The Start of Something – Chapter 4

Standard Disclaimer applies in that I still don't own them and the BBC still do.

The gang's all here again! Well – this is the end. I really hope people have enjoyed the story so far and that the last part doesn't disappoint. Thanks for reading and thank you to Yassandra for your comments

Pythagoras could hardly believe his ears when he heard Hercules' loud, insistent shouting from the street below their house, urging him to get his head out of those blasted triangles and come quickly.

But he had done just that and as his heels almost screeched to a comical halt in front of his burly friend, Hercules was just beaming. "He found him!" he exclaimed, clapping him so hard on the back that he stumbled forwards a step. The man was bounding with excitement, so much so that for a second, Pythagoras could not wrap his head around his words.

"Who?" he asked, dumbly.

"Jason! Mylos did it! He just sent me word at the tavern." And with that, he spurted off down the road, with far more speed than Pythagoras would have credited him with, calling back over his shoulder. "He's by the road by the east gate of the city. Come on!"

Pythagoras started to trot forwards a few steps, automatically, his agile mind starting to catch up to his feet. "Mylos? Seriously? He did it?"

"Come on, Pythagoras. Pick your feet up!" And as Hercules rounded the corner and disappeared, a wide smile replaced his confusion and he immediately sped up to join his friend and finally bring Jason home.

Sun was streaming through the window when Jason finally opened his eyes. It took him some time to get his bearings. He was lying on a bed – not soft as he was used to the word while growing up – but comfortable and more or less sturdy. He was warm, though his body felt…strange. As though it were still getting used to its skin. A dull ache spread along the base of his head and down his neck and something cold and wet suddenly drew his attention. He reached out a hand from beneath the blanket and felt underneath his neck. His hand emerged grasping a folded damp cloth and he afforded it a puzzled look as his mind sought to remember when it had been placed there. And for that matter, when he had been placed in the bed, or carried home, or…

He sat up with a start and immediately cried out in pain as the skin and muscles across his back and sides screamed in protest. At the sound of his voice, he could hear footsteps come running towards his room. A few seconds later, Pythagoras burst in, followed so closely by Hercules that the second man barrelled into the back of his friend, sending the younger man staggering into the room. Despite his confusion, Jason's lip curled up in a crooked smile.

After shooting Hercules a pointed look, Pythagoras straightened and turned to Jason, smiling gently. "Good morning," he said, quietly. "How are you feeling? You should really lie back down," he advised. "Gently." Though he didn't know why, Jason couldn't help but agree with him and gladly did as he was instructed.

"You're looking better," Hercules interjected before Jason could respond, coming round to seat himself next to Jason with a heavy thump. "Not perky, mind you. And you still look pale. Gaunt really. And I'm not sure if there was always something wrong with your left eye but now that I'm looking at it closely…"

"Hercules!" He stopped and shrugged at his friend's exasperated expression.

"What? It's a valid question. It shows I have a passing interest in his health." Nonetheless, he allowed Jason to speak. It took a second for Jason's brain to sort through the barrage of Hercules' greeting and then to let Pythagoras' question filter through.

"Um…fine, I think." Then he paused and seemed to really think about it. "My back hurts," he said quietly. "And my throat hurts. And my head's kind of fuzzy." He trailed off, a look of pained confusion crossing his face. "In fact, everything hurts! And I seem to feel…damp – don't say anything!" he insisted forcefully, pointing an accusatory finger at Hercules.

The large man raised his hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to say anything!" he protested.

"Your fever broke last night," Pythagoras explained, patiently. He came to stand by Jason's bed and placed an assessing hand on his forehead. "We'd been using damp cloths to cool you down and you could probably use a bath, when you're feeling up to moving about and leaving the house."

"Fever?"

"I think it was brought on by the infection."

"Infection?" Dimly he imagined he could still feel the burning on his skin, prickly and irritated.

"From your injuries."

Off Jason's helpless look, Hercules exclaimed: "Honestly Jason, you're going to have to try and be a little more helpful."

"I'm sorry. I'm trying."

He looked so miserable and lost that even Hercules begrudgingly relented a little. "It's alright. I suppose it will come to you."

Tentatively, Jason reached back a hand again and felt the strips of cloth binding his back. He ran his fingers over them and winced when they pushed too hard against the lacerations.

"It looks like you were attacked by some kind of animal. Do you remember that? Leave the wound alone, Jason. It's healing well but you mustn't prod it." Jason obligingly stopped and instead, turned his thoughts to his last memories.

A foggy haze encased his brain and he fought to sift through the images floating in it. "Vaguely. Some kind of big…cat."

"A big cat?" Hercules deadpanned. "Was it hunting very ferocious mice?"

"You know!" the young man replied, annoyed at having to tax his befuddled brain for the appropriate name. Thinking hurt and right now, he didn't like doing it. "Like a mountain lion. I didn't get a great look at it because it jumped me from behind. I just remember a lot of pain and yowling…"

"From you or the cat?"

"Hercules," Pythagoras hissed.

"Sorry – just trying to clear things up." He turned back to Jason. "Do continue." Jason shot him a sour look. He never fared well, being teased when he felt sick. But it still felt so good to see his friends again that he couldn't stay mad for long.

"How long have I been here?" he wondered, seemingly forgetting the request to continue.

"We found you on the road by the east gate two days ago." Pythagoras paused, a question burning in his eyes. "You were gone nearly a week, Jason. We were all so worried about you – even Ariadne."

"Ariadne?"

"Oh," Hercules exclaimed, throwing a hand in the air. "So now he's suddenly interested." He tapped the young man sharply on the arm. "Don't go losing focus now!" he commanded. Then he levelled a very stern glare at him. It actually made Jason shuffle back a couple of inches on the bed. "You had him worried half to death," he accused. "Now where did you get to?" And suddenly, he was stumbling home three hours past his curfew and having to face his uncle Mac.

Jason glanced down at the blankets, his expression young and guilty. It suddenly made Hercules feel as old as he claimed he wasn't. "I was hunting," he admitted in a small voice. "Near the mountains."

Pythagoras thought for a moment, trying to picture the local terrain. "Which mountains?"

"Well I kind of…wound around a bit. I didn't exactly keep track of where I was going but I ended up by the mountains of Galena."

"Galena?" He winced at the volume of Hercules' question and immediately put his hand to his aching head, with a quiet hiss. On seeing this and on seeing Pythagoras' entreating look, the older man made a conscious effort to continue in softer tones. "That's nearly a day's journey – if you don't stop when it's dark! What were you thinking? Going there alone? Without telling anyone where you were off to?"

"Well to be fair," Jason protested in his defence, "even I didn't know where I was off to. My feet just kind of…took me there."

"Oh well that's alright then," Hercules huffed. "Just as long as you had a plan and provisions and a clue what you were doing. By all means, don't let me or a smidgen of common sense get in your way." Jason looked down at his hands and shifted a little guiltily on the bed.

"I'm sorry I worried you both. Really. I didn't mean to." He glanced up at his friends, hoping to see their expressions forgiving. Well, Hercules looked a little exasperated but he could see the fondness in his eyes and Pythagoras came to perch gently on the other side of his bed, his expression kind. Jason chose to focus his attention on him.

"It's alright," the young genius assured him, despite the snort from Hercules. "But why didn't you come back sooner?" Jason sighed, heavily. That part of his ordeal was slowly but surely coming back to him.

"I managed to shake the lion off. I though it was going to attack again but suddenly it just…took off."

"Took off?"

He shrugged though immediately regretted it as he felt the pain lance between his shoulder-blades. "Ran away. I didn't know why but I wasn't taking any chances that it might come back so I made it up to a cave entrance near by."

"Because goodness knows, mountain lions can't climb," Hercules interrupted. Both Jason and Pythagoras shot him a look.

"What happened next?" Pythagoras questioned, patiently.

"An earthquake, I think. Come to think of it, that's probably why it took off. I think I remember reading about animals having some kind of sixth sense about those kind of things. Didn't you feel it here?" Both his friends gave each other a concerned look before shaking their heads.

"No," Pythagoras supplied. Hercules' expression seemed to pale as a look of mild horror overcame him.

"It caved in?" the burly man guessed. Jason nodded, the memory still one that would haunt him as he recalled hearing the almighty crack and then registering the falling stones, the impact and then the suffocating darkness. It was like the whole world was coming down on him. That darkness still made him shiver.

"I was trapped," he said, quietly. "The rocks were pinning my legs and the entrance was blocked. Not that it mattered when I couldn't move." His expression was reflective and for a second, his friends worried that he was becoming lost in painful memories. He was startled then when Pythagoras placed a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked at the man with gratitude in his eyes.

"I lost track of how long I lay there. Time seems to go on forever when you can't see the sky. I tried calling for help but, obviously, there was no-one around. I tried to shift the stones off my legs but I couldn't. And everything hurt. I could feel the bleeding but I couldn't do anything to stop it. You've no idea how tight and itchy dried blood is. All I could do was lie there. And come to terms with the fact that I was going to die alone." His voice was so soft by the time he had finished, so quiet and pained that for once, even Hercules made no sarcastic reply. In fact, he placed a hand on the young man's knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Well," Pythagoras assured Jason, trying hard to put some much needed levity into his voice. "I'm very glad you're safe now. But it still doesn't explain how you got out of the cave. Someone must have helped you." Jason looked at him, helplessly. "You have no idea who it was?" He watched his friend shrug.

"I don't remember much. After a while I think I must have passed out." He paused as his mind clawed through what scattered memories he had. "Everything's so unclear," he admitted, frustration lacing his tone. "Sometimes I think I remember someone there, or voices, but I can't be sure." He balled his hand into a fist by his side. "I remember strange dreams and then moments of blackness and I can't work out what was real and what was just in my head."

Seeing the stress this was causing him, Hercules, who Jason had almost forgotten was sitting on the other side of him, stepped in. "You shouldn't get yourself too excited," he pointed out, placing a gently restraining hand on the boy's chest and pushing him further down into the bed. "Someone obviously got you out and that's the important thing. If you don't remember, it doesn't matter."

"Quite," Pythagoras agreed. "But whoever they were, they did an excellent job. When we found you, your wounds had been cleaned and treated with an expertly mixed poultice. They really knew their medicinal plants. They were wrapped, too and they must have given you water or I doubt you would have survived. Which reminds me." He stood, abruptly and left the room. Jason watched him go, a puzzled look on his face. In a moment, his friend returned with a cup in his hands.

"Help him sit up, please Hercules," he instructed and Hercules did so, sitting just behind Jason to support him. Jason frowned. Firstly from the embarrassment of being helped and then, soon after, from the trembling of his muscles when he tried to push the older man away and sit on his own. Hercules just sighed and gently pulled him back to lean against him.

Pythagoras gave him a sympathetic smile. "Be patient," he advised. "Your body has been through an ordeal and is half-starved. You've taken no food in…what has to be a week now. You'll be weak for a while. In the meantime, you need to keep your fluids balanced." He handed him the cup. "It's water, imbued with some fortifying herbs. Drink it all, but slowly." So, giving it an experimental sip, Jason decided it was alright and began to drink it down, slowly at first but then gulping it when he realised how much it eased his throat.

"Careful!" he heard Hercules scold, before the cup was tugged out of his fingers.

"Hey!" he protested in a strangled squeak. But it did not dissuade the older man.

"You can have more when you've learned how to drink with restraint."

Jason coughed a couple of times. "Look who's talking," he accused, lightly but he made no further protests and instead, concentrated on not visibly wincing when Hercules carefully lowered him back down again. He couldn't quite help the sigh of relief that eased from his lips though when he was resting horizontally once more. He suddenly felt so drained but he was damned if he was going to give in to sleep again so soon.

"It doesn't explain why whoever rescued you, would take you all the way from Galena to Atlantis but not bring you in to someone in the town," Pythagoras mused.

"Maybe he was starting to smell? Those wounds weren't the most pleasantly pungent aromas and he'd been in that cave a long time." Jason frowned and gave himself a inquisitive sniff.

"He smelled? Really?"

"It's as good a reason as any. Don't know what happened to your chest-plate though," Hercules remarked. "Or your tunic. You were wrapped in a cloak when we found you. Quite a nice one too. Might fetch a good price the next time we're short a few coins."

Suddenly, Jason's hand shot to his throat, his eyes wide. Pythagoras might almost have suspected he was choking, if it weren't for his pained cry. "My necklace!" he gasped. He started to pat the bed for it and prop himself up on his elbows, trying to look about the floor.

"Easy," Hercules, admonished.

"It's not here, I'm afraid," Pythagoras told him, quietly. "You weren't wearing it when we found you and we did have a quick look around the ground where you had been sitting, before we moved you."

"A quick look?" Jason asked. "Could you have missed it?" His eyes were so desperate and his expression so distraught that they both immediately felt guilty for not having gone over the ground more carefully at the time. Though their priority had rightly been to get their friend home and safe. Still, Pythagoras couldn't bear his friend's distress.

"I'm sorry, Jason but I really don't think so. There was nothing there. Though," he added after a second. "I can go back there today and have another look, if you like?" Jason's beseeching eyes were full of hope. Pythagoras cursed his own stupidity for putting himself in the unenviable position of having to dash his friend's hopes, again.

"Come now, Jason," Hercules attempted to console. "It's a nice trinket but it's not the end of the world. We'll pick you up another necklace in the market." But Jason just sank back into the pillow and shook his head, sadly.

"It's not the necklace itself," he said, softly. "It's the only thing and the last thing that my father ever gave me."

"Oh." He didn't seem to have a response for that. Instead, he awkwardly patted his shoulder and rose from the bed. "You should get some rest," he announced. "Things are always better after a good sleep." Weakly, Jason nodded, his heart already crippling inside as the last link he had to his father vanished. He felt the bed shift again as Pythagoras also rose.

"You need to try and eat soon," he told him. "I'll wake you in a couple of hours." Jason didn't think he felt like eating again. If the gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach did not make him feel queasy enough, the crushing sense of loneliness robbed him of what little appetite he had left. But he didn't want to upset the friends who had been so kind to him, so he merely nodded.

"Stay in bed," Hercules warned him, pointing a meaty finger his way. Again, he nodded, though his thoughts were drifting miles away. Despite himself, the exertion was becoming too great for him and Jason found his eyelids sealing shut and felt, once more, the familiar roll into the abyss.

It was a clear night and the stars shone brightly. Without the cover of cloud, the air was cooler than usual but the light of the moon, cast across a sleeping city, was too intoxicating a lure for Jason to pass up. Since his ordeal in the cave, he had surprised even himself with his intense desire to see the sky. Through a window was passable but being outside himself was even better.

Not that he had been given the opportunity. In the two days since waking, Pythagoras had gently nagged him consistently about his need to rest and eat and drink. His body still needed to gain some strength for prolonged periods of time and the young mathematician was still not satisfied with his weight gain. Given his own lanky frame, Jason hardly thought it was fair for him to be his judge on that matter. But, it seemed, Hercules agreed with the genius and when a man like Hercules thrust food at you, rather than stealing it from your plate, you could not help but pay attention.

Threats and bullying had also worked wonders on him. Hercules could be intimidating when he wanted to be, not to mention when you happened to feel as weak as newborn kitten. He was yet to be allowed outside, despite his protests but that didn't mean he couldn't creep his way out onto the balcony of their house and lean against the wall, legs outstretched, gazing up at the sky. The last few days had been challenging. Not from his physical recovery but from his mental one.

Though he was loathed to admit it, Jason still woke in cold sweats, drenched through his shirt. He woke with a suffocating feeling, choking him, crushing him. He died alone in that cave, screaming for nobody, time and time again until eventually, either his screaming woke him or worse, it woke one of his friends who flitted in to his room just long enough to hush him back to sleep and then pretend it hadn't happened in the morning. He felt ridiculous for such treatment and yet he couldn't turn it away. The darkness unnerved him now. He hadn't really noticed it before but now he was very aware of how dark it was without the artificial lighting he was used to from home.

But there was more to his dreams bothering him than he could put into words. It wasn't so much what he could remember but more what he couldn't. Every time he woke from his nightmares, just for a second, he looked to his side and saw the silhouette of a woman's figure. He never heard her voice but sometimes he could swear he felt the touch of her smooth, cool hand on his brow and whenever he did, as ludicrous as it appeared, it calmed him. Sometimes he heard a man's voice and it was so familiar that it almost made him cry with frustration, trying to hold on to the sound of it, long enough to pin it down.

And there were words: maddening words that taunted and teased him – things he was sure he must remember. Then, last night, when he woke gasping in familiar fear, he did remember and the understanding of what he had learned, filled him with such peace and joy and completeness that he felt himself start to cry with relief. And then, just as swiftly as it came to him, the knowledge left him again. All he could recall was that feeling of utter completeness and the confusing pieces of a puzzle he once had the picture to and the feeling that he would never remember why. He had been glad that he had not woken screaming, because it allowed him to cry silently to himself without detection.

"You shouldn't be out here."

Jason glanced up to the open doorway to see Hercules leaning against it. However, he didn't look like he was about to delve into another lecture, so Jason just gave him a small smile in return. "I won't be long," he assured his friend. "I just needed some air." Turning his head back to look out over the narrow street, Jason started in surprise when he felt something soft being draped around his shoulders. Hercules sat down next to him as Jason gently fingered the newly acquired blanket. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Hercules shrugged it off in his nonchalant manner. "You mustn't get cold," he lightly admonished. "There's a nip in the air tonight." Then he reached a hand across and passed Jason a chunk of bread. He looked down, saw it and sighed.

"If you feed me any more, I'm not going to fit in to my clothes!" he protested.

"They're still hanging off you," Hercules pointed out and he wasn't wrong. Jason's appetite was yet to resurface with vigour. "Just eat that," he insisted, "and I won't nag you about what you left at dinner." He watched as Jason's mouth curled in to an amused smile. "That's fair, isn't it?" he demanded, gently, the hint of teasing in his voice.

Jason didn't reply but he was rewarded by the young man taking an obliging bite out of the loaf and start chewing it slowly. Hercules gave a short nod of satisfaction. "So," he continued, leaving his friend to make a meal of chewing, "what's on your mind?" Jason shot him a guarded look, causing Hercules to shrug, innocently. "I'm not prying. Well, not really. But you look like you've got a thousand things on your mind. And I don't think your mind has room for a thousand things on it."

Jason let out a low chuckle. "Thanks a lot!" But he knew his friend's good intentions and suddenly, sitting side by side under the fresh night air, Jason felt a pressure inside his chest slowly release. "I don't sleep well," he admitted.

"I had noticed."

Jason winced. "I'm sorry," he said, embarrassment tingeing his cheeks red. "Really, you guys should just ignore me. I'll be fine." He ran a hand through his hair before burying his face in his palms. He was faintly surprised to feel a pair of strong hands pry his own away from his face. He looked in to the honest face of his friend who was wearing one of his rare, patient expressions.

"I won't think any less of you, Jason," he promised. "Well, I suppose I can't think any less of you so you've got nothing to lose by telling me." His smile disarmed any harshness in his words and Jason couldn't help but chuckle.

"No, I guess not." He sighed. "I can't help but feel as though there's something I'm missing. About the cave. Some memory that I keep having and then forgetting. At least, I'm left with impressions, pieces of the larger picture. But I can't be sure if it's real or if I just dreamt it. It's driving me crazy."

"A memory about what?"

Jason hesitated. "A woman."

"Oh," Hercules drawled, wiggling his bushy eyebrows and elbowing him gently in his uninjured side. "One of those." But Jason just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Not like that. Part of me thinks she was in the cave with me."

"A woman?" Hercules questioned, doubtfully. "She wouldn't have been able to carry you down the mountain. Are you sure it wasn't just a dream?"

Jason sighed, wearily. "Probably. But something about it felt so real and…and I remember things I think she said."

Hercules leaned in, closer. "What things?" he asked, curiously. For a moment, he thought Jason would tell him. The young man opened his mouth to speak but at the last minute a look of fear flashed across his face. He closed his mouth again.

"Doesn't matter," he mumbled quietly. "I was just dreaming and I'd rather not say." He paused, for a moment afraid that he had hurt the man's feelings. But Hercules just shrugged,

"As you like. Come on," he said, rising to his feet and extending a hand to pull Jason up. "It's time to go back inside." Jason groaned but nonetheless, allowed himself to be pulled up standing, taking care not to aggravate the healing claw marks along his side.

"I don't want to go back," he protested though he still followed his friend inside. "I know you. You're going to say that a whole four hours of consciousness is far too long and that I need to rest some more."

Hercules turned to him, his expression once more resolute. "You do need to rest, Jason. Trust me – you'll thank me one day." And with that, he ushered the protesting young man towards his room.

The Oracle's intricately painted hands swirled the waters, inked with blood, in her scrying bowl. She breathed in the pungent smell of the burning incense and smoking animal entrails and the thick, close air was almost stifling.

"Surely you must know the answer yourself," she told the waiting woman. "You swore an oath to Poseidon. To even consider breaking such a promise would far from please the Gods."

From behind her, she heard the queen sigh, sharply and allowed herself a tiny, triumphant smile. "I do not know why you cannot answer a single one of my questions without twisting it back onto me," Pasiphae muttered. "I only wished to know the ramifications should I…"

"When you…"

The woman nearly snarled. "When I grant Aeson's request." The Oracle finally turned to face her as she continued. "Is that so much to ask? Given you have kept every other pertinent piece of information from me!"

But the Oracle merely shook her head. "I tell..."

"…only what the gods reveal to you. Yes, I have heard these words before and I yet cannot help but marvel at their… convenience."

The Oracle raised a faintly amused eyebrow. "You question the Gods?"

The queen's expression soured and twisted. "I question you," she retorted. "I do not believe it the same thing. No matter. I shall uphold my end of the accord. He did…do what I asked him to. He helped me save my son."

"Is that why you keep it?" The question startled Pasiphae.

"Keep it?" However, her hand unconsciously betrayed her, moving to the silk purse that hung from her belt. The Oracle rose and stepped towards the queen. Pasiphae immediately drew back but not before the mystic had pointed a finger to the purse. Pasiphae set her mouth in a tight line. Her fingers deftly loosened the cord of the purse and slipped inside, withdrawing the gleaming necklace as though she felt again the pressing urge to hold it.

"It is not yours to keep," the Oracle pointed out, without any real malice – more honest curiosity. She was sure the queen meant to look scathing and dangerous…but in actuality, she only looked sad.

"He is not mine to keep. The necklace is the least I am owed."

"I suppose that answers what I came here for."

It was as if time itself had slowed to a halt in that single sentence. That voice, so unexpected and so achingly familiar. Pasiphae saw herself turn and a cold wave washed across her body. The necklace clattered to the floor and the Oracle took one step backwards. Whether or not she had been expecting this, none could say for sure.

"Jason?" Pasiphae's whisper echoed around those sacred walls.

Her son stood on the steps looking lost, alone, confused and angry. If he hadn't been numbed with pain and betrayal, he would have been trembling with anger. "I came hoping she would finally be honest with me," he intoned in a low, strangled voice, barely indicating the Oracle with a nod of his head. "But it turns out you're the only answer I needed." His voice sounded so raw, so confused and so young.

The Oracle, it seemed, had melted into the background, leaving mother and son to face each other. Pasiphae's mouth hung open. Her lips moved silently, forming words she couldn't put a voice to.

He knew. He knew. All her plans, all her safeguards and manipulation…all had come to nothing because here was this boy, standing before her; hurting, needing. And now that he knew, Pasiphae finally allowed the rest of him into her heart.

"Jason," she said again, finally finding her voice. She watched him recoil visibly when she called him by name. It was a fine name: she had given it to him. Had he ever heard her say it before? Vaguely, she tried to remember and could not. He was hovering on the bottom step, his feet frozen in place. But his eyes were darting wildly. She knew the look – like a frightened animal, caged and unsure whether to make a stand or flee. His mother didn't know him well enough yet to know which way he would turn.

"Will you stay a moment?" she heard herself ask him, close to pleading. "Just a few moments. I believe we have some things we must…discuss." It felt too soon to smile but she hoped her face did not betray her emotions: her doubt, her love, her own fears. She watched him a moment longer. His hands shook slightly by his sides though it was not in anger. His face was still pale and drawn – he should still be resting, it suddenly occurred to her.

Jason watched this woman; his queen, his enemy, his mother. He watched her, transfixed. And then, just like that, his left foot moved down a step and the other followed. He saw her release a breath that he hadn't realised she'd been holding. It helped to make her more…human. But more than that? He didn't know. None of this was right. None of this was real. Yet he stayed and he listened because what else could he do?

As Pasiphae prepared to speak, she still did not know what she was going to say. But that did not matter. At that moment, there were only the two of them in the world and nothing else. Jason was hers. He was. Jason knew it and soon, Minos would know it, too. She did not know what the future held for them from here on out, but they would not spend it hiding from the truth any longer.

The End. Thanks for reading It's been an interesting dip in the waters and I hope people have enjoyed it.