This chapter contains extreme dumpster abuse…so if that offends you, read at your own discretion.

Chapter 14

Ed felt his heart starting to race as the motorcycle sped past him, offering the young man a split second view of the occupant under the hood. With the flick of his wrist, the engine of Ed's car roared to life. He didn't care if Mustang was knocked flat on his back, or the fact that he wasn't a police officer. Scar was his quarry, had been from the start. This whole plan had been designed down to the last detail in order to catch the raving murderer. Clearly there had been a hitch.

Ed spun the wheel viciously, quickly jolting out of its space next to the curb, and Ed pressed roughly on the accelerator, speeding after the motorcycle. It didn't take long for the red car to catch up to the motorcycle that Scar was on. The Ishvalan man turned his head back and Ed could clearly see the pale scar on his forehead. A sudden movement distracted him and when Ed turned back, he saw Scar darting in between two cars. With a gritting of his teeth, Ed rotated the wheel with haste, mounting the curb.

A loud horn sounded, but Ed didn't waste the time necessary to even give the driver the middle finger as he swerved back on to the road. Scar's motorcycle was weaving back and forth between lanes, but Ed constantly made sure to keep him in his sights. Buildings quickly flew past the two of them and Ed noticed how the structure of the housing was gradually changing. Where the houses had been close together, they had still been houses at the start of the chase. Now, however, the two storied buildings had given way to high-rise apartment buildings. Scar was taking the two of them into the heart of East City.

Sure enough, after a block or two, stands started appearing, indicating that they had entered the market. Ed scowled; Scar was trying to lose himself in the crowd. Knowing this was their one and only chance to get the Ishvalan man, the forensics specialist decided to throw caution to the wind. He quickly jerked his wheel to the right and honked loudly, causing a number of people to jump out of his way. In no time at all, Ed had pulled up alongside Scar. Another twirl of the wheel and Scar was forced to the side of the road with Ed quickly following him. A fruit stand was quickly approaching and Scar swerved, nicking the stand. Ed, on the other hand, didn't care, plowing into the stand and causing fruit to scatter everywhere. Scar seemed to be caught off-guard by this rash action, whipping his head around.

Ed just pressed harder, his car completing its demolition of the poor stand before finally catching up to the bewildered Scar and ramming his motorcycle's back. In the instant that Ed's car hit the smaller vehicle, Scar leapt from his cycle and rolled off, dashing for a nearby alleyway. Ed pulled his car up short as his hood was quickly smashed in by the motorcycle. As soon as the forces of inertia slowed the car, Ed jumped out and sped for the alleyway that Scar had escaped to. He didn't care about his car as long as he was in a good enough position to take Scar down; after all, his wife was the best mechanic in the east.

"Scar!" Ed yelled furiously. The brief outburst caused the man to look back at him, though it wasn't as if he'd had a choice. Ed smirked at how lucky he was: the two were in a dead end alley with no way out except for behind the young man. With a tribal cry, Ed ran at Scar and took a swing with his fist.

Of course, he underestimated Scar's strength and speed, only realizing his folly when his back was slammed against the brick wall and air was forced out of his lungs. Scar took another dash for the exit, but Ed recovered quicker than that, latching himself onto the Ishvalan's legs. The both of them took a tumble, a gun dislodging from Scar's belt. Ed quickly scrambled over Scar's form, dashing for the gun. He hadn't quite made it when Scar head-butted him in the stomach, sending him sprawling near the exit. Wheezing profusely, Ed struggled to stand as Scar made his dash for the gun, aiming it at the young man.

"Out of the way, boy!" he snarled, his voice deep and growling. Ed observed his surroundings as he heard the faint clicking of the gun. A garbage dumpster rested in the latter half of the alley, sitting directly under a fire escape. Behind him was the chattering populace and the ever encroaching whining of police sirens. "I will not hesitate to shoot you."

"Like hell I'll let you!" In an impressive feat of leg strength, Ed planted his right foot and swung at Scar, his automail leg quickly making contact with the killer's gun hand. As before, the gun flew away from Scar, who recoiled in pain, striking the brick wall with extraordinary force. The gun went off with a loud BANG!, the bullet striking the side of the dumpster harmlessly.

"An automail leg, is it?" Scar mused to Ed, who glared at him with loathing. "You remind me much of my brothers who have seen combat in Creta. What hell have you seen?"

"Why don't I show you? !" As the final syllables left his mouth, Ed ducked low and swung his leg in an attempt to trip his opponent. Scar jumped to avoid the blow and came down in a crouch, quickly grabbing Ed by his jacket. Ed screeched loudly as the Ishvalan lifted him over his head and threw him into the dumpsters. It was lucky chance that his body had been thrown in such a way that allowed him to use his automail leg to soften the blow, though it still sent shivers into his very teeth.

Ed's head was sent into a daze for a moment, but the blaring lights of police vehicles brought him back. He laughed softly; now Scar couldn't get out the way he had wanted to. Of course, he realized, it didn't mean there weren't other ways to get out, and the tramping on the dumpster reminded him of such. Spinning around, Ed's hand shot forward, scrabbling on his foe's jacket. The distraction was adequate and Scar was forced to abandon his chance for escape. The hard grip on his jacket propelled Scar backward, tearing at the leather that was its makeup. A kick outward made Ed release his grip in order to duck. By the time he looked up, Scar had discarded his jacket, the impressive tattoos on his arms gleaming amongst his bulk of muscles.

"Must you insist on getting in my way?" Scar growled out before lunging at him. Scar's right hand struck out, aiming for the side of Ed's face. Ed made a swift block with his own right hand. The Ishvalan's eyes widened as Ed smirked wickedly. Up until now, it had been Scar who controlled the battle, so Ed had never had a chance to show his combat skills. Scar struck again, this time with his left hand. Once again, Ed blocked before pushing his own offensive, his fists flying out. As expected, Scar was able to block every single one of them, but in doing so had pushed himself further away from the fire escape, and his way out.

Ed aimed a punch toward him, but Scar quickly caught the fist and prepared to throw the young man once again. "Not…this time!" Ed's left hand grabbed Scar's hand and used it as leverage to jettison his knee into the older man's crotch. Naturally, Scar managed to move out of the way, the attack instead connecting with his abdomen. The assault clearly staggered Scar and he let go of Ed, stumbling backwards. Ed dropped from his position and sped forward, his next punch landing squarely in Scar's gut.

Scar dodged Ed's next attack with alacrity, but missed the incoming attack from his left leg, leaving him sprawled on the ground. Ed punched downward as Scar rolled away towards the dumpsters. The young specialist swore loudly through gritted teeth as his right hand made contact with concrete, tearing the skin of his knuckles. Scar was scrambling to get up as Ed blocked the pain that his hand was feeling. More than anger was starting to course through his veins now; now it was the sheer determination to beat this guy. He always had loved a challenge, and Scar was certainly giving him one. Even he could admit how skilled the darker skinned man was, and despite all the signs indicating that this battle could go south at any moment, Ed ignored the bloody mess that was his hand and ran forward, his left leg preventing Scar from standing by kicking him into the dumpster. His right hand once again aimed for Scar's face, and like before, his fist only made contact with the stoic metal. However, this time his legs were left wide open and his opponent easily used it to his advantage.

Ed slipped, his head banging on the dumpster, a small cut opening up on his forehead. He swore again, only as Scar's fist made contact with his stomach. The momentum carried him forward and the forensics specialist was thrown against the insurmountable brick wall. The force with which he had struck the wall hadn't been too great, but enough to once again daze Ed. He saw Scar rushing at him, pure malice glowing in his eyes, and Ed backed up a few centimeters, suddenly fearing for his life. He didn't want to die here! But still…Scar had killed Winry's parents. Wasn't that enough to see this fight through to the end? Scar was getting ever closer, and that was when Ed felt it behind him: the gun.

In the few seconds after Ed had registered the gun was there, he had whipped it out and aimed it at the advancing Ishvalan. Scar froze for a split second, enough time for Ed to strike out with his automail leg and send the man sprawling backward. Ed struggled to stand, his head pounding and the cuts on his forehead and hand sending pangs through his body. Nonetheless, he steadied himself, leveling the gun at Scar, who stared at him as he tried to regain his breath. Voices were heard from beyond the barricade and Ed saw a figure enter the alleyway, his own gun held to bear.

"About time you got here, Mustang! Did you take a side trip or something?" Ed snarled as Mustang surveyed him with a mixture of alarm and indignation. Past that, Ed paid the head detective little mind, turning back to Scar, who didn't dare to make a move. "All right, Scar, it's over."

"Are you going to shoot me, boy?" Scar sounded calm, completely unfazed by the weapon in his face.

"He's right, Fullmetal, you don't have the authority to do that," Mustang reminded him with a stern tone, but Ed refused to shift from his position. "Put the gun down, Ed."

"Why should I?" he spat, sparing only the briefest of glances at the detective. "Scar needs to answer for everything he's done!"

"You think I don't know that!" Mustang protested vehemently. "I was there the day he blew up the police station. I lost some of my friends that day, so I want him to answer for his crimes too. But the second you pull that trigger, you've turned from being a man of the law into a mindless vigilante."

"He killed Winry's parents! He killed Nina! And for what? !" Ed was sure by this point that his cries were echoing over the whole damn city, but the anger and injustice kept bubbling forth. "Why did you blow up that hospital? ! They were doctors-civilians, and you killed them!"

"Why ask me for an answer when you have already decided that the one I will give is not adequate enough?" Scar answered sagely and Mustang turned to keep his gun on the man.

"Because I want to know what possessed you to take the lives of people who had done nothing but help others."

"That is an answer gotten in an interrogation room," Mustang pointed out, "not while being held at gunpoint. Do you understand me, Elric? That's what justice is!"

"Don't try to use the word 'justice' like it's your own personal calling, Mustang." Ed's eyes had become all but slits now as he continued to glare at the murderer in front of him. "If you knew this man were Hughes' killer, you'd shoot him dead without a second thought."

"As far as I know, he's not though; and that still doesn't change the fact that you have no authority to pull that trigger." Ed's hands trembled on the gun. The detective was right that the second he pulled the trigger he'd be just as much of a criminal as the man he now held at gunpoint. But…

"If you're going to shoot, I'd suggest you do it quickly…before you lose your nerve," Scar said, causing the young man's hands even more so.

"Don't listen to him, Ed!" Mustang snapped out. "He may deserve to die, but do you really think you're the one that should do it? You're not a killer!"

"But…Winry's parents…and Nina…" Ed felt his hands tighten around the cold metal of the weapon.

"Yes, they're dead, and it's tragic; but do you really think they'd want you to do this?" The detective's words suddenly broke through to Ed's logical side, and his grip slackened, albeit only slightly. "The Rockbells were doctors. They saved lives and would probably look down on anybody that took them, even if that meant including their son-in-law.

"So, just think, Ed. Think about what they would do in this situation, and think about your wife. Do you want her to be the wife of a killer?"

"Don't you ever think about it, Winry? I mean, don't you ever hate the person who killed your parents?"

"Hmm? Never really gave it much thought. Sure, I have to hate the man who took mom and dad from me…but at the same time, I try not to think about it…because they're gone and they can't come back."

"You never wanted revenge?"

"Stop being stupid, Ed! Mom and dad would never want me to keep obsessing over their deaths. That's why they were doctors: they wanted to work with the living."

"Put down the gun, Ed, and we can make this all right," Mustang insisted as Ed's conversation with Winry kept playing over and over again. "Put down the gun and trust me to do my job right. Trust your partner."

Stop being stupid, Ed! Ed breathed in and out, Winry's chiding over his foolishness going around on a loop.

In…Why did Winry always have to be there?

Out…Of course…that was why. He loved her, and he didn't want to see her cry. This would make her cry again. If she knew about what he was even contemplating, it would break her heart. She had never cared, even if the man had done irreparable damage to her. She kept living, and working for the living, because it was what her parents would have wanted.

And she gave him a leg to live…but not to take others' lives. So, Ed let go of the gun, the metal slipping from his fingers and falling onto the concrete. The final CLANG of his decision rang in his ears as Mustang quickly moved in to arrest Scar, quickly replaced with the sounds of his own breathing. His eyes saw nothing but the brick wall that his enemy had been in front of just moments before. Numbness filled every pore of his body…and then he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You're not a killer, Ed, and that's a good thing," Roy assured him. Ed just heaved in a huge breath.

"I know that. I just can't believe that you were the one to snap me out of it." Roy looked offended for the briefest of moments before clapping Ed on the back again.

"Well, you got him, huh?" Ed nodded solemnly, his heart still thumping away wildly inside his chest.

"Yeah…now I just want to know why," Ed said with a grave look dominating his face.

"Then let's go find out, huh?" Mustang answered him with a smirk, waving the forensics specialist forward. Ed followed with another deep sigh. "We'll take my car. I had Havoc and Breda take Scar in for booking, so he's in good hands."

Ed grunted in acknowledgement, but said nothing more. In fact, he realized later that he could barely remember a single thing from his ride back to the police station. It was literally just a big blur to him. Winry's face kept appearing in his mind, as if reminding him of what he almost did. He already felt pretty crummy for even thinking of it, but then she just had to come and taunt him even more. It was certainly a good thing he had decided to not go through with it. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with Winry hating him for becoming a killer; that would have been no life at all.

"He's in Room B. Hav and I will be in the box."

"All right, thanks, Breda." Ed snapped out of his otherwise delirious state to see Mustang leading them down to the interrogation room. "I'll let you sit in the room, but I'm asking all questions."

"Sure, whatever…" Ed mumbled, catching a glimpse of the file that was now in the detective's hands. Mustang paused outside the door to spare Ed a look of discernment before pushing into the interrogation room.

Scar looked up as they entered, his eyes remaining clear and focused in Ed's mind. He was cuffed to the table which was bolted to the floor. His gleaming tattoos were exposed, their intricate patterns snaking their way up his arms and Ed's own sight was focused on them as he sat in the chair next to Mustang. There was a brief void in the room until Mustang flipped open the folder he was holding.

"Scar…one of the most notorious mass murderers ever known…We ran your fingerprints and who knew that you served in the Special Forces?" Mustang quipped and Ed looked at him, surprised. "I guess that's where you got your tattoos from?"

"For the most part," Scar answered him shortly.

"And the scar?"

"Combat in Creta. Look, can we cut to the chase? I'm willing to offer up a full confession."

"So easily?" Mustang had one eyebrow quirked. Scar growled in what Ed assumed was frustration.

"I am not going to fight it when you have enough evidence to prosecute and get a guilty verdict."

"All right, then. First question, were you the one behind the Ishval Bombings?" Mustang's gaze had suddenly become sharp and Ed found himself more than grateful he was on this side of the table.

"Yes." The answer had been curt and the detectives next question was equally so.

"Why?"
"My brother. He was a psychologist in your police department…and was murdered by one of your own." Ed and Mustang shared a look as Scar continued on. "I was part of the bomb-making squad when I was in the Special Forces, so making one was a simple task."

"I'm sorry, back up a second. You said your brother, the department psychologist, was 'murdered by one of our own'?" Mustang repeated. "How do you know this? What evidence did you have?"

"My brother was a righteous man! He was well-loved in the community, particularly for his outreach programs!" Scar's face alighted with a fury as he explained his knowledge. "No one in Ishval would have hurt my brother. Not for petty change or anything!"

"That's fairly circumstantial, all things considered. Sometimes things happen."

"He was shot with a gun that is the same caliber as the one you policemen used," Scar told them, his anger seemingly abated. "My brother and I shared an apartment in Ishval since I'd not had time to buy one since I returned from deployment in Creta. He didn't return home from work that night, so I went and followed his route home and found his body. He was shot twice from the front. I knew how to read the bullet holes…it was part of my training."

"What caliber?"

".45 caliber." Mustang nodded his head, a frown on his face.

"So, that's the reason for the bombings. You knew that an officer had done it, but not who."

"I was angry. In my anger and hatred I sought vengeance for my brother's soul and decided to take it out on the ones that I believed were the objects of my hatred. Since I did not know who committed this heinous crime, I used a tactic that would hit many in one fell swoop."

"Then why did you bomb the hospital? !" Ed yelled, standing up violently. Scar looked at him with doleful eyes as Mustang moved to drag him back into his chair. "Why…?"

"I only meant to harm the officers that were either injured or stationed there. Any others were unfortunate casualties." Ed felt the anger still stirring within him, but he managed to keep it in check. "I apologize for whatever pain-"

"Save it. It's not me you should apologize to." Ed slumped back in his seat, glowering at the floor as though it had wronged him somehow. So…Scar's brother had been the psychologist in Ishval. All along, Scar had been going down the same path of vengeance as he and Mustang. But somewhere along the way, Ed had turned off the path. All that remained now was seeing where Mustang's path would take him.

"Well, now that we have the why for the bombings out of the way…" Mustang announced, clearing his throat loudly. "Were you at the gala in Central on Sunday night?"

"Yes. But I did not kill that man," Scar objected and once more, Mustang raised his eyebrow. "I went there because I had heard various police officers would be there and I was planning to get enough information for my next mark. I had no weapons and was nowhere near the roof of any building."

"You seem to know an awful lot about the shooting."

"Do you really think that after spending five years in the Amestrian Special Forces, I wouldn't know these things?"

"A fair point," Mustang acceded. "You were not the one that killed Prince Claudio, then?"

"No, I did not. Nor did I see the shooter. As soon as I heard the ruckus caused by the assassination, I fled in hoped of not being incriminated or caught."

"All right…all right, one more question." Mustang's eyes abruptly flashed with fire. "Did you kill Detective Maes Hughes?" Ed flicked his eyes to the head detective but said nothing.

"No. I've never even heard of the man." Mustang sighed before putting all his papers back into his folder.

"Well-"

"Hey, boss. You might want to grab Fullmetal and get in here," came Breda's voice through the speaker in the room. Ed quickly stood and immediately exited from the room as Mustang excused them. Inhaling and exhaling loudly, Ed paused outside the door to the interrogation box. It was becoming just a little too much.

"You all right, Fullmetal?" Roy asked softly, almost father-like. Taking a moment to right his head before answering, he nodded silently. There was a brief moment where neither felt the need to say anything. Then, "How does it feel? Finally catching him?"

"It…doesn't feel like anything. I just feel like the thing I've chased after for years is gone, and now I'm left with nothing." Ed ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm himself. "Guess I have to find something new to strive for."

That seemed to settle the subject and the both of them entered into the small room. Ed froze and Roy bumped into him. Standing before them was Commissioner Bradley, a cup of tea perched delicately in his hands. He nodded to them discreetly as he took a sip, his eyes crinkling with pleasure. "Thank you for the tea, Detective Breda. Oh, Detective Havoc, I believe we can escort our serial killer to the holding cells, assuming you're finished with him, of course."

"Er…I believe so, sir," Mustang answered snappily, sidling into the room from behind Ed. At the commissioner's request, Breda and Havoc quietly took their leave of the room, leaving the two partners alone with the man. Bradley nodded to himself, turning to look through the two-way mirror into the interrogation room.

"Quite the thing, Mustang, quite the thing," Bradley stated, never turning to face them.

"Yes…I'm sorry, forgive my rudeness, but what are you doing here, sir?"

"Do I need an alternative reason to come and see to the capture of Prince Claudio's assassin?"

"It wasn't him, sir," Mustang protested resolutely. Bradley gave a small half-nod before turning back to the two of them.

"Well, either way, you've saved Central a lot of trouble. The Ishvalan Bomber, in the flesh. I think you made this quite the commendable exercise." Ed continued staring at the commissioner, the usual icy grip freezing his heart. "However, as I understand it, this was quite the reckless and dangerous one, as well."

"No one was hurt, as far as I remember," Mustang commented and Bradley grunted out his assent.

"But they could have been. You're head detective, Mustang. You should be setting a better example for the younger officers." Mustang frowned in the corner of Ed's eyes, and the young man's heart began to increase almost tenfold in its beatings. "Unfortunately, while I'd like to remonstrate you for your imprudent behavior, I still need a man like you on the force. Crime rates won't lower on their own and criminals won't catch themselves.

"As for yourself, Fullmetal, I'm afraid I can't be quite so lenient."

"What?" The single word that dropped from Ed's mouth was filled with dread.

"You're not a detective, despite what your prowess might say," Bradley told him frankly. "You destroyed a fruit stand in town and I just can't have that kind of cocksure attitude from my forensics specialists. You're hired to run forensics, not play at being detective."

"But, sir-"

"I'm sorry, Fullmetal, but I'm suspending you for a week. That should help you to get your head back on straight."

"Sir, I can't take a break from work! Without me, they'll be swamped. We're understaffed as it is."

"I'm sure they'll manage. They did before you came here." Bradley sighed and placed a congenial hand on Ed's shoulder. "This is for your own good, Fullmetal. Your desk will be waiting for you when you come back next Thursday, so go and enjoy your time off with your wife." Ed bristled and grumbled, hoping to find some way out of it.

When, at last, he could see no escape, he grit his teeth and reluctantly replied with a "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Can we have Officers Ross and Brosh drive him home? Have a splendid vacation, Fullmetal." Commissioner Bradley then left the room. Ed stayed for a moment more before following the commissioner's footsteps, ignoring Mustang calling out to him. He didn't want to think anymore. From Scar to suspension, this day had barely a speck of good news, and it was getting the better of him.

"Ready to go, Mister Elric?" came a female voice. Ed briefly looked at the woman that had acknowledged him, recognizing her. "I'll take your silence as a yes. Come with me." Ed didn't bother to protest, instead just forcing his body to go through the motions. By the end of his trip, those motions had led him to his house in Resembool. He thanked the officers before heading inside.

"Ed, is that you?" called Winry from the kitchen. Ed suddenly perked up at the sound of his wife's voice.

"Yeah, where're Al and Mei?" Ed responded as Winry came into the hall, drying her hands.

"Emergency at work, apparently…What the hell happened to your hand? !" Ed cursed inwardly as he realized that his hand was still bleeding and he had let Winry see it.

"It's nothing!" Winry glared at him, but otherwise said nothing, opting for grabbing his hand and dragging him into the living room.

"Nothing doesn't make your hand bleed. We'll have to wrap it," Winry explained as she delicately held Ed's hand. Her soft fingers played across his skin and he was disappointed when she left to go get a bandage. "I know you got into a fight, but you need to realize that your body is important."

"Right…why do I get the feeling you'd rather have all my body parts replaced with automail?" She slapped him, sending him reeling.

"That's not funny, Ed! I care about you; all of you!" she snapped at him, tears in her eyes. "I don't want to have to make another piece of automail for you because you're so reckless."
"I didn't have a choice," he grumbled.

"Why? What was the fight about this time? Did someone call you short? Or was Detective Mustang just antagonizing you again?" Winry huffed out, folding her arms. "You really need to learn to control your temp-"

"I caught the guy who killed your parents, Winry. That's who I was fighting." Ed had stood while he explained this, Winry sitting back on the couch with a soft "oh". Ed growled loudly, ruffling through his hair. "I had him, and I could have finished him. I just couldn't pull the trigger because I didn't want to do that to you. I felt so useless!"

"I'm pregnant."

"Then Commissioner Bradley arrived and suspended me for a week, so who knows what kind of hell I'm going to go through when I get back."

"Ed!" He stopped in his frantic pacing as he turned to face his wife, to whom he'd been all but oblivious during his ranting. "I'm pregnant."

He felt as though his entire world had been flipped over by her words. He gaped at her like a goldfish, no thoughts or words traveling through his lips. Winry looked at him worriedly, twisting her fingers before he finally managed to get a word out. "How?"

"I would hope you'd know how, Ed."

"Then…when?" Her finger twisting increased in speed as she sought to answer him.

"A few weeks ago, when you were still working in Central. I was feeling nauseous every morning so I called grandma and she told me to visit a doctor where they told me I was pregnant." She was smiling as she told him this, though the warm light radiating from her dropped after a moment. "Are-are you angry?"

Ed stood there a moment, the shock of the news permeating every cell of his body. This must have been what Winry had been trying to tell him his second day at East. He raised his eyes to look at his wife, meeting his eyes with hers. A second later, he had scooped her up and kissed her with all the tender passion in the world. "Angry? This is amazing! Sure, we're a little young, but we're going to be parents!"

"You're…happy about this, then?" Winry sounded relieved and Ed pressed his forehead to hers, a smile stretching his face.

"Of course I'm happy. Heck, after this crappy day, you've brought me the most amazing news in the world." Winry laughed loudly.

"Sometimes you can act like such a sap." Ed rapidly grabbed her hand, and pressed his free hand to her stomach.

"Why wouldn't I? It's a kid, Winry. Something that you and I created together. That is nothing short of amazing." Winry smiled again, radiating beauty from every part of her being. All at once, Ed kissed her again, deftly using his hands to remove her apron while her own hands worked on his shirt. Winry's blouse went next, but by that point the two of them felt they were the only people in the world.

Author's Note: At last I finished this chapter! I know I took a super long time but these last few weeks have been filled with many family issues that have precluded me from writing. Either way, this finishes the fifth arc of the story, finally spelling out something I've been hinting at since Chapter 2. For those of you who have not seen my profile page, essentially I plan to have this story finished by start of summer. It'll be a lot of work to tack on to my job search but I feel confident I can make it happen. So, in the meantime, please drop me a review (constructive criticism is appreciated), tell your friends for more reviews, and Dare to be Silly.