A/N: IF I GO CRAZY, THEN WILL YOU STILL CALL ME SUPERMAN? IF I'M ALIVE, THEN WILL YOU BE THERE, HOLDING MY HAND--

Sorry. Those lyrics just had to go somewhere in here. Anyway, holy crap. We're here. Last chapter... of the story. Of part one, per se. Yeah, haha. Not. Over. Yet. The first thing I have to announce is that zeromotion is doing a doujinshi that continues the story after this chapter. Hell to the yeah, am I right? So this isn't really ending. It's just where I stopped writing for the time being. Although, I am very fond of how this ends, and I hope you will be, too.

I'm glad you all liked the last chapter... at least I hope you all did. I hope I didn't scare anyone away with the sex, because originally the whole sexual thing was supposed to be implied in the summary, but it didn't fit the way I wanted to, so maybe some of you were surprised? I guess.

This was so much longer in my head, because I had so much to say. But it's 4:20 AM (hehe) and I should be finishing my homework, so I'm a little blocked. But what I know that I've always wanted to say is that I want to thank you all SO FUCKING MUCH YOU DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND for reading this far and faving and alerting and reviewing. ESPECIALLY reviewing. This whole Stolovan Spectrum has been an insane ride for me, what with all the attention I was getting and random praise and ego fluffing. You guys have like, made my life, and I wish to all thank you personally. I feel like I'm kinda close to you all because, even if I have never spoken or replied to you, I always recognize your names and stuff and it's just great. I love it, I love it, I love it.

Also! The link to the official playlist for this fic is on my profile, public on YouTube. I'm glad so many of you like The Who, but there are a bunch of other songs that go unmentioned as to what they're called and who they're by, only because Clyde himself doesn't know. So, that playlist should help you know what they're hearing and what inspired me. And of course, with that comes the link to the continuation doujinshi on SmackJeeves.

So, even though this may seem like the end, it's not. And don't even get worried when zero's comic is finished - there's still the epilogue, in prose and told from the point of view of none other than Kevin Stoley himself. Come to think of it, the Stolovan Project still has a long way to go. I'm gonna be cheesy and say this isn't the end. It's really a beginning. This has already spawned plenty of Stolovan fanart, so perhaps more fics will come of it, too. I just want you to stay on the ride with me.

Anyway. I have to shut up and let you read this. Please enjoy, and thanks so much. For everything.

A/N Still: HAHA JUST KIDDING. YOU THOUGHT I'D LEAVE YOU HANGING WITHOUT GIVING YOU THE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE LAST CHAPTER? WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?

"Wèishéme wo cónglái... méiyou yìshí dào... wo shì duōme ài ni?": "Why did I never realize how much I actually love you?" (Something along the lines of that. :|)
"Ni shì wánměi de.": "You are perfect."
"Ni shì wo de.": "You are mine."
"Ni shì wo de, ni bù wàngjì tā.": "You are mine and don't you forget it."
"Qing bùyào kū, qīnài de.": "Please don't cry, dear." (or darling... 'qinai de' is dear or darling or something, I guess.)
"Tā mā de!": "Damn!" (I intended for him to say "fuck!" but it translated to "damn" so whatever.)
"Kè lái dé, zhiyào ni zhīdào.": "Clyde, as long as you know..."

I was actually really embarrassed to post the translations because any of you who speak Chinese can point out what's totally wrong or what sounds weird. BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT. THE POINT IS THE EVERYTHING SOUNDS BETTER IN A DIFFERENT LANGUAGE. COOL? COOL.

Okay, I'm seriously, now. Enjoy, please, and I thank you, and I hope to see you 'til the end of the ride.

XV. Relationspaceship

I woke up next to him.

My eyes felt pasty. Wet, tired. I hardly slept. I only think I passed out for less than an hour. I tried to open them, but they barely budged.

The lights were out. At least the overhead light was - the light sabers were still glowing. I couldn't tell if the extra light was from the rising sun or even more light sabers that I didn't know about. I also heard something scratching. Something against a paper. I tried to budge my eyes open even more, and when I finally caught sight of something besides the glow of the light sabers, I saw Kevin's bare feet. I looked up, and saw him, kind of blurred. He was drawing.

He looked down at me. "Oh, you're awake," he said. He set his sketchbook aside, face down. He kissed me. What are we, married?

Oh. I remember now.

"Morning...?" I said.

"It's five in the morning," Kevin told me. "You should go back to sleep."

"What...?" I could barely speak. I probably should have gone back to sleep. "I-It's five... geh." I fell backward onto the pillow. My mind still dysfunctional, I bluntly asked, "Did we have sex last night?" Just in case, you know, we didn't. Which would have been even scarier, for me to be asking him that question if we didn't even have sex in the first place.

Kevin nodded. Oh, so, we did. I think he was worried I didn't remember. I mean, he had put boxers on me, and I could tell they were his because they were really, really tight. He was wearing a new pair of boxers, too. They had the Legend of Zelda triforce on them. Mine had a bunch of planets and stars on them. Kevin seemed to own a lot of cool pairs of boxers.

"Oh," I was like. I yawned. I was trying to remember what happened, exactly, and why - and it wasn't that I had any alcohol. I wasn't hungover. Hell, I don't know what it feels like to be hungover. I generally didn't remember much when I woke up. That was my excuse for myself, at least. "That's why my butt hurts," I said.

"I'm sorry," said Kevin.

Did he really have anything to be sorry about? I mean, maybe I'd walk funny for a few days. But why did I even have sex with him in the first place? It was all coming back to me, the way if felt, the pleasure, and the pain, and the bits of blood. I could see it on the striped sheets. I didn't remember why.

There was the Gelgamek war. I remembered that. He healed my wound, and he sealed it with a kiss of victory. And that's how it came to this.

Why did he have sex with me? Who would even want to? Kevin, with his straight, neat black hair and slender body, cute eyes, well-shaped face, having sex with me, slightly overweight, absent-minded, brown-as-crap-haired kid? I had no idea what was going on, and the thoughts infuriated me. Whatever that means.

I started to yell. "Were you just horny? Did you just use me to satisfy your fantasies? I thought sex was supposed to be, you know, special, with someone you truly love, not someone who you think is, like, just your little stupid action figure that you can just pose into any scene you want!" It all came out so quickly.

Kevin was seriously taken aback by this. He narrowed his eyes at me and said, "Don't you think I used you. I didn't use you. I really like you, Clyde, I really, really like you, and I don't want you to think that I think you're stupid or anything. You're not stupid. I really like you, and I thought that we could just call this an experiment of sorts. I know it sounds lame, and that excuse probably isn't going to work for you, but I can't explain myself. If you think the experiment was a failure, feel free to part ways with me. But I will continue to really, really like you, and if you don't feel the same way, fine. Experiment failed. Mission aborted. Game over."

I could feel my eyes start to burn. Damn you, Kevin Stoley. Damn you, and the way you talk, the way you play air guitar, and the way you kick Gelgamek ass, and the way you dance, and the way you drink diet Pepsi, and the way you know Guitar Hero combos, and the way you look, and the way you draw, and the way you sing. Damn everything about you, Kevin Stoley. "...Goddammit," I choked.

Kevin tried to pull me in for a hug, or a kiss, or something, but I pushed him away. "Don't cry," he said. "Please don't. I don't like seeing you cry. Qing bùyào kū, qīnài de."

"I'm not - I'm not crying. I just, just... I just want to know where this... relation... spaceship... I just want to know where this relationspaceship is headed. Is it falling? Or is it headed to a galaxy far, far away, to the stars, or infinity and beyond?"

"It's on autopilot. It goes where it needs to go," he said. He kissed me, and I let him. "You should go back to sleep, qīnài de." He stroked my hair and I sunk down into the pillow. I wasn't ready to go back to sleep. I was too awake now, with too many thoughts going through my head. I couldn't even...

"But, Clyde," Kevin said. "I've been wondering something."

My eyes were already closed. "What?"

"What... were you looking for in the comic store, anyway?"

I opened my eyes a bit. I could have told him I had been searching for the Superman belt buckle, but I seemed so surprised when I found it. He'd call bullshit easily. "I don't want to tell you."

"Tell me!" Kevin said.

"Noooo," I said, shutting my eyes again.

"Come on!" Kevin shook me jokingly. "Tell me what you were looking for, you must."

I opened my eyes. That tricky bastard is getting me again. I sat up. "Alright, Darth Vader."

"That's Yoda."

"I knew that," I said. Kevin rolled his eyes. "Promise me you won't laugh."

"I won't!" he assured, his hands in the air.

"Okay. Okay." I breathed out. "Taco-Man and Burrito-Boy," I admitted. Please don't laugh, Kevin, please, please, please.

"Taco-Man and Burrito-Boy?" Kevin blinked. He laughed. Goddammit! "Dude!"

"I told you not to laugh!"

"But...!" Kevin covered his mouth. He was trying to keep it in, I know it. "I love that comic!"

I could see it now. 'Do you, Clyde Donovan, take Kevin Stoley, as your lawfully wedded husband?' I smiled to myself. Then I hugged Kevin. "You do?!" I said happily. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"You never asked!" Kevin said, patting my back. "I have every issue, dude."

"You do!?" Holy shit, I love this guy. I really, really do. "Where are they?!"

"In my closet," said Kevin. I let go of him, and he left the spaceship. I peeked my head over the edge and watched Kevin open his closet. He had a really cute butt. He was bending over, and I could see inside his closet. There were absolutely no clothes in that closet. Only shelves and shelves and boxes of more boxes with comics. Comics, comics, comics! Yes!

He did that little, "Ah-ha! Found it!" thing that he does, and brought out this huge box of comics. They were all in their plastic covers. Mint condish, mmm. He dropped the box into the spaceship and it made a heavy noise. Kevin hopped on in, too, and began to hand me issues.

"You can keep, like, half of these, if you want," he said. "I've read most of them."

"Really?!" I cried excitedly. It was like, the happiest moment of my life. "Look at how many special editions you have—oh, my god."

He had the rarest... most prized... most epic... crossover issue of all time. Promo cover, mint condition - it looked as though it was never opened.

The Adventures of Taco-Man and the Robo-Inferno.

"I cannot believe you have this!" I cried. I opened it, flipped through the pages, and holy shit, it was so... the art was unf, the colors were like unf... everything about it, I was like, about to have a heart attack from. It would be like, "Oh, Clyde died? How?" And then it would be all, "Oh, Kevin had The Adventures of Taco-Man and the Robo-Inferno, so he had a heart attack from its awesomeness." But then it'd be like, "Wait, never mind, Clyde's alive!" Because Kevin would have restarted my heart, anyway.

"Yeah, my dad got it from a con last year," said Kevin. "You can have it."

"You'd give it up to me that easily?"

"Sure, totally," he said. "I'm cool with it."

I started to flip through it, while Kevin was looking through other issues. It was so epic. In the beginning, Taco-Man runs into Robo-Inferno by accident. And Robo-Inferno isn't so excited by this - Robo-Inferno respected Taco-Man at one point, but over time, he grew to dislike him. Taco-Man felt the same way. Then, the king of planet Discopolis, the planet where Robo-Inferno is from (it looks like a giant disco ball) told him that he needed to team up with Taco-Man in order to save their portion of the galaxy, so Robo-Inferno and Taco-Man end up spending more time with each other, learning each other's strengths and weaknesses. Taco-Man learns of Robo-Inferno's difficult childhood life. Being part-human and part-robot, he had been neglected by both races, and so he went to mope, basically, on the planet Lavasein, a red planet littered with active volcanoes. It was there that he developed his most powerful of powers: the ability to withstand temperatures hotter than the sun itself, and the power to shoot magma from his hands. The lava on the planet was radioactive - the planet's existence didn't last for long. After many years, the planet imploded and Robo-Inferno was blasted off to the planet Discopolis, where they accepted him for his red hot dance moves. Taco-Man learns that his asskicking dance moves and voice can drive away villains from sheer amazement, as well as his wit and intelligence, so he can work with gadgets. Robo-Inferno learns that even though Taco-Man can be little lazy and careless, after losing his self-esteem when he found out the food critic list was a fake, he can still save the day without even realizing it. This comes as an epiphany when Taco-Man tells him of the time that he saved the president of the United States when he happened to accidentally knock down a water tower over a burning building with his superhuman strength. So, when Robo-Inferno and Taco-Man embark on their journey of epic proportions, they easily win the war, however, Taco-Man has been shot in the stomach and Robo-Inferno brings him back to the ship, where he nurtures the wound and finds that Taco-Man isn't all that bad. They both fought for justice, and also fought for friendship.

Hey, wait a minute.

"Kevin," I said.

"What?" He looked up.

"This story is..." I started. Um. "It's... dude, just read it." Kevin took the comic from me and began to skim. "No, dude, seriously read it," I said.

And he was reading. I just sat there, watching him read for a while - he skipped a few pages, but he finally got it. "Shit," he said.

"I know, right?" I said. "It's crazy."

Kevin smirked. "We're cooler, though," he said. "And Taco-Man and Robo-Inferno didn't have sex in the end."

"They should have." I crossed my arms and caught glimpse of the bloodstain on the sheets. I looked away. "It would have made much more sense."

"You think so?" he said. "Oh, and I'm not part-robot."

"How can I be so sure?" I said. I inched closer to him. We sat face-to-face, Indian style.

"Most of Robo-Inferno's face is made of steel," he said. "Mine isn't."

"Oh, really!" I exclaimed. I got even closer. "Prove it."

And then he kissed me. I held his face in my hands and it was soft - most definitely not made of steel. I think I believed him then. I separated from him, and said, "And I don't have meat vision."

"How can I be so sure?" He smiled, showing off those super nice teeth of his. "Look me in the eyes and don't turn me into a hot dog." I nodded in agreement. We stayed face to face, but did no kissing, only eye contact. He didn't blink. I didn't blink. And a little part of me thought that maybe, just maybe, if I thought about it hard enough, I could turn Kevin into a hot dog. But then I wouldn't like that because I would be very compelled to eat him and then that would be the end of Kevin Stoley. I didn't really want that. I shut my eyes.

"Ha! I win!" Kevin raised his arms in victory.

"You didn't even say it was a staring contest!"

"But you knew it was," he said. "We totally were having a staring contest just there, and you lost, so ha. Hahaha."

"I can't have staring contests at five in the morning!"

"No excuses! You lost!" He poked my tummy jokingly, and I giggled. God, I swear, I'm not ticklish, okay? Don't tell Kevin.

"Psh." I crossed my arms across my chest. Still kind of shirtless, I hoped I didn't look too retarded. "Well, just to make sure we're not keeping any other secrets, you have to prove to me that you can't withstand temperatures higher than the sun." I got on my hands and knees. "You couldn't withstand it if I happened to cover you in hot sauce. Really, really hot sauce... would you?"

"We could test that theory," said Kevin. "But!" He lifted one finger, matter-of-factly, like he was about to explain something. Or introduce an idea. That's what Kevin does. "There is one thing that I have that Robo-Inferno does not have."

"And what is that?"

"Oh, you don't know?" Kevin raised his eyebrows in what seemed to be actual confusion. Which was weird, but I was practically obligated to play along - not that I didn't want to. "What I have, and he doesn't? Goodness, Clyde, it's easy."

"It is?" I said.

"Yes!" Kevin lifted his finger again, but this time, it was the other one. "A heart, of course." He grabbed my head in both his hands and forced my ear against his chest. "Listen," he said. And I could hear it beat. Bah-bum. Bah-bum. Bah-bum. That's an onomatopoeia. I learned that from Kevin's boxers. Bah-bum. Bah-bum. "Not titanium, not iron, not artificial. It's an authentic heart. Mint condition, too." He kept my head against his chest, and I kept my eyes shut. I could hear it beat, louder than anything that could have possibly been making noise in the room. The volume on the record player was low, I could barely make out the song - and Kevin's voice was growing farther away. Bah-bum. Bah-bum.

I woke up next to him again. I didn't normally have problems with sleeping. As far as I knew, it was the same day. Or night. I didn't know what time it was. And I didn't really care. It was probably the whole sleeping-in-a-cardboard-box thing that was giving me trouble with sleep. Or maybe it was the music from the record player that woke me up. I don't know at which point when I was asleep that Kevin turned up the volume or changed the record. He can probably do it in his sleep.

He was next to me, and he was out like a light. All the light sabers were off. The sun was still not totally up yet, but there was some rays peeking through the window. It definitely felt like a morning.

I looked at him, cuddled up against the striped pillow. His eyelashes were long, and his hair, for once, was disheveled, whatever that means. His right hand clutched the pillow case, and his other hand was lying on his sketchbook.

The music from the record player oozed out something kinda slow, like it always did. A lot of people say that a vinyl record player has better sound quality than any boombox or MP3 player or CD player - but a lot of other people say it was just because the music itself is better.

("See me. Feel me.")

I eyed the sketchbook under Kevin's hand. It was small, sort of travel-sized, I guess. I didn't want to wake him, so I carefully, really damn carefully tried to pull the book from him. I got it pretty easily, and Kevin didn't move. I turned on a green light saber, so I could see what was inside. I really shouldn't have been snooping through Kevin's stuff, but I figured I had done enough of that for a while, so I didn't quite see what could have been so bad in just flipping through a little pad.

("Touch me. Heal me.")

There were lots of unfinished sketches of just characters - faces, eyes, muscles. I think he really knew what he was doing. Some of them were cleaned up, but not really all of them. One of them, that seemed to be more complete than the rest of them, looked really... I don't... know. The page after it was blank, and the pencil wasn't really very smudged. It was new. It was a super clear picture, really super and well-drawn, because, well, I could tell it was me. Sleeping.

("See me. Feel me.")

I put down the book. I smiled at the picture - it made me look a lot better looking than I probably actually was. It made me seem almost beautiful. I liked that, how Kevin's art could be prettier than the actual reality.

Then, I turned the light saber off. I looked at Kevin. Still fast asleep, looking more beautiful in reality than he ever could in an artist's depiction... if only I even knew what that meant. "It's a really great drawing," I said to him. "I would have, you know, liked to see it from you, yourself... I shouldn't have been snooping, anyway." I stopped. He didn't move. "And I kinda, ah, wanted to say thank you. You know. Thank you... for you. You... you look really nice, kind of. Sleeping like that." I stopped again. Uch, it was hard, talking to someone who wasn't conscious. "If I could draw you, I would," I said.

("Touch me. Heal me.")

"And even though it kind of hurt..." I went on, "I still liked it. Because, well... no one else has really wanted to do that with me before. It was kind of nice... you know. And it, it, well, it wasn't just because you wanted... me. I just... I did realize before, you know... how... you looked, and..." I trailed off. It was seriously hard, without him looking me in the eyes, and I was kind of just admiring his eyelashes. "That's not the point. It's not about how you looked, right? Because... I have never met a guy... or a girl... or a, a person... you know, really, kind of like you... so... yeah."

("See me. Feel me.")

"I really... like, lov—" Wait, no. "I really... lo—" That wasn't right. "I lo—" What was the word? I was completely forgetting it. "....the way you talk, the way you play air guitar, and the way you kick Gelgamek ass, and the way you dance, and the way you drink diet Pepsi, and the way you know Guitar Hero combos, and the way you look, and the way you draw, and the way you sing... it's like... I don't know."

("Touch me. Heal me.")

"Maybe... maybe it's early. Maybe. It's like... you know... hello. How are you." My voice began to crack, and get quieter. I leaned on one arm and lied almost face-to-face with him. "Nice to meet you. Maybe we should get to know each other..." I touched his hair. It was soft. Why was everything about him so soft? Damn you, Kevin Stoley. And damn everything about you. "I also... also wish that... I could know what you were saying to me earlier... in Chinese... you know?" I lied on my back all the way. I turned my head to try and look at him. It was still dark. But the sun was rising. "And I think that... maybe..." Don't cry, Clyde. "I should do that thing. I don't know what the word is. It's a really easy word." I almost-laughed. "It completely phases me right now. But you know what I mean... right?" Pause. "I'm sure you know what I mean. You get me, right? Like, maybe, you know, I should love you..." Pause. "That's the word, isn't it? I... I hope it doesn't sound any less romantic in, you know, English... I'm not really good at this sort of thing." The sunlight through the window grew brighter, very gradually. "And I'm sure you know that. I'm sure you're okay with that. And I think I should love you, but... how I feel about you right now, it's just... there aren't... any words." And I stopped.

"Clyde," he said. "I can hear every word you're saying."

My eyes were already closed. "I knew that."

Listening to you, I get the music
Gazing at you, I get the heat
Following you, I climb the mountain
I get excitement at your feet
Right behind you, I see the millions
On you, I see the glory
From you, I get opinions
From you, I get the story.
--See Me, Feel Me by The Who