FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK... FUCK... Seriously?! I had posted this chapter January 19... And didnt realize till now that it hadnt actually posted... FUCK. I hate life . ugh... whatever, I'm sorry everyone... :( Now to respond to everyone's revews ALL THE WAY FROM CHRISTMAS!

Lilitu Nightmare: Dude, that stuff sounds epic xD i want a sewing machine! :D

Darkis Shadow: Yeah, gotta love a confused Death OuO

Dandy999: SUP DANDYMAN! Man, im not THAT good at this xD but ooooo GTA V :D niiice~

Crazy Fanfic Fan: Woah O.O please no exploding xD that shit gets messy XD but here you go, more :D

DecepticonQueen: :D

Shatteredglasscrimsontears: Thank you ^.^ and man, that sounds amazing :D i really want a tatoo :)

Iris felt horrible. Literally, she felt like death rolled over (no joke intended). She didn't even know where she was, only knew that she was sick. Very sick.

Her head was pounding and she could hear her heartbeat rushing in her ears. Flashes of pain were sent through her aching body with every beat. Her skin felt like it was on fire although she was shivering madly as if she was cold. Her throat was raw and it hurt to breath, and since her nose was stuffed, she was forced to breath through her mouth, making it dry. Her chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it, and suddenly her body was wracked with coughs.

Finally, after some time, her surroundings became known to her. A nice, soothing warmth was coming from something fuzzy and large curled up at her stomach while a stronger, more intense heat came from somewhere in front of her. She was on her side, curled up beneath what seemed like a mountain of sheets judging by the weight. Though with all the warmth around her, she was still shaking violently.

Suddenly, what seemed like a hand slid under her upper back and she was forced to sit up. She was still too tired to open her eyes, and really couldn't care less to.

Something was placed to her lips, and her foggy brain registered it as a bowl. Out of instinct, as the bowl as tilted, she drank whatever warm liquid was in it. She cringed, however, when her felt like it was burning, and she was thrown into yet another coughing fit.

The bowl left her mouth, and she was allowed to lie back down again under all the blankets. Something damp and cold was pressed to her forehead, and her shivering slightly increased. She was desperate now to get warm. Anything to stop her chills.

Her aching hands searched for anything warmer than her blankets. The heat that had been pressed to her stomach was gone, and the heat in front of her was dimming. In her attempt to find warmth, she had reached up to take away the cold thing on her head and suddenly felt something warm. Not really caring what it was, she quickly grabbed onto it.

Her relief didn't last, though, for what she had recognized as a hand drew away. Weakly, her eyes cracked open to see a dimly lit, blurry room. A tall shadowed figure was kneeling beside her.

She watched silently as the figure dipped a rag in a nearby bucket before wringing it out and placing it on her forehead again. Iris shivered, and tried to turn away from it but to no avail.

"Stop..." She croaked, her voice weak and barely over a whisper. Her head throbbed in pain again, and Iris winced.

"Do you want to get better or not?" The figure said, sternly but quietly.

Iris didn't bother recognizing his voice, "It's cold..."

"Just endure it. You should feel lucky, in fact. I would have easily let you die out there if I did not need you..." He growled.

Iris frowned, "What're you... Talkin' 'bout...?" By now her eyelids were becoming heavy and her speech becoming muddled.

The figure sighed, "Never mind that. Just know that once you recover, you will show me those books."

"Books..." Iris grumbled, already falling back into an uncomfortable sleep.

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Death stood up that next morning from his spot on the couch where he had rested. (He still refused to actually call it sleeping) He spared a glance at the still sleeping Iris before stretching his stiff limbs. She was as motionless as the dead but her thick, ragged breathing was easily audible in the quiet room. With one last neck crack, he looked out the window. The snow wasn't as deep as it was when he'd first arrived, but he suspected that it would reach up to his knees.

Silently, he walked into the kitchen and pulled out a small box from a cabinet labeled Earl Grey. Wordlessly, he prepared it from the directions on the box like he had done with the soup last night. He might be clueless with knowing all this technology, but he did learn quickly. When the tea was done, he walked back over to Iris again and had her sit up like before. Death sighed. He hated playing babysitter. He was constantly telling himself that he was only helping the woman because he needed her knowledge of earthly things to use to his advantage. But he knew in the back of his mind that this was his way of thanking Iris for saving his life. Death was simply repaying a debt.

Suddenly, Iris sat up quickly, swallowing what she could of the tea as she struggled to get to her feet. Death stood back, placing the now half empty cup on the coffee table, and watched as the woman fumbled around like a newborn.

She broke into a violent coughing fit as she suddenly leaned on Death for support. The rider looked down at her with apathetic eyes as she gripped weakly onto his shirt and tried to push herself up again, but to no avail.

"And what on earth do you think you are doing?" Death asked.

Iris didn't seem to hear him but was still grumbling softly to herself, "My... Animals... Gotta feed..." She broke off again.

Death grabbed her shoulders and sighed, "Absolutely not. You barely have the strength to stand, much less go out into the cold again."

"My animals..." She continued to grumble, out of it completely. Death rolled his eyes. It was obvious she wouldn't be communicating anytime soon.

"If you are so worried, I will feed them... There is not much else to do anyway..." He grumbled, setting the now asleep Iris back inside her blanket cocoon.

After throwing on his trench coat and hat and Dust on his shoulder, Death stepped out into the snowy wasteland. But as he walked to the stairs, he paused. He had absolutely no idea what the other animals ate, or where to find the food.

"Dammit..." The rider growled, rubbing his temples in annoyance. As he debated on what to do, a deep gruff was heart behind him. Turning back, he saw the large fuzzy figure of Iris's loyal mutt, Foalen. His deep blue eyes staring at Death with a knowing that no normal dog would have.

"What is it?" The kinslayer mutt simply tipped his head innocently. Foalen seemed to be raising his eyebrows in some form of mockery. He knew what the mutt was saying. "Well, if you know so much, please by all means, lead me to the food."

The dog seemed to shrug in it's own way and pad past the rider and into the snow. Death followed close behind, glaring a hole in the back of the mutt's head as it lead him to a small shed around the back of the house.

Death opened it slowly, and was met with only a few large bags of different kinds of feed. They had labels on them, so without a word, Death picked up the large back labeled COW and walked back out to the large animal's pasture. Said cow was lazily standing in the dead center of the field, having dug out a hole in the snow so she could munch on the dead frozen grass. The rider didn't exactly know how much to put in the tough, so he simply dumped the entire bag. He turned back to the cow and waited for the fat beast to move, but she only starred at him.

"Whatever..." He grumbled, using the term he'd heard so much from Iris. He returned to the shed and brought back the chicken's, but as he stepped into the pen, he was assaulted by the small feathery creatures. They pecked relentlessly at his feet, somehow their small beaks penetrating his leather boots, and forcing the rider to jump away from them. The stupid birds apparently hated them, and Death managed to kick them all away - resulting in a most annoying screeching sound - and simply dropped the bag of food.

That was it, he was DONE with these freakish animals. Ha, and he thought his brothers were annoying?!

With one last sigh, Death and Foalen went back inside. The mutt casually walked into the kitchen, most likely going to get something to eat, while Death wasted no time flopping on the couch for - in his opinion - a well earned rest.

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Iris came back to awareness slowly, her senses taking their time in letting her know what and where exactly she was. She heard the familiar crackling of fire behind her, and she could smell the smoke. After some time she felt the blankets covering her and the hard wooden floor beneath her. And finally, after gathering her strength, her blurry eyesight told her she was in her living room. Her thoughts were jumbled, and her pounding headache did nothing to help with that.

The occasional shiver drove Iris to search for something warmer than the blankets she was under, and instincts told her that sitting in the fire wasn't exactly the best idea.

So, instead, with one of the more thicker blankets still draped around her, Iris stood as best she could and looked around the room. It was dark outside, the only light that assisted her being the fire (which didn't help much anyway). With an absent minded shrug, Iris took a few step forwards, rewarding her with her shins thrusted into something unbelievingly hard. The result? Iris fell face forward, onto something soft, and her face being shoved into something that was fairly warm.

She had no idea what it was, but at this point didn't care. With a content sigh, noting that whatever she was on smelled like snow and the forest, she fell asleep once again.

Yeah, again, sorry fanfiction decided to be a DICK and not actually post this thing. I have another chapter waiting to be uploaded, so there's a treat for you all :)

Question of the day: I dont really have a good question to ask, so, how have you been lately? :D

Reviews are love! :)

Love you all, bye!