Tuesday, 12:10am (12:10pm local time)

Mimi blinked uncertainly. The sun was high overhead, and she winced, shading her eyes. Everything was so bright! The colours were rich enough that her eyes watered. It took her a good minute or so before she could take a proper look at her surroundings, or anything much beyond the smudge of green at her feet which was her partner.

She was stood in an enclosed garden surrounded by walls, and the ground had been churned up in several places. Two copper pots lay on the ground.

The garden looked a lot different in the over-bright sunlight, especially now that it was devoid of large, terrifying creatures which had looked a lot like wolves save for the porcupine-esque spines on their backs. She rubbed her eyes. She hadn't gone back to the same place as before?

"Mimi!" Palmon cried. "You've got your bag with you!"

She looked down and gasped. The onbuhimo which Mrs Yagami had given her was strapped over her chest, with the strap of her bag tucked beneath it. As she leant forward it tugged at her back, and she winced. Still, if she had that, then it meant…

"My digivice!" she cried. "Oh, and my phone, too! Palmon, I've got everything with me! We can tell the others!" She took a deep breath. "Right. Time to sort out all this light."

She fished in her bag, and pulled out her sunglasses, settling them over her eyes with a sigh of relief before pulling out her phone.

"Are you going to be okay, Palmon? I can lend you my spare pair if you like, but I think they might be a little awkward to wear."

Palmon shook her head. "It's okay. The light doesn't really bother me too much. It's a bit brighter than the digital world, but not too bad."

"Well, that's something, I suppose," Mimi said doubtfully. "But let me know if you need them. You are meant to be resting, after all."

She knelt down, wrapping her arms around her partner. The bulky fabric of the onbuhimo between them made it more than a little awkward. Pulling away, she opened up the chat programme Koushiro had installed, and tapped out a quick message.

::I have all my things. Safe for now.::

The garden was quiet and still. If it hadn't been for the deep gouges in the dirt, and the copper pans abandoned where she and Palmon had dropped them, Mimi might almost have believed it wasn't the same one. But those things were there, which meant the creatures were as well. What was she supposed to do? The garden was surrounded by walls on all sides, and the only obvious way out was through the house again.

"We need to get out of this garden," she muttered. "But I really don't want to go back in there."

"Mimi, you do have your digivice," Palmon said. "I could evolve and—"

"—No!" Mimi cried. "Palmon, you can't! Look, I'll just…we went in one of those houses in the daytime here before, and it was…it was…"

Palmon laid a hand on Mimi's arm. "I'm fine, Mimi. It won't take long. I'll just evolve for long enough to break through a few of these walls and fences so we can get away through a different house, or find another way out."

Mimi looked from her partner to the house. She didn't want Palmon getting hurt, but would they really be any better off going through the house again?

"Well, if you're sure you'll be okay," she said doubtfully. "But don't tire yourself out too much, alright?"

Palmon nodded. "Ready?"

"Well of course I—oh!" Mimi cried, turning away a fraction too late as the bright light from her partner's evolution almost blinded her, even through her sunglasses. She blinked away spots as the glow subsided to reveal Togemon stood in the garden—taking up more than half of the space, in fact. It was something of a relief when the first wall crumbled and they were able to spread out a little.

Three garden walls later, Mimi could tell that her partner was tiring. It was too much, coming right after a serious injury and hardly any rest. When Togemon started to glow after pummelling the fourth wall into rubble, Mimi shielded her eyes and ran straight over. Palmon lay groaning on the top of the debris.

"Sorry…Mimi…" she mumbled.

"Oh don't you dare apologise Palmon," Mimi whispered, blinking back tears. "It's quite alright. I shouldn't have asked you to do it, and I can carry you from here, okay?"

She tried not to wince as she clutched her partner tight. The fabric of her school blouse pulled against the scrapes on her back, rubbing them enough that she felt like she was sat next to a fire. Her whole back felt tight and uncomfortably warm. Still. It was sunny—far too sunny, even for her liking. Maybe it was just the heat?

There was no way for her to be comfortable with Palmon tucked into the onbuhimo, but it was certainly better than the alternative. Palmon had been tired and recovering to begin with, and that was before evolving to knock down walls. Really, it was just lucky that she hadn't devolved into Tanemon.

Although at least Tanemon wouldn't be as heavy, she thought, thoroughly ashamed at herself even as the notion popped into her head. She absolutely should not be thinking that sort of thing. They were stranded in an unknown and definitely hostile city, without anyone else to help them and with only a small bag of emergency supplies. Palmon devolving into Tanemon would be a disaster.

She looked around the garden they had made it to. There was only one way out, and that was through the house it belonged to—which was definitely a far more unpleasant prospect in the wake of her previous visit to this world. Still, surely she'd be safe enough peering in through the window? The house she'd first visited had been safe enough, and that had looked intact, with none of the furniture scattered or upended. She just needed to check for signs of those…things before going in.

The kitchen window was filthy, but the vague shapes on the far side of the accumulated dust and dirt looked undisturbed. The back door was closed, however, and rattling the handle served only to make a lot of noise.

Now what? she thought.

Togemon smashing down the garden walls hadn't roused anyone—or anything—so far, but that didn't necessarily mean that she could carry on making a din without consequence. At some point she was likely to run into more of those soldier people from before, and she needed to make sure they heard her message from Alwyn's 'Elder', Ithel. They certainly weren't going to give her time to talk if they found her while she attempting to break down a door.

But in order to find the soldiers, she needed to get back onto the streets. The run of gardens she'd wound up in simply backed onto more houses, all of which looked less tumbledown than the garden she'd stumbled into on her first visit. She had to get into the house.

"Well, I guess there's no helping it then," she said with a sigh. Palmon looked too exhausted to even move, which meant it was up to her to get herself out of trouble. Or, out of one kind of trouble, at least. Most likely she was about to wind up in a whole different sort before too much longer.

There were a few wooden canes in the garden, stuck into the sun-baked dirt with the remains of long-dead plants wound about them. She pulled one loose, and thumped it against the ground a few times to make sure it hadn't gone brittle. Reassured that she wasn't going to end up holding a stump, she marched up to the door. The top half was glass, filthy but still intact.

Not for much longer, she thought grimly, holding her makeshift weapon at arm's length and looking away.

She swung the stick hard, wincing as it wrenched her wrist upon impact. The wood clattered against the glass. Nothing. Frowning, she took the stick in both hands and stood a little closer before trying again. Again, the stick hit and rebounded, skittering off without doing any real damage. Now what?

After thwacking the window with a downward swipe a few more times, Mimi shifted her grip up a bit so that she could strike with the short end of the stick, end on. A stabbing motion was far more successful. The glass cracked on the first attempt, and in only three blows she'd managed to knock a large enough hole for her to lean through and pull back what turned out to be a deadbolt keeping the door closed. She gripped her stick with satisfaction as the door swung open, trying to ignore the prickle of guilt.

It's not breaking-and-entering if the house is abandoned anyway. Besides, I can't just sit around feeling sorry for myself. I've got to find those soldier people, because they're probably the ones who've got Yamato and Sora, and I'm the only one who can save them and explain what's going on.

There was something about having a purpose which helped to quell the fear which had previously threatened to overwhelm her. She wasn't just stumbling around, lost and afraid any more. She had a job to do, and she wasn't about to let the others down by sitting and blubbing any more. Everyone else had bucked up and got on with it, after all, so why should she be any different?

"Ithel," she muttered to herself as she tip-toed into the kitchen and checked for any other signs of disturbance. "Ithel, Ithel, Ithel. I'm an envoy from the Forest City, and I'm too important to shoot. No panicking this time. I just have to get them to listen, and then everything will be okay."

She glanced down at Palmon, who had fallen asleep in the onbuhimo. Everything had better be okay. She wasn't really sure that the pair of them would pull through another fight in one piece.

Tuesday, 12:56am (12:56pm local time)

Takeru awoke from strange dreams about a desolate city and shadowy rooms, to more aching and general discomfort than he would have liked—even considering the fact he was lying in a hospital bed. It wasn't so bad while he simply lay there, halfway conscious, but the moment he moved his head it swam, and bright sparks danced across his vision.

"Takeru!" Patamon cried, in an entirely too-cheerful tone of voice. "You're awake again!"

He groaned. "I don't really know that I am, to be honest. I feel awful."

Patamon hovered in front of him. "The nurse said you gotta eat something, Takeru. They won't let you get up until you do that."

He frowned, and tried to blink away the spots in his vision. The lack of decent meals which had featured in his life over the last few days probably did have something to do with his lightheadedness. He'd only had the disgusting concoction that had been handed out in the prison cell since arriving in the city, and that had been…wait. How long had he been asleep for?

"Patamon?" he croaked, coughing. "What…what time is it?"

Patamon shrugged then flew off to one side, returning with a small, enamelled cup half full of water. "The healers brought round some lunch a little while ago, but you were asleep still so they took your tray to keep it warm. It's all very different food to what you normally have in the human world Takeru."

He helped Takeru drink water which had an odd tang to it, then returned the cup. Whatever the taste was, after a minute or so Takeru felt his head clear a little. He shuffled on the bed to sit up, and clutched at his temples as the world settled back into place around him. Well, at least he could move a little more easily.

"I'll go fetch the healer!" Patamon cried, and was gone before Takeru could ask his partner to stay.

The light behind him hummed slightly, and without Patamon in the room he could hear muffled conversations in unseen rooms, but aside from that it was silent. Where had everyone gone?

Probably to eat, if Patamon was right about it being lunchtime, he thought. I hope they're all okay.

The bandages on his arms and face itched, but moving didn't seem to be as difficult as it had been before he'd slept. Takeru wrinkled his nose, trying not to poke at the fabric despite a growing itch. After all, maybe some of the blisters hadn't popped. There was no sense doing himself more damage now.

"Ah, you're upright, Chosen of Hope," said a cheerful voice. He turned to see a man with short antlers sticking out of his head walk into the room. "How are you feeling this afternoon?"

"Uh…well, I think I'm okay? I don't want to stay here any longer if I don't have to."

The man nodded, and Takeru found it hard to tear his gaze from the antlers to meet his eyes. They were light brown, and crinkled at the edges with a smile. "Well, let's take a look at those arms of yours and see how we get on, shall we? That should be a good indication as to how the rest of you is faring."

It was more than a relief to get a look at his arms and see that they were actually starting to heal. The one or two blisters which hadn't ruptured had formed pink, shiny patches of skin, and his various other injuries were tender only to direct touches, rather than aching constantly. The doctor left them uncovered, then moved on to Takeru's head, removing the layers of bandage which rubbed his face.

"I will leave the shoulder wound, and the deeper cuts to your torso," the man said calmly. "We do not have the poultices and charms to spare to heal such injuries overnight at present. But I would say that, so long as you stick to loose-fitting clothes for a day or so, you should be safe enough to go without further dressings for the burns you sustained. Now, your feet were rather blistered, but these were pressure blisters, and the salve should have taken much of the soreness from them. I suspect they will be uncomfortable to stand upon for the next day or so, but walking will do you no lasting harm. Once you've shown that you can keep some food down, I see no reason not to release you from the ward."

"That's great," Takeru said, smiling weakly. "But…er…what am I going to wear?"

The man nodded towards a neat pile of green and brown material which Takeru hadn't even noticed on the table beside his bed. "Taken care of already," he said. "We'll call you back this evening to examine your other wounds, and I cannot overstate the importance of rest, but as I have said. After eating, I will summon a porter to escort you to the chambers which the Elders have allocated for your use."

He managed to stay put until the doctor left him in the ward, then leant over to grab the bundle of material and shook it out. His eagerness faded almost immediately.

"What's wrong, Takeru?"

"I think I might just stay here instead," he muttered, holding up a large, baggy shirt. "What even is this thing? It's almost long enough to be a dress."

Patamon tilted his head to one side. "Does that matter?"

Takeru thought about the fate of his own shirt—not one of his favourites, admittedly—after their march through the woods. It wasn't as though he'd been especially presentable even before it had been cut off of him, but even so, it was a far cry from dressing like someone who'd just stepped out of a fantasy RPG. He stared morosely down at the material. They'd managed for months on end in the digital world with just the clothes on their backs and their partners to help them. In a way it had been like an unending dream. No matter what they'd gone up against, they'd emerged more or less unscathed. This time, his clothes had barely lasted a few days. And he'd liked those jeans.

It was a stupid thing to worry about. He even felt embarrassed mentioning it to Patamon, who always accepted that there were things about being a human which digimon would eternally need explaining to them. But the fact was, there was something humiliating about having to be cut out of your clothes, and there was something deeply unsettling about the prospect of setting off into unknown dangers in just a baggy shirt and a pair of what he seriously hoped weren't leggings. Besides, being cut out of clothes in hospital was what happened when people were properly hurt. It certainly didn't bode well for their chances if they'd reached that point before they even knew what was going on. It was all too…too real. Everything, from the burns on his arms, to the knot in his gut if he thought about being up in the air, to—

"Takeru!" Patamon cried. "Are you okay?"

He flinched, belatedly noticing that he was trembling all over.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, biting back tears. "I just…I want to go home, Patamon. I want to go home and for everyone else to be there too. I…I don't want another adventure. I don't to be in a prophecy again. People always get hurt, or—"

Patamon landed on his lap, nudging the shirt out of the way and looking up at him with wide, placid eyes. "But I'm here to keep you safe, Takeru. And I'm not going anywhere. I won't let anything bad happen this time."

Takeru leant forward, ignoring the uncomfortable pull of bandages and the half-formed scab on his shoulder to hug his partner as tightly as he could manage.

"I'm really glad you're here, Patamon," he mumbled, only looking up when someone came into the ward with a tray of food.

Monday, 11:48pm

Iori should be asleep. He knew that. They had a lot to do the next day—the next many days, so far as anyone could guess. It wasn't helping anyone for him to stay up so late. Daisuke had managed to get to sleep already, and was snoring on his futon with V-mon curled up next to him. Armadimon was slumbering peacefully by his side; too big in his child form to fit on his pillow as he usually did.

Was that the problem? It had been a long time since he'd slept without the small, comforting warmth of Upamon on his pillow. They'd only ever stayed overnight in the digital world the once before, and although their partners probably could hold their child forms in the real world indefinitely these days the way Patamon and Tailmon did, it was easier for them to stay small and discrete. He certainly wouldn't be able to carry Armadimon to school the way he still did with Upamon now and then.

No, he thought eventually. That's not it. It was part of it, no doubts there, but the main problem was that he was not in his room. He was not in his apartment. He wasn't even in his own world, and he wasn't allowed to go back there any more until they'd fixed what was going wrong. They didn't even know what was going wrong, let alone how to fix it. How long would they be stuck there?

He was worried. Worried about Yamato and Sora for certain, and for the others on a sliding scale which ran from "extremely concerned" to merely "very concerned". He was even worried for Miyako and Daisuke—as well as himself—because having just the three of them to defend the entire digital world from an unknown threat didn't seem especially wise or fair. Every other time there had been at least five or six to pool their strengths together and look after one another.

Daisuke snored, and rolled over in his sleep. His arm draped over V-mon.

Iori frowned. And that was another thing to worry about. Daisuke had returned from the real world with a theory from Miyako which they could all have lived without. So far, the mysterious prophecy which had left them out hadn't explicitly said they weren't involved, either. There was still a chance they might get caught up as well—and if that happened, who would be there to defend the digital world?

Gennai hadn't seemed too concerned by this, which was reassuring in a way, but then again he didn't seem all that concerned about what was happening to the others either, and their situation really was quite dangerous. When Iori had asked, Gennai had simply responded that if there was a prophecy, then what would be had already been foretold. That the answers would emerge, and although they had to take it seriously and do their best, he had faith in them as Chosen Children. He was confident that they would win through in the end. That it would all turn out for the best.

This was all very well, Iori told himself, but an awful lot of bad things had happened to everyone before the end of their adventures last time. And not everyone had emerged on the other side, happy and smiling. The best for everyone on the whole didn't mean the best for every individual involved. The best in the end hadn't stopped Koushiro from breaking his arm already, or Takeru from being hospitalised in a strange world.

He checked the time on his D3 and frowned. It was almost midnight. That was the time when, if anything was going to happen, it would. Daisuke was asleep, and you had to be asleep to go to the other world. Out of the three of them, presumably Miyako was in the most danger as she was in the real world, but even here…wait. If creatures were appearing in the digital world from the other place, surely that meant it would be easier from here, not harder?

Iori frowned. What if they got dragged in from the digital world? Would it make the distortions worse?

He prodded Daisuke, suddenly worried. Perhaps they should be awake at midnight.

Daisuke, of course, merely grunted in his sleep and rolled over to face the other way. Iori hesitated, looking at his D3. Just a minute or two to go. Daisuke slept like a log. It would take far too long to wake him up at this point, and if he was touching him when something did happen—

Iori sat up, heart racing from nerves, and watched. He couldn't do anything else, and he hated that fact, but ultimately it just meant that he had to do this right. He had to make sure that if Daisuke disappeared, he could give an accurate account of it afterwards.

The seconds ticked by. Midnight approached and Iori held his breath.

Three, two, one.

Nothing.

Daisuke snored, and V-mon twitched slightly beside him. They looked about as peaceful as they were ever likely to. The seconds ticked by and there was no mysterious smoke or shadow.

He waited for a minute or two and then gradually relaxed, leaning back onto his futon and sliding down to lay with his back to Armardimon. It was okay. They weren't involved. They weren't getting dragged in. The weariness which had so far been absent crashed over him in a wave. Was this what had been wrong?

Iori yawned, and let his eyes flutter closed as his partner nuzzled against his side. Maybe it was, he thought sleepily. I guess I was just worrying over nothing though.

Armadimon fidgeted, and he opened his eyes to roll over, spotting a tall figure standing in the doorway. Gennai nodded once and smiled at him as he settled back down under the covers. Oh. Of course Gennai would check in on them both. He'd thought the same thing. Reassured, he closed his eyes once more and let his worries dissipate entirely. He fell asleep filled with renewed determination that tomorrow, they would do a good job. They could do this. Gennai trusted them, after all. He'd kept a watchful eye this whole time, even if they didn't always notice. He was there to support them along the way. And in return, they wouldn't let him down.

Tuesday, 12:17am (12:17pm local time)

The house had been completely abandoned; a fact for which Mimi was extremely grateful. It was cooler inside, too, and she gave herself a few minutes on a hastily swept stool in the dusty kitchen to allow her eyes to recover from the brightness. The room was relatively empty, but neat. Copper pans hung on hooks on one wall, and a vase on the windowsill sported several stalks which presumably had once been flowers.

Her phone had bleeped during Palmon's progression through the gardens, but she'd been hesitant to stop all the while they were out in the open. Now that they had somewhere to rest, she pulled it out to see a message from Mrs Takaishi:

::That's very good to hear, Mimi. Where are you now, and how are things progressing? Please keep us updated as much as you can.::

::Palmon was able to break down some garden walls, and I've found a house which is much safer to take a rest in. I'm going to go in search of some help in a minute though. I can't see any monsters anywhere, so I don't think I can get back.:: After a moment's thought she added: ::Please tell Mama and Papa I love them very much and I'm quite safe right now.::

In the wake of the tapping on her phone, the silence became steadily more oppressive. It closed in on her, driving her first into the hallway to peek into the rooms at the front of the house, and then out onto the street. The front door had been left closed, but unlocked. A relief and a mystery all in one.

What happened to all the people here? she found herself wondering, as she walked out onto the street. Who used to live here, and where did they go?

So far she had yet to see any sign of people other than the soldiers who had shot her. And while she was more than happy not to have found any signs of…bodies, or nasty, grisly things like bones, surely groups of armed men wouldn't still be patrolling without reason? Why were they still here when everyone else had apparently left years and years ago?

She had kept the stick which had broken down the door, and held it in one hand as though it were a sword. It wouldn't be much help, probably, but Mimi certainly felt a lot stronger carrying it than she had without anything at all. So far there had been no sign of any more monsters—did they only come out at night?—but there was no way she intended to take any more chances until Palmon had recovered a little. If she needed to walk around looking for more of those soldiers, hoping against hope that some of them would show up with enough warning that she could explain, then she might as well have some method of defending herself.

Finally she heard footsteps, and froze. This was it. It had to be them—who else would be wandering around an abandoned city, after all? Unless it's Yamato, she thought. But if Yamato was free, why hasn't he spoken to anyone? Although, what…what if he can't, just like Hikari couldn't?

But that didn't really make sense either. After all, she hadn't made it through a night in the city so far. You don't even know that it's the same place, really. It's just a guess.

It was the worst moment for the doubts to creep back in, of course, a thought which occurred to her moments later when a harsh voice called out for her to drop her weapon immediately.

"What—oh!" she cried, letting go of the stick. It fell to the ground with a clatter.

"Now raise your hands, slowly, and be warned: if you try any charms or enchantments, we will not hesitate to open fire, understood?"

"Oh, but, I'm not going to do anything like that," she said, raising her arms despite the pain as she tugged on bandaged wounds. She tried hard to swallow past the knot of fear which rose along with the guns which the soldiers were slowly pointing in her direction. They had emerged from an alleyway she'd hardly even notice while her thoughts were elsewhere. Stupid, she thought. This place is dangerous and now you've put yourself and Palmon in danger!

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You…you see, I'm a Chosen Child, and I'm also an…an envoy for the Forest City. I'm here with important information from Ithel and the other Elders, so you really do need to take me to visit the…the Graces, I think he said?"

There was a short silence. Well, they hadn't shot her. That had to be a good thing, didn't it? She cracked open one eye to see that most of the soldiers were simply staring at her, and cleared her throat, confidence growing.

"It's something called the time of merging you know, so I really do think it would be a good idea if we could go wherever it is you need to take me so that I can speak to them."

A woman, who Mimi assumed to be in charge thanks to the rather ornate symbol embroidered onto her shoulder, scowled and shook her head as though to clear her thoughts. "You have been caught trespassing in the city. Why…How can you prove your legitimacy as an envoy? I see no evidence that the Elders sent you."

Mimi swallowed nervously. "Well, I'm afraid you'll really just have to take my word for it, but I'm sure that if I can speak to someone we could get this sorted out."

One of the other soldiers leant in her direction and muttered something. Mimi dearly hoped it was something along the lines of 'let's just take her with us anyway because she's being very good and not running away or saying rude things about all the guns being pointed at her even though she's a fifteen-year-old girl'.

And the worst thing; the thing which made her heart really flutter, was the fact that with Palmon tucked into the onbuhimo on her front, she probably wouldn't be able to defend her partner if anything went wrong. Hands held achingly above her, she sniffed back a tear.

"You know I really do think you're being very cruel," she said. "I didn't ask to be here. I got dragged over from…from Earth—I suppose you might recognise that name, at the very least—and then I was attacked by these horrid monsters and my partner and I were injured, and everyone I've seen here has been absolutely horrible to me, and people have been pretty terrible to some of my friends too, but I've still got to go and save your whole world you know, and I don't mind doing it, really, but it would be nice if you didn't point guns at me while we're getting all this sorted out, because I really can't do anything to hurt any of you, even if I wanted to, which I don't."

The group stared at her, half of them with open mouths. One gun lowered immediately, its owner tilting their head over to the side with an incredulous expression on their face.

The soldier who had muttered before leant over to the leader again. This time there was silence enough that Mimi just caught the words: "…injuries…story checks out so far."

The leader of the soldiers took a deep breath. "Okay, so this is how it's going to work. We have standing orders to bring in all trespassers for questioning as it is. Ordinarily you'd be a prisoner, which means the usual hands tied, forced march deal. But this—" she waved in Mimi's general direction "—this has 'above my pay grade' written all over it. You agree to come with us willingly?"

Mimi nodded. "And you'll take me to see the Graces?"

The woman threw back her head and laughed. "Kid, you're going straight there, trust me. Okay. Lower your arms. We'll get you downstairs. Frankly, I think it's a good opportunity to get myself a drink."

A.N.: It's here! Finally, after months of pottering and diversions with other projects. I am incredibly sorry for the length of time it's taken me to get back to this story, and I really do hope it won't happen again, but as I have half a novel to write by April, and several other in-progress fics as well, I don't want to make any more promises about my update schedule for the foreseeable future. I can only promise that I absolutely intend to get to the end of this story, as I do with all my ongoing fanfiction projects, and I am eternally grateful for everyone's patience while I muddle through the more stressful half of the year!

Additionally, I wanted to stop in with a couple of notes about this chapter, particularly Takeru's section. Because I mean, do I think that stressing about clothes when you're in the middle of a life-or-death situation is petty? Yes, yes I do. However, do I think it's the sort of reaction someone would actually have? Also yes.

The thing is, Takeru is a child (he's actually only...twelve or thirteen so in this, after all - it's set in the first part of the school year in 2004, so he's not even as old as he is in Tri!), and also a human. And human responses to stress and anxiety are a complete cluster at times. And while, I'm not gonna lie, part of me was making a slight nod and poking fun at his fairly arbitrary and at times horrific fashion choices in the Tri movies, the fact is that I have been hospitalised before, and being without your own clothes in that sort of situation (having, say, beeen carted off in an ambulance while wearing pyjamas and slippers) is actually pretty scary. You feel very vulnerable and exposed. And I am no stranger to this, and I can honestly say it's no easier however many times it happens.

But there! Enough real-world angst. I made it and managed to update, and everything is looking a little more on the up, no? Please feel free to leave comments and (constructive please!) criticism, and if you fancy a chat or have questions about the Hope's Fire universe, or any of my other fics, please feel free to give me a shout over on my tumlr. My fanfiction account is (imaginatively): tottwritesfanfic