Chapter Seven: Toil and Trouble.
Series: Three.
Episode: Two - Shakespeare Code.
Part: Two.

Bethlem hospital was more vile and depressing than Rose could have possibly imagined. The sick and the unfortunate forced to live in terrible conditions and put on display for the gentry as some sort of macabre entertainment, made Rose sick to her stomach. It wasn't the first time she'd witnessed something of this sort and wouldn't be the last, but it didn't stop her heart from aching for each and everyone of them every time.

The patients - though the term prisoner seemed more apt in this case - pleaded for help, some clawing at the bars as they attempted to make a grab for the visitors.

"Does my Lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits? I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for you. Mad dog in Bedlam." The keeper boasted, oblivious to their disgust.

"No, I don't!" The Doctor snapped.

"Well, wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies." The keeper seemed to fumble at the unusual reply as he disappeared through the cages, whipping the bars on his way past.

"So this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?" Martha spat at the wordsmith.

"Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia." Shakespeare responded unbothered by her accusations.

"But you're clever. Do you honestly think this place is any good?"

Rose ignored the two of them, too distracted by the patient's plight. She knew there wasn't much they could do to help, this sort of practice would continue for years, but it didn't make it any easier to deal with.

"I've been mad. I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose."

"Mad in what way?"

"You lost your son." The Doctor spoke up, in the tone Rose had come to recognise as him reflecting on what he'd lost after the Timewar and sympathising with those who'd experienced similar.

Rose's mind wandered back to the conversation on the TARDIS during their run in with the isolus and once more found herself having to remind herself that she didn't know the Doctor quite as well as she liked to think she did.

"My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry." Martha fumbled to acquit herself at the revelation.

Rose rubbed a hand soothingly down her arm, knowing she felt awful for lashing out, taking her own guilt at being useless in the patients' suffering, out on Shakespeare. She would likely have reacted similarly if she wasn't so lost in her own bloody head.

She'd experienced the most awful tugging in her gut accompanied by a wave of nausea as well as the now familiar prickling sensation associated with psychic energy not long after they'd left the theatre and was even more keen to have this situation over and done with so she could retreat to the safety of the TARDIS.

"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be. Oh, that's quite good."

"You should write that down." The Doctor suggested.

"Maybe not. A bit pretentious?"

The Doctor shrugged non-committedly, while enjoying giving the playwright some of his most famous lines was apparently unwilling to push the issue.

Any further conversation was interrupted by the bellowing of the keeper.

"This way, my lord!"

The quartet made their way down the last of the dank corridors separating them from Peter in silence.

"They can be dangerous, my lord. Don't know their own strength."

"I think it helps if you don't whip them. Now get out!" The Doctor snapped, his tone dripping with condemnation, so at odds with how he'd spoken only moments before.

The keeper looked startled but wisely said nothing else as he made his exit, locking the door behind himself.

"Peter? Peter Streete?" The Doctor spoke gently as he approached the man.

"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him."

"Peter?"

As the Doctor's hand came to rest on Peter's shoulder, the man's head snapped up at an unnatural speed, his eyes wide and filled with madness. His body trembling with each breath.

Realising he'd get nothing out of him in this state, the Doctor raised his fingers to Peter's temples with shuttered eyes, a sign that he was about to attempt telepathy.

"Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past. One year ago. Let your mind go back. Back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A Winter's Tale. Let go. That's it. That's it, just let go."

Peter began to fall back onto his cot as the telepathic suggestion took hold. Rose watched fascinated, the Doctor didn't use telepathy often so it was something she was rarely witness to.

"Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."

"Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered. They whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The fourteen walls. Always fourteen. When the work was done they snapped poor Peter's wits."

The speech pattern of the sick man was adled and confusing, and Rose's heart went out to the man who'd got caught in these creatures path and lost.

"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city? Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"

The telepathic suggestion seemed to lose some of it's hold over Peter as whatever the witches had done to him took over, his panic becoming more apparent. But the additional prompting seemed to be enough to allow him to get the words out.

"All Hallows Street."

Just as the words were spoken a figure appeared over the Doctor's shoulder. A thunderous migraine overtook Rose before she could warn the Doctor.

"Too many words." The hag-like woman spoke.

The Doctor stumbled back, rejoining the rest of them, but leaving Peter at the witch's mercy.

"What the hell?"

"Ma thoughts exactly." Rose gasped, struggling to regain her breath through the pain.

"Just one touch of the heart." She said dramatically, before bending over Peter with an outstretched finger.

"No!"

As the finger touched Peter's chest he let out a choked gasp before his eyes went dull with lifelessness. The witch wailed as she stole the man's life from him, as if she was in pain rather than the one who'd caused such pain. Rose clutched a hand to her mouth at the overpowering nausea, hoping to stifle any noise that might key the Doctor in on her condition as well as trying to abate the sensation. But the being's very existence made the TARDIS rebel inside Rose's mind, only adding to her pain.

"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!"

"Now, who would be next, hmm? Just one touch. Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."

"Let us out! Let us out!" Martha shrieked as she shook the bars that kept them trapped with the creature.

"That's not going to work. The whole building's shouting that."

The Doctor was far too calm for Rose's already frazzled nerves. This creature was impossible, how could he not see that?

Rose faltered for a second, questioning how she herself had known that. The information hadn't come to her in a stream the same way it had at the hospital as an obvious symptom of Bad Wolf but rather as a simple fact that she'd always known, like what she'd had for breakfast this morning. A part of her rather than a part of someone else.

"Who will die first, hmm?"

"Well, if you're looking for volunteers." The Doctor stepped forward.

"No! Don't!" And Rose was inclined to agree.

"Doctor, can you stop her?"

"I hope you have a plan." Rose said through gritted teeth, as the pain had yet to dissipate.

"No mortal has power over me." The creature glared at her haughtily.

"Oh, but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one. If I can just know you."

"None on Earth has knowledge of us."

The being's finger stretched out once more, aiming for the Doctor this time but he leant back just out of reach barely in time, as he tried to look at the pieces of the puzzle and fill in the blanks in the picture.

"Then it's a good thing I'm here. Now think, think, think. Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy. Ah! Fourteen! That's it! Fourteen!" The creature collapsed in on herself a little, glaring balefully at the Doctor for likely having put a wrench in the works of their plans. "The fourteen stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!"

The Carrionite screamed as it vanished in a ball of blinding light, Rose's migraine pulsed painfully behind her eyes as her stomach twisted. But the pain finally dulled as the light faded and she was freed from the Carrionite's presence. For the time being anyway.

"What did you do?" Martha asked breathlessly.

"I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic."

"But she's gone for good now, right?" She asked somewhat hopefully, she never wanted to see one of those things ever again.

"No idea what affect it'll have on them, never encountered one outside of storybooks before."

"But there's no such thing as magic." Martha blurted, recalling their conversation from last night at the inn.

"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead."

"Use them for what?"

"The end of the world."

An ominous feeling settled over Rose, she wasn't entirely sure whether the feeling was entirely hers or the TARDIS', or a little of both.

x

The Doctor was pacing the floor, rambling, when they returned to the inn moments later, all still shaken from having witnessed a man's death. Shakespeare was washing his face, the nightly routine likely acting as both an outlet and cover for his shock and grief. Martha was leaning against a chest of drawers lost in thought. Rose hugged her middle lightly, as if to protect herself from another wave of nausea, as she watched the Doctor carefully.

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."

"Well, I'm going for real."

"But what do they want?"

"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft"

"So the usual then." Rose muttered absently, missing the light tone she was hoping for by a mark.

"But how?" Always asking the right questions, that was Martha.

"I'm looking at the man with the words."

Rose followed the Doctor's gaze to Shakespeare. He was connected somehow, that much was obvious, you didn't need a Timelord brain or to be a genius to spot the link. And hadn't Martha mentioned the same only this morning?

"Me? But I've done nothing."

"Hold on, though. What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?"

"Finishing the play." His tone a tad defensive in light of their accusations.

That gleam was back in the Doctor's eyes, he'd figured out the next piece in the puzzle.

"What happens on the last page?"

"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual." His defensive tone dropped as he faltered, looking a little worried himself now. "Except those last few lines. Funny thing is, I don't actually remember writing them."

"That's it. They used you. They gave you the final words like a spell, like a code. Love's Labours Won. It's a weapon. The right combination of words, spoken at the right place, with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing! And yes, you can have that."

x

The Doctor had pulled out dozens of maps after his revelation, and began hunting down the name of the street that had caused Peter's death.

"All Hallows Street. There it is. Martha, Rose, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play."

"I'll do it. All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."

"As if his head wasn't big enough already." Rose teased, grinning at his offended squawk.

"Oh, don't complain." Martha teased, an air of jovelity returning to her.

"I'm not. It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor."

"Good luck, Shakespeare." The Doctor grabbed his coat as he ran for the door Martha following in his wake, while Rose lingered. "Rose, you coming?"

"This all seems to be linked to Will, yeah? They probably not gonna be too happy that we're tryna stop them, I'm gonna go with him."

"You sure?" And there was that concerned gaze that she'd seen far too much of since losing her mum, and Rose remembered why she'd wanted to get back to normal.

"Positive." She said, giving her most reassuring smile.

Aware that time was slipping away, the Doctor didn't try to convince her.

"Right then, once more unto the breach." He said ducking through the doorway in which Martha had disappeared moments before.

"I like that. Wait a minute, that's one of mine."

The Doctor poked his head back through the doorway, "Oh, just shift!"

Shakespeare grinned at Rose and together the two of them took off for the theatre.

x

The streets of Elizabethan were far more windy than they had any right to be. It was frankly unnecessary and Rose was sure she would have gotten lost without Shakespeare leading her through the labyrinth that was London.

"What is your secret, dear Rose." Shakespeare asked suddenly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Come now, I saw the way you reacted to that Carrionite you looked positively faint. You were careful not to draw your Doctor's attention, which has me wondering what you're hiding."

"He's not my Doctor." Rose corrected automatically, but cursed herself inwardly at the sight of Shakespeare's now victorious grin, that was so not relevant right now. "Do you really want to do this now? Think you've forgotten abou' the world endin', mate."

"I doubt I'll get another moment alone without your Doctor nearby." He emphasised in light of her outburst with a grin. "You seem intent on keeping it a secret, now may be my only opportunity. No need to cry Wolf, dear Rose."

Rose tripped over thin air at those last words, her shock distracting her. She stared gaping, at the wordsmith.

"What did you say?"

Shakespeare seemed taken aback by the mounting fear in her eyes.

"You fear the Wolf, and yet it is a part of you."

"You shouldn't know that." A prickle ran up her spine as her gaze flickered down the street. "We need to stop the play." She said putting an end to their revealing conversation and continuing down the street.

x

The play was already in full swing when they arrived. The voices from the stage floating backstage to meet them. Rose hissed, clutching her head as her migraine and nausea returned with a vengeance.

"Rose?" Shakespeare asked, coming to a halt.

"Go." She waved him off, unable to do much more without aggravating the mind numbing pain that was consuming her. "Don't worry about me, you need to stop the play."

He faltered for a moment more before doing as she said with a nod. Rose heard the stage doors swing open, the voice from within increased in volume for a second before they were muffled once more by the closing of the door. Rose sagged against the wall, overcome by the pain, she tried to take a minute to gather herself, away from the eyes that had accompanied her all day.

She was just beginning to catch her breath when her stomach began to rebel even more violently than before, and every breath was lost in retching. The stage doors flung open and a handful of actors stumbled in carrying an unconscious Shakespeare. They dumped him on a pile of straw off to the side out of the way before scurrying off. And Rose realised she'd been right to follow him.

She rushed over to him to check for a pulse and after struggling for several moments she found it. Pulsing reassuringly under her fingertips. Resolve strengthened, she stood, brushing off her clothes she made for the stage doors when her vision swam. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it, but that only made it worse.

A familiar song began to whisper through her mind, giving her strength, she started forward once more. But the pain just increased tenfold, it felt as if her brain were trying to detach itself from her skull. Her stomach roiled violently and suddenly it was too hot, the torches too bright, as her vision swam once more as black spots plagued her vision also. The song in her mind increased in tempo, sounding almost panicked. Through the singing she heard another voice, that filled her heart with dread and set her skin aflame, the last words she heard before the world faded away to darkness.

'Of the Wolf he knows not, he shant save Rose from Her plot.'

x

The Doctor arrived backstage after having faced one of the Carrionites to find a dazed Shakespeare and an unconscious Rose. His hearts skipped fearfully, he willed himself to believe that unconscious was all she was, as he rushed to her side. Upon finding her pulse he sent out a silent thanks to the universe for being kind for once.

But with the fear now dispelled, all that could take it's place was anger. Righteous fury that some had dared harm Rose, and to do so in an attempt to hurt him no less! As if she was no more than collateral damage. The guilt was swept aside by the torrent of anger, to be dealt with later. Unfortunately for Will, none of the people responsible were currently available.

"Stop the play. I think that was it. Yeah, I said, stop the play!"

"I hit my head." He argued weakly.

"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald."

A pained groan filled the air and the Doctor's gaze immediately dropped back to Rose. She moved sluggishly as she slowly came to.

"What happened?" She croaked as she sat up with the Doctor's aid, taking in the turmoil and anger in his eyes.

"The Carrionites." The Doctor answered simply, through gritted teeth, as if unable to say much more.

Rose's eyes widened as she remembered what had happened before the world had turned to play.

"Doctor, the play!"

Their heads flicked to the doors as screams of terror could be heard from the audience.

"I think that's my cue!" The Doctor leapt to his feet and scrambled towards the doors.

Rose struggled to follow after him, her head pounding and her skin still too tight and too hot.

"Now begins the millennium of blood!" The Carrionites crowed from their perch in the stands.

The sight that lay waiting for them behind the doors, made bile rise in her throat. Clouds and lightning the colour of blood filled the globe. Cackling bat-like figures occupied the storm. Her fear began to overwhelm her as it mixed with the TARDIS' along with the inherent knowledge that this was wrong, wrong, wrong.

"Come on, Will! History needs you!" The Doctor dragged Shakespeare forward.

"But what can I do?"

"Reverse it!"

"How am I supposed to do that?"

For a moment Rose feared they'd have to waste time thinking of another plan, that Shakespeare wasn't up for it. Or god help her, he'd say the wrong words, words that would allow these vile creatures permanence in this world.

"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith, the one true genius. The only man clever enough to do it."

"But what words? I have none ready!"

"You're William Shakespeare!"

"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision."

"Trust yourself. When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they, like magic. Words of the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm. Words that last forever. That's what you do, Will. You choose perfect words. Do it. Improvise."

The Doctor stepped back having concluded his speech, but Rose's panic had not abated. One mortal was hardly any match for creature so old and powerful. It had taken the eternals to end their reign of terror the first time. Rose's head swam, how did she know that?

"Close up this din of hateful, dire decay, decomposition of your witches' plot. You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not! Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points-" The playwright stopped suddenly turning to the Doctor for help.

"Seven six one three nine oh!"

"Seven six one three nine oh! Banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee…"

The wordsmith faltered once more at a loss for the final word to banish the creatures. He turned to the Doctor who looked similarly panicked as he in turn, turned to his companions. Rose was struggling to reconcile the two worlds of knowledge in her head and had missed most of the speech.

Luckily, Martha's mind had drifted back to last night's conversation and she found the perfect word. "Expelliarmus!"

"Expelliarmus!" The Doctor echoed.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Good old JK!"

The bloodred storm of cackling creatures was sucked into the sky by an unseen force. The stage of spectators grinned at the sight. A gust of wind blew open the stage doors and the play's manuscript came streaming out, going up with the Carrionites. The swirling storm disappeared in a flash of light.

Rose sagged with relief, finally free of the tumultuous sensations the Carrionites presence caused.

Silence fell over the theatre.

Until slowly, applause filled the air. The Doctor disappeared off stage and Rose, feeling clear headed for the first time in days, couldn't help but follow after him.

They found the seats in which the Carrionites had occupied, a small snow globe like object all that's left. The Doctor crouched to pick it up, the creatures screamed and clawed at the glass from within, sending a shiver of fear and revulsion down Rose spine.

"Is that it then? They're stuck in there for good now?"

"Hope so." The Doctor said tossing it lightly. "Only one way to be sure they don't get free again."

Rose's heart dropped just a little. It was only moments ago, so of course she still remembered how the Carrionites made the TARDIS feel. But she knew - objectively - there was nowhere safer for them than on their ship.

"Guess you better clear out some space in that attic of yours then."

"Nah. Always space in the TARDIS-"

"It's bigger on the inside." They said in unison.

"I know." She finished quietly as she shifted uneasily, not comfortable around the creatures, even while contained. "Come on, we best check that Shakespeare hasn't whisked Martha away."

"And that simply wouldn't do."

x

Morning came too slowly for Rose's liking the next day. She'd barely slept a wink, their current adventure having left her restless and uneasy, she'd longed to run back to the TARDIS. The Doctor had commented on her constant tossing and turning from where he was sat up against the headboard fiddling with an odd contraption he'd found in his pockets. Rose had glared up at him and he'd wisely kept quiet on her sleeping habits for the rest of the night.

It wasn't his fault, he didn't know of the TARDIS' meddling or how she'd felt the last two days. But she was irate and stressed and longing to escape.

They'd gone back to the theatre to make sure all copies of the play had disappeared as they'd suspected, not keen on the idea of the Carrionites awakening again. Frankly, Rose was beginning to hate the Globe or perhaps even theatres in general. One thing was for sure, if she didn't have to see a play or a witch for at least a month she could die happy.

Martha and Shakespeare chatted or rather flirted on stage, while the Doctor rummaged backstage. Rose had gotten bored five minutes in and had gone to join the Doctor in his search. The quicker the search was over the quicker they could leave.

The Doctor got predictably distracted by a great many things in the props store but it offered Rose a distraction too. One she selfishly took, despite the secrets she was hiding.

The two of them rejoined the others on stage, the Doctor trailing behind looking ridiculous in neck ruff and laden with props.

"Good props store back there. I'm not sure about this though. Reminds me of a Sycorax. Rose, what do you think?"

She turned back around to see exactly which of the many props that he'd snagged he was referencing. Only to see a giant animal skull in hand that did indeed remind her of her first christmas with Doctor.

"Oh definitely, hopefully you'll keep both your hands this time though."

The Doctor grinned at her, she rolled her eyes in response.

"Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well."

"I should be on ten percent. How's your head?"

"Still aching."

"Here, I got you this."

The Doctor took off the ridiculous ruff and put it around Shakespeare's neck. Rose and Martha grinned at the sight of the playwright in his signature accessory.

"Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might want to keep it. It suits you."

"What about the play?" Martha asked.

"Gone. I looked all over. Every single copy of Love's Labours Won went up in the sky."

"Good riddance to that trouble." Rose commented lightly, from where she was leaning against a support beam.

"My lost masterpiece."

"You could write it up again." Martha suggested.

A now familiar spike of panic jabbed at Rose's heart at the thought.

"Yeah, better not, Will. There's still power in those words. Maybe it should best stay forgotten."

"Oh, but I've got new ideas. Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons, in memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."

Blimey had Rose really paid so little attention in her English classes that she'd misremembered the title of one of Shakespeare's most famous plays.

"Hamnet?" So obviously she wasn't wrong, if Martha's confusion was anything to go by.

"That's him."

"Hamnet?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Anyway, time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot can scream for all eternity, and I've got to take Martha back to Freedonia." The Doctor stepped in before they revealed anymore to the genius.

"You mean travel on through time and space."

Okay so maybe that plan was a lost cause. How much had the wordsmith seen? Were their lies really that transparent? The Doctor looked equally baffled by the revelation.

"You what?"

"You're from another world like the Carrionites, Martha is from the future, and Rose is somewhere in between. It's not hard to work out."

Rose's brows furrowed in confusion. 'In between' what the hell did that mean? Was this in reference to their little conversation yesterday?

The Doctor however, did not seem fazed by this and was instead lost in admiration for his hero.

"That's incredible. You are incredible."

"We're alike in many ways, Doctor. Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate."

The trios eyes widened as they recognised the famous sonnet, the famous sonnet composed for Martha it would seem. Time travel really was a funny old thing.

Shakespeare was cut off from his recital by two of the actors from last night.

"Will!"

Rose was almost glad for the interruption, she wasn't sure she could take any more surprises from the great wordsmith.

"Will, you'll never believe it. She's here! She's turned up!"

"We're the talk of the town. She heard about last night. She wants us to perform it again."

"Who?" Martha asked baffled.

The actor seemed to think Martha was being ridiculous but explained anyway. "Her Majesty. She's here."

A fanfare sounded as Queen Elizabeth entered flanked by two pikemen. She looked older than in any of the portraits Rose had ever seen of her.

"Queen Elizabeth the First!"

"Doctor?" The Queen hissed, to the Doctor's great confusion.

"What?"

"My sworn enemy and his harlot Rose."

"What?" Rose and the Doctor crowed in unison.

"Off with his head!"

"What?" The Doctor echoed once more, in mounting confusion and disbelief.

"Never mind what, just run!"

"Yep, I'm with Martha on this one." Rose agreed grabbing the Doctor's coat sleeve as they ran from the globe.

"See you, Will, and thanks." Martha called back over her shoulder as they ran.

"Stop that pernicious Doctor and his wife."

Shakespeare's laughter echoed through the globe as the travellers legged it through the cobbled streets of London towards the TARDIS and away from their armed pursuers.

"Stop in the name of the Queen!" One of the pikemen bellowed.

Rose rolled her eyes at the order, as if anyone would listen to that. They didn't even grace them with a look back over their shoulders.

"What have you two done to upset her?" Martha asked as they neared the TARDIS.

"Are we really going to piss off every member of the Royal family we run into?"

"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you." The girls thundered past the Doctor into the TARDIS as he grinned at the prospect of a future adventure that awaited them. "Still, can't wait to find out. That's something to look forward to. Ooo!"

The pikemen raised their bows prepared to shoot the Doctor, he ducked inside at the last minute, the arrow stuck in the wood of the door instead. The pikemen watched baffled as the box housing their targets disappeared before their eyes, each wondering how the hell they're going to explain this one to their Queen.

A/N: First update of the year, whoop whoop, even if it is like a month late oops. So what did you guys think? I'll admit I was a little distracted by the ny's special during the last part of this chapter so its not great. I'm not happy with this chapter but I just wanted to get it posted, I'll likely fix it at a later date, but for now this is what we've got. Anyway, let me know your thoughts in the comments, what you liked, what you didn't, what you think I should change. I'm all ears. See ya next chapter.