Lonely Souls

Disclaimer: I don't own Les Mis :(

Author's Note: Bonus chapter time! I would like to thank everyone for their kind reviews on the first part of this story - I think this may have been my favorite thing I've ever written :) Reviews, as always, are encouraged and welcomed. The rest of this story will take place in Enjolras's point of view - and may I just say how fun it was to get inside his head! Thank you everyone :)

Part 1

Spirits were high as the Revolutionaries built their Barricade. The people of Paris were eager to help the cause, and threw as much furniture as they could spare out their windows. The furniture crashed to the streets with loud crunches and splits, and Enjolras aided many others in stacking the furniture to form a Barricade. It was one of many, but Enjolras felt that his Barricade held some special meaning. Or perhaps his mind was still just foggy from the night before.

Ah, the night before. Most of his friends had had so much wine that they couldn't even remember that they had met the night before at the Café. But Enjolras...he'd been sure not to drink so much. Even if he died in this battle, as he was sure he was going to, he wanted to remember his night with Eponine. Eponine...simply her name distracted Enjolras to the point that he forgot where he was for a moment. It wasn't until he was shouted at by Grantaire to focus that he stopped thinking of his lover.

"Bit lethargic today, aren't we Enjolras?" teased Grantaire. "What happened to you, oh fearless leader? You, with all the energy in the first place! Wake up, my friend!"

Enjolras gave his friend a small smile, and patted him on the back. "I'm focused. I was just thinking, is all."

"About a pretty girl?" smirked Grantaire. For he knew that the leader of the Revolution did not think of women - his only focus was the Republic of France. If he lived through this Revolution, Grantaire was going to be sure to find Enjolras someone to put up with all of his stoic nonsense.

"You caught me." said Enjolras emotionlessly. Grantaire chuckled as he continued to build the Barricade. "But come now, back to the matter at hand. We must find someone to go behind enemy lines." Enjolras looked around him, and shouted clearly, "I need a volunteer! Someone who can find out their plan and when they will attack!"

A man stepped forward and offered his services to Enjolras. "I can find out the truth!" his voice was stern, and held authority. Enjolras wondered if he had once served in the police force or something along those lines. "I know their ways - fought their wars. I served my time in the days of my youth." The man looked to Enjolras expectantly, and Enjolras nodded. The man nodded as well, and then left the Barricade to proceed forward with his mission. Enjolras felt one of many weights lifted from his shoulders.

"Right then!" he shouted to everyone else. "Don't dawdle, we must build our Barricade. Remember this moment - for this is the day that freedom shall reborn!"

Enjolras's speech was followed by cheers and claps, and Enjolras himself received several pats on the back. He beamed at his followers and friends, although his mind was distant. What was Eponine doing, he wondered. Was she alright without him? Had she received his letter yet? Did she weep for him?

"Must you go tomorrow?" she had asked him the night before. Enjolras still clearly remembered the way she had felt in his arms. She'd been so sturdy and sure of herself, and her actions spoke of nothing to him but love. Enjolras had never known what it felt like to love a woman, but he knew the way he felt about Eponine. Enjolras had always been passionate about life, and that passion was existant in how he thought of his girl.

"I fight today for you." he whispered to himself. That was all he needed to think for the adrenaline to pump through his veins once more. Today, he fought in Eponine's name. Today, he would fight to change the world for her and for her children. Enjolras ignored the stab he felt in his heart at thinking of Eponine with a husband and children in several years. For today, he forfeigted his life, and with it, he forfeited Eponine and any possible future he could have had with her.

Enjolras looked up from his thoughts, and saw how high his Barricade had risen. He felt pride swell his heart, and he climbed to the top of his mountain with Marius by his side. Marius handed him his red flag, and someone else handed him his weapon. Smiling widely, for as far as he was concerned he had succeeded in his goal to at least alert France that revolution was possible, Enjolras sang out, "Red - the blood of angry men! Black - the dark of ages past! Red - a world about to dawn! Black - the night that ends at last!"

Breathless from his outburst, Enjolras dismounted his Barricade, and spoke words of encouragement to those who said something to him. He looked around at his fellow Revolutionaries, and saw in each man's face the yearning for a new world. He felt a pang of guilt, for the odds that these people would live through the night were slim, but they were here by choice. This was a cause worth fighting for. "Rest now!" he commanded in his best assertive tone. "There is nothing more to be done until our volunteer returns with news of the enemy force. I urge you to build your strength - no doubt you shall soon be needing it!"

The cheers came about once more, and everyone crowded around their fearless leader. Enjolras felt invincible - he knew that he was not going to make it out of his Revolution alive, and so he would plunge forth with strength and wit to do as much as he could while he still breathed. He knew that one day, others would follow his example and rise to the task of creating a new world for France.

"Won't you at least promise to stay safe for me? I know that I am behaving selfishly, but I love you. And I don't want to be without you, Enjolras. I can't compete with your Revolution, for I know that she will always be your only love. But I wish fervently that you could just keep me in mind while you fight for freedom. Just think of the unimaginable joy that I would feel at having you come home to me."

Eponine would not stop invading Enjolras's thoughts. All he saw in his mind's eye was her pleading gaze, and he remembered with crisp clarity the way she had pleaded with him to try to come home. Enjolras was more confused than he had ever been before - how could one woman matter more to him in that moment than an entire country? Than an entire Revolution? When he'd begun planning this day, he'd planned it with every intention of dying. Now, however, all of his carefully thought out schemes and routes were unravelling. For if he could, he wanted to return home to Eponine.

The hours passed slowly. Each second was agonizing to live through. Enjolras waited impatiently for the return of his volunteer, who he found out quickly was not who he seemed to be. Gavroche wasted no time in pointing out that the volunteer was the well known Inspector called Javert, and he was a spy from the other side. Enjolras knew he should have seen that coming - he knew he should have asked someone to go whom he trusted! In a fit of rage, Enjolras commanded that Javert be taken into the tavern and beaten. It was men like he who would be the downfall of the Barricade.

It was night, and the moon rose high into the sky. The air was cold and bitter, and Enjolras was sure he felt the stirring of rain beginning in the heavens. God was showing his support for the cause - He wept for Enjolras and his friends. He wept for their sacrifices. Enjolras knew in that moment that he was doing the right thing.

The unmistakable sound of footsteps came closer to the Barricade. The Revolutionaries immediately sprung to action, and positioned themselves for battle. Despite his confidence, Enjolras began to shake with fear. It was finally happening - the moment of truth. Everyone behind the Barricade had passed the point of no return. One of the men in uniform called to the Barricade, "Who's there?"

Enjolras swallowed. He bulked up, put his finger on the trigger of his gun, and called back in a voice as clear as day, "French Revolution!"

There was a moment of silence that lasted as long as a single heartbeat. There was no sound, not even the sound of breath. And then - "FIRE!"

Enjolras heard the sounds of the guns going off before he registered that bullets were making contact with the furniture they had piled so carefully to hide themselves from the French Army. And then the boys of the ABC Café were screaming. Guns were being used on both sides, and the men in uniform began to climb the Barricade. Marius was the first to fall. He made eye contact with Enjolras for a single moment, nodded solemnly, and went to face his fate. He was shot down before he had even made it to the top of the Barricade.

While there was no time for Enjolras to grieve just then, he stood frozen in shock for a moment. He could barely register the fact that Marius, his close friend, was dead. For a moment his heart was beating, and then in a flash, his life was over. Nothing could have prepared Enjolras for that.

He was on auto-pilot. He fought the men who attacked him, but his mind was drifting off to thoughts of his friends all dying like Marius had. What had Enjolras been thinking? He was simply a boy! He was a boy fighting a man's war, a war he knew from the start he had no chance of winning. Why had he chosen, then, to sacrifice all those he loved?

"Enjolras, no!" came a sudden feminine cry from behind him. Enjolras turned to the sound of it, because he knew that voice, and it should not have been anywhere near him.

The first thing Enjolras registered was the gun that was aimed directly for his heart. But before he could take care to climb out of the way, another human being stood in front of him and blocked the barrel. The person grabbed the gun and immediately aimed it away from Enjolras. Before he could even thank the person, the gun went off, and Enjolras's savior fell to the ground. Her cap had fallen off, and waves of curly brown hair splayed upon the ground.

"Eponine, no!"

Enjolras did not even know he was screaming until he heard himself a moment after. He forgot all else and ran to his lover, who was crumpled in a heap on the ground. Her hands were pressed tightly against her stomach, where she must have been hit with the bullet, and her eyes were shut tightly in pain. Enjolras's stone heart crumbled to dust. The rain he had felt coming on suddenly descended then, and seemed to weep for Eponine just as Enjolras was. He didn't even know that he was crying - he couldn't understand how to release the grief he felt swelling inside of him. It was too much to bare.

"Eponine!" sobbed Enjolras again, his voice rough and cracked. He was sure he sounded like a heart-broken child, but he could hardly bring himself to care. He continued to run to Eponine as he cried out, "God, no! Please tell me you're alright, Eponine, please!"

"Don't you fret, Monsieur Enjolras." whispered Eponine in a voice that would not have disturbed the angels. He immediately knelt to her side, and gathered her small form in his arms. He was aware of nothing else at all other than Eponine - he did not even know if the battle was still going on. Eponine continued to speak rhythmically in a continuously weakening voice while Enjolras sobbed over her. "I don't feel any pain." Enjolras suddenly realized how cruel he was being - he was letting his darling Eponine become soaking wet and chilled to the bone! He instantly began to remove his coat with the intent of using it to shield her from the rain, but Eponine shook her head sadly. "A little fall of rain...can hardly hurt me now. You're here - that's all I need to know. And you will keep me safe...and you will keep me close...and rain...will make the flowers...grow..."

Eponine's bravery only upset Enjolras further, and he swore he had never cried so hard in his life. Here was his woman, dying in his arms because of his stupidity. He knew that he had no choice but to die now; a world without Eponine meant nothing at all, and Enjolras knew that he deserved to burn in Hell for all eternity for his selfishness. Of course she would have followed him to the Barricade! She wanted to keep him safe! He should have made sure she was safe! He suddenly began to ramble to Eponine about his undying love for her and all she meant to him; he did not really know what he was saying, but he knew that he had to keep speaking. For if he grew silent, all was lost, and he would finally forfeit Eponine's life.

Before he was finished speaking, however, Enjolras felt Eponine go limp in his arms. It took him a moment to register what exactly that meant. In that moment, Enjolras's world came crashing down around him. "No..." he sobbed brokenly, losing all of his carefully stored control. His tears blinded him, and he shook Eponine's shoulders violently. "No, come back!" he pleaded. He did not know who was speaking to, but he couldn't just do nothing. "Eponine, come back! No!"

"Enjolras, we should take her to the tavern."

Enjolras barely registered Combeferre's words. All he understood from them was that someone wanted to take Eponine from his arms.

"Don't touch her!" spat Enjolras venomously. Instantly, anyone who had surrounded him backed off. He held Eponine more tightly against him, and stood carefully. Despite his shaking limbs and swollen eyes, Enjolras took Eponine to the tavern himself. He would keep her precious body safe from any harm. He laid her carefully upon the ground on the third floor of the Café, where they had spent their beautiful night together. How tragically beautiful that that was where she would set up her everlasting rest. He gently placed a kiss upon her forehead, and looked at her one last time. She looked so peaceful...almost like she was sleeping.

Enjolras could not bear the pain. He turned on his heels without a second glance and went back to the Barricade. Enjolras felt positively ruthless - anyone who got in the way of his fight for freedom would perish. He felt the rage spread through his entire body, right down to his fingers and toes. He was ready for battle.

Part 2

No one spoke to Enjolras about the events which had transpired. Everyone almost shied away from him, frightened of setting him off. Enjolras did not mind; he needed time alone. The battle was over for the time being, but the war had only just begun. He hid himself behind a corner, and listened with sorrow at the sound of his friends singing to each other of all the good times. Enjolras should have been out there reminiscing with them. But he couldn't even bring himself to stand up.

Instead, he sang quietly to himself, in a delicate and weepy voice. "Life without 'Ponine means nothing at all! Oh 'Ponine, you came here only to fall...I shall weep...'Ponine...for thee..."

"I never believed in love at first sight, you know. But I knew when I saw you this morning that I had to meet you. It was almost like I was drawn to you, or something. I still don't know what it is I'm feeling, but I know that I should like to continue to be with you, Monsieur. Oh, Enjolras..."

Her voice was still clear in his mind, and it made Enjolras's heart ache with a pain he was sure he would feel for the rest of his short life to know that he would never hear her sweet voice again. That angel's voice, that perfect voice, that soothing and emotional and passionate voice...oh, Eponine...

"...he's in no condition to speak with you at the moment, however, Monsieur. You see, he's just lost his girl. I think he called her Eponine..."

"You'll take me, then?"

"Yes, but beware - if you shoot us in the back, you will not live to tell!"

Enjolras barely took note of the conversation he heard coming from several feet to his left. His friends, his family, his boys...men, now...must have been gaining another volunteer.

"Because what's one more life?" asked Enjolras sourly, wishing for a drink. All he wanted was to drink away the pain and guilt he felt. His Revolution would do nothing! They would lose, and everyone gathered would die. What was the point?

And then, everything became perfectly clear to Enjolras; in one moment, everything snapped back into focus. From back where everyone was gathered, he heard young Gavroche singing, "Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men? It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again!"

Enjolras smiled as he heard his friends taking charge of what needed to be done. The faith was renewed, and they spoke of the ammunition that they needed and their new plans of attack. He had almost gained the energy to return to them...

When a gunshot went off.

Enjolras ran back to the others, where he saw several of his friends sobbing over the small lifeless body of Gavroche. From beyond the wall of furniture, he heard the French Army call out,

"You at the Barricade, listen to this! The people of Paris sleep in their beds! You have no chance, no chance at all! Why throw your lives away?"

Enjolras spoke up then, and commanded the attention of everyone present. He was their fearless leader once more, and he held his gun tightly in his hands. Others did likewise. "Let us die facing our foes!" Enjolras's voice rang out, and he even believed himself for a moment. "Make them bleed while we can! Let others rise to take our place until the earth is free!"

Enjolras raised his gun then, and aimed it with all the precision of a deadly hunter. "FIRE!" he shouted, and then the guns began to go off. Everyone left at the Barricade seemed to understand that this was the end - they knew that the only success they could hope to have at this battle was to kill as many of the French soldiers as they could. Enjolras heard the other side call for cannons, and he could only pray that everything would end quickly.

The men in uniform began to fire as well, and Enjolras heard someone from behind him tell him to take cover. "Take cover, boy!" they begged. Enjolras barely heard them - he had to eliminate as many of his foes as he could!

The cannons came then, and destroyed the Barricade that had become something of a home to the men behind it. The weaponry of the French army deteriorated all that Enjolras had worked for, and the enemy began to cross over to the Revolutionaries. All of the men Enjolras knew and regarded as friends began to drop like flies, and blood was everywhere. You couldn't take three steps without seeing something horrendous enough to scar your mind for the rest of your days. Enjolras almost felt like throwing up.

Several of the survivors grabbed Enjolras by the arms and led him into the Café, due to the fact that the people of Paris refused to open their doors to the begging Revolutionaries. Enjolras knew that the cause was finished, and now would have been the time for him to find a way home to Eponine.

But Eponine was gone, and her peaceful and graceful body was lying on the ground a floor above him and his friends. He, Grantaire, Combeferre, and Joly stood together, huddled in fright. They had made the transition from men to boys once more, and suddenly, they were just frightened children. Enjolras looked around him at the floor of the ABC Café where all of this had been planned. Had it been only a day since the room had been filled with laughter and joy?

"We have to get out of here!" screeched Grantaire in panic, his head whipping back and forth trying to figure out a way to escape.

"The sewers!" suggested Joly suddenly. "Back down on the street, no one would see us leave through there!"

"We must go quickly!" agreed Combeferre. The three boys immediately ran to the staircase to go back to their new exit, but Enjolras stayed behind. Grantaire noticed this, and turned around in shock.

"Enjolras, come quickly! We have to go or the soldiers will catch up to us!" he shouted.

Enjolras picked up his red revolutionary flag from the floor of the Café. He twirled it in his hands a few times before making his decision. The Revolution was his ship, and he was the captain. He would go down with it. "You go." he told them. "My choice is to stay." Before his three surviving friends could argue with him, Enjolras snapped. "I will not have your deaths on my conscience also! Get out while you still have a chance! Take to the sewers, go now! This is my choice, this is what I choose! Leave me!"

He saw his friends begin to tear up, and they hesitated for only a fraction of a second before darting back down the staircase. He could only hope they would make it out before the men in uniform caught up with them.

It was several minutes before Enjolras was found on the second floor of the Café. A single solider with the foe's face turned up, and made eye contact with him. It was uncomfortable for a moment, before the obviously inexperienced soldier shot his gun. The bullet came towards Enjolras with great velocity before striking his abdomen with a heavy force. Enjolras fell back onto the ground, his life's blood spilling out. He felt another bullet puncture his leg, and he still held his revolutionary flag as he blacked out.

His last coherent thought was of Eponine's smiling face.

Part 3

Darkness. If Enjolras was aware of anything at all in his state, it was darkness. There was no pain. There was no memory. There was only darkness. Enjolras did not know how long the darkness lasted - it could have been hours, or it could have been years. It seemed to pass instantaneoulsy, and then he began to feel pain again.

The pain Enjolras felt was both psychological and physical. Only certain things came to his mind; the fall of the Barricade, the fall of his friends, and the fall of his Eponine were the prominent images he could ascertain in the hazy darkness. He could not hear the cries or the gunshots, but he knew they were existant. What would have been a nightmare to everyone else had been a reality Enjolras had lived through.

He tried to call out to them. He pushed the words and screams from his body, but no matter what he did, the end result was the same. The miserable people of France blamed him for their lack of freedom, his friends fell with his Revolution, and he died a gruesome and painful death.

If only that were the end of the story.

Part 4

Enjolras was sure that he had a guardian angel keeping watch over him. How else could his heart have been beating when he awoke from the darkness?

He shot up from his resting position, wherever he was, and looked about wildly. His eyes were still blind to his location; they were open, he could tell, but they saw nothing but darkness. His head whipped back and forth quickly, and he panted, "I must get back to the Barricade! They need me!"

Where was Grantaire? Where was Combeferre? Where was Joly? Where were his friends? Where was the Barricade? All Enjolras could feel beneath his numb limbs was softness, and he knew that he could not have been anywhere outside. Why had someone taken him from the Barricade? Why had someone taken him from the fight? He had to avenge Eponine and free the citizens of France! He had to fix the world, he had to get out of wherever he was being held captive!

"Enjolras!" a shaky and terrified voice called to him. Enjolras's vision was beginning to clear; the blackness was beginning to fade. The voice - which was very near him - continued to speak as he regained some of his sanity. "The battle is over! You were hurt, you must rest!"

He could almost see now, but that did not answer his question. "But my friends!" he gasped angrily. Where had they gone? Had they gotten out safely? Were they going to meet him somewhere? He struggled to loosen himself from a grip he was suddenly aware of on his arms, but it was no use. The person holding him down was too strong.

And then, Enjolras's blindness ended. All was white save the face he could see right in front of his eyes. There, in all of her marvelous glory, was Eponine. Her eyes were filled with fear, but she had color to her face and a heartbeat. She was the angel who was stopping him from hurting himself. It was then that Enjolras realized..."I'm dead." he spoke softly, letting the idea of death register with him. It was all so surreal, but as long as he was with his love, he did not mind death. And then he realized that the angel with him was still the real Eponine, and he had a lot of apologizing to do. He knew in his heart of hearts that he did not deserve her. "You died s-saving me. Eponine, I deserve to burn in hell for what I've done! It's my fault that you died! I led you to your death, I did, I am so sor-"

But Eponine cut him off. She had a mask of ease upon her glorious face, and it did wonders to slow Enjolras's nervously quick heart rate. Strange; why did his heart beat in heaven?

"Enjolras, neither of us is dead!" Eponine spoke sternly, in a tone of beautiful authority. Everything about Eponine was beautiful. "You were brought here from the Barricade, and I was never shot. I'm fine, I promise you. Now rest, please."

And suddenly, a burning pain in Enjolras's abdomen brought him back to reality and he realized how very much he hurt. The pain was everywhere, especially behind his left eye. His head pounded, and he resisted the urge to moan in agony. Oh, he felt so sick...but what had Eponine said?

"Ep-Eponine? Y-You're alive?" he questioned incredulously. But no! She had died in his very arms, he remembered that with painful clarity! Then how was she here with him? "But how can that be?" he asked innocently. He yearned for answers that he was too weak to acknowledge.

Eponine answered him, but he could barely make out the words. All he saw was her smiling face, and he squeezed her hand tightly. It was flesh alright, and she felt warm and real. It did not matter how; Eponine was alive, even if it was only a dream. Enjolras let his exhaustion overtake him at last, and he slumped back against the pillows. His heavy eyelids began to lower, and he tried to say something to Eponine before he lost consciousness, but he wasn't sure if he pushed the words out in time.

Part 5

Enjolras was on the mend for many weeks, and he still wasn't sure if he would ever be able to walk with the use of a cane again. He was staying in Eponine's home with Eponine and her father, and they treated him like a member of their family. Eponine was Enjolras's angel, indeed; without her support and unyielding love, he knew he never would have made it through his illnesses and injuries at all. He had her to thank for his life.

Her being alive was still surreal to him; at night, he still dreamt of her death and awoke with tears in his eyes. He would not go back to sleep until he saw for himself that her heart still beat. He wasn't sure if he would ever overcome the nightmares. Even when Eponine explained to him the reason she had feigned her death, he could not shake the feeling that she had actually died. It was a pain he knew his heart could never forget.

Three weeks after he'd awoken to find Eponine alive, Enjolras was also granted a surprise visit by Grantaire, Combeferre, and Joly, who had survived the battle just as he had. They had not been to see him sooner because they had believed him to be dead; they were the ones who had told the heroic stories of his demise to the citizens of Paris. When Eponine had found them wandering in the street one day while she was in town, she had told them of her lover's survival, and they could not have been more excited and proud.

To France, it was just another night, but Enjolras could not slumber. He laid in his bed in deep thought, wondering about life and love and fate. He thought back on the night he met Eponine, and what could have happened had they not confessed their love to each other. Truth be told, Enjolras thought he would probably be dead. He was just meditating on this fact when his bedroom door opened. Eponine stood behind the threshold.

"May I come in?" she whispered quietly, standing on her tip-toes. Enjolras nodded vigorously.

"Of course, my love." he responded equally as softly. He did his best to move to the side of the bed without hurting his injuries, and patted the spot next to him. Eponine dashed as quickly as she could to his side, and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. There was no place more comfortable for her than his embrace.

"I feel safer when I'm with you." she confessed. She snuggled into him further, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Enjolras felt secure with his lover in his arms, feeling the steady rising and falling of her chest. It healed his heart in a way to know that she was breathing.

"As do I." Enjolras told Eponine. "Have you had a nightmare?" he asked her unashamedly. He felt Eponine nod against his shoulder.

"Yes." she whimpered quietly. Enjolras could feel tears beginning to stain his shirt. Eponine was crying. "All I saw was your face when they shot you, and I just thought...that it wasn't really a nightmare. That did happen, and there might have been something that I could have done to save you from such pain! You died Enjolras, you were dead, you-"

"But I didn't." reassured Enjolras, holding Eponine to him more tightly. She clung to him desperately, placing a hand on his chest. He knew she was feeling for his heartbeat. "I'm alive and I'm here with you, 'Ponine. I swear never to leave your side again as long as I live."

"You promise?" asked Eponine sadly. Enjolras could practically hear her doubt.

"I promise." he swore earnestly. "Eponine?"

"Yes, Enjolras?"

"Will you do something for me?"

"Anything. I swear to you."

"Marry me."

In response to his question, Enjolras received the most enthusiastic of kisses. And so it was that Eponine and Enjolras became Eponine and Enjolras, one never without the other. Not all stories got their happy ending, but at least Eponine and Enjolras were counted among the lucky and not among the miserable.

Author's Note: Not gonna lie, I cried while writing half of this chapter. And that has never happened to me while writing before. So it's official - Eponine & Enjolras are my OTP. They have officially replaced Erik and Christine from Phantom for me. They just seem so perfect together :') I really liked writing from Enjolras's point of view - it was difficult to pick his brain apart, but fun just the same :) I know most of this was just the original one-shot from his point of view, but I think that there was a lot we missed about the battle reading strictly from Eponine's POV. And I wanted to add a true happy ending for the pair :) And I let Grantaire, Joly, and Combeferre live because...well, I wanted Enjolras to have some friends left. That was truly the only reason - I wanted him to be happy :) Long live the Revolution! I hope everyone enjoyed this two-shot! Expect more Enjonine goodness coming your way soon - subscribe to my account or just check in frequently to see when I post again. Don't forget to review, and thank you a million times for reading my humble tale :)