Chapter 12: In Too Deep

Ed sighed, flipping through the eighth book he'd pulled from the shelves. He hadn't had much luck finding leads or anything that would be of use in his search, but then again, he wasn't trying all that hard.

The first few books he'd poured over, eager to actually do some research. However, the longer he stayed in the library, the more aware he became of the time passing, the dusty clock on the wall ticking all too fast.

He knew he'd have to go home at some point.

He just wished he had more time, more time to simply exist and not feel threatened. To just live and not feel like every move he made was being scrutinized and criticized.

With a grunt of frustration Ed flipped back a few pages, hoping that he'd actually comprehend what he was reading the fifth time around. Ed wasn't sure why he was having so much trouble focusing and actually getting this research done. He wanted to find the stone, wanted to do all he could to help Al.

Especially considering it was all his fault.

However, no matter how much Ed tried to focus and take notes, his brain would wander to the little time he had left in the day, and the anxiety that came with it left his brain fuzzy and dull.

When the words still didn't seem to make sense, Ed decided to lay his head on the desk and take a small break. He was frustrated with himself, but he was also exhausted and didn't want to try reading the same four pages again.

Ed closed his eyes and bit his lip, trying to keep the wave of despair from becoming a river down his face.

He was worthless, couldn't even keep it together long enough to do the research needed to save his brother.

He was wasting military resources, wasting time.

He couldn't even do the one alchemical job he'd been given after his "vacation".

He was useless.

Try as he may, the haunting thoughts still broke through his wall and Ed sniffled as the loose tears dripped onto the pages of the currently incomprehensible book. He knew the water could mess up the pages, but he was too tired to make any effort to move his head and put the book away.

He almost couldn't believe how much he'd cried over the last few weeks, or the fact that he was no longer strong enough to hold it all back. He used to pride himself on the fact that he rarely shed tears for any reason.

Al would say it's because Ed's had to be strong for too long, but Ed didn't think that was any part of it.

Ed took a shaky breath in a poor attempt to pull himself together, but his thoughts were still racing, Hohenheim's cruel words picking apart any remnants of his self-worth.

"You're nothing more than a spoiled child."

"You got your brother killed!"

"You make me sick."

The wooden chair Ed was using creaked under him as his body shook, soft sobs and gasps for air trailing from Ed's mouth as he cried. He was thankful that it was late enough in the day that most people had left, and he seemed to be the only one in the library.

He didn't need anyone to see him like this, he didn't need Mustang and Hawkeye finding out about it. He knew they were starting to piece things together, and while that terrified him, part of him didn't care and was eager for them to finally figure it out.

He was tired of putting up a front, tired of pretending like nothing was wrong. Especially considering how much everything hurt.

His back still stung, his stomach still ached from the constant turmoil in his head, his head burned from the lack of sleep and overwhelming emotional strife Ed had been facing.

No matter how much Ed tried, life kept delivering the final blow. Raking him over the coals, only to carelessly slide him into the fire.

Ed was never one to be religious, but everything that kept happening only seemed to justify that notion even further. If a God did exist, they must have some cruel sense of justice.

Thinking on that only furthered the jumbled mess that was twisting around in Ed's head, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block some of it out.

It did little to help; Ed's mind was foggy and overwhelmed, and with the added exhaustion it was only a matter of time before Ed fell asleep.

Only then, did the tears finally start to cease.

"I'm relaying the information to Fullmetal tomorrow, and then we'll meet to discuss where to go from there. I'd like to have a team at the incident site as soon as possible to see if there's anything we can find that's of use," Roy explained as he slipped his jacket on.

His team was gathered in his office, as they went over debriefing materials for the day. Fuery had left early, but Breda and Havoc were sitting on the couch as Hawkeye stood behind them.

"With all due respect sir, do you think Fullmetal is ready for a job like this?" Breda asked cautiously. "I don't mean that he's not capable, more so that it seems like he's been going through hell recently."

Mustang paused, uncertain of how to answer that without revealing too much, or without coming off like an asshole.

"I gotta say, I'm kinda with Breda on this one," Havoc chimed in. "Fullmetal's just a kid and it doesn't take an investigation team to see that he's majorly struggling."

Roy sighed and looked to Hawkeye, hoping she'd have something to add. However, Riza merely looked back at him with the same concern the others had, waiting to hear Roy's response.

"I don't think he'll ever be ready," Roy said after a moment of thought. "Whatever he's going through, he's keeping it to himself. But until he decides he wants to talk about it, he has to at least be willing to do the job he signed up for."

Roy grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth, realizing how harsh they must sound.

"He's a tough kid, and he's not going to be doing the job alone," Roy said, "I know this is a more serious incident, but all the more reason to get the entire team together, Fullmetal included. He'll be ok, so long as we have his back."

"Hopefully working with the team and being a part of something important will help him get back on his feet, and help him realize his worth again," Hawkeye added.

Roy caught her eyes once more, and they shared a silent moment of understanding. Edward wouldn't be able to get back on his feet until the one pulling him down was removed from the picture, but the rest of the team didn't need to know that.

"Yeah, yeah that's a good point," Breda acknowledged, Havoc nodding along with him. "Good luck briefing him on the material tomorrow," he added with a chuckle.

Mustang laughed with them, and they talked for a little while longer before closing the office and walking out. He wished them a good evening and strolled down the stairs toward the library.

Knowing Ed, and knowing the kind of situation he was in, Roy wouldn't be surprised to find him still there pouring over books and overworking himself.

However, upon opening the heavy wooden door and walking to Ed's usual desk in the back, Roy was surprised to find the boy asleep.

Ed's head was resting on his non-automail arm, on top of a book he seemed to have started. A thin line of drool trickled from his barely parted lips, and Roy couldn't help but notice the red around his eyes and the dried streaks left from tears departed.

His heart crumpled at the sight, and he had to take a minute to regain the composure he knew he'd need once the boy was awoken.

Who knows how long Ed had been here, alone, distraught and crying? Mustang knew the kid likely would only have been able to cry in a space like this - alone and quiet – but that doesn't mean it didn't still hurt to see it. Especially knowing Ed had likely cried himself to sleep.

Though, Mustang thought, at least he was getting sleep.

Roy knew Ed was trying to put up a front, and not let other people see what was really going on, but there was no hiding the exhaustion. Not when it was as great this.

Roy was hesitant to startle him, but he knew Ed needed to be getting home, or at least going somewhere with a proper bed. Even if that just meant crashing at a friend's house.

Did Ed even have friends?

He'd never seen the kid anywhere other than at work, and he knew Edward tended to keep to himself with the exception of Al. It was very probably that he didn't really know anyone else, especially not anyone else his age.

Poor kid, never given the chance to have a normal childhood.

Roy shook his head at the thought; pondering on it would do no good right now. Especially since he was the one that helped get him enlisted; if he continued to ruminate on it, he'd just start to feel guilty.

Instead, he took a deep breath and gently rocked Ed's shoulder.

Ed came out of sleep slowly, much to Mustang's surprise. He was worried he'd startle the kid, but instead he drowsily blinked up at him with a look of confusion.

"Nice nap?" Roy chuckled, "I know I said to do research but I'm glad you were able to get some sleep. You need it, or you're never going to grow any taller."

The lighthearted comment seemed to bounce back off of Ed's glazed over eyes, as the kid didn't respond and instead continued to blink back up at Mustang.

"Earth to Fullmetal?"

Roy waved a hand in front of Ed's eyes, and the sudden movement was enough to snap him out of whatever daze he was in from waking up. Ed flinched, hard, and Roy could see him tense up immediately.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Mustang grimaced. He'd been trying to avoid that.

"S'ok," Ed mumbled, rubbing at his eyes furiously to get rid of the tear marks. He was embarrassed to have been caught sleeping on the job, and even more embarrassed that Mustang likely knew he'd been crying.

After all, the man wasn't completely oblivious.

"It's getting late, so I came to get you. Would you like a ride home?" Mustang asked.

Ed stiffened at that, his brain that had once been groggy from sleep now working in overdrive. After all, he did still have to go home. Even a good nap wasn't enough to erase that fact.

"That's ok, I can walk," Ed replied, closing the book he'd been using and standing up from his chair. His neck and back ached from the uncomfortable position, and the motion only further aggravated the wounds on his back that were now scabbing over.

He must have still looked rundown, because Mustang only cocked an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms.

"Nope, I already made up my mind. I was just asking to be nice, but it wasn't really a question."

"Mustang-"

"I've got my keys and am ready to go when you are."

Ed glared at his commander with as much scorn as he could muster, but he reckoned it looked pretty pathetic.

"Fine, but only because I'm too tired to deal with your bullshit right now," Ed snapped.

Roy only smirked, and the two of them walked out to his car. Ed couldn't help but start to get nervous, knowing that he'd be home soon and faster than he would have been had he walked.

At least walking would have given him the time to mentally prepare for facing Hohenheim, but he didn't want to try and explain that to Roy. Especially since Roy was already paranoid and investigative.

His heart hammered in his chest as the car started to life, and he could feel his palm getting clammy.

He didn't want to go home, but he knew he had to.

Roy asked for Ed's address, which Ed was able to supply without stammering, much to Ed's delight. Maybe he was adjusting, and still able to bottle up as much as was needed to keep people from getting concerned.

He was definitely not hiding things like he thought he was. Once glance sparked Mustang's concern; the kid looked like he was seconds away from hurling in Roy's car.

Roy cared for Fullmetal, he really did.

But he would rather Hawkeye shoot him than have to clean up vomit from the carpet flooring of his car.

The ride there was silent, Edward resting his head in his hand as he looked out the window, and Mustang trying to keep his focus on the road. Something hard to do, when all he wanted was to analyze his passenger and try to piece together anything the younger alchemist wasn't willing to tell him himself.

Before either of them knew it, they'd arrived, and Mustang was pulling aside to temporarily park the car in the street.

Hohenheim's house loomed over the yard, casting a dark shadow on the front lawn as the sun was setting behind it. Edward gulped nervously at the sight, not looking forward to whatever might happen. It could be a clean night, and he would walk in, wash his hair, and go to bed.

It could also be a rough night, where Hohenheim would find something to pick apart and hurt him for.

Roy on the other hand thought it seemed like a nice place, a bit on the older side but still charming, with windowsills that needed some staining and a rustic door decorating the front. He knew that the outside wasn't going to reflect anything that might be happening on the inside, but a small, naïve part of him had hoped the appearance would justify the initial feeling of unease he felt.

Mustang turned to talk to Edward and wish him a good evening but was silenced by the look on Ed's face.

Ed's eyes were wide, and his left fist was clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white. His mouth was slightly agape, quick breaths coming in and out.

"Fullmetal, is everything alright?"

Mustang didn't expect an answer, and he knew nothing was alright, but he figured it was a good icebreaker for the situation.

"Yes," Ed snapped quickly, shaking his head and trying to ease his terror at the thought of walking inside the building. He knew his breathing wouldn't slow until later that night when he was trying to fall asleep, but he could at least steel himself up and make it seem like it wasn't a big deal.

If…his fingers would unclench themselves.

Mustang watched as Edward desperately tried to pull himself together and shrug off whatever unease he was feeling. It worked no better than his gloves did when they were wet.

"You know Fullmetal, you could always crash at my place for the night if you needed to."

He wasn't sure how Edward was going to take it, and he was hesitant to offer, but it seemed like the right thing to say at the time.

In past years Ed would have thrown a fit at the idea of having to stay with Mustang, the whole town would hear his yelling of protest and disbelief.

Nevertheless, Ed was tempted. He was so damn tempted to ride home with Mustang, where he knew he'd be free from Hohenheim's rage and hatred. Where he could sleep in peace and know that Mustang – while he is a bastard – wouldn't let any harm come to him.

That would unfortunately be two nights he'd been away, and while Hohenheim hadn't ever given him an official time to return, if Ed failed to meet the invisible deadline that he was somehow supposed to know, there would be extreme punishment.

"I…I can't," Ed muttered eventually. He felt a weird guilt at turning down an offer he knew he desperately wanted to take, but that was a problem for future Ed to deal with.

"I've already been gone one night, I don't think two would be a good idea."

Roy raised an eyebrow at that but didn't bother to press into it. He knew Edward was already stressed and overwhelmed about going home, and he didn't want to make things worse. It also wasn't a hard no to the idea, which was surprising in its own way.

"Understandable, I can imagine you-Hohenheim would be pretty concerned," Roy stated, testing the waters ever so slightly. Though, he'd almost called Hohenheim Ed's father again, and didn't want to suffer the consequences of that. If he wanted to "test" the waters, that would have been jumping in, face first, with every limb made of automail.

"Uh, something like that," Ed mumbled.

The two of them sat in silence for a while. Sure, it was getting late, and Roy desperately wanted to go home, pour a glass of whisky, and lay in bed free from his uniform and stiff shoes.

However, Roy also wanted to give Edward as much time as he needed to prepare himself for his next steps and calm his mind as much as was possible.

Edward, on the other hand, knew the longer he sat in Mustang's car the harder it would be to go inside. He needed to rip it off like a bandage, and just accept whatever might possibly come.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Ed took a deep breath and opened the car door, stepping out into the night. The sun had fully set at this point, only vague whisps of orange and pink left to paint the sky.

It would have been gorgeous, had Edward not been expecting to walk into hell.

"Thanks for the ride I guess," Ed said bluntly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Sure," Mustang said with a coy grin. "Though I know I didn't give you much of a choice."

Ed shrugged at this and went to close the car door. As his hand gripped the cold metal of the door, Roy leaned over and stuck his arm out, motioning to Fullmetal's hand.

"Take this before you go," Roy insisted. "It's the number to my home phone, should you ever need anything. Don't hesitate to call."

Ed took the small slip carefully, disbelief and shock evident on his face. It was an amazingly kind gesture, one Ed would never have expected.

"I…I don't know what to say," he muttered truthfully. "I'm allowed to have this?"

"You don't have to say anything," Roy smiled. "Just know it's there if you ever need it. And yes…I'd like to think I'm free to give my number to whomever I choose," he added, like the smart-ass he was.

Ed nodded shakily and turned to walk inside before he got super emotional about anything. There'd already been enough tears today, hell, enough tears this week alone to cover him for the rest of his life. No need to add to it.

Ed knocked on the door hesitantly, listening as Mustang started the car back up again. A few seconds that felt like hours went by before the door was swung open, Alphonse standing to greet Edward.

Mustang's car drove away shortly after, Ed suspecting Roy was waiting to make sure someone was up to let him in.

"Hey Al," Ed said softly, refusing to meet the soul-fire eyes.

Al merely opened the door further and stepped aside, so that Ed could make his way in. Ed took the silence as Alphonse's anger, and knew it was likely he was still mad at him for leaving abruptly the other night without offering an explanation, even if it wasn't Ed's choice anyway.

Not that Al knew that.

Or needed to know that.

Al, on the other hand, dearly wanted to greet Edward with open arms and ask him if he was ok. Nevertheless, Ed had mentioned wanting space before he left, and Al didn't want to intrude on that.

Sure, he'd have liked some answers, but he could get those by really focusing and observing things from here on out. Besides, if he respected Ed's space and stopped pushing, maybe Ed would finally feel comfortable enough to come to him about whatever was going on.

…maybe.

Ed walked inside and turned to head up the stairs, pausing halfway to turn back and tell Al goodnight. Al, however, was already walking back to his room on the main floor, likely from where he came.

It hurt, the silence and unspoken words hurt almost more than anything Hohenheim could do to him. He was losing his brother; Ed was certain of it. The longer things between him and Hohenheim stayed the way they were, the more likely him and Al would stop talking to each other.

After all, Al was smart and knew Ed was keeping things from him. Ed knew this, and he also knew that the more things he kept from Alphonse, the thicker the wall between them would grow.

It was for the best.

At least he wouldn't continue to hurt Al any more than he already has.

Ed slipped his shoes and jacket off as he entered his room and took a seat on his bed. He figured Hohenheim would have heard him come in at this point, and likely would want to "talk" with him before he went to bed.

Hohenheim may not be predictable, but at least Ed was starting to catch on to the frail whisps of a pattern, for shortly after he sat down the heavy footsteps could be heard outside his door.

"I see you've decided to come back," Hohenheim sneered as he opened the door, not bothering to knock.

"Is that ok…sir?" Ed asked quietly, not wanting to stir up any trouble. He just wanted to go to bed. Be done with the day.

"Glad to see you're starting to learn your lesson," Hohenheim stated proudly, a sick smile making its way onto his face. "You've finally managed to tame that tongue of yours and speak politely."

Ed bit back any retort he wanted to say, nearly choking at the tension in the room.

"To answer your question, yes. You seem to have learned your lesson, so I have no problem with you returning home."

Hohenheim paced the room slowly, like a wolf circling a rabbit before going in for the kill.

"Unfortunately, you don't seem to have completed any of the chores you were supposed to get done today," Hohenheim said with mock-disappointment. "I know the day isn't completely over, but I'd like to be in bed soon and don't need you making a bunch of noise cleaning."

If Ed was nervous about the situation, he didn't show it. His face actually masking his terror for once as he sat obediently, hoping Hohenheim would just get it over with and leave.

"I'm afraid punishment is still in order, so I'll need you to turn around and close your eyes."

Edward stood from his bed and turned to face it. He was scared to close his eyes, uncertain of what Hohenheim would do, but he knew that whatever it was would be worse if he disobeyed the direct order.

It was stupid. He hadn't even been home, he'd been at work, and Hohenheim had kicked him out the night before.

Ed knew it was ridiculous. He knew Hohenheim was just making up reasons to punish him at this point, but he also knew it would be easier if he just shut his mouth, shut his eyes, and waited for everything to be done.

The darkness was fairly welcome, but it was nerve-wracking not knowing what to expect. Every hair on his skin was raised with fright as he attempted to steel himself.

The first blow came from the right, hitting him just under his ribs. It caught him off balance and he gasped as he stumbled before righting himself again.

The next came from behind, hitting him in the square of his back. This one burned as the solid fist made contact with the newly forming scabs.

"Someone's awfully quiet today," Hohenheim chuckled, a cold noise that only made Ed more ashamed of himself than he already was.

The shame brought down his guard, and the following blow hit the same spot as the first had, knocking the wind out of him.

Ed was quick to hold up a hand in surrender, hoping Hohenheim would at least have a shred of compassion to ease up while he caught his breath, before continuing.

Hope was nothing but a cruel wish.

Ed could feel the edges of his vision getting hazy as he wheezed with each hit, desperate to pull oxygen in but too panicked to catch his breath after being winded. This continued for a while, Ed biting his lip and squeezing his eyes closed so as not to make a sound other than his strangled gasps.

Each hit Ed hoped would be the last, his body aching and begging for him to lay down and be done. He could barely breathe, and his throat hurt from the effort it was taking. If this continued much longer, Ed thought he was going to pass out.

Throughout everything Hohenheim continued to remind Ed that this was "deserved" and "retribution" for everything he had done. If the physical hits didn't leave Ed gasping for breath, the mental anguish he felt was enough to keep him choking on his guilt and self-hatred.

The final blow was a sucker punch to the stomach that knocked Ed off his feet, leaving his mouth gaping for oxygen as white flashed in his eyes, causing the room to spin and blur together. His back seared with the harsh contact with the floor, nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

His ribs still felt intact, but damn did everything hurt.

Ed lay there for a while, unsure of what Hohenheim was going to do next. However, it seemed the punishment was over as Ed heard his door open and close with the sound of Hohenheim making his way back downstairs.

Ed opened his eyes once he could no longer hear the footsteps, and ragged breaths were soon the only sound in the room as Ed choked back tears. His body hurt, his heart hurt, his soul hurt.

He knew it was going to be bad, but he hadn't expected his return home to be quite this extreme.

He knew he deserved it, Hohenheim had hammered that point so far home Ed doubted he'd ever be able to think otherwise.

Though, even if the pain is believed to be deserved, it's still pain. Believing it's necessary doesn't change the fact that it hurts.

Downstairs Al flipped through a book on alchemical medicine aimlessly, not bothering to try and read it. His mind kept drifting to past conversations with Ed, to things Hohenheim had said, to looks he'd sent Ed's way, to the fact that him and his brother were once inseparable and now…now they were rarely not apart.

Al was glad he didn't have a physical heart for once, because he knew it would hurt even more than it did now.

He missed Ed, he missed his brother, and he still couldn't seem to figure out when it had all changed.

At first he thought it was when Ed lied about why he didn't go into work, but thinking back Al realized that their relationship started to get tense the moment they left for Resembool.

What had changed?

What had happened to cause such a dramatic shift?

Al knew it likely wasn't just one thing, but something had to be the catalyst for this rapidly degrading reaction. Al prayed it wasn't something he'd done.

Ed had already sacrificed so much for him, and Al didn't know how he would ever repay him. Ed had given up his childhood, his dreams, his time, his body to help Al. To protect Al.

And Al repaid him with the silent treatment.

Al sure didn't think he was doing a very good job at being a brother right now, but Ed had asked for space, and Al wanted to honor that.

Even if it hurt.

Even if it felt like it only pushed them farther apart.

The cold water of the shower was a soothing relief to Ed's sore muscles and aching back. Bruises had already started to form across his torso, and Ed didn't dare look at the scrapes that peppered his back.

Ed knew warm water would sooth the muscles even more and grant him longer-lasting relief to ease his sleep.

Yet warm water felt like a luxury he wasn't allowed, and he didn't want to waste something precious like that. Especially if it only upset Hohenheim further.

Ed stepped out of the water shivering, but content to dry himself off and change into clean clothes. His stomach scowled at him for forgetting dinner, but Ed didn't have it in him to try and wrestle open the ½ of the paper-wrapped sandwich still left in his jacket pocket.

Instead, Ed crawled over to bed and laid down, staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. His mind was quick to wander elsewhere, not granting him sleep but not keeping him present in the real world either.

Everything hurt, but he deserved this.

Al hated him, but he deserved this.

Hohenheim blamed him for Al, for Trisha, but he deserved this.

Mustang was giving him a job; that he didn't deserve.

Mustang gave him his personal number, which he also didn't deserve.

The military paid him for useless work and messed up jobs, another tally to the undeserving side of the list he was now making.

Al made Ed meals, which he never deserved.

Ed shook his head violently, knowing that if he kept at this, he could add to the list what seemed indefinitely, keeping him awake into the early hours of the morning. He didn't need that, even if some part of him thought he did.

Yet, if the amount of things in life Ed didn't deserve were so many, what was he doing?

Why was he alive, if he didn't deserve to live?

What was stopping him from leaving it all behind, from moving forward and ridding everyone of the pain he'd caused?

What value did his life even hold?

Why shouldn't he just end it?

Ed's eyes snapped into focus at the thought, and he bit his lip until he tasted iron to keep it from trembling.

He couldn't. He shouldn't do anything like that. Ed knew it was a drastic and foolish decision, one he couldn't allow himself to think of.

Partly because he knew it was the easy way out, and some sliver of him still wanted to maintain his integrity, his fiery soul.

Partly because it scared him.

It scared him how comforting the thoughts were, their sudden onslaught and the fact that Ed had never thought things like that before.

It had never seemed like an option, it always seemed terrifying and devastating. It would hurt people Ed cared about.

So why now?

Why now, was it weirdly comforting to think on, to hold onto in the back of his mind like a child holding onto a baby blanket from their earliest days.

Why now, was it more than just a whisper in his ear that floated in every so often but was easily brushed aside. Why was it now more of a burr, painful to remove but also painful to hold onto?

Ed pressed his palms to his eyes to try and block out the thoughts rushing through his head, but it was of little avail.

Ed could feel himself being torn in two, and while he knew he had to continue on and push forward, tackling each day on its own, he knew there was little left to hold the pieces together.

After all, what was he supposed to do when part of him was screaming at him to get out and get help, but the other part was screaming at him to give in, and give up.

What's he supposed to do, when death is starting to feel like the only option that would satisfy both parts of him.

What then?

A/N: Been a while, but I've still enjoyed working on this from time to time. I aim to finish it this summer, but I don't want to speak too soon and jinx any motivation I may have.

I wanted to thank you all for the continued support and words of kindness, I read through all of them and it's uplifting and motivating. I appreciate how patient you all are, and that you're still excited even when it takes me months to get things out.

Life has been, hectic. Rough. But here we are yeah?

As a heads up, this chapter starts to explore some of the more explicitly dark themes of this work. We're approaching rock bottom, and while I assure you Ed won't stay there it's still a hard way down. Just read with caution! Taking care of yourself is most important. If I follow the outline I have for the next chapter (fingers crossed lol), it's going to essentially be the climax of the story and I'm very excited.

Thank you again, and I hope you enjoy what I have for this one! As always, take care of yourselves 3