x

The Purity of Sin

Sixteen

One minute became near ten as Keith couldn't find it in him to pull away. Lance's shivering had subsided a bit, but he was still wracked with tremors from pain and the only thing that seemed to still them was when Keith tightened his hold.

But they did need to move and quickly. Smearing Lance's blood all over the cliff face had not been a part of the plan and no doubt the Mackans would be able to more easily tell now where they had gone. The best thing they could do was get as far away from this section of cliff as they could, move more east towards the Lions, and put distance between them and the blood.

That meant that Lance needed to get cleaned up first though because he was most definitely bleeding. A lot.

Keith didn't move Lance from where he'd pulled the other boy's torso over his lap, but he did release his arms so he could gather the rope and subsequent cloth pieces. Clumsy, stiff hands untied a piece and he wrapped it as best he could around his own raw hands now, made worse from the constant pulling on the rope.

Still, in the grand scheme of things when all he was suffering were still some slightly damaged hands after all they'd been through he realized how lucky he was. He flexed his fingers a few times, trying to regain some semblance of feeling to them before he went to treat Lance.

The sharpshooter's eyes were closed, and Keith couldn't tell if he'd fallen unconscious or was still awake. He wasn't honestly sure which option he preferred right now.

"Lance?" he whispered and hazy blue eyes blinked open. And that answered that. "I've got to move you," Keith told him gently. "I need to look at your injuries."

Lance's eyes closed and Keith took that as a confirmation. He carefully shifted Lance to lie flat on the ground, but after that he wasn't entirely sure where to start. As he'd already observed, there was blood literally everywhere.

And well, the logical thing to do would be to wipe up what he could so he had an idea of what he was dealing with. Keith grabbed one of the canteens, took a quick drink first, and then wet another piece of freed rope. Then he realized that he actually still needed to pull of the old, now blood-soaked bandages, and the best way to do that would be if he had his knife. Which was still attached to Lance.

Quiznak.

He rope he'd tied around the belt was knotted so firmly from all the tugging that no amount of picking at the knot would release it. Keith instead managed to undo the buckle and then tugged it off to the sides. His heart leapt into his throat as it fell away.

Lance's skin all around the belt had already painfully darkened with bruises and blood was welling up on the top edges where it had literally bitten into his skin. Not wanting to look but knowing he had to, Keith gingerly rolled Lance to his side so he could retrieve the rest of the belt and the sheath where the knife was on his lower back

And yup, it was worse there. Lance's back had taken the brunt of the pressure and there was a line of almost blackened flesh welling with blood and another mark higher up where the handle of the knife had pressed into soft flesh.

He'd done this. Keith's stomach lurched again. He should have tried to pad the belt – with what, he had no idea, but he should have, somehow – or done something to relieve the strain. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, knowing it would still never be enough.

He retrieved his knife and belt though and settled Lance down on his back again. The other boy barely reacted to the handling, his breath coming once more in shallow little pants. He cut carefully through the blood soaked bandage pressed against Lance's side, sliding them off and chucking them across the rock where they landed with a dull splat.

He winced as he dabbed away at the smeared blood, revealing that the entire uncauterized part of the wound had split open and was sluggishly leaking. Keith cursed under his breath. In addition to that reopening, Lance had carved a few more lines into him from the cliff face and Keith did what he could to wipe them clean of the debris.

Lance did shudder as he poured a bit of water over the wounds and Keith had to pause to press a hand to Lance's shoulder get him to lie still, murmuring apologies again. After the worst was cleared Keith grabbed a few more robe strips and affixed them over the new cuts and layered several over the reopened laceration, pressing down to help the blood clot.

That was apparently more than painful though because Lance spasmed beneath his hands, eyes flying open wide.

"It's okay," Keith managed, shifting one hand to lie on Lance's forehead, thumb moving in soothing circles, while the other continued to apply pressure. "It's okay. Just breathe."

Lance leaned into the gentle touch, closing his eyes again. Keith indulged the caress for another minute as Lance's body relaxed, but then he had to get back to work. He still needed to secure all of the bandages, but opted for now that while Lance was lying down to look at the rest.

He started with Lance's feet, having to use more water to rinse them of blood. Lance twitched but held himself still.

Keith was no expert, but he was pretty sure a few toes might be broken, likely from Lance smashing them into the rock. A few were more purple than they should be and all of them had broken or chipped nails, not to mention the abrasions and punctures.

Lance would not be walking again until after their rescue, of that Keith was certain. He had nothing to use as splints and wasn't honestly certain if you were supposed to splint toes, but wrapped both feet up well with the robes. He wished he had something for the pain, but all he had was water.

That part taken care of, Keith moved onto what he'd been dreading most: Lance's hands. They were lying limp on the ground and even as Keith picked up the left and eased it into his lap Lance shuddered.

His index finger was broken, Keith noted first. The rest seemed to have made it free of any breaks, but all were bleeding and the pinky was missing its nail completely. Keith didn't want to look, but he forced himself to pull off the compression bandages.

Lance's sacrifice wound had reopened, no doubt a combination of the magic and the abuse Lance had put it through gripping onto the cliff. He poured a little water onto it, having to brace Lance's wrist as the boy gave a wordless shout and tried to wrench his limb away.

"I'm almost done," he promised, wrapping a clean piece of robe directly about the incision and then sliding the compression sleeves back over. "You're doing great."

But he could tell that Lance really wasn't. By this point, despite the pain, the other boy was normally trying to tell Keith he was okay. He hadn't done anything of the sort yet.

Despite the fact Lance was going to have absolutely no mobility now with his hand, making attempts at talking even harder, Keith knew he had to wrap the whole limb. Lance's fingers were too damaged for anything but. When he was done Lance's fingers were all aligned next to one another and covered to the tip with cloth like a terribly designed mitten.

The right had fared slightly better, finger-wise at least as none appeared broken. They were still scraped raw though so they received the same mitten treatment. Keith didn't dawdle over the incision, which like the left had reopened, but cleaned it as best he could and rewrapped it.

All that was really left now was Lance's face, which had a few scrapes from rubbing against the rock, and one of the claw marks the Mackan last night had left had reopened. Keith lightly washed them all with water.

"Just about done," Keith said quietly. "I need you to sit up though."

He received no response.

"Lance," he said, just a bit sharper, relieved when those sightless eyes cracked open again. "You have to sit up. Are you ready?"

Keith frowned as Lance mouthed something at him that didn't quite make sense. "See?" he repeated back. Lance said it again.

Oh. Sí. Yes in Spanish.

Keith's stomach clenched again. If Lance was reverting back to his mother tongue…

"I need you to stay with me, all right?" Keith hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. He knew the trip up the cliff hadn't been good but Lance was regressing too much for just the exhaustion and strain on his body.

The blood, he realized. Lance had lost a lot of blood again.

With no assistance on Lance's part, Keith pulled the other boy to a hunched over sit, wincing as the blackened bruise showed itself even more prominently. He worked quickly to wrap several layers of bandages about Lance's chest to hold the compresses he'd made together and then wrapped another about the belt bruise. Even though it wasn't really bleeding he felt better covering it up.

Lance was shivering again, the small bit of heat he'd been able to leech from the rock gone now that he was sitting. Keith rearranged them, hating how Lance was as compliant as a doll, so that Lance was between his legs and his back pressed to Keith's chest, his arms wrapped around the thin shoulders and his hands rubbing gently on Lance's forearms to generate some heat .

It seemed to help, as Lance stirred on his own and tucked a cold nose against Keith's neck.

"You with me?"

A slight nod and a hot breath ghosted Keith's skin. Still, Lance was much too cold and Keith hugged him closer.

"On a scale of one to ten, what would you rate your condition now?" Keith tried to keep his tone light. He moved so Lance's head was propped on his shoulder and he could look down. Lance seemed to be debating the answer.

"No lying," Keith said bluntly. "I need to know, Lance. How do you feel?"

And even though he'd been expecting it the inaudible 'three' still made his heart freeze. And then, true to form, Lance mouthed out 'You?' and the lifelessness that had been present was replaced with concern and guilt.

"Seven," Keith said after a few seconds. "Maybe a six. My hands aren't so good right now." A dark chuckle was pulled from him. "Nowhere near as bad as yours though. I'll stick with seven."

Lance didn't look comforted by that. "I'm okay," Keith said, trying to convince them both. And really, compared to Lance he was pretty much a ten. "My head's still clear enough and I can grip my knife."

He shifted slightly so he could retrieve the canteen he'd been using, which was nearly empty. "Drink?"

To his relief Lance gave a nod and Keith tipped it gently, allowing Lance to have several small sips. He took another himself, draining it. Three left now. Assuming the rescue came when Keith was hoping for it should be enough.

That, or they'd be dead and then it wouldn't matter.

He shook his head to clear it of the thought and could feel Lance's gaze on him, feeling the movement.

"It's fine," he said. "Just thinking."

Lance's lips twitched, no doubt remembering their previous conversation on such a topic. Keith squeezed Lance's shoulder in retaliation, although he found himself smiling too.

"We need to get moving again," Keith said after a few moments. He felt Lance wince. "I'll carry you. But we have to get away from the blood. Before that though…"

He trailed off, looking up at the sky. The moons were higher now, their glow even stronger from this vantage point. They had about an hour, Keith calculated, before the Mackans carried out their ritual.

An hour before Lance lost his hearing.

"We need to talk about what's going to happen," Keith murmured. "I… I know it's going to be scary." He felt Lance let out a heave somewhere between a sob and a laugh even though a smile formed on his face. A little unnerved, Keith continued on. "I'll be right there the whole time. Well, unless I'm fighting."

At that Lance sobered and he pressed himself up just a little closer.

"It's going to be okay," Keith reassured. "I won't let anything happen to you."

And that was what Lance was afraid of. He didn't want Keith to lose his life trying to save Lance's. Just like Keith had said, Lance did not want to survive at the expense of another. And yet that was exactly what he was prepared to do for Keith. He let out a silent sigh. He was so selfish.

"I was thinking," Keith continued, "we should have some sort of signing system so you… so you won't be completely unaware."

Lance nodded, grateful.

Keith's hands, which had still be very nicely rubbing warmth back into him, paused and Lance felt the fingers tap on his wrist. "One tap for Mackans sighted. Two taps for I'm going to engage. Does that work?"

Lance nodded.

"This," Keith said, giving Lance's wrist a gentle squeeze, "means our rescue is here. But if you don't feel that…"

Lance vehemently shook his head, a mistake as it sent him reeling. But no. If Keith didn't give the signal it was because Keith couldn't and Lance wasn't leaving without him.

"Lance…"

He elbowed Keith then as hard as he could, which was barely anything at all. Idiot. He wasn't leaving him behind and he knew the others wouldn't either. It was as he'd said, they were both getting out together or not at all.

"Okay," Keith finally said. "Okay."

Quiet reigned for a moment and Keith started talking again. "Since we've determined they're going to enact their ritual, it stands to reason you're going to get hurt. Again."

Lance gave a tiny nod. He'd figured as much too. His hands flared at the reminder and he hugged them closer.

"I think it's either going to be your neck," Keith said quietly, "or over your heart. It's supposed to be the final cut, right? Makes sense they'd do it to kill the victim."

And well, Keith had learned many things on this adventure but apparently bedside manner for fatal diagnoses wasn't one of them. Lance didn't know why he giggled then, but between the bluntness and the understatement from earlier he couldn't help it. His mind also chimed in that he was likely suffering the effects of blood loss again making him a little loopy, and Lance fully agreed.

"You okay?"

It only made Lance laugh harder, wishing he could stop as fire ignited in his chest but he couldn't. Absolutely nothing about this situation was okay. Keith had just described how he was supposed to be murdered and here he was laughing. Oh, he'd really gone off the deep end now.

He hiccupped back another laugh as his lungs protested that they had no air left to give. Keith's left hand had shifted from his arm to pat against his back. To his horror the laughter turned to tears and he found he couldn't stop those either.

"Oh, Lance," Keith murmured, and that just made them come faster but still silent.

He buried his face in the crook between Keith's arm and chest, shoulders shaking. Dios, it was so close now. Any minute he could lose his hearing, his last link to having any sort of understanding as to what was happening. His world was going to become completely dark then. No light. No sound. Nothing.

Nothing except touch. He pressed his face more firmly into Keith's shoulder, nuzzling the rough texture of the undersuit and the cold, smooth flesh that was Keith's arm.

"It's going to be okay," Keith whispered. "I won't leave your side. I won't leave you, Lance."

Lance swallowed thickly. Keith meant it to be reassuring, he knew. But all he could picture was Keith lying next to him, dead, because he wouldn't leave. He'd be staring vacantly up at the sky, blood pooling around him and knife just out of reach.

Actually though, no, he wouldn't know that. All he'd know were fur and claws pressing in. He wouldn't know if Keith had gotten away, if Keith was dead, if Keith was being tortured right in front of him… he'd know absolutely nothing.

He clung a little tighter, fingers aching at how he forced them to brush against Keith's shirt, but it was a good pain. It meant Keith was there. Keith was there and breathing and alive. He took comfort in hearing Keith's soft exhales, feeling the rise of his chest under his shoulder.

Keith held him for a few more minutes, not saying anything but continuing to rub one hand up and down Lance's left arm and the other circles on his back. Despite the dull thudding of pain that flared whenever he took too deep a breath, Lance wished they could stay like this.

They were both safe here, in this moment. He didn't want it to end.

Keith apparently had no such hesitations, breaking into the peace with an, "Are you up to eating something?"

Lance pressed his lips together and minutely shook his head. Even the thought of chewing hurt and frankly his stomach was lurching all over the place with nerves. And if Keith was carrying him… well, he definitely did not want to throw up all over him. He'd die of embarrassment before the Mackans even had a chance.

He could feel Keith's disappointment and he ducked his head. He knew he should eat something for the blood loss. Logic told him that but his body told him the opposite.

"A little more water then?" Lance licked still dry lips and nodded slightly at that. Water he could do.

Keith gently moved to hold his shoulder and tip him upright before a canteen was pressed to his mouth. He took a few sips, barely even registering the onion taste anymore.

"Time to get moving then," Keith said after Lance heard him take a few swallows. "Just for a little bit, promise. Think you can hold on for about half an hour?"

Lance really had no idea what he was capable of at this point, but when put into perspective that he had managed to scale a cliff then holding tight while Keith carried him didn't sound impossible, so he nodded.

"All right then. Same as before."

Keith moved away from him then and Lance whimpered at the loss of heat. And unlike last night he didn't even have the robe to cover his back. He shivered, the tremor only making him ache worse.

Keith shivered too as the loss of body heat as he set about resecuring his knife and the canteens and pouches. His under armor may provide some measure of warmth, but it was still cold. He had nothing to complain about though. Other than the missing sleeves he was covered from toes to neck while Lance barely had on pants at this point, so full of holes that they were.

The bandages that wrapped around most of his torso wouldn't be giving much in terms of heat either. The only good thing about the cold was that it helped slow the blood flow, but that was of little physical comfort to Lance.

"Come on," Keith said, crouching down in front of Lance. "Let's get you up."

He guided Lance's left arm so that Lance's elbow was secured under his neck. Lance slowly mimicked the movement with the right, unable to hide the wince as the action tugged on the chest wound covering that side.

He tightened his arms as best he could about Keith's neck and pressed himself against the warm back, tightening even further to try and get closer and only letting up when he heard Keith wheeze. 'Sorry,' he whispered, even though Keith could not hear or see the apology.

Arms were circling behind him then and grasping at his thighs before Keith got none too gracefully to his feet and Lance near choked him again in an effort to remain upright. Keith found his balance though and shifted so he his arms were through Lance's calves and locking him in place.

"Good?" he rasped.

In answer Lance rested his cheek against the back of Keith's head, the hair tickling but comforting at the same time.

Keith took a few lurching steps forward then before he settled into a rhythm. He really wasn't going to go too far. He still wanted time to get settled and hopefully find some projectiles to chuck back down at the Mackans. That, and he wanted to make sure Lance was… comfortable, before it happened. He'd have to get the bandages ready too because with their luck the wound was going to bleed. A lot. And Lance really had none left to give.

The going at least was smooth. The cliff top wasn't without its grooves and dips but there were no shadows cast up here save from them and he could easily pick out where to go with the moonlight. Keith hoped that they weren't big giant targets up there, but based on the location he'd seen the Mackans in last they would be looking lengthwise down the cliffs and given the twists and turns two figures atop shouldn't be visible at all.

Keith made it about twenty minutes by his count, which had to be nearly a mile. It wasn't the best but he figured they were still about four miles in from the front of the path and over fifty feet up. And he wasn't sure he could go too much further; his arms were still sore from the multiple cliff climbs and then hauling Lance up. He could feel them shaking now and was worried at this rate he would drop Lance.

"We're here," Keith announced, coming to a slow halt. He released Lance's legs, hearing them make soft taps as the hit the ground. He crouched down then, lowering Lance until he felt the other boy's bottom make contact with the ground and the arms released.

Lance immediately pulled his arms around him and hunched over, looking the picture of utter misery. Keith could already see splotches on the bandages on his torso and a trickle was leaking down his right hand.

"Hold still," Keith murmured, retrieving a few new scraps and wrapping them about the hand, tightening it well and hating how Lance flinched. He patted another piece down over the bleeding chest wound and tied it all together again.

"How about you lie down?" Keith suggested gently, hating how he heard his voice choke on the words. It was too much like his dad, when the nurses had made sure he was as comfortable as he could be on the narrow bed when they knew he'd lost the fight.

Lance wasn't going to go like that though, Keith thought, blinking back the sudden tears. He wasn't going to slip off silently, limbs going slack as he fought for that last final breath and failed. No. He was going to be fine. Help was coming in just over eight hours.

He was going to be fine. This was just… just so he wasn't as in much pain, having to hunch over like that. That's what Keith told himself as he helped Lance to lie down, unable to offer the pillow of scraps, but helping him bring his hands over his chest – stomach, he decided instead after an uncomfortable thought that Lance looked like he was in a casket the other way – and his feet drawn up.

Lance was incredibly flexible, Keith was learning. His legs folded nearly at the knee, allowing him to tuck the heels up against himself while he curled down, forming the most pathetic looking ball he'd ever seen.

"I'll be right over here," Keith said. "Just gathering some rocks." He saw how Lance stiffened and added, "I'll keep talking though… if you want?" And Lance relaxed ever so slightly with a nod.

"Okay then," Keith said, using his knife to pry up a mostly loose stone about the size of a softball. He bet that would make a good impact, assuming he had decent aim. "What do you want me to talk about?"

He caught Lance angling his fingers towards Keith's direction. It was hard to tell what with them all bandaged together, but Keith swore it looked like Lance was trying to point.

"You want to talk about… me?" Keith guessed. A small smile formed on Lance's face and he nodded.

"Really?"

Keith hated that such a concept still made him uncomfortable. He had shared more about himself in the past couple days than he ever had in his entire life prior to meeting Shiro.

But Lance wasn't looking for him to spill his life story. He just wanted to get to know Keith better. And, Keith supposed, he really would like to know more about Lance when all of this was over. He wanted to actually listen to Lance's stories about his family and adventures with his siblings rather than tune them out because of the pang of what could have been.

He wanted to be a better friend. A better brother.

He could start small. Maybe work up to something else. Keith nodded, freeing another decent sized rock.

"Okay. Um, my favorite color is yellow." He could feel the follow up 'why' and couldn't help the smile that tugged at his own lips at the memory. "My dad and I… we'd wake up every morning to watch the sunrise together before he'd go off to work. My favorite part was when the sun would crest over the dunes, this big golden yellow ball, and it made the whole desert softer." He paused and then added quietly, "I haven't gotten up to watch a sunrise since my dad died."

And wow, how had he turned such a simple answer into something like that? Lance was rubbing off on him, he decided. All of these emotions and feelings.

He glanced to judge Lance's reaction, not at all surprised to see a sad smile and compassion emanating from the dulled eyes.

"And moving on." He added another rock to his collection. "I hate cucumbers. Don't know why, I just do. I also can't stomach anything overly spicy." He could practically feel Lance's look of horror. "Remember when Hunk made those… what were they supposed to be, papas fritos or something like that." Lance winced at the butchering of the food but inclined his chin ever so slightly. "They were too hot. I snuck mine all to the mice when he wasn't looking."

He grinned at Lance's expression, feeling some of his own anxiety melt away. This… this felt right.

"Let's see… Shiro forced me to watch a bunch of anime once I moved into the Garrison. He's obsessed, but you'd never know it. There was this one I really liked… it had a samurai," and he did feel Lance's eye roll that time, "Hey! It had a samurai who gave up killing people and used his sword to protect them instead. You know, fighting to protect the ones you love." He let out a soft laugh. "Who'd have ever thought we'd all be sort of like that. Sometimes it feels like we are living in a cartoon or fantasy novel what with everything that happens to us."

He'd accumulated a decent pile now and Keith took them over a few at a time towards the edge of the cliff where the Mackans should be traveling down.

"Almost done," he told Lance. He tried to think of something else to say. "I like to cook," he offered up. "I'm not as good as Hunk, but I'm not terrible. I have no idea how all the alien ingredients work though so I haven't tried anything in the kitchen. Maybe Hunk could show me though."

Lance nodded his agreement and Keith decided that if – when – they were rescued he'd ask the larger boy for some pointers in navigating the alien fare. He wouldn't mind being in the kitchen again, honestly.

Last pile arranged, he made his way back to Lance, nudging him slightly with his knee so he could lift him up to rest against Keith's front again and wrap his arms about the chilled form.

The pack full of bandages was within easy reach and Keith adjusted his grip so he could quickly lower Lance down to the ground and begin first aid. His gaze drifted upwards, tired eyes tracking the third moon. Couldn't be more than fifteen minutes now.

Lance seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Keith felt him shudder in his arms in a different way than the shiver of cold.

He lifted a hand to card through the back of Lance's hair, tucking his own chin over the brown head. "It's going to be okay."

Lance nudged him, more gently this time his ribs noted with relief, and angled his head out from underneath Keith and rested it once more on a shoulder so that his face was visible.

He mouthed something then, eyes cast to the side as even blind he didn't seem able to look directly at Keith.

"I didn't catch that," Keith said apologetically. "What?"

Lance repeated it, feeling his cheeks darken a bit. It was childish, really. Keith wouldn't, he hadn't ever heard—

"Sing?" Keith interrupted.

Lance gave a jerking nod.

"You want me to sing," Keith clarified.

Lance averted his eyes even more, embarrassed. He shouldn't have asked. It was just… his mamá would sing to him after a bad dream or even just when he had difficulty falling asleep. It soothed him. It made everything better, assured him that he wasn't alone and no monsters were going to get him.

Was it so wrong he wanted that assurance again? He knew the monsters were coming, and this time they were real. But for just a few moments he wanted to pretend he was safe and warm in bed and everything was okay.

Before everything wasn't.

"I'm not very good," Keith said quietly, and Lance turned back towards him, hope fluttering. That didn't sound like a no. "And I don't know many songs."

Lance butted his head against Keith's chin. He didn't care. Keith could sound like nails on a chalkboard singing the alphabet song and he'd love it.

He just… he really didn't want it to be quiet and still when everything happened. He didn't want to be alone like that.

"Okay then," Keith murmured. "I'll try. Um, you ever heard 'Moon River'?"

Lance gave a minute shake of his head.

"My dad used to sing it to me." Lance could hear the sad smile in Keith's words followed by a deep breath. "Okay. No complaints. You asked for this."

Lance snuggled further against Keith, closing his eyes and letting out a silent breath. He was ready.

Keith started off humming, the sound low and deep and reverberating in his chest and filling Lance with a newfound sense of warmth. It was enough to lull him into a sleepy sort of comfort, pushing the pain aside for just a little while.

Hesitantly Keith began to sing. His voice was a little rough, but at the same time sweet. Lance smiled. Just like Keith.

"Moon river," Keith sang softly, "wider than a mile…"

Lance let out another tiny breath as the song washed over him.

"I'm crossing you in style… some day…"

Keith's voice hitched and Lance could feel the sob rumble its way through him. Lance only pressed closer, feeling his own chest tighten and a tear sting his eye.

"Oh, dream… m-maker," Keith paused, unable to understand why entirely he felt a burning behind his eyes and his throat closing up. "You… you heart br-breaker."

His hands tightened around Lance, who was lying near peacefully. "Wherever you're going," he all but whispered. "I'm going your way..."

As the last note faded away he felt Lance jerk in his arms, felt the lithe body grow tense and mouth open in a silent scream.

And the last of their peace was shattered.

xxx

Author's Notes:

Keith's favorite anime is one of mine too: Rurouni Kenshin. Also, the song Keith chose is the song my dad used to sing to me every night when he was home, Moon River. Just a lovely little song that really tugs at my heartstrings. I actually teared up a bit writing that as I could hear my dad singing (and I personally think he has a much better voice than Andy Williams, no offense Andy) and Keith and Lance are Huckleberry friends and just… sorry, I have to go cry again.

But here we go. Homestretch. We gonna make it? :D Heheheh...

Thank you as always to the reviewers. Every time I get a notification of a comment my day gets a little brighter. Shout outs to: wingedflower, Aiyzu, Alexa, Skiewrites 2.0, Adrianna Agray, Wolfwind97, Guest, geekyglamour413, TheTheoryofFangirling, dragoscilvio, Justanangryfangirl, hobbes101, ASleepDeprivedPineapple, Wolf of the Demise, Genni C, Guest, migrane, imagine forevermore, An Amber Pen, Guest and BlueCookiesforRick!

Don't forget we have the Q&A tomorrow if you're interested in attending. Details on my profile!

Please do drop a comment before you click away. Would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter! Reviews earn you a song performed by Keith. Daww! Please and thank you! (including you bookmarkers updating your status every chapter! I'd love to hear from you too, don't be shy!)