Chapter Fifty-Eight
"This is the one here," Ric said to Damon. "The records show this was paid three months in advance."
"This is where it gets tricky. I may or may not be able to get in."
"How does that work? You always have to be invited in?"
"By the owner or person of entitlement. Short term rentals and hotels are a bit of a gray area. You kinda gotta play it by ear."
Damon went up to the door and messed with the knob. The door was locked. He heard Alaric scoff and looked back. "What?"
"Could we not kill anyone tonight?"
"You just brought me along for my company?"
Damon used his vampire strength to break the locking mechanism and ushered Ric inside.
"Doesn't look like anyone's home," the teacher said.
Ric looked back at Damon, and Damon studied the doorway. He cautiously slipped his foot inside. No invite needed.
"Yeah, I'm good. No permanent resident, apparently."
They walked through the living room - everything seemed normal. Damon went one way towards the kitchen and Ric went down the hallway towards what were probably the bedrooms.
Damon went straight for the fridge. There were blood bags, so that was why he hadn't needed an invitation. A human didn't live here; a vampire did. Maybe Isobel.
"Uh, Ric. We have company."
Damon then heard sounds of a struggle and went to investigate. Ric was up against the wall and a vampire was choking him. But Ric was resourceful. He had spiked wooden knuckles - kind of like brass knuckles only these were made to fight vampires with - and had punched the vampire in the stomach. Damon pushed him to the floor.
"Boys, boys, boys. That's enough." Damon looked at the guy on the floor. He had dark blond hair, spiked. "I know you. Your name is Henry; you were in the tomb."
"Yes, sir." Henry looked between Damon and Ric. "What're you doing here?"
Damon went on to explain about the council and John Gilbert - it turned out Henry already knew about John.
"So, how do you know John?" Henry asked.
"Well, I've known him for years. He's a good friend. How do you know him?"
"I met him right after I got out of the tomb. He's been helping me out."
"Helping you out how?" Ric asked.
Henry led them to the kitchen and offered Damon some blood. Damon accepted.
"John's helping me adapt. It's a whole new world. Cars, computers. There's so much to learn. He helped me get this place."
"So do you live here alone? Or, uh, is there someone else here?" Ric asked.
Henry looked at him suspiciously and Damon gave Ric a dark look.
"That's my friends' very passive-aggressive way of asking do you know a woman named Isobel?"
"Uh, no. No. I don't know an Isobel. I know John. He's my only real friend. He really showed me the ropes. How to use a microwave, separate my whites."
John was being nice to this guy, which begged the question . . . what did John want from him?
"What do you do for him?" Ric asked.
"Keep an eye on things with the others."
"The others?"
"From the tomb," Henry specified. "They're still pissed at the founding families for trying to burn them alive. I mean, I'm cool, but those tomb boys, they want revenge."
"What does John want with them?"
"He's just keeping an eye on them, you know, making sure they stay out of trouble."
"Well, that's John," Damon said. "He's such a do-gooder."
Damon had thought the tomb vampires were gone, but according to what he'd just found out he was wrong.
Henry's cell phone rang and, ironically enough, it was John.
"Oh, hey," Damon said. "Let me talk to him."
"A'right. Yeah."
Henry was so naive. Damon remembered being that way once. Henry handed him the phone and Damon let it ring a few times.
"Are you . . . gonna answer that?"
Damon looked at Ric. "Am I gonna . . . answer that?"
Ric shook his head. Henry got suspicious again. Damon figured he was probably wondering whether he should stay or leave.
"What's goin' on?" Henry asked.
Neither Damon nor Ric answered, so Henry went for Ric - him being human - and Damon grabbed Henry and turned him away from Ric, then Ric staked Henry through the back and Henry fell to the floor.
"Let's not kill anyone tonight. Your words, just pointin' that out," Damon said and Ric glared a little but didn't say anything. "And why didn't you mention you had your weapons with you?"
Ric shrugged. "Thought you might take it the wrong way. I did try to kill you once."
"Yes, you did."
Ric looked down at the now mummified body of Henry "What're we doing with him?"
"Leaving him for John to find. He'll realize something's wrong if no one answers enough times." In a moment of impulsive curiosity Damon asked, "Why did you bring me with you? Why did you come to me with this . . . new information?"
Ric was silent for a few seconds and then the teacher shrugged. "I don't know. You were stressed out of your head the other day, thought you could use a distraction. Maybe I shouldn't nave bothered." Ric stepped over Henry's body. "I'm gonna look around some more. I'll be back in a minute."
Rebecca was back down in the cellar with Elena. She thought Elena was being an idiot for confronting Stefan again after what had happened, but she wasn't going to leave Elena alone with him, either.
"I could be at those bars in a flash, and you'd be dead," Stefan said.
"Yeah, you could . . . but you won't," Elena said, sounding sure of herself.
Rebecca remembered that even after Damon had attacked her that she hadn't been afraid of him. She had known he hadn't meant to hurt her and that he wouldn't have done it if he hadn't been starving. She wondered if that was how Elena was feeling - only, instead of Stefan starving . . . Stefan was just nuts.
"Please just go away," Stefan said. "I don't want you here."
Elena looked at Rebecca and then at the door they were standing behind. Rebecca knew what Elena was thinking even before the brunette unlocked the door.
"Elena, didn't you learn the last time?"
"What're you doing?" Stefan asked. "Get out of here."
"No," Elena said firmly.
Rebecca shook her head in disbelief. Sometimes she thought Elena was too stupid to live. She didn't know how her friend had survived this long being so retarded.
"You're taking a stupid risk. I could hurt you."
"Then I'm stupid," Elena said.
"That's the truest thing you've said all year," Rebecca muttered.
She watched Elena pick up the still untouched bottle of blood and tell Stefan he needed to drink. Stefan knocked it out of her hand and told her to leave.
"No," Elena said again.
Stefan collapsed onto the cot and Elena looked at him in annoyance. Maybe she was finally fed up enough to blame Stefan and not herself.
Elena sat beside Stefan and said, "Talk to me, Stefan. Why're you doing this?"
"I'm making the decision I should've made years ago."
"What're you talking about?"
"You have to feed in order to complete the transition. It was a choice I shouldn't have made."
"Oh, my God," Rebecca said. "Should have, could have, would have. Nothing you say right now is going to change anything. Stop complaining and get over it."
"Becca . . ." Elena said. "Leave. Now. I get that you have no sympathy for Stefan right now, but you're not helping. Go."
"Fine," Rebecca agreed. She didn't want to sit through Stefan's pity party anyway. She might just stake him to shut him up.
Couldn't Elena see he was trying to make her feel sorry for him? He had messed up and now instead of owning up to the fact that he was a vampire he was just making excuses so he could get out of it.
Rebecca went back upstairs. If Stefan attacked Elena then so be it. Elena had gone into the room of her own free will, knowing it was stupid to do so; it was no longer Rebecca's problem.
She still listened for the tell-tale sign of Stefan losing control, but all she heard was Stefan telling her about how he'd transitioned by killing his father. Granted, that had been an accident, and self-defense. Stefan had only just woken up and he'd wanted to say good-bye to Giuseppe, but when he'd arrived at the house to do so, he'd found out that Giuseppe had been the one to kill him and Damon. Then Giuseppe had come after him with a stake and Stefan had reacted instinctively to protect himself. Giuseppe had begun to bleed and the rest was history.
"How can you even look at me right now?" Stefan asked.
"You need to be able to talk about these things, Stefan," Elena assured. "I need to hear them. From you, not from everyone else. Come upstairs. We can talk some more and we'll keep talking as long as you need."
"You're so sure I'm ready?"
"And when you feel the same way . . . I'll be upstairs."
When Elena got to Rebecca, Elena told her that she'd left the daylight ring downstairs for Stefan to decide what to do with. She'd given him a choice.
"Did you find anything yet?" Damon asked Ric as the teacher walked into the living room of the house they were in.
"No. The place is - the place is clean."
Damon tossed him a bottle of beer. "Well, I found this behind the blood in the fridge."
Ric popped the top. "Oh, man, this was a real dead end."
"I wouldn't beat myself up over it, man." Damon knew what it was like, searching for something he had close to no chance of finding. "What'd you think you were gonna find, huh? Isobel with a cigar and slippers?"
Damon looked at Ric with something akin to sympathy. He had looked and looked for ways of getting back to Rebecca sooner after she'd disappeared. He knew what it was like to miss someone so much he'd do anything to get back to them. That was how he'd become the way he was now. He never would've survived so long had he stayed the way he'd been when he'd been human.
Ric chuckled as Damon began going through the mail that was sitting on a desk table.
"Oh, man, I -" Damon thought Ric's tone held serious self-condemnation "- I gotta stop this. I can't - I can't keep searching for her."
"Really? After only two years?" Damon pulled a chair over and sat on it backwards, one leg on either side of the seat. "That's actually . . . moderately healthy."
Ric sighed. "I mean, no answer is enough. I keep thinking I wanna know why. When? You know, the precise moment when my wife decided life with me wasn't enough."
"She charmed me, you're wife, Isobel. She talked a good game. She was smart. She had this excitement in her eyes. Should've know there was something different about her. Had to be some reason I didn't kill her."
"That's enough, Damon. I don't wanna hear anymore. I just don't wanna waste anymore of my life searching for answers that I really don't want."
Ric stood up, which Damon guessed meant he was ready to go. They left Henry there for John to find, like they'd planned, and went to Ric's car.
"I'm through with Isobel," Ric said. "I'm done with all of this."
Rebecca was sitting on the couch with Elena, when Damon got back. She'd missed him. Just this short amount of time had felt like days. More than that, though, was the fact that even though she'd threatened to kill Stefan she knew she wouldn't have without Damon's permission, so she'd wanted Damon here to deal with Stefan.
"Ugh, you're still here?" he asked Elena, teasing.
"Were you expecting anything else?"
"Nope." Damon sat beside Rebecca, in between her and Elena. Chelsea was on Rebecca's lap; Elena's diary was on the brunette's.
"So . . . how was the errand?"
"Futile. Although, I think I witnessed the teacher having an existential crisis. Has Stefan eaten yet?"
"I thought you didn't care," Elena reminded him.
"Chalk it up to morbid curiosity."
"I think he's getting there. Rebecca wasn't a big help; she makes him feel even guiltier."
Rebecca shrugged. "Stefan killed me. He deserves to feel that guilt." Then she glared. "And I was too helping. I told him to get over it."
Now Elena was looking at Damon. "It also doesn't help that you've spent the last 145 years punishing him for attacking Rebecca."
Rebecca glared at Elena. How was that Damon's fault?
"This is my fault now?"
"No," Elena said, "it's no one's fault, Damon. I'm just saying you're not exactly innocent in all this. You've made it your life's mission to make him miserable."
Damon stood up. Rebecca could tell he was hurt and a little frustrated.
"Let me ask you a question. In all this important soul-searching and cleansing of the demons of Stefan's past . . . did you ever manage to get the rest of the story?"
"He said there was more," Elena said.
"Yeah, that's an understatement."
Instead of divulging any information, Damon began to walk out of the room and toward the stairs.
"Damon," Elena said, calling him back.
"Good going, Elena," Rebecca said. "Now he's in a bad mood. Here, take Chelsea."
Rebecca was sure Damon wouldn't hurt Chelsea no matter what mood he was in, but she needed to be alone with Damon.
"Becca, what's he talking about?"
"None of your business, Elena. Stay here."
Damon was upstairs, getting ready to pitch a fit, when Rebecca came into the room.
"She doesn't know, Damon. I never told her what happened. It wasn't my story to tell. You need to be the one to do it."
Damon had been about to be like a rock star trashing the room he was in - it was better than going out and killing someone.
"You don't have to tell her if you don't want to, Damon. It's up to you. But she won't understand unless she knows."
Damon knew that was true, but he wished people would stop blaming him for something his brother had done. But nobody knew about Stefan forcing him to turn except for Rebecca and that was only because she'd been there.
He felt Rebecca take his face in her hands. Her hands were gentle and her face was sympathetic and compassionate.
"It doesn't matter what she thinks, Damon. It only matters what you think." Rebecca muttered. "Let her think whatever she wants if you don't feel like clearing anything up."
Damon remembered Rebecca telling him something similar when he'd been human; they'd been sitting by the pond at the original Salvatore house. She'd basically told him he should do whatever he wanted; if it made him happy, it didn't matter what anyone else thought.
The problem was that Damon did care about what certain people thought about him. Rebecca mostly, but Elena too, to a certain extent. The only problem with Elena was that she'd been brainwashed to believe all the things Stefan said to her.
To Stefan, Damon had been a monster. He'd always let Stefan provoke him into doing something . . . wrong . . . it had made Damon look like the bad guy, while Stefan came away looking like the white knight.
Maybe it was time to burst Elena's bubble about her boyfriend.
"I need a drink," Damon muttered.
Rebecca nodded, understanding. "Come downstairs. We can talk this out. Take as long as you need."
It struck Rebecca as weird that she'd told Damon pretty much the exact same thing Elena had said to Stefan. They could talk for however long he needed to. They would make Elena understand how Damon, ruthless as he could be, hadn't wanted to become what he was.
Damon began drinking as soon as he got downstairs. At first he talked about stuff that didn't really matter; he was giving himself time to feel the effects of the alcohol. He started the story with Katherine being captured. Whether he'd been compelled or not, that was where everything had started.
Rebecca had gotten involved because of him. He, Stefan, and Rebecca had tried to help Katherine, and Rebecca had only done it for him; it had turned out that Katherine hadn't needed any help. She'd never let herself be captured in the first place.
Stefan and Damon had been shot in the process of helping her and had died. They'd had Katherine's blood in their systems so they had woken back up with the choice of feeding and changing or not feeding and really dying.
"I didn't want to change," Damon admitted. "Becca couldn't stay and I knew how long I'd have to wait to see her again. It wasn't what I wanted."
He went on to explain how Rebecca had been attacked by Stefan and how Stefan had brought her, the only person who had meant anything to him at that point in his life, for him to feed on.
"From the moment Stefan had his first taste of human blood . . . he was a different person. I suppose I should thank him. It's been a hell of a ride."
Damon's voice was starting to slur; the alcohol was working.
"Oh, my God," Elena said. "He said he wanted to die. That's why he won't feed. Now I understand why, but -"
"His choice," Damon said. "If he's stupid enough to make it, so be it."
"Don't do that, okay?" Elena said, glaring. "Don't pretend like you don't care."
She walked away and Damon drunkenly said, "Where're you goin'?"
"Stefan," Elena answered. "I need to talk to him."
"Of course you do," Rebecca muttered. It wasn't like Damon had revealed one of his deepest secrets or anything.
Within a minute Elena was back. "Stefan's gone. He didn't take his ring with him."
It clicked instantly what that meant. Stefan had gone somewhere to wait for the sun to rise. He was really going to kill himself. He really did think he should've died that night 145 years ago. He thought he should've let Damon die, too. But he hadn't.
"I have to go. I have to find him," Elena said.
"You don't even know where he is," Damon said.
"Oh, I think I do. The quarry. That's where everything started. I'm not gonna let him die; it won't change anything that happened."
Rebecca knew that Stefan blamed himself for all the things Damon had done. Every person Damon had hurt, every single life that had been lost . . .
Stefan was such a drama queen.
Elena grabbed her car keys and ran out the door.
"Don't you think we should -"
"He won't hurt her," Damon said, downing another glass of bourbon.
Rebecca grabbed the hand with the glass in it and slipped the glass out of it. "You don't need this."
"Oh, on the contrary, I need it very much." He made a grab for it, but Rebecca hid it behind her back.
She knew that instead of doing things the easy way and getting a new glass, Damon would try to wrestle the glass away from her. So she backed away and Damon followed.
Sarah was still in the house, and she had never even tried to hurt Chelsea, who was asleep just now, so Rebecca felt close to no anxiety about leaving her sister with the vampire.
Rebecca silently put the glass down on the closest table and then took off, shouting, "Bet you can't catch me!" as she went toward the door. She knew he'd follow if she challenged him. Damon's pride wouldn't allow him not to try now that she'd told him he couldn't catch her.
Besides that, she was giving him a distraction; one that didn't include alcohol.
She ended up in the woods with Damon right behind her; Damon was having a good time. He knew Rebecca was doing this for him, to take his mind off of things. And it was working for now.
Damon was surprised that he didn't have to hold back. He was older than Rebecca in every way, which meant he was supposed to be faster. But he wasn't. Rebecca's Slayer strength must've passed over when she died and magnified her vampire strength. It was the same with her speed, he guessed.
She seemed to be having fun, running around in the woods. She was grinning and laughing; every time he would go to grab her she would slip away. The predator part of him was very much enjoying the chase, even if he wasn't going to get blood out of it. The man part of him thought Rebecca was sweeter and lovelier than ever. He hadn't seen her smile and really be happy since before she'd been attacked by the tomb vampires.
Finally, Damon caught up with her and grabbed her around the waist to pull her back to him. She giggled as her back hit his chest. Damon remembered they used to do this when he'd been human, play cat and mouse.
"Got you," he said in her ear. "The question now becomes . . . what do we do now?"
His voice was a purr and Rebecca shivered from the tone of his voice.
"What do you wanna do?" Rebecca asked, turning around and slipping her hands up and over his shoulders.
She smiled sweetly and looked up at him through her lashes. Her emerald eyes had darkened. The chase had made both of their animal instincts' come to the surface; it made her want Damon right then just as much as he wanted her. She pushed him gently back against the nearest tree and fiercely attacked his neck with kisses and soft bites, careful not to break the skin.
Damon brought his hands down to cup her butt and pull her closer. It reminded him that she was wearing one of her delicate peasant skirts; it would be so easy to rip it off - but, alas, she needed her skirt.
He felt Rebecca's hands underneath his black woolen sweater and he groaned as her fingernails raked against his abs.
"Becca!"
"Hm?" she said, still kissing him but letting up a little.
Damon liked this, Rebecca's new assertiveness. She was able to show her sensuality and responsiveness without feeling uncomfortable about it.
"Don't stop," Damon said, grabbing her face and leading her lips to his. He realized he should be more worried about Stefan, but he also realized that Stefan wouldn't kill himself, not when Elena got there. So he didn't mind letting himself enjoy what was happening.
He was pulled away from the tree and his shirt was pushed over his head. Her mouth followed her hands, but Damon grabbed her and moved so they were on the ground now, her on top. He heard and felt as the zipper of his jeans came undone and he jerked as Rebecca took his shaft into her hands.
Damon, knowing Rebecca obviously wanted to be in control right now, decided to let her play . . . for now.
It didn't take long for him to become impatient, however. He wanted to touch and tease, too.
When Damon flipped them over, the leaves crunching beneath them, he pretty much ripped the panties from her and she giggled and gasped at the same time. Neither of them fully undressed, yet . . . there they were in the middle of the woods. A very small pang went through Damon and he paused before making the final move to fill her.
"You sure you want to do this here?"
"I'm not complaining," she muttered before claiming his mouth with her own.
So Damon had no problem continuing. Damon was glad they were going to be together forever. His quirky little Vampire-Slayer-turned vampire was quite the experimental lover as well. If it was him asking, she was usually okay with it. She knew he would never make her do anything she didn't want to.
And Rebecca was as tight as a virgin and always would be, Damon reminded himself. He hadn't overused her body when she'd been human and he'd never hurt her that way like some vampires would have.
Damon could tell when she was close because her legs began quivering and she began begging him not to stop - not to ever stop. Damon didn't know if that was within his range of abilities, but he would try his best, to keep her happy.
"You tore my underwear," Rebecca said from underneath him. She was only pretend complaining; she couldn't care less what had happened to her underwear. Not after that love-making session.
"Ugh! I'll buy you some new ones. Bunches. Just so I can rip them off of you."
Rebecca felt another thrill go through her at those words, but she knew they'd been gone long enough. An hour, around about. She wished they could stay out there longer, stay in their own little portion of the world, take Chelsea with them, and leave everything else behind.
"Damon?" she said, feeling vulnerable and young - even younger than she really was.
"Hm?"
"Once we get everything taken care of with Robert and Tina . . . I don't wanna stay here. Everything in this town is going to grow old and move on, and I'm not. I don't fit here anymore. I mean, the only people I really care about are Elena, Jeremy, Caroline and Bonnie."
Not including Chelsea, of course. But they would be taking her with them.
"Elena has Stefan; Jeremy has Anna. Caroline has Matt. And Bonnie . . . well, Bonnie doesn't really have anyone because she won't let herself associate with anyone anymore."
Damon had been helping Rebecca situate her clothing but was now taking in Rebecca's sad green eyes. Another hard fact about being a vampire had sunk in for her. The world would continue to change and move forward, but she never would. She was stuck as she was; nothing would ever really change her unless she shut her humanity out.
With her being changed so recently, it was not a good idea for her to give up things she'd had when she'd been human; it would tempt her to flip the switch and Damon didn't want that happening. But . . .
"If, when we get Robert and Tina taken care of, you still want to leave, we'll leave."
Rebecca nodded her head and Damon saw a tear fall from her jawline, the trail of it having fallen from her eye and down her cheek. He grabbed her face and thumbed away the wetness. She sniffled and closed her eyes.
"You won't be like this forever," Damon assured. "It'll level out, I promise. It'll just take some time."
Instead of running back to the boardinghouse, they walked halfway so Rebecca could get control of her emotions. Rebecca hated the mood swings. PMS was nothing compared to this. It was like she was manic depressive or something; one second she was up, the next she was down.
When they reached the boardinghouse, Stefan and Elena were already there, holding hands, heading into the parlor.
"Little boy lost," Damon muttered.
"I'll be upstairs," Elena told Stefan.
Rebecca noticed her brunette friend looking at her strangely. She probably had leaves in her hair or something. And Stefan could probably smell what they'd been doing.
"Um . . . I'm going upstairs, too. Shower, change, bed . . ."
Damon watched her leave. The recent release he'd had within Rebecca had been forgotten, for there was a new tension now that he was seeing Stefan again.
"Thank you," Stefan said.
"No, Stefan, thank you. You're back on Bambi blood, and I'm the big bad-ass brother again. All's right in the world."
Damon went to the couch and sat down, saw the invention he'd been toying with earlier and picked it up.
"No, I mean it," Stefan said, sitting beside him. "Thank you for helping her take care of me."
"You brood too much. Everything on this planet is not your fault. My actions, what I do, it's not your fault. I own them. They belong to me. You're not allowed to feel my guilt."
"Do you feel guilt?" Stefan asked curiously.
Damon hadn't realized how monumentally pissed off he'd been at Stefan until that moment. Stefan had killed Rebecca, forcing Damon to make the decision to turn her or . . . let her die, which hadn't been a decision at all, there was no choice there. And then he'd planned on killing himself, which might've been a desperate cry for attention or a cry for help; Damon wasn't sure which it was. Now here they were, talking about their feelings.
"If I wanted to, it's there," Damon admitted. Then . . . "Why Becca, Stefan? Out of all the girls in Mystic Falls, why did you have to go after her? You couldn't go suck on somebody else? I mean, did you do it to get at me? Are you still trying to take her away after all this time?"
"It wasn't about you," Stefan said firmly. "I needed help and I didn't want to go to Elena. I didn't think I could come to you. She was the only one left. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"You still killed her," Damon said, walking past Stefan and going toward the stairs.
The familiar rage that Damon had felt over the last 145 years was beginning to consume him again. He and Stefan had been trying to salvage whatever was left of their brotherhood, but now that was going to have to be put on hold. Damon had so wanted his brother back, had so wanted that relationship to reform.
He should've known it wouldn't work; the relationship had been dead for the past century and a half . . . there was no way it could just . . . reanimate itself after so long.
Rebecca was waiting for him at the door when he reached the room. She had a sympathetic look on her face; she'd had no choice but to listen to his and Stefan's conversation.
"He really did ask me for help, Damon, and he really didn't think he could come to you."
"I'm his brother. Of course he could've come to me!" he said, lashing out and knocking a lamp off the bedside table.
"Damon!" Rebecca exclaimed.
Rebecca had never been around Damon when he let his anger come out; she was shocked to find that he was scaring her. His eyes weren't seeing her there. He was lost in his rage right now.
He wouldn't hurt her, she was certain of that, but it still frightened her to see this side of him, and it wasn't until then that she realized how tightly in control Damon usually kept himself.
For him to let go now, everything must've been too much. Her being a vampire; Stefan being the one to kill her; Stefan threatening to kill himself; Damon finally telling someone what had really happened all those many years ago when he'd been forced to turn.
All these things had gotten to Damon and he hadn't been able to hold it in anymore.
Okay, so here's the newest chapter. I honestly believe that in the show Damon followed Elena to the quarry to make sure Stefan didn't hurt her and to make sure Stefan didn't kill himself, but since this is my story I changed it to where he didn't. Also, there at the end, I made Damon lash out because that's usually how he deals with his anger - he lashes out. And you never get to see how much something is hurting him or bothering him until he does so.
Hope you enjoyed!