened your eyes. This one was laughing at him—gotcha—from the moment he came to.

He carefully fished his lighter out with his right hand, moving like he was underwater so as not to disturb his friend. Eddie flicked the cap on and off, wondering if his cigarettes were all completely smushed by now, wondering if they'd even light here. And if they did, wouldn't the smell of it bring the demodogs a-sniffing?

As he was deliberating, Chrissy woke up.

She didn't move her head much. Instead, she shifted and stretched her fingers out against her legs, which were crisscrossed in front of her. He heard her inhale and swallow. Probably had that same taste in her mouth that he had, like breathing in rain on the wind for however long they'd been asleep. He remained very, very quiet, trying to pretend he had noticed neither her choice of pillow nor the snoring.

Chrissy seemed to remember where she was and immediately pulled her head away, sitting up straight. Her hands started shaking; why did they do that all the time? Did they do that before Vecna?

"Ohmigosh—"

"Hey, woah, it's okay," Eddie quickly spoke over whatever she was trying to express, "we're good, we're okay—"

Her arms and legs snapped to attention, curling in on her. Her breathing was coming in gasps and she closed her mouth like it was made of cotton, slow, the whites of her eyes darting at him.

"We're safe." Eddie hitched up his legs, turning so that his whole body faced hers. "It's okay," he repeated, eyebrows raising.

Chrissy's breath wound down to a normal pace, dirt staining her knees where she folded her legs up to her chin. She met his eyes and nodded, sniffling a little. She kept blinking a lot, too. In a few seconds, she was herself, the imaginary books back on her head and her shoulders perfectly even. Her hands still shook, but she gripped her ankles hard to stop them.

"Nightmare?" Eddie asked awkwardly, eyebrows coming down to knit together.

She shook her head. "Actually," she huffed out, corners of her mouth trying to come up and failing, "that's—that's like the first time I haven't had a nightmare in—god, I can't even remember." Her hand shot to lift her bangs up; she stared at the ground without seeing it, full of surprise at the revelation.

"Yeah, this place is nightmare enough," Eddie muttered, glaring around at the general flora and fauna. He flicked the lighter open and shut again. "Y'know, it's basically my fault we're even in here."

Chrissy's eyebrows matched his. She seemed to think her expression was enough, argue-wise.

"Guess this is what I get for not running away," Eddie added, letting a bitter grin spring up.

"I mean, we…are still kind of running away," Chrissy pointed out. Everything in her mouth and eyes was playful for a second, teasing.

Eddie grunted, grin turning genuine.

Then she added, sucking in a bit more air and visibly avoiding a cough, "And—you were trying to save Dustin, so—at least you were doing the right thing. Right?"

"Yup." Eddie exhaled through his nose; lips pursed. Sarcasm in every syllable. "Best laid plans."

He flicked the lighter on, not really expecting it to work. It did. In fact, when the flame appeared, so did a slight orangey-aura around it, full of little flickering sparkles and light fractals. Like pixie dust or something, swirling near the fire, not just sparks. Something longer-lasting, flaring up and out.

Chrissy's eyes were drawn right to it with his. Her mouth fell open in wordless delight. That warm glow was absolutely a welcome sight in the Upside Down. It was different than looking at a candle in a room with no windows, or standing outside and lighting a match. It was like looking at magic in a silver box in your hand.

"Wow," Chrissy whispered in a squeak.

"Yeah," Eddie whispered back on a puff of air, fascinated.

"Is…is it all like this?" she kept whispering. "Like—all the lights here?"

"I dunno," he mumbled, a little louder, distracted.

He pinched at the flame with thumb and forefinger, pulling up, up, as he did. Twice, three times. Tongue poking out. The flame, as usual, wafted up, but the sparkles went wobbling with it. The two of them watched this little show, like kids with sparklers on the 4th of July, totally enamored.

"Be careful," Chrissy said, fists near her mouth. She sounded distracted too.

Eddie looked past the flame at her impatiently, reassuringly, brows bunching. "Doesn't hurt."

"I—" She rolled her eyes halfway. "I know, but—"

"It's not going anywhere, look." Eddie held the lighter out closer to her.

She shied away. "Nnn—no, that's okay—"

"C'mere, look. Look." He reached out and grabbed one of her hands, drawing it gently toward the very tip of the flame.

Chrissy let him, eyes scrunched up. He held her wrist and moved her fingers back and forth through the top of the fire, fast, eyes cutting between her expression and the lights.

"See? Just tickles."

Chrissy was leaning forward now, on her knees, that tiny aura turning her bangs gold and her cheeks redder. Her mouth was still open, but she was beaming, enjoying the scant warmth of the lighter and the feeling in her fingertips. "It feels…good," she said, hushed.

He chortled, releasing her wrist so he could mess with the flame too.

They repositioned so that they could play with the lighter more comfortably. Eddie sat again with his back to the boulder, ignoring the now-dull pulsing of his ankle. He scooted to the right to make more room for Chrissy under the bulk of the rock's overhang. She moved in right next to him, hips and legs forgetting the handprint space, pressing in beside him so she could reach the lighter without any extra stretching.

They sat like that for probably-too-long, pinching the flame and swiping each finger individually over it and through it. Watching the gold and the orange drift up and down. Eddie could hardly feel the cold of the woods anymore, even if their breath continued to crystallize. Maybe it was because another warm body was propped up against him, or that the lighter and the fun of messing with it was offering some much-needed placebo. Or because Chrissy was very softly giggling, like she was afraid to let it out or afraid he'd hear her, and it made her shoulder shake against his and it drowned out the thunder still rolling somewhere out there.

He let her have the lighter to herself for a moment, content to watch her. Realizing she wasn't going to turn and look back at him any time soon, he said, "Chrissy?"

"Yeah?" She was twiddling all the fingers on her left hand, eyes still on the light. When he didn't respond immediately, she paused to face him.

"It's kinda your fault you're in here," he told her bluntly, shrugging a shoulder.

She made a face, eyebrows coming down, almost laughing. "What?"

"Yeah, y'know—if you hadn't come running in to save me—"

"I—I did not run in, I was already—"

"You heard my plaintive, girlish cries for help, and you came to the rescue," Eddie assured her. "You did. So it's your fault you're here right now." He jabbed a finger her way, smirking.

Chrissy gave him something between a scoff and a chuckle. "Okay—"

"Thank you," he added, louder, firmer. She quieted down, taking in his more serious tone. Eddie gave her a small, faint smile, far from a smirk, too nervous to be a grin. "Seriously."

Chrissy's eyelids flicked down. So did her head, her nose, everything but the edges of her mouth. She was shy and too-straight again, biting her lip. The action made the lack of actual space between them altogether too obvious. Maybe that was why her attention was pinned to the dirt. Social boundaries were a strong mental leash. Her response was quiet.

"You're welcome."

Then she pushed off the ground with her palms, forcing herself into a standing position. Eddie sat and watched her do it, subconsciously reluctant to leave the little hovel and the lighter and the comfort of it all. He almost wanted to frown up at her for cutting it short, but with that awkward, pleased look on her face, it was impossible.

"We better get going."

(Author's Note: You should be leaving reviews on this story if you read it. I'm not a writing machine. I really appreciate hearing thoughts! Thank you to those few who have reviewed it. Please continue to review each chapter if you want the story to continue. I'm not just writing this so I can leave it here in the void and get zero recognition or feedback. I'm writing it for me, but I'm posting it for you guys. If no one is vocal about their enjoyment [or hatred] of it, I will finish it for myself and not post any more of it because it'll feel like no one cares. Take a minute out of your day to review - review this and any other fanfic from any other author that you read. It's common courtesy and we really need it. Thank you! -Doverstar)