The smile Lucy had been trying to hide immediately dropped when Natsu and Happy left her room. She felt a certain weight lift off her shoulders when she realized she didn't have to put on a facade anymore. She hadn't spoken to Jellal much in the past week, but she was sure he was in the know enough to be able to tell when she was putting on a show.

Lucy was tired. Exhausted even. Both emotionally and physically, she was spent. Some days she didn't even have enough energy to finish a proper meal. Not that that was a big deal, considering how poor the hospital food was.

It was tiring, trying to act like everything was fine. She felt that people had expectations of her. They had seen how hard she worked the night of the rescue, and she somehow had managed to convince herself that they wanted her to continue doing better. More. Pushing herself past her capabilities.

Lucy knew everything wasn't fine. Nothing was fine and it wouldn't be for a long time, if ever at all. Some days she wasn't even sure she could get to a place where she didn't feel the sudden urge to be sick when looking at her reflection. She could see a girl staring back at her, but not one she knew. The girl on the other side of the glass was broken, beaten, and glued back together by force of will alone. She had vacant eyes and skin as thick as armour. Her name was Lucy, but that was all the identity she had at the moment.

Trying to explain that to anyone who cared to listen was almost impossible for Lucy. How could they understand? How could they know what she had been through if they hadn't been through it themselves? When the doctors came to ask questions Lucy got angry. Bitter. She felt exposed in a new light and she wanted to run and hide from all their prying as far away as she could. They wouldn't understand. They couldn't understand. It was Lucy against the world, and she had never felt more alone.

"Hello, Lucy," Jellal spoke up, turning away from the door where Natsu had exited moments ago to look at her. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was soft. Gentle. He was trying to put her at ease. "I know you've been through a lot recently, and even a week alone doesn't seem like nearly enough time, but I wanted to ask you a couple questions. If it makes you more comfortable I can ask for a female nurse to stay in the room with us."

Lucy flinched at that. Been through a lot. The words repeated in her head again and again until they twisted and jumbled and she couldn't understand them anymore. Was that how he wanted to reduce it all to? Been through a lot. That was the tip of the iceberg, in Lucy's mind. Of course she had been through a lot. She had been through more than she had ever thought she could handle. She had been through more of something that should never happen to anyone, more times than she could count. If that was considered been through a lot, then Lucy had been around the block a hundred times over.

She glanced between the two men standing near the entrance of the room. Jellal, tall with broad shoulders, had a composed expression on his face and an air of calm about him. Lucy got the impression he had worked previous cases like hers before, and was handling it professionally.

The other man, shorter by a few inches and a thinner, wiry frame, looked completely out of his element. He looked young, maybe early twenties, and the expression on his face exposed how out of depth he was with what was happening. He was looking at Lucy with pity in his eyes, watching her carefully like she was some kind of wild animal whose actions were unpredictable.

Lucy didn't like this man. She didn't like how he looked at her. She didn't like how he shifted from foot to foot uneasily. She didn't like how his fingers on his right hand twitched ever so slightly when they got close to his holstered gun. She knew instantly he was a trigger-happy newbie who probably thought his job would go easier if she was dead within the next five minutes.

"Why is he here?" Lucy asked, ignoring Jellal's words entirely to stare at the new guy. She met his eyes and she caught them widen just a fraction, his shoulders stiffening. She knew that look. That was the look of a man who was looking at something dead. Something broken.

Lucy didn't like the term broken. To be broken is to need to be fixed. Lucy didn't need to be fixed, Lucy needed to have the past few months of her life back and what had happened to not have had happen. Those things weren't fixable, not unless she had a wish from God or a magic wand. The girl on the other side of the mirror might be broken, but she fixed herself. She didn't need magic or wishes to do that, she needed to believe in herself.

Lucy wasn't broken. She was reborn. Maybe not in the way she would have liked, but she knew the girl from her past life was gone for now. She desperately wanted to be that person again, but until that point (if it ever came) she would have to accept who she was at the moment. She was a fighter, regardless of how tired or spent she was. She would claw her way out of the dirt and the bloody mountain that was her past and she would conquer it. Maybe not today, or tomorrow or even the next day, but she would do it.

She would survive.

"This is officer Jamison," Jellal gestured to the man, just a half hearted flick of his wrist to show how uninterested he was in the explanation. Lucy guessed he had either been here for a long time, or had a long day ahead of him, and the quicker it went by the better. That suited her just fine. "He's going to be taking notes while I ask you questions. Does that bother you?"

"He's...too fidgety," Lucy admitted, watching him carefully. Jamison glanced between her and Jellal awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

"Stop fidgeting, Jamison," Jellal ordered, frowning at the younger man. "If standing is too hard for you, go grab us a couple chairs."

"Y-yessir," Jamison fumbled, turning quickly to grab chairs from the back end of the room. He placed them a few feet away from Lucy, maintaining enough of a distance he thought would make her more comfortable. Or maybe, Lucy thought, it was for his own comfortability. Either way, she was fine with it.

The two men took their seats, Jamison scrambling for his pen and paper and opening up the small notebook to a fresh page. Jellal sat in silence for a moment, crossing one leg over the other as he glanced around the room nonchalantly. He looked unimpressed when he had finished, and Lucy couldn't blame him. The room was dull, boring, and she hated it.

"If these questions get to be a bit...much for you, let me know," Jellal began, turning to look at Lucy. His tone and expression was composed, and he sat comfortably, like he belonged there. Lucy wasn't quite sure what to make of his attitude, but mostly she felt annoyed. There was something grating about him that wormed its way under her skin. Was he haughty? Cocky? Rude? She couldn't tell. She couldn't read him, and that bothered her.

Jellal continued on, ignorant to her unasked questions. "We are aware that you girls happen to have a small case of amnesia, so we're unable to get full details from all of you, but we hope that with each answer we might be able to connect the dots. To do so, we require you to answer questions that might trigger painful memories. We won't take much of your time, but if you need a break or get overwhelmed, we'll stop. Are you ready?"

His voice sounded rehearsed. She wondered if he had said the same thing to all the other girls, or if it was a memorized speech from a different time she was unaware of. The lack of emotion in his tone fed into her annoyance, bridging the territory closer into anger. Was this really something to be so cavalier about? Was she the only one who cared about what she had been through?

"I'm ready," she said after a moment, trying to reign in the obvious irritation in her tone. Both men caught it, Jamison glancing at Jellal quickly, obviously nervous. Jellal didn't even blink, brushing off her tone instantly.

"Okay," Jellal nodded. "Let's begin."


Juvia stared at the Manila package on top of her desk. She had been looking at it for the past hour now, wishing it away with all of her energy. The stamped black letters that read the word CONFIDENTIAL in bold font ran across the front, staring back at her almost tauntingly. The package was thick, which meant more information that she would have to cram into her brain. It meant a new identity she had to impersonate. It meant a new mission.

She had been home a week, just long enough to write her report, clean her apartment, and read the last of the book she had left behind when she left for Hargeon months ago. A week to barely relax and catch her breath. She knew she should have enjoyed it more. She was kicking herself for taking more showers than long baths, and not eating the chocolate covered cookies she loved so much from the grocery store down the street from her apartment, and not lighting as many scented candles as she wanted.

Mostly she kicked herself for not being able to visit Lucy more than once. Their last visit only a few days beforehand was cut short by Lucy's withdrawals acting up, something Juvia should have seen coming but was too blinded to notice. Juvia knew it was probably for the best that she go on a mission and leave Lucy to the professionals, but secretly it made her heart hurt. She wanted to be there for her. She wanted to be a support.

Absently, Juvia wondered if the package and the mission itself would just go away if Juvia didn't open it. If she left it alone or passed it on to someone else, it wouldn't be her problem anymore. She knew that was childish, and more than likely wouldn't work, but still the thought pressed her mind.

"Where are you headed this time?" Gajeel asked when he noticed the package on her desk on his return from the kitchen to grab coffee. He sat on the corner of her desk, steaming mug in hand, and glanced down at her over the brim of his drink. He sounded intrigued, albeit a bit bored. After a certain amount of time, when a coworker got sent on a mission it just became routine and lost its lustre.

"I'm not sure," she shook her head slightly, a lock of hair falling from behind her ear into her face.

"You're not opening it?" He sounded surprised. She couldn't blame him, usually she was eager to open missions, hoping they contained the one she had been waiting years for. She usually opened packages like an eager child opening a package of trading cards, praying for the one she desperately wanted and disappointed when she got more of the same she already had. After seven years of disappointment, she wasn't sure how much more her heart could take.

"Who knows," she murmured, glaring down at the package, not even wanting to touch it to move it out of the way.

"Don't be such a baby," Gajeel sighed, placing his mug down on her desk and snatching up the package. She made a sound of protest, watching him in betrayal.

He waved her off with silent annoyance, his fingers tearing through the top of the package with ease. He pulled out the file, his eyes scanning the words quickly as a pierced eyebrow lifted. When he was finished reading, he scoffed and dropped the papers in front of her.

"Nothing exciting," he retrieved his mug, lifting it up to his mouth with lazy movements. His interest had plummeted, and so had hers, what little of it she had, anyway. "They want you to infiltrate some newbie gang outside of town. They don't belong to any of the Four Fathers; something independent. They're barely worth your time."

Juvia deflated instantly. She glared down at the pages in front of her, the top most page her new identity. Amelie Gotier. 25, dropped out of college for having an affair with her professor, past drug mule, had a part to play in one or two bank heists. Her life sounded much more exciting than Juvia's. Maybe Amelie would have been fun to take on for a bit, but the task seemed like a chore the more she thought about it.

"Do I look like an Amelie?" She asked, not bothering to look up at Gajeel.

"No," he said bluntly, reaching over to pat her shoulder with a heavy hand. "No you don't. Good luck though, I'm sure you'll be home in no time."

With that, he pushed off her desk and wandered away, mug in hand. Juvia said nothing as he left, and instead sighed and sat back in her chair, glaring at the package. With slow, heavy hands she reached for the papers and began reading. She knew she needed to get acquainted with her new self as fast as she could, as the instructions in the file said they wanted her gone by the next morning.


Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The hands of the analog clock at the end of Lucy's room clicked away, stealing her time and making it disappear before she could notice it. It was after 7 pm now, the sun almost finished setting outside her window splaying a myriad of reds, oranges and yellows across the floor of her room.

Jellal's voice had been calm. Slow. Understanding. He waited patiently for her to answer questions and double-checked every so often that Jamison was writing things down properly. Each question he asked became more detailed. What had she seen? What had she smelled? Who had she seen? Were there other girls? How long had she been there? Could she describe the routine? Could she describe the room she stayed in? What was Bora like? Did he touch her? Hit her? Rape her?

Each question felt like an arrow piercing her skin. The more he asked, the more she felt her self control wearing down. The armour she had carefully built up to protect her heart crumbled away and panic set in. She had done her best to answer the questions to the best of her knowledge (which, so far, hadn't been much). Eventually the weariness of it all began to set in, and Lucy found herself on the verge of a panic attack.

"Can you describe…"

"What was that like?"

"Did he…."

The questions were more in depth than she could remember, but eventually they all started to blur together. Panic started to set in, crashing against her body like angry waves as she wracked her brain for answers she didn't have. Her fingers began to tremble and her breaths quickened. When the room started to spin, Lucy thought she couldn't take anymore.

"What were your parents like?" Jellal asked, his voice melodic.

Lucy stopped. Everything stopped. The spinning, the heavy beat of her heart, the world. Everything paused and waited for her to answer. She stilled in her bed, staring unseeingly down at her lap at the pristine white sheets of her bed and searched her mind for answers that wouldn't come.

What were her parents like?

She didn't know. Was she supposed to know? Of course she was. Everyone knows what their parents are like. Why couldn't she remember something as simple as that? How could her brain forget something so important? She wanted to know the answer to the question. She wanted to know so desperately her nails dug into her palms until they bled and her temples hurt from her clenched jaw. It was a physically want—a need. An unequivocal desire that stemmed from the mind of a lonely lost girl who just wanted her parents in a world that she felt so utterly alone in.

"I don't know," she finally blurted out, a familiar sentence she must have said a hundred times within the hour.

"Okay," Jellal said, nodding. She was positive she heard disappointment in his tone.

Lucy snapped.

"What do you fucking want from me?" Lucy snarled, her hands beginning to shake again as thin trails of blood dripped down onto the sheets. "Are we not done yet? I don't want to do this anymore. I want to go home!"

Jellal was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. "Where is home?" He finally asked, waiting patiently for her answer.

"I don't know!" She shouted it at him, angrily. She paused then, staring past him at a vacant wall. "I don't know," she repeated, quietly this time.

The tears came before she could stop them. They rolled down her cheeks and off her chin and mixed in with the blood soaked sheets. It felt like a water dam had broken, since she couldn't stop the tears from falling. Endlessly they flowed out of her eyes, and eventually the sobs began to set in.

Lucy clutched the sides of her forehead, sobs turning into screams. Her breath quickened and quickened until it suddenly became too much to keep track of. She felt the panic rise and her throat grow so raw she thought it was being torn out of her body. The blood from her palms smeared onto her skin and in her hair but she didn't care. She wanted the world to stop. She wanted everything to stop.

She wanted her parents.

"I'll go get a nurse," Jamison said quickly, starting to rise from his chair.

"Wait," Jellal held out an arm to stop him, watching Lucy carefully. "Just leave her be for a moment."

Lucy screamed again but it died halfway through, the noise petering out into something tragic and garbled. She choked and sobbed and eventually her breath started to slow. Her fingers loosened against her skin, her body suddenly feeling weak from the sudden panic attack.

"Lucy, what were your parents like?" Jellal tried again, voice softer this time.

Lucy didn't know if God was looking down on her, or if the world was throwing her a bone, but at that moment she remembered something.


As a man who lived alone in a relatively small apartment, Gray didn't need to do a lot of shopping. He often got meals at the syndicate bar; the dishes there a hundred times better than he could have ever come up with himself. However, on a rare night like this one, Gray decided to treat himself by making his favourite meal.

It was his mothers recipe for risotto, a family recipe passed down for generations, or so he had been told. The secret ingredient was the sauce his family had created, and Gray had spent all of the night before making jars full of the best tomato sauce on the planet. It was a lot of work, but it was worth it for the end result. However, he hadn't realized what little bit of cheese he had left had expired months ago, and had travelled to the grocery store to buy some more.

It was a tiny super market just a few blocks from his apartment complex. Nothing fancy, but a small section of everything, which made it worth going to. Among the cheese he had picked up a few snacks and a DVD copy of one of his favourite movies that they had on sale in the bargain bin.

As he traveled the store on his way to the cash register, he caught sight of a familiar flash of blue hair. He stopped in his tracks, peeking around an aisle corner and eyed the figure of a woman standing in front of the milk aisle indecisively. When she picked the jug she had wanted and turned to go, Gray noticed it wasn't Juvia, like he had originally thought, and in fact was just some girl with the same colour hair. He turned away quickly before she caught him staring, and he inspected a box of frozen pizza like it was the most interesting thing on the planet until she walked past him.

He had realized then that he had spent the past few days thinking about Juvia more than he would have liked to admit. After he had walked her home a few days prior, she had been consuming his thoughts whenever he had down time. Really, he could chalk up their interaction as a drunk girl spilling secrets about her life, and it had left him so baffled he couldn't stop thinking about what she had told him that she was on his brain constantly, but he knew there was something more to it.

He thought of her then, wondering if she was sitting diligently at her desk and typing away at her computer. She had told him she spent most of her time doing that when she was back in Magnolia, and he wasn't surprised. He wondered if she wished she were away, like she had told him on the boat, or if she was already badgering Jellal for a job. Some part of his brain had told him if she left soon, he would like to say goodbye, even if it was quick and altogether immemorable.

He thought back to the few days before when he had helped her up the stairs to her apartment, her tiny frame so light against him he barely remembered the fact that she was a trained killer. She had felt so small next to him; her appearance was so deceiving.

He remembered helping her down the hall to her door, and waiting patiently for her to put the key in the door. She had gotten it on her fifth try, insistent on doing it herself and batting him away anytime he offered to do it for him. He remembered standing there, the door half open with a hand on her waist, waiting for whatever was going to happen next.

"Wanna know a secret?" She had asked, voice slurring and eyes half lidded.

"Sure," he had answered in amusement, waiting patiently for whatever drunken babble she was about to tell him.

She had taken a half step closer to him, her body pressed almost flush against him. He remembered the feeling of the heat of her body radiating against him, the space between them suddenly feeling constricting. He remembered her leaning up, so close their noses almost brushed, and then her lips right next to his ear. He remembered her voice, low and quiet, the breath hot on skin and her words making his hair stand on end.

"I used to be engaged," she said it calmly, almost half heartedly, like the statement wasn't something that was a big deal.

She fell back on the balls of her feet, looking at him like she was content with what she had just said. He stared at her in shock, unsure of what to do.

"You...were?" His voice had faltered on the question, the statement of what she had just said still being processed in his brain.

She nodded then, blue hair falling in her face after coming loose from her ear. In the dim lighting of the hallway, she looked smaller there. Vulnerable. She had just exposed herself to him, and it was slowly starting to set in that even though she was acting cavalier, it was a big deal to her. Gray wasn't sure what to say or do, his thoughts and feelings a torrent inside of him, torn between grateful she told him and worried about her.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out between you two," he had said, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Too caught up in the fact that he was taking care of her, Gray hadn't realized the liquor he had drank himself had caught up with him. He wasn't nearly as bad as she was, but he did have a bad habit of saying whatever was on his mind whenever he was tipsy. Unlike sober Gray, who kept his mouth shut and observed, tipsy Gray was loose lipped and paid no mind to future consequences.

Somehow, in the late of the night and the vacancy of the hallway, it had felt like time had stopped. Their conversation wouldn't affect the relationship they had in the outside world. They would continue to cross paths in a professional matter, knowing hardly anything about each other that would warrant an attachment. But for the moment, they could say and do whatever they wanted. This hallway was the threshold between their world and the outside world, one they hadn't quite crossed over yet. They still had time.

He looked at her then, in that moment. Her face was half covered in shadow, her hair slightly unkempt from a long day at work. She stood a full head smaller than him, her head tilted up to watch him with an obvious curiosity, lips slightly parted like she was about to say something. Her took her in like she was a painting at a museum, a work of art left up to interpretation. Beautiful and wild. Strong, but kind. She was something like a puzzle he hadn't quite worked out yet, and the closer he got the more complex she became.

Before he could realize he was moving, his hand came up and gently took the lock of hair that had fallen from her ear. He moved it between his fingers for a moment, admiring the softness, before he gently tucked it back behind her ear. His thumb brushed over her cheekbone then, barely touching her skin as if he was worried it would break.

"He's an idiot for losing you," the words came out of his mouth barely above a whisper, their low lidded eyes met and an unspoken tension between them. He took a half step closer to her, his hand still gentle against her face, his body electric and excited with the prospect of closing the distance. They were so close, just a simple bend of his back and he could have bridged the distance.

His head dipped down after a moment of hesitation, his hand taking a firmer grasp of her cheek, still gentle enough in its own right. His other hand came up to rest on her waist, and he pulled her close, just enough so that she was leaning into him. His head came down, breath held in anticipation as he neared her lips.

Just as he was about to kiss her, she turned away sharply. He got a nose full of her hair, and shock coursed through his body. He hesitated a moment, unsure of what had just happened. Did he miss? Had he read the signs wrong? He could have sworn he had seen the same desire he had in her eyes. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but deep down he disagreed with the thought.

"I'm sorry," she had said, voice strained from trying to keep composure. "I have to go."

"Right," he said into her hair, dropping his hands and stepping back.

She refused to look at him then, her cheeks aflame in the low light and her eyes glossy. Shame filled him then, the immediate want to comfort her filling him. He hadn't meant to make her upset. He hadn't meant to be selfish.

"I'm sorry," he said, meaning it. She looked at him then, confused. "I shouldn't have done that. I crossed a line."

She hesitated, a mixture of emotions flitting across her face so fast he couldn't quite catch them all. "It's fine," she shook her head eventually, putting on her protective mask so her expression was unreadable. He wished it was something physical so he could have ripped it off. He didn't want to see the fake Juvia, he wanted to see the real one. The one who existed in the threshold, the exposed version. "It's late, I should go. Thank you for walking me home."

He nodded then, the feeling almost robotic. They stared at each other for a moment, tension in the air and electricity in their bodies. There was something unspoken there, between them. Gray knew he wasn't imagining things, but he wasn't going to press his luck. Tonight was something of a failure, but maybe eventually he would gain a win. He would be patient, he would respect her boundaries, but there was a hesitation in her when she turned to go. He could feel it.

"Good night," he had said, quietly, a soft smile on his face.

"Good night," her voice was soft and the words hung in the air with a finality after she stepped into her apartment and closed the door.

When the memory ended, Gray was left feeling uncertain and confused. He had mulled over the time in the hallway over the past few days, thinking it over and over again just to make sure if he missed anything. Had he read the signs wrong? Had he just been selfish? Did he say something wrong? There was a lot he didn't know about Juvia, and a lot he wasn't sure he was ever going to find out.

He wasn't sure exactly when it hit him that he wanted to take the plunge and kiss her. He had never thought it was an option. Frankly, it probably wasn't an option, but he hadn't known that until he tried. Up until that point she was just a cop who he had put his differences aside with and worked together for a night. Up until then she was just a woman who he had shared an incredibly long car ride with. Up until then, she was a stranger who was interesting and complex, but all and all he didn't think anything more would come of it.

Something in the back of his mind told him his path would continue to cross with a Juvia for a long time. He wasn't sure if good or bad things would come of it, but somehow he knew he would see her again.

There was something changing in the air of Magnolia recently. He could feel it; something big was coming and with it, it brought change. Gray had the distinct feeling that there was unfinished business in town, and he was going to be seeing Juvia again very soon.

He didn't realize until much later how complicated things were going to become.


Lucy felt warm. Rays of sunshine were hitting her back, tanning her skin and heating her body to the core. She was standing in the middle of a huge stretch of grass, the sky blue and clear above her. It was summer, birds chirping and a general sense of freshness all around her.

She couldn't recognize where she was from just the grass around her. Somewhere secluded, she thought. Private. In one of her hands was a doll, hanging limply above the ground in her grasp, a vacant smile staring back up at her from the sewed face.

"Lucy," a woman's voice called to her. The voice was gentle, kind. Immediately, Lucy felt safe once she heard it.

She turned then, spinning on her heel and watching as a tall woman in a long white summer dress walked towards her, holding two glasses of lemonade in her hand. Her long blonde hair was piled high atop her head, and her brown eyes were full of a familiar warmth. She smiled at Lucy, her teeth dazzling and bright.

"Mama!" Lucy heard herself call, a grin stretching across her face from ear to ear. She took off running then, towards the woman she could only assume was her mother.

The woman bent down into the grass, opening her arms for Lucy to run into, hugging her carefully around the glasses in her hands. When they broke apart from each other, the woman handed Lucy a glass and smiled.

"You must be thirsty after playing all day," she said, watching Lucy happily drink the sour drink. "Did you have fun?"

"Yes!" Lucy heard herself exclaim excitedly, holding the large glass in a pair of tiny hands. She realized this must have been a childhood memory.

"I'm so glad," the woman smiled again, and rose to her full height. She held out her hand for Lucy to take, which she gratefully accepted. "Let's go have dinner with Papa, he's waiting at home for us."

"Okay!" Lucy cheered again, walking next to her mother across the field.

The memory ended, and Lucy returned to the present. Soft tears bounced off her cheeks, landing with a splatter against the sheets of her bed, which greedily absorbed them. The room was silent and cold, nothing like the warm expanse of her memory. She was suddenly forced back into reality, the thought sickening her.

"Lucy?" Jellal's voice was soft still, gently probing. He watched her expectantly, like he knew what had just happened.

"My mother is kind," Lucy said, lifting her eyes to meet his. She met him confidently, determination filling her.

Her mother was kind, and beautiful, and warm. Her mother was out there, somewhere, and Lucy would make it back to her. After that memory, Lucy knew she had the capabilities of becoming her old self again. She would go back to her mother and start her life over.

For the first time in a long time, Lucy felt hopeful. She could take what life threw at her, and rise above it. She was going to get her memory back and go home.

She had found her purpose.


A/n: hey everyone! Long time no see! I'm about to jet off to work rn so this will be super short! I had written a scene with Juvia and gray that was very similar to the one in this chapter and changed it cause I didn't like it and was surprised when I wrote the one here. Oh well. I hope the gruvia fans liked it tho! (Don't worry nalu fans, your time is coming I promise)

i happened to put this on AO3 under the name countingcrows so if anyone sees on there and is confused, uh, yeah that's me. I'll update it at some point.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Y'all are incredible ! I will be personally messaging all the people I can tonight after work. I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's still filler but we're getting closer to the plot at this point. I gotta go but see you soon!