THEY WERE CLOSING IN ON THEM. She didn't like it all that much, the constant updates, having to hear it as the main topic of conversation wherever she went, it was difficult. But she understood why it happened, but that didn't make it any easier for her to sleep, constantly feeling as though someone were right outside her door. She had yet to start dreaming, but she still had the irrational fear of going to sleep that came with fear, and that was what led her to Bruce's room.

"Bruce?" she called, knocking on the door, shivering as she stood in the empty hallway, so vulnerable and easily spotted, it made her arms prickle with goosebumps.

The door opened not too long after to reveal a confused and tired looking Bruce who seemed surprised to see her, rubbing the back of his head as he looked down both ends of the hall, as if expecting to see someone else who could explain.

"Hey, Marn, what's going on, you okay?" he asked, reaching out and usher her inside, taking one last look down the two ends of the hall before closing the door behind them.

"I can't sleep," she said, climbing onto his bed and onto the covers, looking up at him, and he tried to see through his sleep, nodding as he climbed onto the bed as well.

"And you wanna sleep here," he finished, sighing as he settled back under his covers, motioning for her to go under as well, as he couldn't pull the blanket all the way out.

She happily burrowed under, pressing herself right up against his side, screwing her eyes shut as she clung onto him, and she could tell Bruce was surprised considering he didn't move for a few moments, his hands just hovering in mid-air.

"I can feel them just outside my door," she whispered, and he sighed, understanding perfectly.

"They can't get to you anymore," he promised, reaching out to wrap his arms around her, holding her close, already falling asleep, "Everything's going to be just fine, Marnie. Just go to sleep."

She hummed, pressing herself as close to him as possible, trying to wrap herself up in the blankets, and Bruce just held her closer, because he knew what she was trying to get away from, and he of all people knew how hard it was to run from a monster she couldn't very well see until it had full control over her.

He struggled to stay awake until she fell asleep, holding her as close as possible, and the moment her breathing evened and her body relaxed, he was out like a light.

º º º

When she woke, Bruce was gone and she had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Standing, she changed out of her sweater and into one of Bruce's, padding out of the room and upstairs, shivering as she glanced behind her every few steps, feeling as though someone was watching her.

By the time she reached the dining area, everyone was already gathered around the table, staring down at the papers strewn about. Steve had told her that it wasn't commonly where they debriefed when it came to missions, but since she had yet to have the full tour of the Tower, they all decided it was best they convene in an area that she was used to so she could find them.

When she arrived, everyone looked up, serious, but then she noticed their expressions shift, just momentarily, to shock.

Then Clint shouted. "I knew it! Pay up, Stark, I told you!"

"There's no way it actually happened, Barton, and you know it!" Tony shouted back, pointing a finger towards the taller, cheering blond who was seeking high fives from everyone at the table, punching Bruce's shoulder lightly.

"Whatever it is you bet on, it's not what it looks like," the oldest man sighed, shaking his head as he motioned for her to stand next to him, and she did so easily, if not without confusion, and she wrapped her arms around him as she shivered, though not from the cold.

Tony and Clint shared a look before nodding towards the other. "Half."

"Can we please focus?" Steve interrupted, and she had to admit she was rather surprised, Steve never spoke like that usually, and especially not to her, and she watched his expression melt away to one of guilt.

"Sorry, that was—I mean, you understand why I—Marnie, I'm not usually like this, it's different, it's—" Steve stammered, clearly unsure of how to explain to her that when he was Captain America he had to be fully focused and that meant being a lot more rigid than Steve Rogers who was much more willing to bend rules to achieve goals.

"No hard feelings, Cap," Clint said, Tony nodding along next to him, and the man sighed with relief, clearing his throat before continuing on.

Marnie looked down at the papers in front of them, raising her eyebrows when she saw not only a scaled down layout of the entire tower, but also case files on individuals that she didn't recognize, yet felt a certain inclination towards. A kind of sick feeling in her stomach that she couldn't get rid of, the kind that made her skin crawl.

"The time limit you told us regarding our assassination is up," Steve finally clarified, turning to address her, "Which means they're going to do something about it, and we need to be ready once they do."

"I'm not fighting," she announced, more of a statement than a request, and she didn't so much as flinch when everyone immediately turned to look at her.

Steve glanced around towards his teammates before licking his lips, searching for the right words. "Marnie, no one is going to make you fight, but you know how powerful these people are, we're closing in, they're going to get desperate, we want to keep you safe. We know you don't want to hurt people, but it's important that you're still willing and capable to defend yourself if able."

She didn't respond at first, just staring at him, because she didn't want to. She didn't want to have to do anything of the sort, she didn't even know if she could, but she had to admit that it made sense. She knew, logically, that not being a burden should they be attacked was the best course of action, but she didn't want to have to test to make sure she would be fine.

But if they had to worry about her, she could lose them all, and she would much rather fight than have nothing left. She couldn't lose them, not when she was just finally given something of her own to have.

"What will I have to do?" she asked, because there wasn't anything else that she could ask except that.

Steve just stared at the tower layout for a few moments, clearly thinking, and everyone else seemed more than happy to wait for him, though it hardly took more than two minutes before he was able to garner some sort of response.

"Just stay close and train. We need to be prepared for anything, and that means, unfortunately, that we're allowing them to come to us. So we need to make sure we don't lose," Steve said, and she narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out exactly what he meant, but it didn't take long for her to piece everything together.

"They're coming today, aren't they?" she asked, and Steve sighed, looking towards the others who looked just as concerned.

"We don't know for sure, but Tony and Bruce did some calculating, and it wouldn't be a stretch," the man explained, and she had a feeling that he had done some calculating on his own, "JARVIS is set to warn us if anything should happen, but we're counting on them striking either later today or tomorrow."

She could feel her stomach churning and her grip tightened on the chair that she was standing by as she looked towards the others who seemed much too prepared to be ambushed at any moment. Just months earlier, she would have been more than prepared. She might have even been the one to do the ambushing.

But now, she just wanted things to be over. She didn't want to find them, she didn't want to be found. She just wanted to stay with them in the Tower, but that wasn't an option. It had been made very clear that it wasn't an option, much to the chagrin of the the others. After all, when they were constantly on the defensive, there wasn't any opportunity to breathe.

Once this was over, they would be allowed to breathe.

"Do we have to go to the training room?" she asked, because out of all the places she was allowed to go in throughout the tower, she made a conscious effort to stay as far away from the room as physically possible.

"No, we're not leaving the penthouse floor," Steve said, looking towards Tony who nodded, "We're going to camp up on the top floor and wait."

"I'll teach you how to shoot," Natasha said, catching her attention, and despite not having been under the control of her masters for months, she still made a face.

"I will be fine without, thank you," she said, and when everyone shared a look, clearly not liking her response, she added, "I will use another weapon if you insist, but I refuse to use a gun. I didn't need one before, I do not need one now."

Everyone immediately turned towards Bruce, trying to get the man to disagree, but he could only shrug. "She's made it this far without needing a gun, I don't see how teaching her would make much of a difference."

"The difference between her living and dying," Natasha pointed out, and Bruce pursed his lips, thinking about some way to disagree.

"We never used guns," she ventured, because she couldn't remember if she had told them as much or not, "We have no guns, so unless they decided to break their own rule, they won't come with guns."

"Good for us, then," Tony said, looking over towards Steve who could only shrug, already coming up with more than a few weapons that were more powerful than even a gun.

"No, not necessarily," she said, because while she was better at reading the room, she wasn't perfect.

Arabella, who had been silent next to Clint for most of the time, just going over the plans, raised her head. "You're going to need to arm yourself with something, what will it be? If you can remember anything about what they're going to come at us with, it'll be much easier for us to take them down."

She just stared at her, trying to think. She only ever used knives and other weapons provided, as there were many strewn about against a wall, though they were seldom touched by her. She was trained to focus mainly on her physicality, being able to disarm any individual without the use of weapons unless absolutely necessary.

"I wasn't told of everything," she said, because considering she was sent on a suicide mission, it was clear she wasn't, "But I do believe that they will come in large numbers rather than with any technology. Though, they could come in large numbers with advanced technology, as they do expect to kill you all."

The way she said it was much too numb for anyone's liking, including her own, as it was incredibly similar to her person from months prior, but either way, her words held more truth than they would have cared to hear, but it was necessary all the same.

"We took down aliens, we can handle this," Tony said, and the others all turned towards him, the man struggling not to falter, wearing his self-assured smirk that she had seen on him enough times to understand was only somewhat genuine, if genuine at all.

But whether or not they bought his bravado was irrelevant. Whatever their perception, Tony's attitude was enough to put them in relative ease, at least enough to give them the hope that it wouldn't be for naught, reminding them of the situation that brought them to this moment in the first place.

"Bruce, what are you going to do?" Arabella asked, looking towards the man who seemed to be lost in thought, also thinking about the repercussions of what had happened just months prior.

"He fit in the penthouse last time," Clint said, and Tony nodded along with him, because he had been the one to see.

"Should we ask Fury to send backup?" Steve asked, looking towards Natasha who didn't seem too keen on the concept.

"The less people we have, the more casualties we'll be preventing," Natasha reasoned, and Steve nodded in agreement, sighing as he stood to full height, stretching and popping his back.

She could only look on as they all started to pack up, figuring that the only thing left to do was to go up to the top floor and wait, which didn't seem to sit well with any of them, but there wasn't much else they could do.

She had to wonder if it would be beneficial to know more about the people who had taken her, or even more about herself. Knowledge was power, or so Bruce once said when she asked why she had to learn all these things, and also why he got the PhD's that he did, besides the fact that he had no real world skills.

"Arabella," she said, catching the attention of the young woman who looked visibly shaken by the whole experience, though she was masking it rather well considering the circumstances.

"Yeah?" she asked, turning around from where she was helping Steve and Tony pack up the plans, a purple glow surrounding all the equipment that had been piled up around the table they were standing at.

"Is there any way that you can access more of my memories?" she asked, reaching out to help carrying the various items that they were packing, all of their weapons and tech loaded up into boxes, as if they were moving.

"I can, but I'm not going to," the young woman said, and it was strange to see her speaking so rigidly, so focused on the situation that she was no longer the excitable young woman that she was more accustomed to.

Her confusion must have been evident from her very existence, because Arabella didn't even have to turn around from where she was floating Clint's bow and various quivers from right out of his arms, the man only lightly complaining, trying to reach out for them without much effort, which only garnered a small twitch of Arabella's lips, which was more than slightly strange and disconcerting.

"Like I mentioned, you have a scar because of my powers, that's one of the problems that I think is only unique to me. But I can't risk reopening the wound and causing more damage, it was already incredibly difficult for me to pull up all those memories, because you weren't consciously processing them. I could kill you, and I'm not doing that," she explained, looking rather strained as she tried to float the boxes that Steve was carrying.

"Bella, relax, we're going to be okay," Steve said, reaching out and touching her arm with one hand while plucking the box she was trying to lift with the other.

"I can feel them coming, I can feel that it's going to happen, I'm scared," she said, and it was then that she realized that Arabella was shaking.

She hadn't thought of the affect that this problem had on the others. They were fighting for her. They were risking their lives for her. All because they decided that she had reason to live when she was sent off to be slaughtered. She had expected to kill them, but after meeting them, she never once realized that they could be killed.

That they were well aware that any breath could be their last.

º º º

Arabella was like their canary. Bruce explained to her that canaries were used in mines to warn miners if they were still safe to stay inside; when the canary stopped singing, it was time to run. She wasn't sure how to feel about someone she cared about being compared to an animal whose life was used for the benefit of those to whom the canary owed nothing.

It reminded her too much of herself for comfort, but she did understand where the sentiment came from. Arabella was incredibly in tune with the universe, what with having the ability to change it at will, though she asserted she wasn't at that level of control and power just yet, so she could feel when something foreboding was coming.

While Arabella tried to calm down, Bruce helping her breathe and meditate, Tony and Steve were going over all their equipment, distributing them to everyone while Steve ate a granola bar, not having eaten enough for breakfast in order to sustain him.

While they did, Natasha and Clint were helping her brush up on her self-defense skills, which was something that she didn't want to do, but the thought of just sitting there while they all tried to stay alive didn't sit well with her at all.

"You can adapt easily, use that to your advantage, you're not Cap level, but you're close to Nat's," Clint said, as she failed to block another one of his strikes, the man only pulling back at the last second.

She sighed heavily, not wanting to complain, and simply nodded. She wasn't putting in any effort towards their practice, which wasn't fair, but she didn't want to have to try for something that made her uncomfortable, she didn't like it.

But then Clint was looking towards Natasha with an expression of what could only be described as fearful frustration, and the woman inclined her head towards him, which said more to him than it could to anyone else, and she figured then that she should probably actually try.

"Again," she said, and Clint raised his eyebrows, but didn't argue, instead just getting into position.

But before they could actually move, Arabella jumped to her feet, speaking alongside JARVIS, whose voice filled the room. "They're here."

Everything was a blur. Suddenly, everyone was moving, Bruce grabbing her arm and moving towards the side, taking deep breaths and seeming to be the most calm as he took her to the middle of the room, away from all the windows and entrances which seemed to be much easier to break through, Tony getting into the rest of his suit while Steve grabbed his shield, putting the cowl on his uniform.

"To think, we just finished fixing up the place," Tony hummed, earning a swat from Steve who had his eyes glued to his own corner Arabella on his left side, the young woman at the ready.

She could only stand there. She stood in the center of a circle of people who had no reason to care for her, yet did all the same, risking their lives to keep her safe, holding their own against the people responsible for her life in the first place.

She didn't know what they were facing, but from how tense the group was, it was clear that neither side was going down without a fight.

And a fight they would have.

Just when it seemed that nothing would happen, all the windows in the room shattered, everyone dropping down instinctively, Steve trying to get everyone behind his shield, but only succeeding in hiding her, Arabella, and Bruce.

She heard the sounds of sliding and scurrying, and she couldn't help but peer out to see who would appear. She couldn't remember the faces of the people she worked with on her missions, the ones that drove the vans and provided the tools, but she figured that there were a good number of them to make sure they weren't tracked; that meant that there would be a good number they would have to fight.

But a good number was all there seemed to be as they began to flood in, and she had to wonder what made them think this was a good idea. They were better than this, she thought, utterly confused, because the entire foundation didn't crumble when she left, they wouldn't have allowed it, they sent her in to die with the understanding that they had someone else to replace her.

Yet there they came, flooding in en masse, being shot down by Tony, their blows either dodged or blocked by Steve's shield, and it was a struggle to see them as Bruce kept tugging her low to the ground, not wanting her to be grazed in the event they started shooting.

But as she had said, they didn't come with guns, and whatever they were sending towards them were far more concerning than bullets, Clint shouting when he was grazed with one, still on his feet, but momentarily stunted, which caused a pause in the entire team, which was enough for them to lose their footing and let the other side gain the upper hand, swarming in faster than they could be shot down, but still not enough to be able to overtake them entirely.

But because of their leverage, Bruce was in much more danger of getting hit, which was something that no one wanted at the moment. Arabella was making a better shield to protect them with, but in making the shield she was sacrificing her offensive attacks, which meant that she had to alternate, which still didn't bode well for the scientist.

Finally, the team started to spread out from the tight circle they had placed themselves in, Bruce pushing her back as he searched for a place to stay out of the line of fire, resigning himself to the fact that it would be safer for them to not be as close together despite everything.

But from the moment that they had broken in, she had felt as though something was off. The ones that had started the attack were those that she had more memories of—if they could even be called memories. The ones that provided the tools and the modes of transportation, the ones that weren't tasked with anything more than simply being there to help. If they had only had them to rely on, it would make no sense that she—the one initially tasked with all the work—was the first to be disposed of.

But then it all made sense when she heard footsteps from behind her.

Strange as it was, she wasn't surprised when she felt a hand grab her arm and tug her back, her head snapping back, only to then snap forward, and she struggled to fight out of the grip that was nearly breaking her arm by holding her alone.

Even as she was dragged away, her body colliding against the walls and the walls of the elevator, she didn't once scream, utterly silent, as she was trained. Because even after all this time, even after all the change, she was still the exact same.

She seemed to be watching from a distance, detached from her body that was being dragged away, unaware of anything and everything around her, of the sounds and stomping of those moving to get inside the room, racing to overtake the people that were doing everything to keep themselves alive. All because of her.

"Go."

Then everything was back into focus, and suddenly she could feel the agonizing burn of heated metal against her arm, and she turned to look, finally letting out a guttural scream at the sight of a brand being burned into her flesh, unable to break free as she was pinned down with more force now that she was trying to fight back, the doors of the elevator slowly closing.

"Marnie!" Steve called, but she couldn't see him, the elevator taking her down into the floor below, letting in the last wave of people before a barricade was placed in front of it to keep them in.

She struggled to break free, lightheaded and quickly losing consciousness from the pain that radiated from her arm. She didn't dare look at what was branded, not wanting to see what was etched into her melting flesh, let alone the flesh itself, but her jaw was soon grabbed, turned up to be able to look a man in the eye. A man who was so familiar yet a stranger all at once.

"You had one job," he whispered, shaking his head the way Tony did whenever Steve didn't understand a joke of his, with a familiarity and teasing he had no right to hold, "We didn't expect you to kill them, but if they didn't kill you, you should've died anyways. Instead they saved you. One job."

"You left me," she spat, because that was all she could think; even after all they had done to her, after everything that had happened, after all that she wished she could leave in the past, she was hurt; she was hurt that they left her, that they abandoned her, that they didn't want her anymore.

They hadn't wanted her, so they disposed of her; and now they had the audacity to act like everything was okay.

The man—she hadn't bothered to learn his name, and she didn't want to now—rolled his eyes, looking towards the man next to him, and it was like nothing had changed, like she had never left; only this time, she could see and she could feel.

But she also noticed more. She could hear the sounds of everyone fighting, and could feel the shake of the floor, which meant something that she hadn't wanted to ever see, but considering the circumstances, she was glad that Bruce was, in some sense, okay. But, and possibly most importantly, she could see what they were wearing. And, more specifically, what was resting on each of their hips.

"We didn't expect you to last as long as you did," the second man said, bending lower to speak to her, "but since you're still alive, I'm sure we could still use you for a little while longer. Good call on us to brand you in advance, we are expanding after all." He paused to reach out and squeezed the raw part of her arm, causing her to cry out in pain, sighing and shaking his head, "What did they do to you, Viper? You were so strong before. Now look at you. Weak."

That was where he was wrong. She had been strong before, but she wasn't weak now. Now, she was angry. An angry that bubbled from deep in her chest, spreading out to the tips of her fingers and the ends of her toes, overtaking her to the point of rendering her nothing but utterly, purely, terrifyingly calm. The same calm she had felt for all her life. Because things were exactly the same.

With the same speed that she always had, and always would have, she grabbed the knives that rested on the hips of each man and jumped to her feet, grabbing one and jamming the knife into his back; it was messier than she had ever done, and it wouldn't kill him instantly, but he wouldn't be running after her.

But she could only grab one at a time, and she shrieked as the other man tried to restrain her, grabbing at her arms, trying to put her in a chokehold. Unfortunately for him, however, he had taught her very well, and as much as it hurt, the need to survive far outweighed any pain she could feel, and a jab to his stomach and a stab in the same place was enough to dispatch him, sending him tumbling to the ground.

She looked towards the barrier, finding no one was there to guard it, and she started towards the elevator, not wanting to stay longer than needed, but stopped when she heard them shout.

While being stabbed in general was an unfortunate situation, instant death wasn't always likely, and without the full use of her knowledge, she hadn't been aiming for that outcome; most likely because she didn't want it in the first place. But that meant that they were still alive.

She stood there for a moment, just watching them struggle to speak, unsure of how to refer to them. It had been difficult for her the entire time once she stopped calling them her masters, but now there they were, and she couldn't help but feel as though she had hurt those closest to her, as painful as the feeling was.

The guilt of a victim ran deeper than the guilt of the one who had caused them harm.

"Whatever they did to you," one of them rasped, a glint in his eye that she never wanted to see again, "Whoever you think you are. You'll never be theirs. You will always belong to us."

She felt a shift within her, the calm anger paving way towards an assuredness that she had never felt, a full understanding in that had never once passed over her until this one very moment, her shoulders rolling back and her posture straightening, her entire world utterly clear.

"My name is Marnie, and I belong to myself."

With that, she left, breaking through the barrier by simply pressing a button, heading to the top floor, darting past the fallen bodies of unconscious and injured souls that were all so much like her, and yet all so different, and she couldn't help but pause halfway up the stairs, turning to look at them, wondering how long they were expected to last before they, too, were meant to be tossed aside for something better and new.

"Okay, big guy, settle down," Tony called, shocking her back to reality, and she raced up the rest of the way, realizing that the sounds of fighting had significantly decreased since she had been down in the hall.

The fight wasn't fully finished, there were still a handful still kicking, but she could scarcely pay them any mind, her attention fixed solely on the green monster that was taking up the majority of the room, closest towards the windows, obscured from view when she first came in.

It was flinging people across the room without so much as a thought, and while it seemed to work in sync with all the others, there was a clear tension help between them, a fear of the unpredictable that permeated and choked all within the vicinity, but there was a hope and a want for trust clearly there.

She had seen the videos, she knew what it was—who he was.

"She's back!" Tony called, and everyone immediately turned, letting out a sigh of relief.

A short lived sigh, as Clint immediately went back to punching his assailant and Arabella was trying to keep them all contained and in one place so as to not be ambushed later on, Natasha dispatching all of them while Steve and Tony blocked all the shots coming from their weapons, ones that she couldn't recognize.

But she hardly paid them any mind, unable to stop herself as she made her way towards the beast, and it was because of how distracted everyone was that they weren't able to stop her until she was no more than three feet away, staring up at the towering figure whose back was turned to her.

"Marnie, get back!" Steve shouted, catching the attention of not only her, but of the monster, who had just finished off the last of his attackers, turning around to see what Steve was yelling at.

Everyone shouted as he turned to attack, ready to take down the final assailant, and she could scarcely make a sound, only just registering what was happening the moment before his arms were raised to come right down.

Then he stopped. His furrowed brow began to loosen, a look of rage turning to a look of confusion, of recognition without full understanding, and she could only stare up at him as his arms began to lower, one still partly raised while the other hung at his side. After a few moments of just staring, his raised hand reached out towards her, and it was her reaction that truly surprised her.

Whenever she thought of the monster that Bruce hid inside him, she always felt a twinge of fear, always knowing that, if he were to get angry, there would be no stopping him, that she would have to run or hide, that this was not a creature to be trifled with; when she had come to kill them, she hadn't expected to be successful in killing this one.

Yet there she was now, unflinching as she stared at the hand that could crush her head without any difficulty, hardly breathing as one finger reached out to poke at her face. It wasn't malicious, it wasn't cruel. It was curious, testing the waters, and once she righted herself, she slowly reached out and tapped his finger, hoping that she wouldn't upset him by doing so.

Whatever she had done seemed to be right, as he simply did it again, and she could have described his expression as a smile, but it seemed that, in this form, he wasn't quite sure if he knew how to smile either; they seemed to have that in common.

They continued like that for some time, him poking her cheek or her shoulder, her trying not to completely topple over while tapping another one of his fingers. It didn't last for too long, enough for everyone to do a quick scan and make sure they were truly safe, and it when Arabella announced that they were clear, she noticed that he was beginning to look less green by the moment. She watched in wonder as he transformed right in front of her, now naked and almost immediately collapsing.

She caught him quickly, looking over towards Steve who was rushing towards her, a sweater and sweatpants in his hands, explaining as he reached out for the man, "Thor's usually the one who takes him, but he's not her, so it's up to me."

She nodded, unsure of who Thor was, but stood to the side and let Steve help Bruce into his clothes, the older man still conscious, but hardly able to raise his arms to let Steve put the sweater on, let alone able to put it on himself.

As he was helped to his feet, Steve preparing to carry him in his arms and take him to bed, Bruce turned to look at her, offering up a weary, yet hopeful smile.

"You're gonna have to tell me what happened, but I think it's safe to say we won?"

She felt her lips pull into what she hoped was a smile, reaching out and hugging him, Steve trying to hold onto both of them when it was clear she wasn't about to let go, and Bruce just laughed, holding her close, though he was already well on his way to sleep, but that didn't matter, because it they won.

She looked towards the rest of the group, finding them utterly exhausted, slumped against furniture or walls, but they were safe and, when they caught sight of her looking at them, they smiled, because they were all safe, and they had all won. They could stop hiding. No one was going to hurt them anymore.

She wasn't going anywhere.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 02.22.19 )

It's been a hot second, ya'll, I'm so sorry, I was honestly so daunted to write this chapter, it was gonna be really intense and I knew from the get-go it was gonna be a doozy, which was why I spent so long doing it. Honestly, I'm so sorry that it took this long, I did not mean it to take this long. It's not even good, I'm so sorry.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!