It's getting harder and harder for me to write because in my head this is all playing out like a movie and translating it into story form loses a lot of emotion and…everything; it's frustrating. I wish there was a fanfiction format where you could make movies just as easily as stories but getting ahold of cast members and sets and film equipment and stuff is so hard…jeez. Anyway, I hope you guys are satisfied with this, sorry it's not as good as it could be :/ xD

Chapter Forty-Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Mario or its franchise; it belongs to

Nintendo and their affiliates. I just am really grateful to its creators for giving

me such a wonderful game and media series to write about!

I also don't own anything related to Harry Potter, all that belongs to J.K. Rowling,

but thanks go to her as well because, using her wonderful work, I can expand this

story to make it more interesting.

I also don't own anything related to Naruto if you see me throw a little of that, too

Wendy woke with the sun. So easy to do when it was practically a third member of the room, thanks to the giant glass windows along the opposite wall. Proving to be a perfect alarm and only yielding to a pair of sliding doors between them, the transparent surfaces gave her a complete view of the sunny day outside. She smiled.

We made it, she thought, sitting up. He wasn't lying.

She stretched her arms over her head and then felt a little bad for doubting her boyfriend. He was behind her, still asleep. With his mouth open and a light snore coming from his throat he wasn't so attractive, but she felt nothing but fondness for him anyway. She smoothed her thumb over his dark brows and was glad to see in sleep he was calm. During the day it was another story. He just seemed a bit preoccupied all the time, ever since they left his mother's place last week.

And I still don't know what happened, she frowned. Munson refused to give her the details about what went on that day. He only said that it'd just be the two of them now, and that his mother was sick.

It doesn't make sense to worry about it since he doesn't want to talk about it, she thought. Though it bothers me that he's still so secretive.

"Oh well," She turned around, deciding to leave him be.

From the full-sized bed she rose and strode over to the windows. She slid open the doors and heard something fall softly to the floor. Looking down, she saw the object near where her feet were buried in the white carpet. It was the pink bear keychain Munson had given her. She wore it all the time, even to bed. However, as her cotton shorts had nothing to really hook it onto, it kept falling off. Picking the thing up and giving it a squeeze she again looked behind her. Munson was waking up.

"…Good morning." He smiled faintly, his sea-green eyes cracking open between black lashes.

Her heart bounced excitedly and she told him, "Good morning. What do you want to do today?"

"Whatever you want." Munson yawned, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm across his stomach.

"That's what you said yesterday!"

Munson shrugged. "It's whatever you want, beauty."

She turned to the window so he couldn't see the blush dusting her cheeks. Sure, he often had little pet names for her, but they always had the same effect. She toyed with the bear for a minute and then slid open the glass doors.

"Where are you going?"

"Just to look around."

She loved it here and only after a few days. It wasn't just the house, so big and spacious and at the same time homey, what with all the slightly melancholic remnants of Munson's old life, but the location was absolutely wonderful. The old white house was high on the rocks, just a little ways from the beach. She started out walking but soon started to run down the wooden steps that curved and were covered towards the bottom with sand. That same grainy, sugar-white sand stuck to her feet as she full-on grinned now and rushed towards the water. It was her favorite part of the place and she didn't care about getting wet, Munson had brought her lots of clothes…from somewhere. She could go ahead and splash and frolic as much as she wanted.

I missed this so much, she thought, fully immersing herself in the salty waters. She swam towards the deeper end and started backstroking playfully. She beamed up at the skies that were as blue as her eyes and dove under the surface. The water was like a second home to her and she could feel a longing tug inside her, the tug of her powers longing to be used. She swam back to shallow waters and stood hesitantly.

It's been so long, she thought sadly. She hadn't believed it'd bother her this much, but she felt restless sometimes and she knew this was why. Usually a bit of fiddling around in the tub would help, just making waves and little animals with the bathwater would make her feel better, but now, being surrounded by her element was just too much.

Wendy chanced a glance behind her.

Munson's still inside, she thought. He may have even gone back to sleep. No way will he notice if I just..

The water rose from her ankles towards her chest in a long, snakelike coil, very slowly and with much concentration. Her heart was pounding. She was starting to sweat. Not from exertion, but from nervousness.

A bird began to sing.

Both a startled gasp and a wet slap of the water accompanied the sound as Wendy, red-faced and wide-eyed, spun hurriedly around. When she saw it was just a bird she laughed out loud.

Relax, silly, he's not gonna' see, she convinced herself, taking a few steps and sinking down to her knees in the water. There were little bits of shell and rocks that dug into her skin but with a bit of manipulation, she cleared a smooth space of earth for herself. Hesitantly she moved at first, gently pushing and pulling at the water with her hands under the surface, not making it too obvious what she was doing.

There, she thought. If somebody were to see me now, they wouldn't think anything was weird.

But it felt too good to have the entire ocean at her fingertips, at her command. She started to put more energy into it, pushing and pulling so that the water started to lap at her waist, and soon she was on her feet again. The water started to build up in a wave, a huge wave that made her giddy and thrilled because it was steadily getting taller and coming right towards her.

Wendy moved the water around her feet, freezing it and effectively locking herself in place. Then she turned towards the incoming wave and, just before it could hit her, thrust her hands forward and brought it up short like a brick wall. She was panting, exhilarated.

I wonder if I can…

She'd never tried it before, but she attempted to lift the gargantuan liquid wall into the air. It was heavy and at first she couldn't do it, but she forced herself to try harder. The ice cracked around her feet, threatening to break, but the wall was rising, rising, it was over her head now. If her control wavered for even a second, the entire thing would crush her, kill her. That was scary but also pretty freaking amazing because she was doing this!

Once the novelty wore off, she didn't just let the water splash down for two reasons: for one it would probably break her neck. And two, well, it just wasn't as cool as thinning it out to mist and letting it fog all around her before reverting back to its original state and raining down over her.

"Wendy?"

She was caught red-handed. Er, wet-handed. She turned and discerned the sight of her clueless boyfriend in the dissipating fog. He was standing near the steps with a towel in his hand and an awed, confused expression on his face.

Shit, she thought and that was thanks to spending so much time around her swearing older brothers. What else could she think when Munson was just standing there like he'd never seen her before. She didn't mean for him to see. Not that she'd taken measures to make sure he didn't. And since she couldn't think of anything to say at the moment she sported an expression much like his own, only hers was a bit guiltier.

"Wendy did you…" Munson blinked and glanced around but they were alone on the beach for miles.

Wendy dropped her hands and shivered, now soaking wet from head to nervously curling toes.

"Did you do that?" Munson asked her, his soft voice carrying on a breeze over to her. "With the water?"

She didn't want to lie anymore, because up until now she'd been lying by omission basically. So she bit the side of her tongue and nodded, her ten fingers closing around the hem of her drenched shorts.

He must have seen everything, she assumed, opting for the entire truth in that case.

She told him, "I was born with this power to…manipulate water. I didn't tell you because I didn't know what you'd think and…" She ducked her head so that she could hide behind her drenched hair and said, "I didn't want it to change the way you felt about me."

Munson stared at her with the towel uselessly clenched in one hand, just thinking real hard. On the one hand, her admission stunned him, though it hardly made him think less of her. He was tempted to make a confession of his own, and he partly succumbed.

"Wendy," He said, striding over towards her.

He wet his feet and the bottom of his pants as he stepped into the waters and stopped a few inches away from her. Seeing her with her head down bothered him, so with a finger he coaxed her to lock eyes with him.

"Wendy," He said again. "I saw what you did and it was…incredible!"

"Really?" The girl smiled tentatively.

Munson nodded, draping the towel around her shoulders and laying a kiss on her forehead.

"You're beautiful and powerful," He murmured, "and I don't think there's anything that could change the way I feel about you. I love you, Wendy."

To iterate the claim he bent his head a little and kissed her water-softened mouth, tasting the sea on her lips. He didn't want to get carried away but it was too easy to do, what with his age and the fact that they were both wet and totally alone and her having this secret power only added to her allure.

"I have to tell you something." Munson blurted abruptly, touching his forehead to hers.

Wendy blinked and asked, "What is it?"

"You see these marks?" He started rolling up the sleeves of his t shirt, revealing the inky symbols driven like brands into his pale skin.

Wendy studied the marks and nodded. She'd seen for herself that they covered more than just his arms but most times he kept them hidden. She'd assumed he'd used makeup or something to coat over them.

"Are those like, tattoos or something?"

"No," Munson replied. "You remember when we were in the Badlands and I tried to tell you that I can…do things other people can't?"

"Like magic?" Wendy guessed. "My brothers and I are like that. I didn't know that's what you meant."

"That's not really what I meant." Munson looked away. "I have this power but it's more than just magic. It's…I come from…"

Just stop, he urged himself, you don't want to go there. That chapter of your life is over and it's best not to look back.

He offered a charming smile down at the girl and told her, "You're right, Wendy. It's magic. I've got magic. Just like you."

"Is that how you've been getting us food and clothes and stuff?" She asked.

He shook his head and said, "I don't steal anything. I just talk people into helping me out."

Wendy wanted to see the difference but couldn't. Not that she cared.

She asked, "Did you get your magic from you mom?"

"No." Munson grew solemn at the mention of the woman. "I got it from my father."

"Oh!" Wendy's brows jumped. "Your dad who owns the inn?"

"…Right."

Wendy figured that made sense, seeing as how there were many more magical people and creatures in the other world than there were here.

The girl asked curiously, "Am I ever going to meet your dad?"

"I don't think so," Munson frowned, his mood only growing grimmer.

Wendy frowned as well and asked, "Do you not like him or something?"

"No. I ran away from him. He's not a very good person." Munson muttered.

"Is he evil?" Wendy feared. "Will he try and make you come back?"

"No. He can't." Munson spoke with an edge, then stroked his girlfriend's cheek and promised, "We're going to have a good life here, Wendy. Even if it's just you and me. And nobody, not even my father, is gonna' get in the way of that."

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Just ignore him, and he'll eventually stop.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Or not.

MJ groaned and rolled out of bed, groggily sauntering from his room towards the source of the noise and his current aggravation. He found it in the kitchen in the form of his irritating little brother.

"What are you doing?"

Thunk.

MJ winced and saw that loud noise was his brother banging through the cupboards. Once addressed, the blue-haired boy whirled around and grinned at his older sibling.

"Hey MJ!"

"What are you doing?" MJ asked again, much less enthusiastically.

"Looking for something to eat!" Larry replied.

He hopped onto one of the counters and started swinging his legs, which meant his heels were knocking against the cabinets, which meant he was making noise.

"Can't you stop that?" MJ groused, scratching his stomach.

"Stop what?" Larry asked. He said eagerly, "Hey MJ, you wanna—"

"No." The older boy answered, turning around and heading back to his room.

Larry jumped down and followed him, crying, "You didn't even let me finish!"

"Just keep quiet in there." MJ told his brother, moving his nails around to get at an itch on his lower back.

I think I'm getting bedsores, he thought errantly, ducking under the doorway to his room. That came from having nowhere to go and nothing to do all day, every day. He felt like a prisoner in this palace and wondered if that was Ludwig's intent. Maybe his eldest brother was punishing him for something.

Probably for getting kicked out of that kingdom, MJ thought jokingingly and strode over towards his bed. Instead of returning to the sheets to finish the hours-long nap he'd started sometime yesterday, he dropped down to the stone floor and started doing pushups. It was something to do, something familiar.

"Nngh," He grunted under an unexpected weight.

Larry had plopped down on his back and was gripping his shoulders so as not to fall off, but MJ deliberately rolled to the side and tossed him off. Larry toppled to the floor and rubbed his knee.

"Owww! What gives?" He whined.

MJ sat up with his back to the bed and crossed both his legs and arms. He gave his brother a deadpan look, fed up with his antics.

"Larry, what do you want?"

"I'm bored!" Larry cried, crawling over to the tall teen.

He stood before him with his mouth fixed in a plaintive frown. MJ rubbed his eyes and tilted his head back, lifting a brow.

"Larry we've got the entire palace to ourselves." He stated tiredly. "Can't you find something else to do besides bothering me?"

"Nooo," Larry drew out the word, nudging his foot against MJ's. "This place is big and empty. There's nothing cool in here."

"Why don't you go toss a ball around?"

"I did that," Larry mumbled. "It's not the same without another person to play with."

"Well go outside."

"I did that, too!"

MJ leaned his head back onto the mattress and said, "I don't know what to tell you, then. I'm not a babysitter."

"And I'm not a baby." Larry frowned. "I just wanna' do something together." He crouched down and poked MJ in the chest. "You're my big brother. Come and have fun with me!"

"I am having fun." MJ claimed dully, shutting his eyes.

Larry pouted and started shaking his brother's shoulders.

"Get off me."

"Come on!"

Downstairs there was the sound of a door banging open. It was like someone just kicked it in. Larry jumped and locked eyes with his brother.

"Who is that?" Larry whispered, a trace of fear in his voice and green eyes.

MJ rolled his dark ones and said, "It's probably nobody. You know Ludwig said only we could get in and out."

Still, he found himself rising and adjusting his black t-shirt and striding over towards the door to go investigate. His brother was on his heels. Literally. MJ had to stop on his way to the stairs to turn and glare pointedly at his brother, who shrugged sheepishly and put a bit more space between them. His curiosity was nearly palpable, though as he followed his older brother. MJ leaned over the wooden banister at the top of the steps, now having an easy view of the lower floor and the front doors. Larry peered between the balcony bars near MJ's pants leg.

"Um." The black-haired teen frowned at the newcomer. "Who are you?"

Fiery red hair and a wolfish big grin wasn't ringing any bells for the scar-bearing young man, which seemed to make the redhead grin harder.

"MJ! LARRY!"

A little child that was more multi-colored blur than boy came bounding up the stairs, dashing around the corner and wrapping both his siblings in a warm embrace. MJ looked down and grew confused at the sight of his tiny brother, but Larry was exuberant as he hugged the seven year old back.

"Where'd you come from, Lemmy?" Larry asked.

"First I was with Iggy." Lemmy responded, then pointed downstairs and said, "then I left with B-Jun and his dad."

"Oh." Larry said, then asked, "Where's Iggs now?"

"Iono." Lemmy shrugged. "He disappeared."

Weird, MJ thought, but then his younger brother was very weird so this was no surprise.

MJ glanced downstairs at the two redheads and recognized Junior who was looking a lot shyer than he remembered. He stood slightly behind his father, a broad-built, clearly muscular man MJ was sure he'd never met. He had heard of Junior's father, of course, but he hadn't heard any good things. He approached the situation with ware and took slow steps towards the first floor.

"How did you get in here?" MJ asked suspiciously. He looked behind him at his brothers and asked the redhead, "Did Lemmy let you in?"

"No, I let myself in." The man replied, tilting his head. There was a golden crown settled there, right on top of two ivory colored horns.

"How?" MJ asked, still staring at the stubs.

The man blinked jade eyes and said, "I just opened the doors. How else?" He then glanced down at his small heir and remarked, "I would think I'd be welcome here."

"Why would you think that?" MJ was closer now, about a couple feet away from them.

With another grin—MJ could now see that those teeth were unusually sharp—the redhead replied, "Well I'd think so considering I'm your father and all…"

"What?"

"Oh, Ludwig didn't tell you?"

MJ eyed the king dubiously and asked, "…You're my father?"

"I sired all six…seven of you."

"Bullshit."

MJ's mind and mouth rejected this claim, and not just because this was the first of it he was hearing. He had heard such terrible things about this man, mostly from Ludwig. There was no way they were related.

"You're the Dark King." MJ stated quietly. "You're not my father."

"I'm both of those." Bowser smiled, amused

"That's our dad?" Larry tugged on MJ's pocket.

His brother shook his head and Larry glanced unsurely between the two of them, with Lemmy standing off to the side casting glances at Bowser Junior. The redhead child wasn't speaking to him anymore and it was starting to upset him.

MJ crossed his arms and asked challengingly, "If you're our dad, how come you're just now showing up out the blue?"

"Doesn't matter." Bowser dismissed. "I'm here now."

"Why?" MJ pressed.

"We're family." The Dark King shrugged. "We ought to stick together. And besides," he grinned again. "I'm building an empire. It's only right I include all my children in it, don't you think?"

"What?" MJ frowned. "What empire? What are you talking about?"

Bowser lost his patience and gestured to the palace, asking. "Did Ludwig build this place?"

MJ nodded, not sure if he should have been giving that information out to a stranger, much less one who claimed to be their long-lost parent.

"Why don't you give me a tour then, son?" Bowser demanded more than asked. He said, "I'll answer all your questions along the way."

MJ glanced down and only had Lemmy and Larry to consult with, which meant he had to make the next decision on his own. He could either try to kick the king out, however effective that could turn out to be, or he could humor the man and possibly get some answers about his past, if the guy wasn't lying.

Eh…at least it's something to do.

"Alright, that should cover it."

Standing back, Alicia examined her work. It wasn't visible to the naked eye, of course, but she could sense its strength. She smiled to herself as she slowly turned in place, looking at every inch of her surroundings. First the door, sealed with seven layers of defensive spells not only meant to deter but to kill a certain intruder. Then she glossed over the wall adjacent to it, looking at the television she'd reconfigured to double as a means of viewing her apartment and the area surrounding it, as well as her and Dean's job locations. That'd taken some late-night sneaking around to accomplish. She looked over at the windows—which she'd magically sealed shut—and the air conditioner—which she bewitched to act as a sort of smoke detector, though instead of smoke it would alert her if any lethal gases were in the vicinity and would also dispel them before they could do any actual harm. Her gaze traveled over the couches and the bed where her fiancé was resting.

Alicia dropped her hands and crossed the room to sit at the foot of the orange-sheeted bed. Its comforter was clean, she'd made sure of that, but it was nowhere near as comfy as the one back in their apartment.

None of this is as good as home, she thought dimly, and by the looks of it Dean was feeling the same way. He was sitting not too far from her at the head of the bed with his feet on the floor and his elbows on his knees. His dreads brushed them since his head was in his hands. He was being a lot quieter than usual, and he was pretty quiet to begin with.

"Licia?"

"Hm?"

"What were you doing earlier?"

"Making sure this place is safe." She answered, rubbing her eyes.

She felt only mildly tired and that had nothing to do with expending so much magic. Okay maybe that had a small part to do with it, but mostly she was still stressed out from having her life turned upside down—yet again—by the appearance of her psychotic ex.

"You used magic?" Dean asked, because he couldn't see how anything was any safer than when they first arrived.

No boards on the door, no bars on the windows. It looked like the same three star hotel they'd checked into a few hours ago.

Alicia rubbed her face and gazed over at the young man. He was sitting up now and looked just as weary as she felt.

Oh Dean, she thought, her heart swelling with love at the sight of him. He was innocent in all this. Just a good man with a big heart and the dumb luck of falling in love with her.

He's gotta' be so lost right now, she thought. I just dropped a bomb on him then whisked him away from our apartment without a word in explanation.

Sure, she'd given him bits and pieces along the way, but she'd been much more concerned with getting their things from the apartment to the hotel while looking over her shoulder with the paranoia of an escaped convict. The whole time she'd just yanked and dragged her poor fiancé from place to place. He'd been very tolerant and for that she was unspeakably grateful.

Dean, she thought again with so much care it made her heart ache. She brought her legs up onto the bed and crawled over towards him, sitting on her knees and seeing him bring one leg up onto the bed so that they were facing each other. She touched her open palm to the side of his face and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"Baby, I'm sorry." She began, her voice waning from its normal tone to a more hushed variation.

Dean put his hand over hers and said, "You ain't gotta' cry or be sorry, 'Licia." He rubbed her knuckles gently. "Just tell me what's going on. Why are we at this hotel?"

"It's the safest place I could think of on short notice." Alicia admitted, looking down. "Don't worry. It's only temporary."

"How are we paying for this?"

Dean had to ask because he didn't recall pulling out any cash or credit cards and, now that he thought about it, neither did Alicia.

She looked away and murmured, "I have my ways."

"You used magic." He stated quietly.

She nodded and looked dead in his eyes. "I really am sorry for lying to you, Dean. I honestly didn't want to deceive you, I wanted to spare you from…I thought my past was behind me and that there'd be no reason to even mention it but…"

Dean squeezed her hand and gave her an encouraging look. She took his hand in both of hers and started messing with his fingers and nails, just giving herself something to do, something to focus on.

"I didn't know this would happen." She said. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to hear about me being…who I am and then getting freaked out and leaving me like a lot of other people have."

"Alicia." Dean took back his hand and frowned. "Why would you think that?" He sounded hurt and sincere when he told her, "I love you. That won't ever change."

She sniffed and nodded.

"Come here."

She let him pull her closer, into his lap, and for once she relished not being in control. She let him hold her because it felt like he could protect her from anything with those strong arms and though she knew it wasn't true, she still felt so safe in his embrace. Dean hugged her to his chest and let his actions speak volumes about how he felt about her.

"What are we gonna' do about your, um…" Dean spoke softly and hesitantly, but his voice gained an edge when he asked, "You think he'll come here?"

"No," Alicia said, pushing herself away and standing.

Dean stood with her and asked, "Are you sure? How did he find you in the first place?"

"He's a bounty hunter." Alicia wiped at her eyes. "He's very good at tracking me down." She then looked at the door and added, "But that doesn't matter. I'm not running from him anymore."

"What are we gonna' do, then?"

"There's no we." Alicia snapped, then said, "Sorry. I'm not including you in this, Dean. I've got to handle this on my own. Once and for all."

"That's crazy," Dean frowned, sitting on one of the couches near the window. He asked, "Why would you want to face that guy alone? He's a maniac and he's got these powers—"

"So do I," Alicia reminded him, putting her hands on her hips. She said boldly, "Matter of fact, I'm stronger than him. He stopped teaching me because he realized that."

"He was teaching you?"

"It's a long story." Alicia remarked. "I will tell you everything but right now I have to make sure you're safe."

"What about you?" Dean asked pointedly, crossing his arms.

Alicia said quickly, "I'll be alright. I just need a bit of time to figure out what to do. That's why we're here." She explained. "As soon as I'm thinking straight again we'll leave."

"What about the meantime?" Dean asked. "We still have to go to work."

"I know." Alicia said. "I can take you."

"We're two states over."

"I can teleport us back and forth."

"Right." Dean rubbed his head at the prospect of traveling so instantaneously again.

Alicia came and sank down on the couch beside him and rubbed his shoulder. She still had so much to tell him.

"I don't want you to do this alone." Dean pleaded. "There's gotta' be some way I can help." He frowned, distressed, and suggested, "I could get a gun."

"A gun?" Alicia lifted a brow, a tiny bit bemused. "What would you do with a gun, Dean?"

"Use it."

"Really?"

"I'd do anything to protect you," Dean declared.

Alicia kissed his cheek and said, "You know what? There is something you could do."

"What?" Dean asked, the eagerness all in his warm dark eyes.

She kissed him and whispered, "Love me." Wrapping her arms around his neck she said, "Just keep loving me like you do. I need that right now."

"Licia, no." Dean frowned. "What if you get killed?"

"I won't." She promised, climbing onto his lap. "Trust me. I can do this. I should have done this a long time ago it's just…" She stared off to the side and admitted, "Nikolai put me through a lot of pain and I think that's what I was really running from because, to deal with him, I'll have to deal with that, too."

She closed her eyes and felt Dean hold her round the waist. That pain was much scarier than any sorcerer. The pain of losing friends. Of having her life uprooted time and time again and being on the run. Most of all…

No, she warned herself, do not open that box. Not now. Save that for another day.

Too bad she had an extra-perceptive fiancé, for Dean was reading her face the whole time. He gently pushed her curly hair over one of her shoulders and smoothed his hand over her back. He had a feeling what it was she was thinking of.

Cautiously he asked, "What was her name?"

"No."

"Tell me," Dean implored. "It might make you feel better, 'Licia."

She shook her head, the tears finally falling. Dean wiped at her face and kissed her very lightly. When she opened her eyes, he pulled back.

"We can find her," Dean said. "We can raise her with us. You don't have to be apart from her anymore."

Alicia stared at him.

"I'd love her just as much as I love you."

Shaking her head again Alicia said, "Dean, it isn't that I don't appreciate that it's just…this is not the time. Maybe after I deal with Nikolai."

"Please let me help with that," Dean again entreated.

"No, this is way out of your league." Alicia sniffed. "If you want to take a huge load off my mind, watch your back when we get back to Brooklyn, okay? I'm gonna' put a lot of protection over you but it still helps if you're careful."

"Yeah, definitely." Dean muttered, dissatisfied but compliant.

Alicia dried her face and draped her body along the couch with her head in Dean's lap. She was so tired.

I hope Nikolai does come for me, she thought. The sooner the better. I'm ready for him to be out of my life for good.

A/N: In honor of Father's Day coming up, I think it's only fitting a certain Dark King be reunited with his kids, neh?

I hope to get the next chapter out soon. Thanks for being patient again people!

Until next time...

~DymondGold~