The Outcome, an animorphs fanfic

"Ram the blade ship."

Then, there was only darkness.

CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG.

I felt my eyes open, then close.

CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG!

What the hell?

CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG!

I forced my eyes open and looked around my room.

My...bedroom?

CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG!

Then, it hit me.

It was my alarm clock.

My alarm clock? I hadn't used an alarm clock in...years.

CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG!

"Okay, okay, I'm coming! Shut up already!" I growled at it as I reached to turn it off.

Weird. My voice was higher than I remembered.

Also, my arm wasn't long enough to reach the alarm. Well, not without getting up. I groaned to myself.

CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG!

"Oh, for the love...!" I grumbled to myself.

I jumped out of bed, and slammed the "off" button on the alarm.

Silence.

Blissful silence.

Well, not quite silence. I could make out three voices downstairs. Mom's...Dad's...Tom's.

Tom's?

I did a double take. I must be hallucinating. Or, hearing things.

Tom was dead. I'd sent Rachel to kill him. He'd been dead for years, now.

But, no, that was his voice.

"Yeah, I'll see if Midget's up," I could hear him telling my parents. "He probably is by now, since his awful alarm has stopped."

"Doesn't mean he's up." Dad's voice was clear. "He could have thrown it across the room in his sleep."

Footsteps. I froze, my fingers still hovering over the alarm.

No. This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. This could not be happening.

Tom was alive? I was still living with my parents? My voice sounded the way it did when I was a kid?

Suddenly, I ran over to my mirror.

My face looked like it did when I was a kid. Well, junior high, which is the same thing when you're no longer a teenager.

Specifically, I had no visible facial hair. I ran my hand over my upper lip and chin just to be sure. Nothing. Not even a trace of stubble from having shaved recently.

My hair looked exactly like it did when I was thirteen. Not as long as Marco's, but curly, and at least a couple of inches longer than Tom's.

My bedroom door opened, and I jumped.

Tom appeared, holding out his hands in the universal (okay, universal for humans, but I wasn't going to waste time on that...) "I surrender" gesture.

"Relax, it's just me, Midget. Mom and Dad wanted to make sure you hadn't fallen off the face of the planet," he explained, his face a mixture of a grin and concern.

"Y-yeah, I'm okay," I managed to get out. Still amazed at how young my voice sounded. Before I could stop myself, I added, "Tom, what day is it?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "It's Friday."

"Okay, but, um, what's today's date?" I pressed, not managing to look at him.

He paused, but I was sure it was more because I'd asked him such an obvious question than because he didn't know the answer.

"September twenty-first," he answered, slowly and deliberately.

The math was adding up, but I still had to know...

"And...what year is it?"

Tom looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or run to our parents. Probably get them to have me committed.

"Midget, have you gone crazy?" he asked, slowly.

Yes. Probably.

When I didn't answer, he just rolled his eyes. "It's 1996, Jake."

Friday, September 21st, 1996.

It couldn't be.

I forced a smile. "Thanks. I don't know how I forgot." Yes, I did. But I wasn't going to admit that to Tom. I shrugged my shoulders. "Just been a long week, I guess."

Evidently convinced that I wasn't crazy, Tom just laughed, rumpling my hair. "Well, I did have you working like crazy doing drills for the tryouts for the last few months. You find out today if you made the team, right?"

I looked down at the ground. "Yeah. I wouldn't get my hopes up."

Tom just gave me a knowing grin. "Pretty sure you made it, based on what Coach told me yesterday."

"You're still on the team?" I blurted out.

"What? Now you think I got cut?" he teased, crossing his arms against his chest.

"No...I thought maybe you quit."

For The Sharing. Because the Yeerk in his head made him.

Tom stared at me like he was reconsidering having me committed to the looney bin. "You know I'm hoping to go pro. Quitting in high school would be pretty stupid."

"Yeah," I managed. "You're right."

There was an awkward silence, which Tom broke.

"Okay, well, you better get dressed before you miss the bus." Tom motioned towards my PJs. "Unless you want me to drive you?"

I nodded. "Right. I'm coming!"

"Great. I'll let Mom and Dad know you're alive," Tom promised.

Alive.

Right.

Five minutes later, I was downstairs eating a bowl of cereal, debating the pros and cons on taking Tom up on his offer to drive me to school. It wouldn't be any huge hassle for him, I knew. I was in junior high, while he was in high school, but the buildings weren't far apart.

Still. I normally took the bus, but I didn't know if I'd be able to act normal if I saw Rachel again after...yeah.

Or Tobias, come to think of it.

Plus, if I hitched a ride with Tom, maybe I could test the waters, figure out if I had traveled back in time several years to when all hell broke loose, or if it was just a really bad dream. Because, as far as I was concerned, the only two options were that the timeline had been reset when we crashed our ship with the blade ship...or the past several years had been a dream.

If this had been a reset, though, did that mean that the events that had played out would play out again? Would I lose my memory of what had happened over the days, weeks, and years that followed?

Already, I knew, major things had changed. Tom was still on the team, and from what I could determine, I was about to be. Not his team, of course, but the junior high one. Moreover, Tom or his Yeerk had no intention of quitting.

While I wanted to believe that this meant my older brother wasn't a Controller, it could just mean that things were a little different in this new timeline. Maybe, his Yeerk played the role of Tom a little better than Temrash. Or, the Yeerks thought that a potential NBA star on their side would be better for them than just some popular guy who did a lot of "volunteer work" for The Sharing.

Taking the bus would mean seeing my friends, but going with Tom would let me get an idea of where things were at. If this was a reset, for example, Tom and I had stayed close. Or, Tom's Yeerk and I. If there was a Yeerk in his head.

If the Yeerks were real.

If the Yeerks had invaded at all.

That was another possibility. Maybe, the Yeerks were real, but they'd never found our planet. In which case, we'd have no way to fight them, but also no responsibility. After all, you couldn't fight a race of alien slugs if they didn't bother to attack your planet.

Sure, the Hork-Bajir and Taxxons might be doomed, but Earth could be safe.

I decided to go with Tom. I could find out if he was in The Sharing, which seemed like a pretty reasonable question. I wondered if The Sharing existed in this universe. Or...did it have another name?

So much was different here...and it wasn't like I'd gotten a rule book, or even memories of the last several weeks.

I realized that I was still thinking that I was in a reset. But, what if the whole thing had never happened? Dreams could feel real until you woke up. Sure, a dream that lasted for years was unlike any other dream I'd had, but was it impossible?

Dream or reset?

Would I ever know for sure?

Right now, I needed to know what was real.

"Hey, Tom?" I asked, once I finished my cereal. "Can I take you up on that ride to school?"

He nodded from the doorway. "Sure, if you can be ready in two minutes."

Given that my book bag was next to the door, that would be easy enough.

I nodded. "Thanks!"

I took one last bite, and then Mom took my plate from me. As usual, she gave me a kiss on the cheek, and wished me a good day. Dad did the same as he headed out the door in front of us-well, minus the whole kissing part.

"Shotgun?" I asked, hopefully, once we were in the driveway.

"Sure. You're too big to have to sit in the back," he grinned. "Any tests today?"

I frowned as I buckled myself in. Had there been any tests that day?

If so, I was probably destined to flunk them. I might remember (or dreamt I remembered) the past several years fighting the Yeerks, but I didn't that would translate into much recall when it came to math or science or any of the other subjects I had to take.

"I don't think so," I answered, carefully.

Tom rolled his eyes at me. "Midget, you know that when you make the team, you're not going to have nearly as much time to study or hang out with Marco as you do now."

"If, not when," I countered.

"When," he insisted.

I stared at my shoes. At least, here I could be completely honest. "I just don't want you to be disappointed if I don't make it," I mumbled.

I felt Tom's hand on my shoulder. "That's not gonna happen, Jake."

"Which part?" I pressed.

"Both." I heard him sigh. "But look, if it makes you feel better, if you don't make the team, I won't be angry or anything, okay? You know that what matters most in sports is giving it your all and learning and getting better, right? I mean, I saw how hard you practiced with me over the summer. Okay?"

The thing was, I didn't even remember the summer, or practicing with Tom.

Well, actually, now that he mentioned it, I could recall pieces of memories of practicing with Tom. But they were far off, and I didn't know if they were real, or if I just wanted them to be real.

A new possibility came to me. What if I'd dreamed everything, but hit my head in my sleep, and lost all of my memories from the past few months, and mixed them up with the dream ones?

Could that even happen?

Realizing that Tom was waiting for an answer, I forced a grin. "Yeah."

"Don't worry so much. Anyway," Tom joked, "if you can't go pro like me, and your grades aren't good enough for college, you just need to remember to ask people if they want fries with that."

"Ha ha," I deadpanned.

Tom continued the drive, and at the next red light, I figured I might as well rip the bandaid off.

"Hey, Tom?" I asked, as I felt my heart rate accelerate considerably.

"Yeah?" He turned to me.

"Have you ever heard of this group called The Sharing?"

There. I'd said it.

Tom raised his eyebrows. "Um, no." After a pause, he added, "Why? Is that a club at your school?"

I shook my head.

"The Sharing," he mused. "Sounds kind of lame. Like another way of saying Show and Tell at preschool."

"Yeah, that does sound like a dumb name for a group," I agreed, forcing a laugh.

All right. It was okay. There was no Sharing. Tom wasn't a member. He wasn't a Controller.

I could relax.

At the next red light, he spoke up again. "You know what group is really cool, though? The Caring."

Whatever a heart attack felt like, I was sure I was about to have one.

I literally could not breathe. I was sure that my face was super red.

Thankfully, when Tom noticed I didn't react, he turned to face me.

"Jake? JAKE! Are you okay?" he suddenly shouted.

I tried to nod. "T-the Caring?" I managed.

No. No. NO. The Yeerks were real, they were just using another name.

Tom was a Controller.

Except...

He just rolled his eyes at me. "It was a joke, Midget. No, as far as I am aware, there's no group called The Caring." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? You've been acting weird all this morning."

A joke.

Right.

I forced a laugh. "Just nerves, I guess."

For some reason, Tom didn't look convinced. "Jake, you know that if there's anything going on, you can talk to me about it."

Right, Tom. I think you might have an alien living inside your head, but I don't know for sure if said aliens exist or even discovered this planet, so excuse me if I just freak out mentally in the meantime.

"I know," I managed. "Thanks."

He gave my shoulder another squeeze.

We made the rest of the trip in silence, but as it was only another minute or so until Tom would drop me off, that wasn't saying a whole lot.

"Thanks for the ride!" I told him, forcing a smile as I got out.

"Pick you up later?" he wanted to know. "We can grab ice cream to either celebrate or figure out ways for you to make the team next year."

"Sure!"

I tried to sound enthusiastic. And really, I would have been-if I just knew for sure what was really going on.

I fumbled my way through my classes that day. Thankfully, there were no tests, just lots of notes to take, and I could get anything I was too dazed to get down from Marco or Rachel or Cassie later. By the time the last bell rang, I decided that I'd need to retrace my steps from that fateful night when we became Animorphs.

We'd walk through the abandoned construction site (was it still abandoned? Or a construction site?) and either meet Elfangor...or we wouldn't.

If we did, and he gave us the power to morph, well, at least I had some experience on my side. I could try to not make some of the mistakes I'd made before.

Maybe even free Tom this time around, if he was a Controller.

If we didn't meet him?

I mean, maybe, the Yeerks were still out there, but I didn't think there would be any way to fight them without the morphing power. I knew that, if there was a Yeerk front, it wasn't called The Sharing, and it might be more secretive than open. In fact, it could be that they weren't trying to recruit normal people, but higher ups.

Then again, maybe the invasion was taking place in another city, another state.

Another country, even.

Didn't India and China have at least a billion people?

Right. One thing at a time.

Have ice cream with Tom. Go to the mall with Marco. Meet Elfangor-or not.

Right now, I just needed to relax and follow the plan.

Believe it or not, I almost forgot to check the results from the tryouts at the end of the day, but I remembered just in time.

My name was there. I'd even gotten Tom's old position.

In spite of my nerves, I managed a grin.

In this universe, I'd be part of the basketball team.

Sure, I knew I'd never be as good as Tom, but I'd made it to the team.

Plus, I'd gotten his position.

He'd be so proud.

Tom was waiting by Dad's car, waving and grinning at me.

"So?" he greeted, ruffling my hair. "Coach just told me. And my old position, too. Great job, Midget!"

"Aww," I half complained, but unable to hide my own grin. "I wanted to be the one to tell you."

"Don't blame him. I wouldn't stop nagging him before gym today," Tom explained, his own smile getting even larger. "Not that I had any doubt that you'd make it."

"Well, I couldn't have done it without your help," I told him. "You know that."

Tom chuckled. "I wouldn't say that. You still have a ways to go, but practice is almost more important than raw talent. You know about the ten thousand hours rule?"

I shook my head, and we made our way into Dad's car.

On the way to the Dairy Queen, he explained it.

After dinner, I saw Marco heading over to my house. I remembered that, until his mom had died, he'd lived nearby. Since his dad was nowhere to be seen, and the apartment was way too far to walk from, I figured that she might be alive.

Or, rather, that the Yeerks hadn't gotten her.

Or, if they had got her, she was playing the role of Marco's mom as well as Visser One.

Or whatever role her Yeerk played in this reset.

We played a few different video games at the arcade for awhile, stopping only after we both ran out of quarters.

"Hey, man. I heard about the team," he spoke up, as we headed out of the mall. "Congrats. Bet Tom's over the moon, what with all that time he spent helping you practice."

I grinned, remembering. "Yeah, he's pretty pumped."

We joined up with Tobias on the way back home. He looked relieved to see us, explaining that his mom had dropped him off after school, but she had to work a late shift at work.

Okay. So, in this universe, he had a family. Or, at least, had his mom.

I wondered...did the kids still bully him at school? The memory of seeing him in a toilet seat felt more like something out of a dream than anything that had really happened.

I wasn't surprised to see Cassie and Rachel, but I was taken aback when Melissa Chapman was with them. This hadn't happened before. If we met Elfangor, would she become one of us? How would that work out, with the chance that both of her parents were Controllers?

I didn't make the mistake of suggesting to them that they shouldn't walk home alone, being girls. Instead, I just asked if they were headed back to Rachel's house, and she told us that they were.

So, it made sense for us to walk together as a group.

Cassie walked next to me, and I almost took her hand, but lost my nerve at the last moment. She seemed to be able to tell, because she gave me that quiet, knowing smile of hers.

"Which way you want to go? The long one, or through the construction site?" Marco asked, a few moments later.

Well, this was it. You know how sometimes you can trace the way your life turned out by that one decision that you made? Something that might not have seemed to be any big deal at the time, but looking back, it changed everything?

Okay.

This was it.

It would be the second time I'd made the decision.

"Let's go through the construction site," I suggested.

Okay. Any minute now, it would happen. Or wouldn't.

How I felt earlier when Tom joked about The Caring?

That was nothing compared to how I felt right now.

It wasn't that everyone else was acting normal. That is, the way they'd been acting about five minutes ago. But this was mostly because we all knew that there could be drug dealers or murderers hiding out in the construction site.

It was a dumb decision to take the shortcut, just to shave off a few minutes on the route home.

Dumber to do so a second time.

I kept looking around, keeping an eye out for any landed alien space ships or aliens. If Marco or Cassie or anyone else thought that I looked strange, they probably assumed I was keeping an eye out for axe murderers.

We walked. And walked. And walked.

And then...we were back on the main road.

We didn't meet Elfangor.

Had we arrived too late? Too early?

Maybe, we wouldn't have met him no matter what time we arrived.

Was he even real? Was any of this? Was I dreaming now?

Had I just been dreaming before?

I couldn't help but feel deflated. Hadn't I done what I was supposed to do?

Was I being given a reprieve, a second chance at a normal life?

If so, was I supposed to go my entire life wondering, not saying anything to anyone?

I couldn't tell Marco, especially once I saw him arrive home, greeted by his parents.

Not Rachel. Definitely not Tobias.

Not Cassie. No way. I was not going to tell Cassie and have her think I was crazy.

But maybe?

It was insane. Beyond insane. If I told him, and if the invasion was real, he could infest me.

Then again, if the invasion was real, I had no way to defend myself, and no idea who was the enemy this time around.

Every time I joined anything, even the team, I would wonder if it was a Yeerk front.

I'd lived with this uncertainty, this anxiety, since I'd woken up this morning.

If it got me infested...at least I'd know for sure.

Tom was in his room, laying on his back, reading a book. His door was half open, but I knocked, anyway.

"Come in!" he called, not looking up.

Taking a deep breath, I entered his room.

Wondered if this was the last time I'd do it of my own accord.

Wondered if this would be that second time where my life would consist of a "before" and "after". If I'd look back on this moment as the one that changed everything.

"H-hey, Tom," I greeted, trying to smile.

"Hey, Midget." He put down his book. "What's up?"

"Um..." I paused, just for a second. "Can we talk?" I nodded at the door. "Privately?"

He nodded, concern all over his face. "Sure, Jake." After I'd closed the door, he sat up, then motioned for me to sit down. "Everything okay?"

"I'm...not sure," I admitted.

Tom put an arm around me, not pressing me, just waiting for me to speak.

I told him everything.

Everything.

Elfangor. The Yeerks. The Sharing. Morphing. Saving the world-but getting him and Rachel killed.

Looking back, there were probably a few things I left out. Not on purpose. But when you've been fighting a war-or dream about fighting a war-for a few years, and then spend even more years living with the aftermath, you're not going to remember every battle.

At least, not at once.

At first, I wasn't sure that Tom believed me. Heck, I wasn't sure that I would have believed me.

He let me talk. And talk. And talk. When I got to the point when I'd been infested with his old Yeerk, I felt his arms around my shoulders, and then a hand wiping away tears that must have fallen.

By the time I got to the part when I had sent Rachel to kill him, I was bawling like a baby.

Afterwards, he just held me.

"Tom?" I asked, finally.

He kept holding me, but he didn't say anything.

"Tom?" I repeated. "Do you believe me?" Then, "Do you think it happened?"

Tom moved his hands to my shoulders, and I made myself look up. I saw that Tom's face was covered in tears.

"It happened, Jake." His face was tight, but his hold on my shoulders was gentle.

"You mean...you believe that I think it happened?" I asked, confused.

"No. I mean, it happened." Tom sighed, and it was like he'd been holding his breath the whole time. "I remember it all."

For the third time today, I was sure I was going to have a heart attack.

"You remember it all?" I practically croaked.

He swallowed, lifting his hands from my shoulders, but wrapping one around my back. Instinctively, I leaned into him.

"Not all at once," Tom explained. "When I woke up, this morning, it was like I'd forgotten how to move. I remembered the last week or so, like helping you practice for tryouts, but I also remembered..." He shuddered. "Him."

His Yeerk.

"When you asked about The Sharing, it was like a wall broke down. Everything came back. Of course, I tried to hide it, so I made some joke about The Caring," Tom recalled.

"And nearly gave me a heart attack," I pointed out.

Tom rolled his eyes. "You nearly gave me one when you asked about The Sharing and all the memories came back!"

I sighed. "Sorry."

Tom shook his head. "No, I get it. You've been living in this one world, and then, suddenly, you wake up and everything's..."

"Backwards. Kind of. I mean, I was thirteen again." I frowned. "I am thirteen."

"So, you tried to figure out what was going on." Tom sighed. "You should have heard me today. If you thought you were going crazy...let's just say I'm surprised that Coach didn't throw me off the team, because I'm sure he figured I'd gone insane."

"You hid it better than I did. Honestly," I told him.

"Outwardly, maybe. Helped that I had a slug in my head for three years and couldn't even blink on my own. That does something with your facial features, you know? At least, in the beginning." Tom sighed again. "Talking, moving. It's starting to feel normal again. Maybe, it's because, whatever happened, I'm where I was when you met Elfangor, instead of at the end of the war. I could hardly even move on my own, by then."

I could feel my throat close up. "I should have saved you."

Tom pulled me into a long hug. "When the second brain slug figured out it was you guys, I was furious for a week because you didn't save me. The things I called you in my head...but, eventually, I realized that it probably killed you to go through that. Especially after slug number one infested me. I mean...Midget...you were a kid. You were all kids. Could you have saved me? Probably, yeah. But, as the slugs got more powerful, you must have known that the only surefire way of doing so was to win the war."

That pretty much summed it up, and I nodded.

"When they did the blood drive...if we had gotten you out a day earlier..."

Tom shook his head. "I know. I get it. Look, maybe it's because I'm free now, but honestly, Jake, I don't blame you. Well," he managed a grin. "Not completely. I might throw it in your face every once in awhile, but trust me, I understand."

"Then, you forgive me?" I pressed.

He hugged me, tightly. "You bet, Midget."

At Tom's insistence, I stayed with him that night. Even though I was thirteen and he was sixteen.

Tom even rubbed my back for awhile.

Then, he wrapped me in a bear hug like he used to when I was a kid and had a nightmare, and would go to him for comfort. He tucked us both in under the covers.

For the first time in nearly a decade, I felt completely safe and at peace.

When I opened my eyes the next day, it was still dark out, and I could feel Tom getting back into bed, wrapping his arms around me again.

"You okay?" I mumbled.

"Sorry. Nature called," he laughed.

"And...you're still you?" I asked, sleepily, turning to face him.

Tom grinned, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "Still me. Just me, too."

I readjusted myself so that I was nestled in next to Tom. In response, he wrapped both arms around me again, hugging me tightly against him. After a few minutes, I voiced the question that was still on my mind.

"Tom?" I whispered.

"Yeah, Jake?" he asked, gently.

"Why do you think it happened?" I wondered.

I felt him shrug. "Maybe, whoever did this figured that we should have a chance at a normal life. Maybe, there was a reset, and the slugs never found Earth." He paused. "Does it matter? In the end, we're both free."

It was my turn to shrug. "I'm not complaining. I'm glad, you know? That you're back, that there aren't brain slugs..." I hesitated. "I just kind of wish I knew why."

Tom laughed. "I'm not saying that I don't. But, you know? I figure, we have another chance at life, and when I was a slave, that was pretty much all I wanted."

"Same here." I yawned. "Guess we shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth?"

"Pretty much." Tom stroked my hair, again. "But, hey. If you ever want to talk about what happened...I'm here."

"Me too, okay?" It felt important for him to know that. I didn't want Tom to think he had to suffer in silence for my sake. "I figure, you know? We're probably the only ones who remember, and, well..."

Tom nodded. "Honestly, Midget, right now, I kind of want to stuff that life away. Maybe, forever. But if things change, I'll let you know." He paused, then added, "Thanks, though."

It was my turn to nod. "Okay. I get it."

I did, too.

A moment later, just before I was about to fall asleep again, Tom spoke up.

"Hey, Jake?"

"Yeah, Tom?"

"I'm so proud of you." He gave me a little nudge. "You did save the world."

I felt a grin on my face. "Thanks, Tom."

"Now," he teased, "we just got to work on your jump shot!"

Well, I guess, when you compare that to fighting the Yeerk empire...

The End

Author's Note:

This idea came to me fairly recently, but the ending was going to be completely different. I can thank Tom for his input there, I suppose!

Even though there's evidence to support the fan theory that the Animorphs survived the last battle, I've always held to the notion that they died.

In this "reset"-which is basically what it is-you could make the argument that both things occurred.

I figure that only Jake remembering is consistent with canon, but Tom remembering was a surprise. Again, you don't argue with what your characters want.

Although it didn't seem important enough to put in the story, the "ten thousand hours" rule is basically a theory that you need ten thousand hours of concentrated practice/learning in order to master a skill. So, if you want to become an expert at computers, you would spend that amount of time studying them and getting hands on experience. Same with learning an instrument. It's not exactly a definitive law for mastering a skill, but given Tom's skill level and his time on the basketball team, it's not unreasonable to think that he would have learned about it. One reason the ten thousand hour theory is popular is because it affirms the idea that there's not a significant difference between people with an apparent skill set and those without. Tom implicitly acknowledges that he falls into the first group, but tells Jake that with enough time and practice, he can still become great at basketball.

As always: if you would take a moment to leave feedback, I'd greatly appreciate it.