Snap.

"I've got it! He's a psychopath!"

"Whit, we said that like three hours ago."

Whitney had stopped pacing to make her declaration, and now shot a slight glare at Marlon, who was slumped against the brick wall. He turned his gaze instead to the girl huddled in the corner, face pressed against her knees. "You alright there?"

White didn't respond. She didn't dare speak a single word; no, not to the likes of them. She had been so stupid, so foolish, as to underestimate N for even a heartbeat.

She had woken in the dank dungeon, alone and sick to her stomach. Blinded by her rage at Black, she had forgotten that N simply could not be trusted.

Black. He was out there, somewhere. Shortly after she had woken up, Falkner, Marlon, and Whitney had been tossed into the cell as well, all unconscious. Apparently, N had decided that they were just as much trouble. If this was their punishment, what had he done to Black? No matter how livid White was with him, she still loved him. He infuriated her, but she couldn't imagine living on without him. So she tucked herself away, receding to the back of their prison, away from the others.

"I just don't understand," Whitney groaned, collapsing at the center of their cell. She glanced wistfully at the window—though it was really only a glorified slit hanging above them at ground level, brass bars keeping anything but grass from poking in—which taunted her by streaming in beams of light.

"Morty said something to me before he clubbed me over the head," Falkner responded. "He said, 'You must stay out of the way while we make the world a better place for all of you.'"

"He must have been like Surge and N," remarked Marlon despondently, "who truly believed all the bull we were told."

"I wanted to," Whitney mumbled sadly. "I wanted to believe we were safe. But in the end, we're still just scum, yeah? We still gotta do their dirty work, and we'll never amount to nothin'. I mean, what's gonna happen to the others?" She erupted in sobs, and Marlon scooted over to hold her.

Just then, the slanted cell door swung open just a crack, but before anyone could move to force it open further, an arm pelted four lumpy rolls of stale bread into the room and slammed the door shut. They all knew it was Morty out there, guarding them. The clicking lock and retreating footsteps echoed off the dark-grey-brick walls of their hidden prison. Falkner picked up the rolls and distributed them, even, surprisingly, handing one to White. Some part of her had expected the former street kids to act as savages, but they had given her a rightful share now she nibbled tentatively on the roll, hardly making a dent in its hard crust. I guess they're used to divvying up slight food, she speculated. It was strange seeing such avid thieves sharing, conversing quietly, comforting one another.

However, even that did not coax White from the corner. She kept thinking back to the plan, wondering over and over whether Black, Wally, and Belle were safe. A small, cruel voice inside her whispered that maybe someone would try to save her. But it was false hope. Who would notice her gone, much less know where to look? She didn't even know where this place was.

Overhead, through the bars, a dog passed by, sniffing rigorously. It was a basset hound, the sort of dog that makes you just crumble inside with its wet, droopy brown eyes and its floppy, flabby ears and muzzle. It did not look too old, but it seemed weary and emaciated, which made White's heart melt just a bit more. Poor animal. It had seen far worse days than she had, and she was the one trapped in the cell.

Whistling, she called attention to herself and shuffled over below the window, her share of the food along with her. Nobody else paid her any mind; simply busy wallowing in their own deep seas of pity, remorse, aggravation, et cetera.

White broke off half of her roll of stale bread and offered the more generous half to the snuffling beast above, who gobbled it eagerly and gratefully. After she finished her part of the roll, it did not seem to expect any more from her, and yet it still laid down, its nose between the bars of the window as if it wanted to keep her company. Two lonely creatures just looking for some momentary companionship.

White named him Musha, for his mushy face.

Dogs are strange, she realized. They sleep with their faces pressed into the ground. They look at humans with those sad eyes, hoping for a piece of kindness. And yet, they are stronger than us. They could survive on their own if need be, just as Musha probably has. But we humans have certain necessities that disable us. That overtake the thoughts that really matter. Humans think animals are so inferior, so unintelligent, when, perhaps, they are more intelligent; they can decipher what matters to what doesn't. We do not have such an ability, and so we run around, destroying each other, frantic, while they watch calmly and securely. We humans are supposed to be these great, advanced beings, and yet I am the one stuck in this cage and the basset hound is the one staring down at me with pitying eyes.

A voice snapped her from her thoughts. "Hey, what's your name again, girl?"

White turned. Whitney was watching her expectantly, having recovered from her fit, but White still stared blankly. She wasn't sure she would be able to say anything even if she wanted to, so shaken was she.

"I heard N talk of her before," Marlon observed. "He called her a 'little fighter'."

White sat up just a bit straighter. N had called her that to her face as well. Right after he drugged me.

Falkner rolled his eyes. "Black spoke of her too. Her name's White."

"White," Whitney repeated, testing out the name. "Huh. Well, don't worry, White-chan, for someone will find us." She glanced at Falkner and Marlon. "The great thing about family is that even if someone betrays you, there must be someone still loyal to you. Someone's going to look for us, and they'll rescue us from this hellhole."

White only wished she could be so sure.

Blue woke to a quiet, dark room. There was such silence, she wasn't sure where she was. She remembered the fire, and the chapel breaking all around her, until she was trapped. She'd gotten dizzy in the smoke, and she knew she would probably die. Now it seemed silly to her. At the royal wedding? Every possible resource would have been used to recover anyone inside.

But where was she now? She heard hardly any noise as she lifted herself up. Her eyes adjusting to the darkness, she finally figured out that it was Silver's parlour. Of course Silver would come to find her.

She wasn't awake for long before Lyra passed by, nearly jumping out of her skin in surprise when she saw Blue conscious. Lyra instantly scurried over to sit beside her and give her a tight, sisterly embrace. "We were so worried!" she mumbled quietly.

"What happened?" Blue asked. Though she remembered the fire, it was quite an obligatory question for someone who was just awakening. She did not realize that some hours later, another fire victim would rise to an equally dark and quiet room elsewhere in the city. "Where's Silver?"

"Oh, he's off with the kids in their chamber," Lyra rattled off quickly. "They didn't want to leave their oba, but he made them eventually. You've not been out for too long; in fact, we figured you wouldn't wake until tomorrow, and it's only been a few hours since nightfall!"

"How did Silver find me?"

Lyra's lips curled in an amused smile. "Well, he didn't. He went out to try to, but he couldn't get close to the wreck. And then some time passed by, and I was here with Iron, when all of the sudden His Majesty turned up at the door with you and Aries—"

"Wait," Blue stopped her, spluttering, "His Majesty?"

Lyra paused. "Oh, right, I supposed he's not crowned yet. But the bloody crown prince of Johto showed up with you in his arms like a right hero!" She pointed to the chair a little way's away. Blue had not noticed that Green sat there, asleep. That was why Lyra had been speaking in excited, hushed tones.

"He got me out?" Blue questioned, stunned. She didn't think Green would have done that. "But I was trapped in there…"

"Well, Aries told me that part of the story," Lyra went on. "She was looking for you, too, even though I told her not to leave the house. Disobedient girl…but she said she hadn't seen you anywhere around the church, and she recognised His Highness and told him. Apparently, he charged right back into the church!" Lyra clutched at her heart. "Oh, it's so romantic!"

Blue blinked, eyes wide. "Romantic?!" (Ha, Blue, how do you like it when people meddle with you?! /shot)

Lyra giggled like a young schoolgirl. "Aries and Iron have begun to call him 'oji'." She glanced over at him. "He is quite handsome."

Blue shook her head. "That's not how it is, Lyra. I'm his sister's lady-in-waiting. And anyways, he has a wife."

"Those royal marriages are never happy. Just look at the latest one! It's ended in a church on fire! Certainly a sign from the heavens that it simply was not meant to be."

"Or an act of terrorism."

Lyra rolled her eyes. "My point is that would he have gone back into that church for you if he did not care?"

Blue shook her head. "I'll not speak of this any longer."

"Fine," Lyra conceded, "but at least come see your brother and Aries and Iron."

Blue nodded and followed Lyra into the other room. Silver was struggling to convince his children that they needed to sleep, and it didn't help when their ashy auntie came into the room with a wide smile. "Oba!" they both squealed and leapt out of their beds. Silver shook his head, tired but overjoyed that his sister was alright. Blue was quickly yanked into a hug with her niece, nephew, and brother. With her help, Silver and Lyra finally managed to convince their rowdy children to go to sleep.

Outside, in the hall, Silver glanced at his wife. "They get all that energy from you, you know."

Lyra beamed and pecked him affectionately. She turned to Blue. "Are you alright on the couch for tonight? We all best turn in as well."

Blue nodded. "I'm fine." She bid them goodnight and returned to the parlour, sitting down on the couch and watching a clock tick away. She stayed a long while in the silence. Despite how weary she felt, she knew she would not be able to fall asleep with all the worries weighing her down.

Instead, she turned to Green. Even in his sleep, his brows seemed slightly furrowed. Blue knelt before him, brushing his hair from his eyes. He woke at her touch, but he wasn't startled. Much to Blue's hilarity, his eyes were glazed by sleep. She smiled softly at him. "You saved me."

"I'd hardly call it 'saving'," he replied. Blue liked the way his voice sounded; rough and groggy. It felt like the tone was a secret that only she knew now. "Someone would have discovered you eventually."

"But it was you."

"You're my sister's closest companion, and Aries was looking for you. I had to try to find you." He explained this like those were the only reasons, but Blue knew that behind his stoic front, there was a kind and caring man. However, ever since he was young and his parents all but abandoned him and Crystal to reside with their grandfather, he had closed himself off. He was afraid of letting himself feel, and so even if he did, he did not dare show it. Crystal had been too young to remember much about the time when her parents were around more. She was not nearly as serious and guarded as her brother. Blue had spent enough time with them to understand that beneath all of their walls, they were still the same sweet people.

Green shifted, waking up more. "I apologize for dirtying your brother's house."

"He will not mind. Or at least, Lyra will not mind and convince him not to work himself up over nothing." She paused. "I do not believe I'll be able to rest until I've found out who survived the church."

"Me either." Blue was surprised Green would agree, shaking himself from his sleep and rising. "I think that we should not outstay our welcome. I'm concerned for the other wedding guests." His voice did not betray any of that worry, though he did outstretch his hand, and Blue knew that this gesture was for her and her only. She allowed herself a small smile as she grasped his hand and stepped out of the house with him, into the smoky night.

Just as they had stepped from the porch onto the street, Blue leaned over and brushed her lips against Green's cheek. He stopped, frozen, adding vague confusion to his usual brooding expression. Blue giggled; the sight of Green caught off guard was completely worth the ash on her lips. After we learn of the guests' safety, we must wash all this away, she thought to herself. To Green she clarified, "That was a thank you." She was convincing herself too that that was all it was, Lyra's assumptions still fresh in her mind.

Green nodded quickly and led her on, back towards the church, his hand still tight on hers. "There's something I must tell you about Crystal before we return…"

Red had not rested a single moment. Upon his return to the castle, he darted about impatiently, waiting for news about the fire's survivors. He should have stayed at the scene, but he figured he wouldn't be allowed to return, and he would be more harm than help. At least in the castle, people knew he was safe.

But he didn't know if anyone else was safe. He asked repeatedly, but none of the workers bustling about knew where Yellow was. None even remembered seeing her that day. Most of them were burdened by his constant questions, as they were trying to accommodate the survivors, who had been moved to the palace to be helped. However, Red noticed a group of guards coming in from a back entryway, carrying a sack which appeared to contain a body. Red could feel himself frown; those doors led to the grounds, and certainly no remains from the fire would be brought to the castle.

"Who is that person?" Red asked, quickly catching up to the guards. "Who has just died?" Could it have been someone he knew?

One of the guards stopped. "This woman was hanged immediately upon her arrest for the treason she committed. In addition to her other crimes, we believe she had to do with the chapel's unfortunate condition."

"Who is she?"

Red felt his heart stop as the man formed the words. "Yellow Nympharum," the guard responded flatly—for how could he have known the significance of such a poor girl? "We nearly arrested the wrong woman, but she handed herself over. Perhaps the guilt got to her." The guard shrugged, for this was only a story to him. Just another criminal he had put in their place. To him, Yellow Nympharum was not important. He followed his fellow guards as they carried the body away.

Red was rooted in place. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, trying to make some sense of what the guard had said. Yellow couldn't be dead, and she couldn't be a criminal. For sure, she had told her best friend, Red, her crimes—stealing to survive, assisting a stowaway, Emerald, and taking him in, as well as harbouring Belle, who could have come from anywhere. But certainly those did not warrant death. And she never would have had anything to do with something so horrific as the church's downfall. She couldn't have. Yellow was…Yellow was…

She was sweet all of the time and brought sunshine with her wherever she found herself. Even though she doubted her own worth, she was incredible. She was Red's best friend, and even if nobody else cared who she was, she was the most important person in the world to him.

He stayed there, disbelieving, occasionally scanning the crowds with false hope that she might come bounding up to him completely unscathed, until Prince Green and Blue approached.

"Red!" Blue exclaimed instantly. "Thank goodness. The state of the kingdom would worsen by tenfold if you were killed." At his silent, forlorn, lost expression, she frowned. "What has happened?"

"Guards just passed," he said, hardly able to string together the words, "carrying the body of a woman who had just been hanged. They just killed Yellow."

Blue seemed unable to believe it as well. Her grimy face drained of colour. Green's eyebrows had furrowed. "That's horrible," Blue said, "but what did she do? All I can think of is the locket…there must be something we do not know about her." Red still had her locket inside his jacket pocket.

"She's not the small blonde maid, is she?" Green asked suddenly.

"That's her," Red replied, his voice dull and empty.

"I saw her. I've only just remembered, but she sprinted over to me as I was taking Blue back to her brother's house. She wanted me to tell Blue that she was going to Unova."

Blue turned on Green abruptly. "What? Why would she have gone to Unova? And why are you only telling me this now?!"

"She left because she had to," spoke a new voice. A young serving boy rushed over before he lost his nerve. Red recognised him as Joey, a lad who had only been at the castle for about a year to help out his family. One of his sleeves fell empty, handless. He had been following the progress of the not-Yellow wordlessly since she had admitted her crimes. "Maiden Yellow is not dead," he began quickly and watched as the Kanto prince all but melted in relief.

"Well, if you know so much, what happened?" Blue snapped, not in a mood to leave holes in the story open.

"I was suspicious," Joey admitted, "and so I told the guards what I knew of her. They were going to arrest her and question her as to why she had the amulet, and if she was plotting against Kanto. But then another woman came and claimed to be Yellow Nympharum. She listed a whole bunch of crimes that she committed, a whole lot of things I hadn't even heard about, and they carted her off. I couldn't stop the hanging, and it seemed that she wanted to die. If the real Yellow left, it was probably to hide. Better that than be found again and actually arrested this time."

"She's alive," Red breathed. He had only thought her to be dead for a matter of minutes, and he hadn't been able to stand it. He thanked every spirit in the sky for her safety, and he knew then what he must do. "I have to find her."

"What?" Blue shouted, chasing after him when he took off. His quarters weren't far. Green, Blue, and Joey followed him, looking on incredulously as he put together a rucksack. "She's long gone by now," Blue called, trying to get him to see reason.

"That was the idea," he countered. "And I'll go to Unova after her."

"What will your father say?" Green asked. "You've only just returned from the fire, and you're risking your life in Unova?"

"At least I've had the chance to clean up first. You two, however, still bear the mark of the fire. And to hell with my father—Yellow is the most important person to me." He slung the rucksack over his shoulder.

Blue scoffed. "And you say you don't fancy her."

Red allowed himself a moment to blush at that comment, before a soft mewling reminded him of someone he'd forgotten. He picked Muffin up off the floor and shoved him into the unwilling arms of Green. "And take care of my cat," he finished absent-mindedly, heading out into the corridors again. Joey observed the wild ordeal, Blue stomped on behind Red, and Green stared at the kitten in his hands as if it were the most perplexing being in all of the PaxSeas.

"You don't even know where to look!" Blue yelled, a final argument to try to make him stay. Without Red, who knew what horrors King Lance Corvus would befall upon his kingdom.

But Red was not moved. "I don't care. I will find her."

It took her a very, very long time to realize she was staring at a ceiling.

Everything was dark, and difficult to see. But she wasn't trying to see. She was floating, somewhere. She didn't know where, but she didn't care. It didn't matter where or who she was. She was just there. Her mind drifted. Sometimes it was peacefully closed. Other times it worked—albeit in a blurry manner—and she saw the darkness ebbing comfortingly around her.

But then her mind opened just a bit more, and that darkness was sort of bluish. Just a bit. It intrigued her. She watched what she could see above her, and strange things came into view. Chips and spots and cracks and beams. At first, she thought it was the darkness disappearing. Dragging her somewhere else.

And then the word came to her head. It was a ceiling.

Knowing that, she could no longer stay where she was. Wherever it was that she was. She had no clue of her location, but it was somewhere, buried in a warm darkness, underneath a ceiling.

She clawed her way to consciousness. Consciousness? Yes. That's what it was. That's what she had to get to. It would clear her head.

Once all the fogginess had mostly faded, she blinked a few times. She did not know this ceiling. She had no idea of where she was. Her hands found something soft and warm; a blanket was over her. A mattress was beneath her. She was lying down somewhere unfamiliar. How had she gotten there? What had happened? She didn't quite yet have the mind to remember. But as she searched through her brain, racking it for an answer, it came crashing upon her.

The wedding. The explosion. The fire. The window. The fall. Never feeling the end.

What had the end been? What had the end been like that she had not hit the ground? Because certainly upon impact she would have died. Did someone pull her back from the window? No, she had felt the fall for far too long, watched the window grow farther out of reach, as if in slow motion. Then all had faded to that syrupy darkness that she had dwelled groggily in. She hated how disoriented she became when it mattered most.

She sat up, pushing her stiff muscles to work. Then she surveyed her surroundings.

The room around her was dark, only the light from the moon outside the window and from a single candle to illuminate it. Beams stretched across the yawning ceiling, the one she had awoken to. The candle sat on a nightstand, and a wardrobe was opposite the bed where she lay. That was when she heard the intake of breath. Her gaze instantly snapped to her left, where she found that she was not alone in the room. Someone had been with her—guarding her? Watching over her?—and had fallen asleep in a chair, leaning on the edge of the bed.

Gold.

He looked scuffed up, more than his usual smudginess anyway. His hair was a mess as always, but one of his eyes was bruised. She reached out tentatively towards him, not wanting to cause him to stir. Gently, she brushed his black bangs out of his eyes.

Apparently, he was a light sleeper.

His hand reached out and caught hers by the wrist reflexively, as if he was paranoid she was going to attack him. His head shot up and his eyes blinked open. He stared for a few seconds before he seemed to grasp that she was awake. As soon as he did, though, he reached over and pulled her towards him in a tight embrace.

"Crystal…" he breathed. "You're awake…"

"Have I been unconscious for long?" she asked. Her voice sounded strange. Croaky, as if her vocal cords were violin strings and the bow playing them did not have nearly enough rosin on it.

"No, only some hours." He held her at arm's length, as if to make sure she was really there before him, and cupped her face with one hand. "You scared us, little bird."

Hearing him say his nickname for her made her heart go ka-dump. But that was irrelevant. Definitely irrelevant.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I would have died if I stayed in that church. I know I would have. Speaking of which…how didn't I die?"

He smiled proudly. "I saved you, my princess. And then I stole you away."

"No, really."

"You were falling," he started seriously. "I…hadn't exactly left yet for Johto. When I heard someone scream that the church was burning, I ran. I saw you as you stood in that window. Brave and grim. I leapt onto some crates—it was the only way I could get to you—and I…well, I caught you."

"But your eye…"

"Ah," he said mischievously, "that is a whole other story. After I had you—you'd fainted by then—some guard of some sort tried to tell me to hand you over. I wouldn't and he punched me, but I got away. And I brought you here." He seemed to realize she still didn't know where she was. "Oh! This is Yellow's house. Kinda simple, isn't it?" His expression darkened. "I don't know where she is. She was gone when I woke this morning and hasn't returned since. She knows what she's doing, though. I'm sure she'll be back soon." He turned back to her. "But you were the primary concern, really. You should have seen Tanzanite, flitting about like a little moth, fussing over you."

"Tanzanite," Crystal gasped. "Tanzanite is alive?!"

Gold beamed. "Indeed she is. She told me she wasn't on the second floor at the time of the…whatever the hell happened in there."

"Explosion," Crystal informed him.

He nodded. "Outsiders managed to get people within the chapel to safety, but…guests died. I don't know who got out."

"Oh…" An enormous weight shifted in Crystal's heavy heart. There was no way of knowing if Green or Blue got out, or anyone else she knew within there. But Tanzanite escaped. She was alive and kicking.

Gold's eyes softened. "I know you're probably all worked up now, but you should rest, Cryssy. You shouldn't go back to that castle for the time being. If someone could set fire to a holy church, who knows what they'll want to do to the palace. And anyways…you're safe here. Tanzanite's just crazy enough to leap in front of any armed guard who tries to drag you away. Emerald's a tough kid; he's been taking lessons from a swordsman. Pearl is…well, he's Pearl, so he's scrawny, but he's too stubborn to lose in a fight. And you've got me." He grinned, but it quickly was replaced with an expression of worry. "Crystal, you're…"

He trailed off. Hot, fat tears had started spilling down her cheeks. "How could you…how could you all do this?" she asked. "I'm not that important as a person…why do you all protect me so much? Why, when I don't deserve any of you? Why, when you already have done so much for me? Why, when I should be at that horrible palace trying to get to the root of this problem, trying to ease citizens with fake smiles when inside I'm grieving from this? Why, when I'm so horrible that other people die because someone wanted me to go down?" She pounded a fist against her friend, but he didn't flinch. "Why does this happen? Why do I only hurt people? And yet, you all just— just—"

She could not find a way to finish her sentence, so she broke down, hiccupping and bawling uncontrollably, all of her built up emotions over the past week pouring out.

Gold picked her up effortlessly, putting her on the mattress. "You need to sleep," he mumbled, thinking that her weariness added to her emotional trauma. He tried to sit back in the chair he was using to keep watch over her, but she held onto him with surprising strength. He quirked an eyebrow and gave her a questioning look, to which she turned beet red, still wiping at tears.

Gold sighed, but smiled anyways, and sat down on the edge and let her cry into him as he held her. He leaned back against the wall, remarking smartly, "You know, it isn't proper for a lady to be sharing a bed with a strange man."

"You're not strange," she murmured, and he felt her smile against his chest.

"Oh, really?"

Crystal was not sure when she had decided that Gold was someone constant who she could count on. But two months earlier he was just the irritating baker's son that she stumbled upon on her excursions into town. Now, he was there for her, and she did not want to be rid of him. Somewhere along the way, she found, she had begun to need him, just as she needed any of her other friends.

And still, Gold was so different from them. Crystal had known his feelings ever since he kissed her, and here he was, holding her as she shook with sobs, yet she had no desire to move from him. It was not smart—not in the slightest—but he was so warm and with his arms around her, she truly believed that things could be alright, if he were by her side.

There was a pause. "You stayed with me all through the night because you care about me, don't you?" She did not dare look up at him as she spoke.

Gold did not reply for a long while. "Before I came here with Tanzanite and Cheren," he started, "I told my father why we were going. That Cheren wanted to see Belle, and Tanzanite and I had to make sure that you were safe. And he looked me in the eye and told me it was the family curse getting to me." He let out short, harsh bark of ironic laughter. "And it's that the men of this family are cursed forever to adore women who are far too good for them." He was brave enough to look down and meet her eyes. "I think you've already known since the night of the first snowfall. I care about you more than I should, Crystal. It does not matter to me if it is wrong, but it is a pity if rank should matter to you, for then you are in the arms of a man who you do not love."

"I've never cared for rank," she snapped, tears forgotten. "My status has never prohibited me before, and it certainly shall not now. I would be a thousand times happier with a man I've come to love than one I am forced upon. I would be a thousand times happier with you, and that is one thing I know for certain."

Crystal could see a grin split Gold's face in the dim light. "At least one good thing came out of this horrendous day; you did not have to marry that prince. And I know now you'd allow me to do this." He pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Is that all?" she asked, a rare mischievous glint gracing her deep sapphire eyes. She lifted herself up slightly and kissed him square on the mouth. Her heart soared within her, and she knew this was the right choice. She would not ever feel this way with Red; one simply could not force the thrill of love.

When she pulled back, Gold wiped away any water left on her rosy cheeks, whispering, "How lucky I am," before they laid back, settling into the comfort of one another.

She should have been out scouring the streets for Green, Blue, Red, and Yellow, but she was so tired, so incredibly tired, and she was so safe in Gold's arms that she could not fight sleep when it ambushed her.

A/N: WHY IS EVERYONE CONSTANTLY DISORIENTED IN THIS STORY?!

Sorry for the delay, I was away...
Happy belated birthday to Gold! (July 21st) for your present, I gave you an appearance, finally!
I have such troubles writing scenes with Red, and I don't know why. But I feel like that last little bit was one of those Matt Smith moments where he says something really silly and then bursts out to dramatic music. Like, "Take care of my cat" and then something out of an adventure movie's score XD

I can't believe some of you actually thought I killed Crystal. I mean, I was trying to make you believe that, but I just couldn't ever do that to her XD too weak of a writer. One of the recent reviews was saying I couldn't kill her for storyline, but I just made it dramatic...that's totally correct XD

And if you've noticed, I just got over ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS. SERIOUSLY. I honestly cannot believe this. I know this is because the story's been around so long and a lot of the reviews are for the original four chapters, and I have so many loyal followers, but it's just crazy. I never thought this might happen. I can't really tell who the 100th review was, because it suddenly went from 99 to 102 but with one guest review, so I'll just shout out to the ones who were generally close to being 100: Pokeluv101, (a guest), MissFairyTailLover, & TigerSneak1! Thanks also to pokemonredshipper & Vi ChaN91312 who have been here basically the whole time and are always giving me encouragement! :D

Anywho, final arc. Let's see what I can scrape up before the end ^-^
Rant over! Thanks for reading!
-Silvia

Dislcaimer: I do not own Pokespe or anything else.