Matthew had experienced fear multiple times in his life, each moment a little more intense than the last. People had jumped out at him from behind closed doors, people had grabbed his ankles while he tried to climb into bed, and in one instance he had almost been mugged by a nameless man while walking home from the grocery story. However, all of these instances of fear paled in comparison to the fear he felt when he saw a horde of the infected approaching them – running at them – from over Francis' tensed shoulders.

Matthew had been in bad situations before, just like any normal person, but he'd never been placed in such a high stakes one. Matthew was stuck in between two oblivious men, one of which that would no doubt die in the mall at the hands of the infected. Francis was still too busy cursing and damning Gilbert's injury, while Gilbert himself was incapacitated because of the roaring agony in his head. If Matthew didn't act fast, there was a huge chance that they would all be taken out in one fell swoop.

Matthew took two steps back, opened his mouth, and screamed – the only thing he knew that had the power to warn Francis and Gilbert about what was about to happen.

In succession Francis looked over his shoulder, eyes wide and wild, and started running in Matthew and Gilbert's direction. Gilbert managed to raise his head enough to see what was happening – and with Francis and Matthew's help – got up from the floor. The pain was so severe in Gilbert's head that he was barely reacting to their situation; just like he had before, he was going into a somewhat lethargic state.

Due to their circumstance none of them had the chance to look over the map of the third floor properly, and because of the overwhelming fear they were all feeling, they didn't even think about where they were running. They ran aimlessly, passing through dark corridors, limping over broken glass, and looking over their shoulders every few seconds. It seemed that no matter where they went, the infected were on them. They weren't giving them up.

"Damn it," Francis cursed under his breath after they came to a jilted stop in front of a set of metallic green doors.

"What?" Matthew asked, out of breath. Matthew was confused at Francis' sudden stop, the infected were hot on their trail and would find them in a matter of seconds by scent alone. They needed to keep going or they would lose all of the progress they had made, and considering it was getting darker, they would need to make as much headway as possible.

"They're not going to stop," Francis said through tightly clenched teeth.

"Of course they're not," Matthew shouted, "they haven't stopped since this outbreak first happened. What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that even if we get through these doors, they'll know were in there. They'll kill all of us. We can barricade the doors, sure, but eventually they'll break through it. Remember, Lovino and Antonio saw them break a pane of bulletproof glass in a matter of minutes?"

"Then let's keep running," Matthew suggested, peeking over his shoulder to see if the infected were finally closing in on them. Lucky for them, they were still quite a few paces behind; but they were coming, there was no doubt about that.

"We can't, Matt," Francis shouted, "that's the problem, we can't keep doing this! Eventually we'll have to stop, or we'll come across another group; we can't all escape this unscathed. We can't."

Matthew's eyebrows quirked, he didn't understand what his friend was getting at. It sounded to Matthew like Francis was suggesting they just give up. "What do you suggest we do then, Francis?"

"You and Gilbert go into the food court, and I'll stay out here."

Matthew couldn't quite explain the feeling, but the best way he could describe it was that it felt as if his heart had stopped pounding completely. The only thing he could feel was his blood listlessly making its way through his veins. He looked up at his friend incredulously, trying desperately to find the familiar glint in his eyes that told Matthew he was just joking; just pulling his leg.

He looked and looked, but he couldn't find it.

Matthew shook his head, swallowing hard as he tried to get his voice working, "no, no, no, no." Matthew backed up – ready to rip into his friend – but was stopped when Gilbert finally pitched into the conversation, he woke up just in time to see what kind of situation they were stuck in.

"That's idiotic," Gilbert said with a jolt, holding his hand tight to the weeping wound on the side of his head. "You're one of the healthiest here, and you're suggesting giving up your life? Don't be so noble."

"We have to do something to ward them off," Francis said.

"I understand tha-"

"No one has to do anything," Matthew shouted, looking over his shoulder after he did so. "Look, we can all go into the food court and if something happens, well…" Matthew fidgeted on the spot, unconsciously grabbing the hem of his shirt sleeve. Matthew didn't know what they could do; he just didn't want to lose someone to a death so brutal. He didn't want to sacrifice anything.

Gilbert gave Matthew a pitying look – the best one he could muster considering his blood-marred face – then continued. "I understand that we need to do this, but what I don't understand is why you're suggesting it. Let me do it." Gilbert laughed, the undamaged side of his face lighting up as he did so, "I'm almost dead anyway."

Francis regarded Gilbert with an inconceivable expression before he grabbed the rifle of his shoulder and brought it to chest level, pointed directly at Gilbert. For one horrible moment, Matthew thought that Francis was going to finish the job – use Gilbert as bait.

However, before Matthew could even protest, the doors to the food court were swung open and he and Gilbert were pushed through the doors. Both of them landed heavily on their backsides, and the twin duffel bags they were carrying rolled away from them in messy heaps.

Francis smiled one last time at Matthew before closing the door and leaving he and Gilbert completely alone.

Gilbert stood up – by himself – and walked to the door clumsily; it was clear that his head was starting to feel better, but the side effects of the pain were taking a heavy toll on him. Gilbert threw his weight into the door - to which it groaned in protest – but still did not open. He pounded on it, threw his weight into it some more, but it still would not open for him.

Matthew finally knew what Francis had done.

Francis hadn't meant to shoot Matthew or Gilbert with the gun, he meant to use it to keep the door to the food court locked, so Matthew and Gilbert couldn't get out, and so the infected couldn't get in.

Matthew's breathing didn't slow down, even from where he sat on the floor unmoving. He was waiting for the sound of the approaching infected, waiting for the sound of his best friend screaming and crying out in pain. He hadn't even gotten a chance to properly say goodbye to his long-time best friend, the only thing he garnered was a smile from Francis. That was it, that was the last time he would ever see his friend again.

"Dumb fucking f-" Gilbert sputtered off into a tangent as he pounded on the door repeatedly. His efforts were fruitless, and he knew this, but it didn't stop him from taking his apparent anger out on the set of doors that were now sealing their fates.

Gilbert got quiet.

There it was, the sound of the infected approaching.

Gilbert turned around, grabbed Matthew by the shoulders, and pushed him toward the back of the food court. There was a sky light on the roof of the building, but the light of day was weaning severely, it was still hard to see around the food court properly. Matthew was beginning to understand what Gilbert felt like with his left eye. He bumped into things, overturned chairs, and fell onto his knees more than once as they made their way away from the closed doors.

They came to a stop at a Mediterranean Food establishment, where Gilbert manhandled him behind the food counter.

"What are you doing?" Matthew whispered, trying to wriggle out of the stronger man's tight grip.

"Get down," Gilbert said, ignoring Matthew's questions.

Matthew didn't listen right away, demanding to be answered.

"If you don't want to die, you'll sit!" Gilbert shouted, echoing through the once bustling food court. They were lucky that Francis was outside to distract them, or else they may have changed course and attacked the food court.

Matthew did as he was told and hunkered down beside Gilbert, where things got completely silent. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the infected running close behind Francis outside the food court walls, and the sound of Francis' feet clapping against the ground as he ran away from them. Judging by how close they sounded to him, his efforts were fruitless.

Matthew closed his eyes and gripped the front of his jeans, silently praying that Francis would get away. That somehow, Francis would come across another group and he would be saved. They would meet up, go outside, and leave for another safe haven. Francis would be fine, and so would he and Gilbert. They would find another place just like the hotel, and eventually they would find out that the rest of the world wasn't facing the same dilemma as the United States. Matthew would be re-united with his family and everyone would live happily ever a-

A gut-wrenching scream ripped through the air, simultaneously delivering a brutal punch to Matthew's already damaged heart. His fantasies shattered into tiny intricate pieces in a matter of seconds.

There was no hope for them.

The scream in question was filled with indescribable emotions, and all of them were bad. The scream spoke of fear, sadness, and unbearable terror. It continued for a long time, maybe a half an hour or an hour, before ebbing off into unconscious shouts and cries for help. Matthew couldn't judge the time, the only thing he knew was that it had gone from late-afternoon to nightfall by the time Francis stopped screaming for help.

After a few long, and agonizing hours, Francis was finally dead.

Matthew sobbed; he couldn't hear himself, but he could feel his body quivering from the unbelievable grief – the feeling of loss. He tried to be quiet, but he couldn't, the sounds escaped his throat as easily as the tears made tracks down his face.

He was happy that darkness had finally fallen, because even though he was grieving, he didn't want Gilbert to see his face. Not when he was so broken up and emotionally destroyed.

Two minutes later Matthew felt strong arms wrap around his shoulders, encompassing him and pulling him into a strong, warm chest. He didn't protest, he just let himself be held by the older man. After a shock so severe, he was more than happy for the comfort.

Some moments later Matthew's erratic sobbing began settling down, and the sound of the infected outside grew quieter. However, Matthew's growing sadness didn't settle, it was only his tears that stopped flowing. He remained quiet, revelling in the quiet comfort that Gilbert was offering him.

"That might not have been Francis," Matthew said, hanging on his own words despite how desperate they sounded. Even though every part of him knew it was Francis out there begging to be saved, he hung on his own hopeless words.

Gilbert didn't answer him.

For a moment Matthew thought that the man had fallen asleep, but he quickly realized he hadn't when he felt Gilbert's hands brushing through his sweat matted hair.

"Don't cry," Gilbert said quietly, "it's going to be OK."

Matthew moved his left hand up to his eyes, fingertips brushing through the salty tears that were still running down his face. He thought he had stopped, but it was apparent that his tears had a mind of their own. Matthew pulled his hands away from his face and began sobbing again; he couldn't stop himself. Someone telling him not to cry, and telling him that things were going to be OK didn't fix anything, even if they were said with good intentions they couldn't do anything to fix anyone's situation. Nothing could fix Matthew's grief, but he was thankful that Gilbert was at least trying to make it better for him.

"It's not OK, actually," Matthew said, burying the side of his face into Gilbert's heaving chest. It was apparent that he wasn't taking too well to the situation either. He wasn't crying, but he was distressed all the same.

"I know," Gilbert said, stifled. "It doesn't hurt to try to make things better, no?"

Matthew chuckled throatily through his tears, trying to save face in front of the German. As pathetic as it was, Matthew didn't want to look weak in front of Gilbert, even in their horrible situation.

"We're surrounded, aren't we?" Matthew asked, already knowing the answer to the question he was posing to the burly German.

"We are," Gilbert said, "it sounds like they've left, but they've really just become silent, they've eate-" Gilbert grew quiet, words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"You're right," Matthew said with a shrug, "don't try to apologize for saying something I already know about. They've eaten Francis, and they're going to be full for a little while before getting hungry again. As they get hungrier, they're senses will become stronger and eventually they'll find us. That's exactly what's going to happen."

Gilbert was quiet for a moment, then Matthew felt Gilbert's chest trembling as he laughed. Matthew looked up at the man, confused.

"Apologizing is your job, right?" Gilbert asked. Matthew swore that Gilbert was smiling, even though he couldn't see it through the darkness.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Matthew said.

The room grew quiet for a long time, and the infected outside could be heard more clearly because of the striking silence. Every once in a while they would hear the sound of feet dragging against the ground, or the sound of one of them grunting or moaning something or another. They were stuffed, so they weren't actively seeking out anything to eat. The problem was that they probably would be searching for something to eat soon. Soon, with a lack of food, their noses would become hypersensitive to smells, and even with the blockade of the food court's scents, they would smell Matthew and Gilbert. Gilbert had seen so first-hand when Lovino and Antonio had been stuck in the hospital.

They would come to get them eventually, Matthew and Gilbert both knew this. They had weapons on the other side of the food court, and they could go and get them, but they couldn't put up much of a fight against a horde. There was also the fact that Matthew couldn't quite aim properly, which would result in a huge waste in bullets and an advantage for the infected. They also needed to be back at the meeting spot by the end of the second day, or they would be left behind to deal with the infected.

"Is the radio working yet?" Matthew asked from where he was still glued to Gilbert's side. He asked quietly just in case the man had already fallen asleep.

They had tried to get the radio working when they first walked up, but they settled with the idea that the radio was either out of power, or just malfunctioning for the moment.

It couldn't have picked a worse time to conk out on them.

"Nope," Gilbert said quietly, "I would have tried using it a long time ago if it had been working properly."

Matthew sighed, cursing the darkness and the quiet of the room. The only thing he could hear was the sound of infected roaming outside; the infected that would eventually spell their demise. During the silence, almost ten minutes after discussing the radios, Matthew had an idea.

"Tell me a story," Matthew suggested, assuming that Gilbert didn't like the silence as much as he did.

"What kind of story?" Gilbert asked.

"Any kind of story," Matthew said, "something about your family, your pets, tell me how you're feeling. I don't care, as long as I can't hear those things roaming around outside anymore."

Gilbert was quiet for a moment as he thought of a story, any kind of story, to help Matthew cope. If it meant telling him his deepest, darkest secrets, than he was ok with that. They were probably going to die in a matter of days, anyway. "OK, I have a story to tell you, it's about a sad part of my life."

"I did say any story, but maybe a spirit lifting one would be better…"

"It's sad to begin with, but it gets better, I promise," Gilbert said, patting Matthew's head and stroking his hair. These normally intimate touches weren't phasing either of them, which was probably due to their situation. Normal people wouldn't be touching like that, but they weren't normal anymore. Any kind of comfort or touch was welcome in their new world.

"OK, go on then," Matthew said, unintentionally snuggling up to Gilbert. However, the man didn't react, in fact, he almost encouraged it by drawing his arms further back so Matthew was pressed even closer to him.

"I was born in a small German village in Brandenburg to a loving mother and father," Gilbert said, "pretty normal – good life by my standards." Gilbert's hand didn't cease its brushing motion, "for a long time, I was really happy."

Matthew looked up, "you told this story to the group, didn't you?"

Gilbert sighed, "Ludwig and I sort of rewrote our pasts to make it more suitable for the group. You know, if we had told everyone what our past was truly like, none of you would have let us lead." Gilbert shrugged his shoulders, "you can get mad at us now, but it won't do you very much good considering where we ar right now."

"I'm not mad," Matthew said, "I understand."

Gilbert huffed, his breath stirring the hairs on top of Matthew's head and causing a shiver to work its way down his spine. "You're very agreeable, Matthew, I'm lucky I ended up paired with you."

"Hmm, I'm lucky too," Matthew whispered, "now tell me the rest of your story. I want to hear it now."

"Like I said, I was a very happy child in a very happy home. My mother and father cherished me, and I had everything I wanted. It was great; right up until Ludwig was born." Gilbert sighed, "don't get me wrong though, I loved my brother, and I still love him very much now, but it could easily be said that he – and my love – was the reason for the collapse of our family. You can love something too much, Mattie, I learned that the hard way."

A knock was heard on the front entrance to the food court, but it turned out to just be one of the infected stumbling around aimlessly.

"Ludwig wasn't planned, at all. I still remember how upset my father got when my mother told him she was pregnant again. 'We can't take care of another child, Gilbert is getting bigger and he's going to need even more support, you need to get rid of it,' that was what my father told her. And of course, even the mention of abortion 20-odd years ago was considered a sin. My mother cried, and she yelled. My father and her fought and fought, until one day he struck her." Gilbert physically shivered, "my father had never touched my mother like that before, and he hadn't even grabbed her when he'd been angry. And here I was, sitting at the kitchen table, watching as my father beat my 8 months pregnant mother over the back with a chair leg. I was just old enough so that I would remember it forever."

Matthew wanted to say something to Gilbert, maybe comfort him, but he knew that it would be pointless. The story Gilbert was telling him had happened a long time ago, comforting him about it would be virtually pointless, and would probably only prove to make him feel worse about it. Matthew stayed quiet, and waited for Gilbert to continue. He had asked to hear the story, after all.

"Mother went into labour from the sheer blunt force of the chair leg against her back; father drove her to the hospital and left me home all alone. I was only five years old, scared, left to think that my mother was alone and dying, or that father was hurting her again. Then father came home, without mother, and I was terrified. I was sure that she was dead. Even as he began hitting me, kicking me and yelling at me, telling me that I was 'worthless' and that everything was my fault, I could only think about my mother and my unborn brother or sister. That's a child for you."

Gilbert moved to stretch, and then settled back into his position against the wall. He didn't seem disturbed or particularly upset about his story; he spoke about it as if it were something completely normal. And, in a way, his story was truly normal in his own stunted view. He didn't know what it was like to have a warm and normal home before his father started beating on he and his mother like a savage beast. That's all he knew, that was how he was raised.

"I went to sleep that night, covered in my own blood, and to add insult to injury I had even soiled myself. However, when I woke up, everything the night before had been forgotten because my mother was sitting on the corner of my bed, with Ludwig in her arms." Gilbert laughed, "he was so cute, so unlike that big hulking muscle-monster he is now. I was so happy; I was instantly attached to my little brother, just like that. I knew that I would do anything to keep him out of harm's way, and that meant keeping him away from my father."

Matthew felt Gilbert's hand cease on top of his head. However, just as Matthew thought he had fallen asleep, Gilbert's hand began moving again, almost unconsciously.

"Sorry," Gilbert said, "I'm trying to pretty up the ending as much as possible."

"Don't pretty it up," Matthew said seriously, "I want to know what happened."

"Fine then. Twelve years later, I was outside playing with my little brother, I was seventeen years old but I didn't have many friends because of my duties at home. My father would train me relentlessly, something in him snapped and instead of wanting me to become the perfect doctor; he wanted me to become the perfect soldier. 'Becoming a doctor is too expensive, and you're not even smart enough, so instead of using your brain you're going to use your strength, the only good thing you have going for you,' that's what my father would say to me. At only seventeen years old I was already gaining muscle tone, can you believe that? A seventeen year old shouldn't have muscle tone on such a level, that's just wrong. But, that's what was happening to me, it was already getting to the point where I would barely go to school anymore because my father wanted to train me." Gilbert sighed, "I was actually only a few years off from being enrolled in the military."

"What about Ludwig?" Matthew asked.

"Father wouldn't get on him too much," Gilbert said. "Occasionally he would force Ludwig to join us, but not too much. Which, all things considered, even a little bit of our training was hard on Ludwig; not even an enlisted soldier should undergo that kind of harsh training. Being beaten over the back with a broom handle while you do push-ups isn't exactly my idea of humane training methods."

"How did you end up here then, Gilbert? Did you enlist, or did you somehow get away from your father?"

"Well, on that perfectly normal day where Ludwig and I were playing outside, the one that I was telling you about? My mother shot my father, right in the head. He dropped like a fly, just like that; my father was cold and dead. It turned out my mother couldn't take it anymore and she snapped." Gilbert shook his head, "I'm happy that she did it, but another side of me is sad that she did it. This other side was partly because I had a sick attachment to my father – still do – and partly because she was thrown into jail because of it. Ludwig and I were tossed out on our asses, just like that. I had just turned eighteen and the both of us were forced to go it alone. Adoption wasn't a thing that happened in our villages, and orphanages were stuffed. Not to mention I was already too old to be put into an orphanage, and I wouldn't have been able to let Ludwig go anywhere without me. My mother wouldn't have wanted that, anyway."

Gilbert grew quiet again as he tried to work out what he was going to say next. Matthew, growing tired, was determined to stay up long enough to hear the rest of Gilbert's story. It was sad, but at the same time, it was a dose of reality. He needed that now more than ever.

"My mother was on the stand, looking down at her two sons with the most heartbroken look on her face I could ever imagine. I couldn't even face her; I just kept looking down at my hands. I wanted to cry so much, but I couldn't, because Ludwig was sitting next to me. The judge explained the orphanage situation, and then the foster home situation and my mom looked like she would fall apart. 'If I would have known I never would have done it,' that's what she said to the judge. She hadn't directly confessed before, but she had then. I stood up then, and promised my mother that I could take care of Ludwig, that I could support him. With that, my mother was ruled guilty and sentenced to life in prison. We stayed at the house for a little while, my father's bank account and my mother's back account together was enough to keep us going for a few months, but the problem was, it would eventually run out and I had no work experience or proper education under my belt. Sure, I was strong and well built, but what the hell does that get you, am I right? I couldn't exactly enlist because that would leave Ludwig all alone, and you don't make much as a soldier. The most you get out of that is a few missing limbs and years of psychological pain. "

"What did you do?" Matthew asked.

"Ludwig needed to go to school, the house needed to be paid, and I wanted to keep a fund open to give Ludwig the chance to go to school. There's only one type of job in this world where you can earn hundreds of dollars in one night with no education or training." Gilbert grew quiet for a moment.

Matthew was quiet, he knew exactly what Gilbert was going to say but part of him couldn't believe it. Gilbert didn't seem to have that kind of character. But, Matthew had learned over the years not to judge a book by its cover. Under normal circumstances Matthew might have been disturbed, but he understood why Gilbert had turned to what he had. What he wanted to know was what kind of 'happy ending' Gilbert was talking about. He couldn't see anything good about Gilbert's story, but of course, Gilbert probably saw happy in a different light than him.

"We moved to Berlin after I found a good escort company," Gilbert laughed. "When I got there, I finally realized that all the training my father had put me through went to good use, just not in the way he wanted or expected. Women want a ripped man, that's that. The only requirement of me was that I wear coloured contacts, blue ones preferably, that hid my eyes. Women could get past my pale skin, but my eyes were another story. I was one of the top choices among male escorts in Berlin, but it wasn't a point of pride for me, it was just something I wanted so I could support Ludwig. The more people the better. I had even accepted to spend the night with some men, that was how desperate I was to give Ludwig a good life." Gilbert stopped the petting motion, "I know that probably disturbs you, but it's what I felt I needed to do - it's what I needed to do."

"I understand," Matthew said, then grew quiet, "but I don't understand the 'happy' part."

Gilbert laughed, "I guess that probably doesn't look so good to you, but my idea of happy was seeing Ludwig happy. He went to one of the best schools in Berlin, was top of his class, and despite his quiet demeanour had very many friends. He was living the life, and in a way, so was I. Some of my escapades were a little undignified, but when I made my money, I could pretty much do whatever I wanted. The best part about it all, though, was that Ludwig was so damn proud of me. He didn't know what I was really doing, he just thought I was going to night school, a police officer, I had told him."

"That's really sad, Gilbert…" Matthew didn't know what to say. He'd never really met someone with a situation quite as bad as Gilbert's.

"Nah, it's fine," Gilbert said with a laugh, "I'm sure Ludwig had an idea of what I was truly doing as he got older. No one goes to school and then somehow comes back with a wad of cash. That's not how school works, anyone would start catching on eventually."

"I guess," Matthew said.

"Then, online, I met Elizaveta," Matthew felt Gilbert smile, "she was beautiful, and so funny, it was almost shocking to meet a girl as foul mouthed as me. I think I fell in love with her instantly, and see, that's the problem with me, Mattie. I love something, and I end up loving it too strongly and hurting everyone involved in the end, including myself. Ludwig was already into his schooling, an incredibly smart man, and on his break I told him what I was actually doing to make money. However, at that point I had stopped almost completely, I would only go with the occasional suitor every now and then - some of my more trusted regulars. He wasn't happy, but I told him that I did it for him. That kind of made it worse."

Gilbert let out an awkward laugh, "now that I think about it, I realize he was madder at himself than at me, and that's not what I wanted. I made him feel like it was his fault that I got into such a shady lifestyle. That's probably the only reason why he agreed to come down to America with me to meet Elizaveta. He felt guilty, and he realized that if I was vying for someone, I would probably stop working with the escort service. So, he came down with me, saying that he had always wanted to visit the North-American continent. We started out with Canada, actually, British Columbia to be exact. There were some things Ludwig wanted to see, and he very much enjoyed his time there. Then, after that, we came here to meet Elizaveta. We stayed at a hotel, shopped around a little – checked out the German community, then Ludwig stayed at the bar we had went to in the afternoon and I went to meet Elizaveta, then the apocalypse happened."

Matthew was quiet, "I don't really think that story would have swayed anyone's judgement, but I understand why you didn't want to give the real story." Matthew felt his eyelids getting heavy.

"Hmm," Gilbert said, "you're surprisingly understanding, Mattie."

Matthew felt the corners of his mouth lift at the nickname Gilbert had coined, not bothering to protest to it. "I try," he answered, slowly lolling into sleep.

Gilbert himself was awake for another hour, listening to the sound of the wind whistling outside and the sound of the infected bustling around the food court. Matthew and he would be safe for another day, but even that was hard to determine. They were trapped, and if they wanted to get out, they needed to take a chance.

When they woke up the next morning, they would need to gather all of the food they could, then run.

A/N: Oh my God, it's 2 in the morning and I have school tomorrow! I just really wanted to get this chapter out for you guys and I was sure that I had the time, but editing ended up taking WAY longer than I expected.

Welp, I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter - I hope you guys don't riot about Francis (I didn't want to kill him off, trust me, but it had to be done! I told you voting PruCan would change some of the developments, and this was one of the things that changed.)

Thanks guys! I love you all!