A loud shot rang through the supermarket.

After the shot was fired, a young man of about 20 years old stood with eyes wide open as he realized what he had done. His throat worked tirelessly as he tried to produce words, and his hands twitched restlessly next to his hips as he tried to move. He didn't know what to do. He could only listlessly regard the scene in front of him as a black vignette trying to simultaneously eat away his vision and his consciousness.

This was his second victim.

"Tino, Peter, thank goodness!" Arthur's quivering voice cut through the white noise filtering into Alfred's mind. Hearing his voice finally caused Alfred to react to the situation.

The situation he had caused

Alfred got down on his knees next to the young man he had just shot, and quickly took the baby out of his arms. He tried to hand the small child to Arthur, but he declined, saying that he needed to help Tino first. He regarded Arthur carefully at this, but decided that it wasn't the time or the place to start an argument. Instead of battling with Arthur, Alfred called Matthew from where he stood trembling behind the weapon carousel, and handed him the swaddled baby without question. As always, Matthew was more than eager to help. He rocked the baby gently back and forth, humming quietly as he walked the baby away from the bloody scene.

They were lucky that the baby wasn't harmed.

When Alfred was satisfied that everything was settled, he looked at the bullet wound on the young man. Looking into the deep red gash, Alfred felt a heady need to topple over and vomit, but he held it back in favour of ripping a piece of his shirt apart to create a makeshift tourniquet.

"It's a damn good thing you're a bad shot," Francis said from behind them, voice betraying him as it trembled through his cocky tone

Alfred and Arthur both shot him a bitter look, but otherwise didn't respond to his taunting. There was no point in beginning a fight in their already weakened state.

"Why did you walk in here all alone," Arthur asked frantically, looking down at the small boy, eyebrows knitting together. "You had a baby with you, why would you take such a stupid risk?" When he didn't answer, Arthur got close enough to feel his hot breath ghosting over his chilled skin, "answer me!"
When Tino didn't answer him, Arthur was about to grab him by the collar so he could shake him around a little, but opted against it when he noticed his fragile state. The boy was, in fact, trying to answer him. He just couldn't. At such a close range, Arthur could just barely hear short little wheezes escaping his mouth. Arthur remembered this noise all too well. He backed up from Tino as calmly as possible, regarding his shallowly rising and falling chest, "oh no."

"Don't say that," Alfred said as he fastened the tourniquet tighter in an attempt to slow the bleeding. "Please don't tell me there's something else wrong," Alfred asked, looking over the young boy carefully and coming to his own conclusions. "He's not bleeding that bad," Alfred said frantically, looking at the dripping bullet wound and then back at the boy's jerkily rising and falling chest. Alfred looked up at Arthur, eyes wild with panic, "why is he not breathing!?"

Arthur was about to tell Alfred to relax, but he didn't have time to when a noise averted his attention away from his ash blonde friend and toward the source of the sound. The sound in question was made by a dark figure that stood only inches away from them when he – or it – knocked a can off of shelf. From where everyone was sitting, the figure was only half visible in the shadow of the aisles. He was a tall, brutish looking creature with white blonde hair and striking blue eyes. And he stood there, so still and silent that they thought he was one of the infected.

He wasn't, however.

They all almost jumped out of their skin when he walked toward them, revealing himself from the inky shadows. Alfred himself stood up – readying himself for an attack – only to stop instantly when he realized the man was not, in fact, infected. His gait was too direct and his eyes too clear. Alfred chose not to sit down, however, asking for the man's name and his business with them.

The man didn't answer the overzealous boy, sighing nervously as he sat down beside Tino's fallen body. And, before anyone could react, rested one of his hands over Tino's furrowed brows. Arthur himself was about to stab the man out of fear, until he finally started speaking to the wounded man on the floor.

"Are you OK, Tino?" He questioned the young man with the golden blonde locks.

Tino only nodded in response to the larger man's question, letting out a sharp yowl when Alfred sat down and pulled the tourniquet around his leg tighter than necessary. The taller man seemed to react negatively, as he grabbed Alfred's arm in a threatening grip.

"Relax," Arthur said in an attempt to calm the intimidating blonde man down. "He's just trying to help." Arthur patted the man's shoulder reassuringly, "I know Tino, so you don't have to worry about him."

The man seemed about to say something as he opened his mouth, but all that escaped him was a short stutter. When nothing came out he just closed his mouth and looked back at Tino, a deep crease forming on his forehead as he observed his now sallow skin. Tino already had a sheen of sweat on him despite the bitter cold of the supermarket, and his breath was starting to come in increasingly shorter bursts.

"He's asthmatic," the man said, voice only loud enough for the people hovering over Tino's body to hear.

Alfred looked down at the small and fragile man on the ground, trying his best to keep the fear out of his eyes. He had just shot an asthmatic man, and it was clear that he was about to go into an asthma attack because of it. He finally realized that that was why his breathing was so erratic even after fastening the tourniquet. "Please tell me that you or he has a puffer somewhere," Alfred whispered, pawing at Tino's pockets in search of a pump before the brutish blonde man could even answer.

"No," he answered simply. He began whispering something to Tino in an attempt to calm him down, but was only met with Tino's breathless attempt at speech. One of Tino's hands climbed upward and grabbed a hold of his shoulder, holding tight in a silent plea for help.

"What, are you kidding me?" Alfred's hands unconsciously tightened around the fabric in his hands, causing the tourniquet to tighten painfully around Tino's leg. "You're running around with an asthmatic and a baby, and you don't even have a puffer for him?" Alfred clenched his fists even tighter, and only realized what he was doing when Tino cried out breathlessly, hands reaching out for his in an attempt to stop him.

"God damn it, Alfred," Arthur cried, ripping his hands away from the tourniquet. "You're going to make him a bloody amputee if you keep that up." Arthur slapped his hands away when they reached back out for the tourniquet, causing Alfred to fall onto his backside from the force.

Alfred shook his head and watched from where he was sitting as Arthur fastened the tourniquet properly, cautiously watching the tall blonde man with the heavy accent despite Tino silently deeming him trustworthy. Alfred himself trusted Tino because Arthur knew him, but he didn't trust the bigger man. Even though he seemed gentle enough, when Tino seemed to be in danger, he reacted very quickly, and with great force. That meant the tall blonde man was extremely strong, and that would be a problem if his rage happened to get out of hand. Alfred massaged his arm where the tall man had grabbed him, pulling his sleeve back to see that it was already bruising.

The man hulking over Tino really was a brute.

Alfred scoffed when the other man's icy eyes met his threateningly, and stood up, brushing his pants off as he did so. Instead of lingering any longer than he had to, he joined Matthew and Francis where they both fussed over the small baby. Peter Kirkland, the baby that they had seen many times when he was brought over to visit Arthur. The baby was fine, so their biggest worry was put to rest. Now the only thing they had to worry about was food, and of course properly treating Tino. Alfred slapped a hand to his face in annoyance; it seemed that one thing happened after another.

"Hey, Pete," Alfred said, cutting the worry out of his voice so as not to disturb the child. He mussed the baby's hair with his good hand, the one not covered in blood. "Haven't seen you in a while."

The baby didn't greet him with his regular gurgle, however, as he was too busy reaching his little arms out toward his older brother.

Arthur himself was still sitting beside Tino, saying something inaudible from where they were standing as he checked the deep gash in his leg, the tall blonde man only nodded every time Arthur said something. Alfred couldn't quite explain it, but seeing Arthur only inches away from the hulking blonde man made him nervous. He knew Arthur could fend for his own, he had personally seen Arthur defending himself, but something in him made him feel like he needed to protect the cheeky blonde from any impending dangers.

"Arthur," the baby cried out, chubby hands straining toward his older brother.

The babies words caused Alfred's worry to fade, and caused the others to smile and chuckle. Peter had learned to say a few words in the short few months that they hadn't seen him. It was no surprise really, with such a rude and impudent older brother, one needed to learn to speak in order to protect themselves. Alfred chuckled to himself softly as he looked at Peter's flushed face.

Arthur himself seemed to have noticed this as well, as he finally turned away from Tino to look at his little brother with a shocked expression; the haze of terror in his eyes finally fading. It was as if he was only noticing that his little brother was safe.

"Arthur," the baby bubbled out when he realized he had finally gotten his brother's attention by speaking. "Arthur, Arthur, Arthur!" His feet kicked out this time as he tried to wrestle himself out of Matthew's arms.

They were all so enchanted by the baby that they hadn't even realized Arthur had begun crying. Only when his sobs echoed through the super market did they finally look up to see Arthur with his head bowed forward and his tears hitting the super market floor.

"Arthur," Alfred whispered, eyebrows creased. Seeing his friend like that made him want, more than anything, to walk over and comfort him. To tell him that everything would be alright.

Matthew, in response to Arthur's tears, put the small baby down onto the floor. Peter wobbled on his knees at first, falling over onto his butt as he tried desperately to crawl, and for a moment they all thought he wouldn't be able to walk. But, to their surprise, on the second try he started crawling on his elbows and knees. With his determination, he got all the way to his crying brother in less than a minute. One of his small hands shot up immediately, and he grabbed the lapels of his brother's shirt. He leveraged himself up and looked up to his brother's face, expecting a kiss.

He didn't get a kiss.

It took a moment for the baby to react, but when he saw his brother crying, he responded in the same fashion. At first it was small sniffles, then little keens of distress, and then eventually full blown sobs.

"Oh no," Francis said, walking over to the baby. "Please don't be loud, little one, your big brother's alright." He picked the baby up and tried to cradle him out of his fit, but it didn't work. In fact, pulling him away from Arthur only made him sob harder than he was before.

Arthur, however, didn't seem to notice from where he was positioned on the floor. He only continued to cry, more quiet than before but still crying nonetheless. He definitely wasn't helping their case.

Alfred walked over to Arthur cautiously, and dropped down next to him on the cold linoleum floor. His hand hovered over his friends back for a moment, not knowing whether he should try to comfort his friend, or just cry with him. He could feel the exhaustion and fear radiating off of Arthur's skin, so he opted to try to make him feel better. Alfred let his hand drop around Arthur's shoulders and patted his back with his free hand. "Your brother's good, man," Alfred said, only a hair's breadth away from his friend's ear. "He's fine, Tino's fine, we're all going to be fine."

Arthur wiped at his eyes with the cuff of his shirt and sucked back the tears that threatened to come spilling back out. Alfred continued to sit next to Arthur, trying to comfort him as the others tried to calm the colicky baby with pointless words and gentle coos, to no avail. Without Arthur, no one could calm the baby down, and Arthur was clearly not in the state to be calming down his brother. If anything, Arthur would only make the baby cry more with his tear thick voice.

Of course they wouldn't have assumed that the hulking blonde man with the thick accent would be able to calm it down. So when he stood up and walked toward them, naturally their reaction was to get angry and defensive. The man seemed to understand this, and held his hands up to show that he meant no harm. "I would not hurt Peter." They all watched cautiously as the man got closer, and to their surprise, with each cautious step the baby's cries became lower and lower. The man reached out for the baby when he was at arm's length, and Matthew's first instinct was to hold the baby away from him despite the child reacting positively to his presence.

"-S…S- it's…OK…" Tino tried to gasp out through his oncoming attack. Despite his words being jumbled and breathless, Matthew got the idea that Tino was saying the man in front of him was alright.

Matthew nodded his head at the smaller, incredibly harmless looking man on the floor. If he said it was alright, then it was probably alright. Matthew gave the larger man in front of him one strong, threatening glare that said 'if you try anything I'll kill you' before handing the small baby over to him.

The baby instantly stopped crying.

It was so shocking that Arthur even turned around, finally snapped out of his self-depreciating trance when his brother's sobs stopped. The baby was still fussy, and clearly not happy, but he relaxed enough so that he wasn't bursting into tears or whining any longer. He occasionally kicked his feet or hiccuped, but that was only from the hunger. The man in front of them, a complete stranger to all of them except Tino, had stopped the baby they had known for their whole lives from crying.

Arthur cocked his head to the side, finally getting to his feet with Alfred's help. He walked over to his younger brother dazedly, but kept his eyes fixed on the hulking blonde man holding his little brother instead. To their surprise, though, he didn't seem afraid of the man holding his little brother, or bothered by him. In fact, he looked like he trusted him. "I know you," Arthur said, pointing a finger up at the taller man. "I've seen you a couple of times with my father."

The man seemed to think about this for a while, and when it finally struck him his eyes lit up. "Kirkland," the man said slowly. "I should have recognized the name."

Arthur laughed, "yeah," he seemed to be relaxing a little. "The gentle giant," Arthur said, "that's what my father said to me."

Berwald himself let out a little chuckle, "my name is Berwald." After saying this Berwald leaned down and readied himself to hand the baby over to Arthur.

Alfred watched the scene carefully.

Arthur shook his head when the man tried to hand him his baby brother, holding his hands up in front of his chest protectively. "No, no, that's OK," Arthur said. "He seems to be taking quite well to you, and I'd like to check on Tino…"

Alfred's forehead creased in confusion, "that's OK, Arthur," Alfred said from where he stood beside Tino. "He's fine right now."

Tino gave a thumb up to indicate that it was true, his impending asthma attack was fading.

Arthur looked like a cornered animal; everyone's eyes were on him. "Really, not right now," he lied. "I'm still a little wobbly from earlier, it's probably best if someone else holds him right now."

The others nodded in agreement. They didn't seem to notice Arthur's unwillingness to hold his brother like Alfred noticed. He made it a point to remember to ask him about it after everything was sorted out. He needed to know why Arthur was so hung up on not holding his little brother, after all, at some point he may need to hold him.

There was no time for weird hang ups.

"Alright," Berwald said, holding the baby back up to his chest carefully as he watched the English boy take a seat on the floor next to Tino, who was now sitting upright.

Tino looked at Arthur with a large smile plastered on his face despite his obvious pain. "Well, even if it meant getting shot, I'm glad I found you."

Arthur looked at him with a sad expression on his face before smiling brightly as laughter bubbled in his chest. "I can't believe you can't sit there like that and smile, after all that rubbish." The young Englishman shook his head in disbelief at his fried, "you always were an airhead, Tino."

"Hey," Tino cried playfully.

After pawing through the storage closet with all the ammo, the group of survivors had no problem finding duffel bags for their weapons. And, assuming that they had a large trek in front of them, they grabbed as many weapons and as many boxes of ammo as they could all carry. It wasn't much, but it was definitely enough to keep them safe until they could find a place to stock up again. If Tino was on his feet the next time they stocked up, they would probably be able to carry even more.

"Baby food," Tino said as soon as they had completely packed up. "That's what we came here for in the first place."

Arthur nodded his head as he began walking toward the back, where he remembered the baby food stacked high on the walls. He hadn't had to make many runs for the baby because he wasn't around much due to his busy university life. But, when Peter would come over for visits, Arthur usually had to make a run out to the super market beforehand. Arthur felt a painful twist in his gut at the memory of those days, he felt as if they would never return.

"How will we do this, though?" Tino asked, reaching his arm up for a can of powdered milk. He tossed the can back and forth between his left and right hand, regarding the can as if it were something mysterious. "It's powdered, and we don't have any heat, a bottle, or water for that matter…" Tino looked up from the can toward Arthur, regarding Arthur as if he had all the answers.

"I don't know," Arthur said truthfully, turning his gaze away from Tino's to examine the various brands of powdered baby formula. "Maybe we could give him real milk," Arthur scratched the back of his head. "I don't think he can't take solids yet, though." Arthur wanted to curse at his own lack of knowledge. This was his baby brother and he didn't even know how to feed him properly.

"You need to wean him off of the formula," Fracis said in a matter-of-face tone. "He's old enough for real milk for certain, and solids won't kill him." Francis grabbed a can of powdered milk off of the shelf despite saying this, and tossed it to Arthur without warning. "He might get constipated, or get a bad stomach ache, but he'll grow accustomed to it."

"I'd like to save my brother the pain, thank you," Arthur said irritably.

"Well, yes," Francis said, rolling his eyes at the young Englishman, "but would you rather have him starve? We don't exactly have the luxuries to be choosing what kind of food and what kind of milk he likes. We need to work with what we have, and I just told you your best options."

"But, soft food…"

"We can't keep relying on soft foods, Arthur," Francis said. "If this continues, he's going to need to learn how to adapt and eat like us," Francis sighed. "As harsh as that sounds, it's our best bet."

Arthur wanted to argue with the man, ask him how he would know, but he knew it wouldn't do him any good. He knew that the irritating Frenchman was right in his thinking; they couldn't continue to rely on Gerber products and the likes to keep the baby nourished. If things kept getting bad, they wouldn't be able to carelessly go out in search of baby food. "You're right," Arthur finally said, angry that he had to admit it to his nuisance of a friend.

"Aren't I always?" Francis quipped, laughing as he walked away from the group toward the refrigerator. "Keep the powdered stuff though; you never know when that might come in handy." Francis opened one of the glass doors, letting loose an abundance of cold air. "Plus, real milk only lasts for so long. Especially in the heat."

Arthur shivered and hugged his arms to his chest at the onslaught of cold air, cold air that seemed to be getting worse and worse by the second. "Does anyone find it's getting really cold?"

"I just opened the refrigerator," Francis said as he let the glass door swing back into place when he had decided on a few cartons of milk. "Not to mention we are next to the meat locker."

"Y-Yeah," Arthur said, still confused as the chill refused to disappear, "I guess you're right."

Francis hugged the milk to his chest as he trudged toward the group, laughing when Peter reached up and grabbed for one of the cartons in his arms.

"Help," the baby said, smiling brightly up at Francis from Matthew's arms.

"You're such a sweet little boy," Francis said as he ruffled the small boy's hair. "You're so much nicer than your mean older brother."

The baby huffed out a laugh.

Francis stopped, when the baby laughed, he finally realized something was wrong. The air was much colder, even though they had walked away from the cold of the refrigerator. It was so cold that when the baby laughed, his breath billowed out around him like a fluffy cloud. It was colder than it was before, much colder.

Something came crashing down from inside the meat locker, causing them to all look in the direction of the plastic sheathed doorway. After the crash, various squelching sounds filled the air. It sounded something like meat being slapped onto a wet cutting board, but what would normally be an appetizing sound, was a sound that struck fear into them.

A loud, choking sound cut through the air, and simultaneously brought their mind toward insanity.

Arthur turned around slowly, eyes wide as he regarded his companions, "run."

The whispered word had them all charging down the aisle like wild animals, gasping and panting and cursing the store for being so large. As they weaved through the long aisles they all felt their hearts drop at the sound of other feet, probably dozens of other feet, joining theirs as they slapped against the pavement in retreat.

"Arthur, hurry," Alfred said, grabbing the slighter man by the wrist and dragging him behind him. "Don't slow down."

When they finally saw the sweet rays of light cutting in through the glassed entrance doors, they all breathed a sigh of relief. Their breaths were still bated, however, as they realized they could only run for so far in such a big group. If anything, they would only draw more attention to themselves. They also had a small child, and a wounded man with them. They wouldn't be able to get far.

"A car," Alfred said, as if sensing the thoughts running through Arthur's mind. "I can hijack a car."

"What?" Arthur asked, squinting his eyes against the sun as they approached the wide glass doors.

"My training's finally going to use," Alfred breathlessly chuckled, "what do you know?"

Alfred gripped Arthur's wrists tighter as he dragged him up to the front, in front of everyone else. "We need to do this quick," Alfred said, they were only a few feet away from the heavy glass doors. "I need some of you to hold these doors closed so those things can't get out."

"Are you fucking crazy," Francis asked with his mouth down-turned as he took in a deep gasping breath of air. "What would be the purpose of that?"

"I'm going to wire a car," Alfred said as he pushed the glass doors open. Alfred grabbed Peter out of Matthew's arms before he could even protest. "Arthur, grab Tino, and Berwald," he regarded the tall brutish man carefully. "Prove yourself to me man," he laughed. "Help those two weaklings hold those doors shut!"

Berwald silently put Tino on the ground next to the Englishman, watching carefully as he hobbled to Arthur's side. He watched their retreating backs for a moment before he walked toward the glass doors, getting prepared to help the two other boys brace it. "Careful," Berwald said simply, regarding the two smaller men beside him.

They nodded, faces pallid from fear.

Alfred, on the other hand, was dealing with his own fears. He didn't know how long it would take him to wire a car, because he had only ever done it with a large hummer. He saw none of those in sight. The car he had chosen was a gasoline purple mini-van, something just barely big enough to hold the entire group.

Alfred reached into his duffel bag quickly and pulled a gun out of the bag with his free hand.

"Wait," Arthur said, hobbling up to him with Tino's arm slung around his shoulders.

Before Arthur could say any more Alfred turned the gun around and smashed the window in with the butt of the gun. The glass caved and Alfred reached in easily, snapping the lock up on the drivers side and jumping in. He wasted no time as he leaned across and snapped the lock up on the passenger side door, beckoning for the Englishman to get in on the other side with him.

Arthur was silently surprised at his friend's strength. He had been able to smash the glass with one arm, while cradling a baby in the other. He watched Alfred work with a strange sense of pride in him after he had piled himself and Tino into the passenger side. Arthur's bangs were stuck to his head with sweat, he looked a mess, but Arthur supposed he looked no better.

"Hurry up, guys!" Francis desperately called from where he stood in front of the glass doors. When Arthur squinted through his light lashes, he could see the people piling up on the other side of the door. Their strength wouldn't be able to hold them for very long.

"I'm not trying to panic you, Al, but you really need to hurry it up!" Arthur said to the ash blonde man who was currently leaned under the dashboard of the car.

"I am," Alfred said. "Trust me, I'm going as fast as I can." Alfred could feel the stress coming from both Arthur and Tino, while the baby on his lap was completely oblivious to their dire situation. He felt perspiration travel down the side of his face despite the somewhat frigid afternoon. There was so much pressure weighing on him that he felt like he would pass out.

The van wasn't starting, but Alfred was foreseen this problem. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get it right on the first try, that was why he asked the men to stand in front of the doors, after all. He looked up briefly to see them struggling with the doors, even the heavy and powerful Berwald was struggling to keep the doors secured.

He cursed as he untangled the wires, finding it difficult to make the colours and print out in the dark of the dashboard. He brought two more out and tangled the copper together, silently praying for the sound of the engine roaring to life.

When it did, he almost cheered out loud.

He heard Arthur sigh in relief from next to him, and he felt Tino clap him on the shoulder gratefully. "Good job, Alfred."

Arthur smiled back at the young blonde man, "it's my duty, man, I do owe you one after that bullet."

Alfred looked up as he felt the car's weight shift, only to see Arthur leaning out of the window. "Get away from the doors, he's got it running," Alfred cried out into the cool afternoon air. In response to this, Alfred revved up the engine and drove toward them.

"Fucking run," Alfred said, hardly able to believe that they had been able to hold back so many people. If not for Berwald, Alfred was sure that they wouldn't have made it halfway down the street. He wouldn't admit it to the man, however.

The three men all looked at each other and silently nodded, Francis began counting out loud. "Three," the door jostled heavily behind them. "Two," the glass creaked. "One," he cried with a sense of finality.

All three of them bounded from their position and into the open van door, just as the doors swung open with heavy force behind them. All three of them somehow managed to squeeze themselves in through the sliding door of the van, and close it before one of the creatures could even think about touching it.

Alfred drove away, and they all let out a collective sigh of relief.

It was almost nightfall and they were still on the road, driving past police station after police station before giving up completely. It was very clear that whatever was going on had affected everyone, not just their quaint little neighbourhood.

"Everyone alright back there," Alfred asked, looking over his shoulder at the other passengers.

"We're fine," Berwald said. Everyone else hummed in agreement, completely played out from the day's events.

The cabin of the car grew painfully quiet as the minutes ticked by. Arthur had fallen asleep with his head pressed against the window, Tino was resting his head against Berwald's shoulder, Matthew was quietly playing with the baby, and Francis was snoring away with his chin pressed into his chest.

The sun had completely descended in the sky, and Alfred felt his eyes growing weary. Because of this, he slowed the pace of the car down, not wanting to hit any unexpected turns or bumps in the road. He also didn't want to jostle his sleeping passengers.

They were closing in on intersection when Alfred made his second terrible decision of the day. Matthew had simply dropped his duffle onto the ground, and it made a slight thumping noise. Alfred turned his head to see what had caused the sound, thinking that taking his already weary eyes off of the seemingly bare road would be fine for a short moment.

He was wrong.

When he turned back, headlights were bearing down on him. There was no way for either car to stop or take a quick turn.

Alfred didn't even have time to tell his friends to brace themselves before the cars slammed into each other head-on.

A/N: The next chapter I have planned is something different, but I think you guys will appreciate it. Why? Because Russia and China are going to be making their first appearance. Don't get confused, though, because they won't be showing up with the group. Russia and China's first few chapters are going to be set in the past, a few months before everything starts going crazy.

These two guys are going to be playing key roles in this story, and they're also going to help explain everything that happened.

Thanks for reading! : )