Title : Whispers of a Nightmare
Genre : Anime/Manga
Category : Full Metal Alchemist
Disclaimer : Nope, this one belongs to someone else as well.
Summary : Takes place after the incident with Nina. Something's wrong with Ed, and Al just can't quite figure out what it is. Serious situations and angst ensue.
Warnings : Angst, mild language, violence, and other issues that shall go unnamed for now. I don't want to give away too much of the plot just yet, now do I? ;)
Rating : T
Chapter 17 : The Long and Endless Road of Deprecation
He was lost in a land of peacefulness, at least for the time being. But subconsciously, he knew it would only last for a little while longer. There were too many reminders to be had of the sins he had committed years ago in a war that would never go forgotten. He tossed and turned, a state of restlessness drifting over his worn body. Sleep had passed over his eyes easy enough, but the place it was transporting him to was one he had no desire to visit, but unable to control it, he was planted there, forced to see images of times past.
The dust and wind blew through his jet black hair, the heat scorching his skin, the sand torturing his eyes. He moved forward, screams echoing through the back of his mind. Everywhere he turned, destruction lay at hand, the blood of innocents littering his proudly worn uniform. Their cries resonated through his head, so loud the thought of his head exploding coming to mind.
He could feel held back tears threatening to spill onto his weary cheeks, but they were forced back, just like any emotion that tried to escape the confines of his detachment. They all had their orders, and he had his. It was a merciless game he was stuck playing, times such as this making him recall the contract that he had signed, giving his life away to the military that was supposed to be great.
His onyx eyes glanced at the sky, the sun banished from it just as the people they were killing would be from their land. A shiver wracked his spine, he ignoring it just as he did with everything else. It was useless to pay attention to things that once meant something but held no value anymore, just no reasoning for it.
The young man pushed forward, explosions of sand and dirt at his sides. The whispering wind deposited more blood on him, his eyes narrowing in reflex. He wanted to vomit, a nauseated feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, but he didn't, holding back the feeling to omit any signs of weakness.
He could feel his fingers snapping, flames and fire shooting from the ignition his glove was giving off, remorse settling itself deep within his soul, to be unlocked at a later time. The sky burned shades of orange and red, casting its eerie glow upon his face, giving him the appearance of a ghost, literally walking through a land of the dead.
His comrades voices seared through his head, etching their fear into his brain, making a mark for every fallen soldier and Ishbalan alike; but he pushed on, knowing that his trip didn't end there. No, he'd be forced to go on farther. Surely, he hadn't done enough damage or killed enough people for the likings of the Fuhrer yet.
Anger built within him, alongside the constant fear that was eating away callously at his heart, and it propelled him, shoving him further into the chaos and catastrophe that was awaiting him. And he flowed with it, letting it take him wherever he was supposed to go.
And even though he knew it was a dream, a subconscious decision on his part, he allowed it to happen to himself over and over again, making it out to be punishment for the acts he had committed there. But he knew, no matter how many times he watched it play out, it was always have the same ending : He would live and continue on with his life as though nothing happened; and the people whose ashes had made their home in the sand would be forever cast into oblivion, forgotten about as though they never even existed.
All this he knew but ignored, more images of pain and hate flashing before his broken eyes. And as he moved along, he knew that the end of the dream was starting to come upon him. Yes, this was the part where he made his way out of the hellish nightmare of the desert and into the infirmary tent. Where most people forgot their dreams when the living hours came to take them away into the real world of reality, his stuck with him, every part of this nightmare memorized thoroughly, as he'd ordered himself to do.
It was always the same, their two kind faces appeared before him, kind even though they were terrified with worry. They greeted him, explained as politely as possible that they had a job to do and that people needed them, no matter their race or color, gender or rank. If there was someone injured, then they deserved to be treated too, just as any human being should.
And he knew their words were honest and true, they were doing what they believed to be right, ignoring the military's orders of just sticking to their own kind. But along with their passion and want to help anyone in need came their plain, outright disregard of orders, and he was sent there to see that they no longer disobeyed. But they didn't listen, they told him that what they were doing needed to be done. But something changed this time during the sequence of events that normally took place. This time, their faces disappeared, his loaded gun shaking at absolutely nothing.
His onyx eyes widened at this, not understanding what was going on. It was always the same; he'd look into their innocent faces and pull the trigger twice, hitting one in the head and the other in the heart, telling himself that at least they had gone together and not separately as most people in love would hate. But this image did not befall his horrified expression this time, it was replaced with someone else. And as the image grew clearer, panic hit him straight in the gut, not understanding why the difference had occurred.
His mouth opened slightly, his armed hand drooping a bit at the sight of the boy that stood before him, a terrified expression marking the twelve year old's face as well. The golden haired boy cowered before him, shaking and trembling, his matching golden eyes locked on the loaded gun that was pointed directly at his forehead.
"Please, Colonel…no," he whispered, not able to make his voice any louder. "I'm sorry!" he pleaded, his legs giving out beneath him. He collapsed to the ground with a light thump, his too large coat gathered around him. His golden locks hung in his face, sweat pouring down his temples and forehead. "Please, sir…"
The expression that etched across the Lieutenant Colonel's face could only be described as pure and utter dread, shock slowly lacing its way through his system as well. Tremors wracked his taut body, sweat soaking his palms as he stared into the eyes of Edward Elric, the boy he was supposed to keep safe, whether the kid knew it or not. He tried to move his lips to form words or a sentence--anything, but nothing came, just complete and dead stillness on his end. There came a whimper or two, but nothing more.
"I'm sorry, Colonel. I'm so sorry… It wasn't supposed to be this way," Edward stated through tears, his voice breaking as he spoke. He curled in on himself, his hands turning into tiny, clenched fists in front of him, his body shaking violently. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you…Please, Colonel, please forgive--" His voice was cut off as a shot rang through the air, a small hole taking residence in his forehead. His golden eyes rolled instantly as his now bloodied golden locks flew about his face, a murmur of, "Me," befalling his lips as he fell back onto the ground.
Onyx eyes slowly traveled to the barrel of his gun, a faint haze of smoke lazily billowing out the end of it. Something that sounded like a sob escaped from his quivering lips, his grip instantly loosening on the weapon, it falling to the floor before him. He was frozen, unable to move from the spot he was in, his tortured eyes forcing more abuse upon himself as he stared at the small corpse that lay in front of him.
Blood continued to ooze out of the bullet wound, the boy's cherubic face tainted with his own life-giving substance. It streamed down his temple, making a trail from his forehead to the braid that his head rested on, his mouth opened slightly. The light that had always been in those bright, golden orbs was extinguished by the small lead-filled object that had now made a home in his brain.
All this, Lieutenant Roy Mustang watched in sheer horror until he was abruptly woken from his sleep by a loud knocking at his door, he still numb from the effect of the dream. It took a moment before he was able to register exactly what was going on, but soon exited the discomfort of his bed and cracked the door, an employee of the inn staring back at him courteously from the other side.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your sleep, sir, but there's a phone call for you downstairs," the woman explained as politely as possibly, an obviously forced grin upon her lips, the military not exactly held in high regards in Kiase.
"And?" he asked, evidently pissed from the rude awakening, though not too badly judging from what he had been awakened from.
"It's the Fuhrer, sir," she stated, her auburn hair appearing to be just as fake as the color of lipstick she wore. "And he says that it's important," she added, polite as ever.
"I'll be right down," he replied, sleep more than apparent in his deep voice, it taking on a gravelly tone. He closed the door rather rudely, but he didn't quite care at the moment. He didn't care for this damned town anyway.
He quickly dressed, throwing on his over shirt, and boots. Not even bothering to comb his hair, he made his way downstairs and over to the phone, putting on his best "awake" voice.
"Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang, sir," he stated into the phone, his voice hiding the anger that was plastered across his face in the form of a magnificent scowl, it greeting all those who bothered to throw him so much as a glance.
"Good afternoon, Lieutenant," the Fuhrer's seemingly always cheerful voice acknowledged him from across the phone line. "I see you've made your way back to Kiase. Weren't you just there awhile ago?" he questioned with light curiosity.
"Yes, sir, I was; but as it turns out, this is the hometown of the two escapees and we have a confirmed sighting reported about ten kilometers to the west and that they were more than likely headed here. We've stationed ourselves at the inn, ready to apprehend them as soon as they make an appearance, sir," the story spun from his mouth, he almost surprised at how convincing it sounded.
"Well, then, very good, Lieutenant. I have no doubt in my mind that you'll be on your way back to Central with those two very soon. Continue on, and notify me as soon as you've taken them in," the older man ordered, his tone authoritative but friendly.
"Yes, sir," Mustang replied, relieved the other man believed his story, letting out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding after the line disconnected. He turned around, knowing his subordinate had been listening in the entire time. She stared at him, awaiting his orders. "Come on, Lieutenant, let's get something to eat," he suggested, disappearing into the dining room, thoughts of the dream still haunting his mind.
&&&&&
The two boys had traveled in silence for all of ten minutes before the hardheaded twelve year old stopped abruptly, a determined expression stretching across his already taut face. Al could easily tell by looking at him that Ed was waging a mental war in his head, and whatever was going on in there would ultimately lead to trouble. He waited, knowing he wasn't going to like whatever the departure of Ed's lips brought.
"He knew something," the words mumbled automatically from the boy's mouth, his golden orbs drifting through the haze of the forest up into Alphonse's soul-filled ones, mischief already set into place.
"Brother…" Al warned, ready to go into full lecture mode, the list of reasons why they should or shouldn't do something already coming to mind.
"He knew something, Al," Ed repeated, his golden eyes flashing with curiosity. "He's hiding something from us!" the tirade of words followed suit, the boy's volume level raising by leaps and bounds. "We should go back," he stated, calming slightly as he turned around in the direction they had just came from, a yelp escaping his throat as he felt strong hands wrap around his waist and pick him up. "Hey! Put me down, Al! Now! Put me down! Put me down!" he shouted, squirming frantically to get out of his little brother's arms, knowing all the while his movements would only do more bad than good.
"Brother!" Alphonse shouted, immediately silencing the small frame he still held in his metallic arms.
Edward stared straight, his eyes glimmering with a touch of defeat, unable to control his impulsiveness. He felt so close to getting somewhere, yet so far away at the same time. All he wanted was to get Al his body back, and if that man knew something--anything, then he would use whatever piece of information he did have to get closer, even if it was only just a step, at least it was further than where he was at now.
"Stop and think sometimes, Ed. We can't just go running back there and ask him questions all day. He already kicked us out of his house once today, so do you honestly thing he's going to let us back in? We haven't exactly been the most polite of guests you know," Alphonse reminded in a reprimanding tone, saddened by at how stiff his brother had become. He quietly set the boy back down, sadness tainting his soul.
"I know that, Al," the statement came through grit teeth, his glare fixed at the ground. "But if there's something he deliberately kept from us, something that could lead us to getting your body back; then I'm going back to find out!" the exclamation poured from the young alchemist's lips, anger flaring in his tone.
Alphonse looked down at his older brother, feeling sad yet proud, knowing that no matter how much he and Ed fought or argued, they'd always be there for each other. Sometimes, they just didn't see eye to eye, but that was only natural. Though Ed's stubbornness still pissed him off sometimes, whether he vocalized it or not. This was one of those moments he debated, stop him or go along?
On one hand, Ed did have a point. Rian was obviously keeping something from them; but was it for their protection, or for his own personal reasons? But on the other hand, if they in deed went back there and irked the man even further, what if he did unreasonable, or worse? Or plain just ignored them, which would more than likely be the right answer. Why does it always have to be like this, the thought made its way around Al's mind.
A breathless sigh escaped from the metal interior, immediately regretting the conclusion he'd let himself come to. "Fine, but if he tells us to go away, we're leaving. It's no use trying to get information from someone if they aren't going to give it anyway," he stated, sounding more and more like he was the elder sibling every day. "I mean it, Ed," he gave off another warning as he followed his older brother back into the thick brush. After watching him struggle on his legs a few times, he couldn't help but ask, "Are you sure you don't want me to carry you?"
"I'm not an invalid, Al!" the blonde shot back through a clenched jaw, a grunt of pain escaping the confines of his mouth as he tripped over a tree root, falling helplessly to the forest floor. "Dammit," he mumbled, pushing himself back up though stumbling once more.
"Brother, are you sure-"
"Yes, I'm sure!" Edward exclaimed, propelling himself forward once more, pain shooting every few seconds up and down his right leg. He closed his eyes tight for a moment, willing it to go away, but he knew he'd have a better chance of getting hit by lightning than that happening. He knew the wound was deep, he just didn't realize how far down it had actually cut. His brow narrowed as he took another step, not wanting to admit how much it truly hurt. He was supposed to be strong, and he couldn't be strong if he cried and complained all day. "Sorry, Al," he whispered, nearly out of breath, sweat dripping down his face. He looked up, hoping they were heading in the right direction.
His little brother continued to follow him, not saying a word. The feelings that were washing over him were indescribable at the moment, he unable to sort through them. All he wanted was for Ed to take a step back and think for a minute, but instead, the boy had his own agenda, deciding that his way was best, no matter the consequences.
Time passed by, yet they still hadn't made it back to Rian's house, that fact now nagging at the older boy. He stopped, glancing down at his pocket watch, his brow decreasing further as his eyes traced the thin hands on the small possession, the time being much later than the original ten minutes he thought it would take to get back to their intended destination. Instead, it had been over two hours, he finally realizing that they had obviously made a wrong turn somewhere.
"We're lost, aren't we, Brother?" Alphonse asked, his metal arms crossed over one another. Somehow, he had just known that something like that was going to happen, and once again, he had failed to prevent it. The pattern of their life was becoming all too clear.
"Not-not exactly," Ed tried, knowing that his little brother was far more intelligent that to believe his lie. His shoulders hung with defeat, the hands of exhaustion creeping over his small body once again. "Yeah, pretty much," he mumbled, hobbling over to a tree stump and sitting down. The pain in his leg had subsided to a dull, numbing throb that he had managed to redirect to the back of his mind, though the longer he rested it, the more the pain came crawling back to the center of his attention.
"So what do we do? It's not like we have a map to go by anymore. And on top of that, Rian said that it would take two days or more to reach Kiase on foot, and that's with only taking a six hour break each day. We won't get there until next week at this rate," he stated, his youthful voice holding the tiniest hint of frustration. "And I haven't even brought Colonel Mustang into the equation yet!" more words leaked out, he too sitting down a few yards away from his older brother.
"Don't worry about him," Ed mumbled, undoing the bandage that encased the wound. The corners of his mouth decreased, a frown edging across his lips. Even though Al had cleaned the wound the previous night, it had reopened(due to Ed's stubbornness), obviously an effect from the constant use he was putting it through. Dried and fresh blood alike were caked around it, the slit in his skin widening the further down the gash went. He felt nauseous just looking at it, the thing obviously going to need stitches soon or infection was sure to settle over it; and with that came the possibility of him having to pay Winry for another piece of automail, due once again to his carelessness.
"Ed, what were you dreaming about last night?" Alphonse's voice came from the steel suit, quiet and sounding indirectly marked with guilt.
A quick gasp escaped the twelve year old's mouth, the question taking him by surprise. His golden bangs slid down, hiding the face of pain he was currently holding. He grimaced, not wanting to divulge more his problems onto his little brother. The irritating wound he had sustained was enough at the moment. He remained silent as he rewrapped his leg, not caring that he needed a clean bandage to put back on it.
"Brother, please don't ignore me. Whatever it was, it was something awful and frightening. I know it. You can tell me about it, Ed. I'll understand," the younger boy offered, gazing up at his older brother who was still content on hiding his face and keeping his mouth shut for once. Al watched as Edward stood to his feet once more, his right leg threatening to give out at any given time.
"Let's get going. We're never gonna get to Kiase if we keep resting all the time," the bitter-sounding tone parted the child's lips, he taking a step and then immediately crashing to earth's hard surface. A pained grunt made its way out of his mouth, angry tears glistening in his eyes.
Alphonse immediately reached down to help him back up, but was pushed away, the elder boy deciding to struggle on his own. The anger the eleven year old had managed to tame for the time being swam to the surface, his level of understanding dropping down to nothing. Sometimes, Ed was just too stubborn for his own good.
"I'm helping you whether you like it or not! I'm sick of you thinking you have to do everything on your own, Brother! I am here, you know! And I'm not helpless either!" Al yelled, a gauntlet grabbing hold of the boy's automail arm. "Now stop being so stubborn and let me help you!" The pain that emanated from the metal shell was more than evident in the older boy's ears, but a part of him just couldn't accept the assistance his little brother was so willingly trying to give.
"I said I can do it myself, Al! So just leave me alone!" he maintained his hardened stance, attempting to shrug out of his brother's powerful grasp, though he knew it was useless. "Let go of me, dammit!" he cried, his voice hanging on the edge of hurt.
"No, Brother! I'm going to help you," Al stated, trying to calm down, though that was a feat in itself as the smaller boy continued his quest to aggravate the hell out of the younger one. "Now stop struggling and let me carry you!" he ordered, slowly pulling Ed up from the depths of despair he had fallen into.
Stubbornness continued to control the older boy's actions, he still thrashing around as though his life depended on him walking, and walking alone. Even when he felt himself being lifted through the air and onto his younger sibling's back, he still wanted to rebel, though the exertion that had been slowly snaking through his veins was starting to get the better of him. He still refused to give in, his body pulled as tight as a rubber band about to snap.
"Just put me down," he whispered dejectedly, his vision growing more blurry as tears filled it. He was on the verge of a breakdown, something he was not prepared to take on, with or without his little brother's help.
"No," Al stated firmly, his gloved hands supporting his older brother gently. "Now tell me what you dreamt about, Ed. I have the right to know," the sentiment echoed off the child's voice, he making his way through the thick shrubbery.
"It was just a stupid dream, Al. It doesn't matter," another whisper parted the boy's pouted lips, his golden eyes staring off listlessly. His arms hung limply at his sides, his cheek laying flat against the cool metal of Al's back.
"It does matter, Brother. Whatever you saw terrified you. And you can deny it all you want, but I've never seen you look so frightened in my life. You don't have to be afraid to tell me things. Just because I'm trapped in here doesn't mean I don't understand," the eleven year old explained, trying his hardest to help his older brother, the task seeming more and more fruitless the further they continued to walk in silence.
"I don't want to talk about it," Edward muttered, closing his eyes, feeling utterly helpless and pathetic already. It didn't take long for the independence he had thrived on for as long as he could remember to disappear, his strength going right along with it.
"When did you decide you were going to shut me off like this, Ed?" the woe-filled, yet tainted with anger inquiry came, taking the elder boy by surprise. "When did you decide that I wasn't important anymore?" another question came, making the boy raise his head from his lethargic position.
"What are you talking about, Al? You're the most important thing to me!" Edward declared in his defense, ignoring the heaviness of his eyelids.
"Well, you're sure not acting like it, now are you?" the younger boy shot back, his footsteps growing faster and louder, anger propelling him forward.
"It's not like I'm trying to make you feel that way!" the response came, hurt actually making an appearance in the boy's tone. He could feel his heart sinking, tears stinging his golden orbs.
"Then what are you doing, Ed? Trying to shelter me from the truth? Because if that's your excuse, then I don't--"
"It was about you," the quiet interjection came, the twelve year old's normally loud and somewhat obnoxious voice trading for a more hushed and anguish-filled tone. He laid his head back down and closed his eyes, preparing for the onslaught of questions that were about to erupt from his little brother's shell.
"About me?" Alphonse asked, confusion in his tone. "But, Brother, what could have honestly been so bad that you acted like that towards me? I mean, Ed, the thought of me even coming within five feet of you scared you to death! You wouldn't let me near you until I was finally able to wake you up."
"I saw what you would look like if you were normal, in a normal eleven year old's body," Edward answered, his voice lowered to such a quiet volume Al almost couldn't hear him speak. "That's all," he added, automatically feeling like a silly child for reasons that were unknown to even him.
"That can't be all of it, Ed. You don't have to lie. Why were you so afraid of me when you woke up? Did I…hurt you?" the question filtered through the steel suit and into the smaller boy's ears, he instantly regretting hearing those words. He knew better than to answer truthfully, knowing that somehow Al would blame himself for the abuse he had been subjected to in the dream.
"No, Al," he lied quietly, feeling sleep come to claim him once again. "You didn't hurt me. I hurt myself," he whispered, an uneasy rest slipping over his nerves, he falling into it reluctantly.
The younger boy continued to walk, worry plaguing his soul.
&&&&&
"So you didn't see anything either?" the restless tone came from Major Hughes lips, he inwardly longing to be with his wife and daughter, though he knew better. He stared past the man he was interviewing, the tenth one that day and still no luck. No one had seen anything on that night, even though it had been clear. A wild goose chase was the only phrase that was coming to mind, one that he had been all too familiar with.
Making his way over to a nearby table, he poured himself another cup of coffee, watching the black liquid fall oh-so-slowly into the cheap ceramic military issued mug. A look of disdain washed over his face, but the caffeine substance was the only thing that was going to help him get through the next ten persons who more than likely didn't know or see anything either. Hughes sighed, taking a sip from the lukewarm substance, letting it trickle down his throat.
"Alright, who's next?" he called out flatly, glancing at the small group of people that were left. His hazel eyes scanned the small crowd, landing on a woman with the brightest shade of green for eyes he'd ever seen. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was just something about her that made her stick out. "Um, ma'am?" he nodded towards her, gesturing for her to follow him. "Take a seat," he offered, pointing to an uncomfortable looking metal chair. "So, how are you doing today?" he asked politely, fatigue wearing his smile thinner and thinner each time his lips parted.
"Fine, thank you," she replied, her voice holding a hushed tone. Honey brown hair hung to just below her shoulders, a fair complexion hidden underneath her swaying locks. She pushed a stray strand behind her ear and cleared her throat, her emerald eyes meeting his.
"So, we'll just get started," Hughes stated, glancing down at the list of the remaining nine, wishing the day would just retire itself already. "You were one of the passengers on the train that night, correct?" he asked, peering at her through his glasses, a few strands of his own hair falling into his face.
She was silent for a moment, continuing to hold his stare. "Yes, I was," she finally replied, straightening up in her seat. She pulled her long, black traveling coat closer to her as though she were cold. She cleared her throat once more, her eyes inadvertently missing his for a moment, her nerves apparently getting the better of her.
"So, did you see anything?" he inquired bluntly, something about the woman eating at him. In a way, she seemed familiar, but then again, there were plenty of woman in Central who could have reminded him of her. But there was just something about those eyes…
"Actually, I did," she stated, no longer avoiding his gaze. "I was seated near the front of the train." She paused to lick her lips, then continued. "It was quite dark outside, being close to midnight and all, but when I looked outside, just before the train derailed, I saw someone on the tracks," she went on, her eyes intently locked on his, not stopping even when she saw the faint tinge of surprise run through his visage. "There was some type of blue light on the tracks, and that's when I felt the train jerk, then everything went dark."
The awe that was slowly washing over his system was tainted by fear, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He stood up from the make-shift table he had been leaning on, acting as casually as possible as he removed a crick from his neck. "You didn't happen to see what this someone looked like, did you?" he queried, coming to a stop in front of her, clip board hanging loosely in his hands.
She nodded, biting her bottom lips before she spoke. "I wasn't able to make out their face since we were too far away, but the one thing I did see was red, a long red coat."
His eyebrow couldn't help but twitch as he heard her statement, though he was quick to put back on his cool façade. "Well, thank you, Miss-"
"Miss Lane," she finished for him, standing to her feet, her emerald eyes locking with his once more.
"Right, Miss Lane," he repeated, letting the name circulate through his brain. "Well, thank you very much. You've been a great help with this investigation. Um, is there any way I can reach you if I have any further questions later on?" the hazel eyed man let the inquiry filter through the air, scrutinizing every move she made, a nagging feeling still parading through the back of his head.
"Sure," she answered politely as she handed him a small piece of paper, her crimson lips turning up into a smile. "I'll be arriving there in a few days," she stated, making her way out of the make-shift tent, flashing him anther grin before disappearing behind the tent flap.
Not even bothering to so much as give it a glance, he picked up the phone, dialing the number the Lieutenant Colonel had given him. He waited as one of the inn employees went to get the onyx eyed man, Hughes waiting impatiently across the line. "Come on, Roy," he muttered, his fingers tapping nervously on the table.
"This better be good," a deep voice grumbled into the receiver, Hughes eyes immediately lighting up the moment he heard it.
"Roy, I think we have a problem…"
Author's note : Hmm, I'd better stop while I'm ahead…;) JK
Thank you guys so much for your continuous support of this story. I never thought when I first started writing it that I'd get this kind of response. You all are too kind, and very much appreciated. Hopefully, the chapter sufficed.
Once again, THANK YOU to OrangeKittyAlchemist-Sony, Hitokiri Musei, hyperdude, Roy-Fan-33, Akamori-chan, JChrys, CrystalMind, BlackHalliwel, Legendary Chimera, Aemilia Rose, Hasso, ssj2raider, ThePatheticWriter, Harryswoman, Flashlight Maniac, TelevisionGod, Lyemi, vampirelf, Kagome92111, marufu-chan, DarkAmber112, inuyasha133030, and all the rest of you who have put me on one of your lists. THANK YOU so, so much, and I want to take a quick second to thank those who reviewed my one-shot And The Midnight Hour Awaits Us. THANKS goes to Twilight-Cullen, EdxRoy4ever, Buddi-chan, RealmicSorcerer, JChrys, and Roy-Fan-33. All of your reviews meant so much to me, so honestly, thank you guys. ;) Hopefully, this chapter sufficed. And the other one-shot too. ;)