Chapter 12- Revelations

Author's Note:

Yay, a new chapter! I've been busy lately and haven't been able write as much as I wish. I would like to thank my beta adoctoraday for her wonderful help!

Octavia's POV

Octavia slipped out of the dropship, and looked in awe at the destruction around the camp. Somehow she had missed seeing the fallen limbs and tangled debris just a short time ago. Octavia spotted Bellamy and Clarke talking as she walked through camp, and moved closer to them. She needed to know what they planned to do with the prisoner. As she neared them, Octavia heard Clarke ask, "What are we going to do with him? We can't keep him locked up forever."

Octavia stopped and hid behind the brush pile when she heard Clarke's question. She wanted to know what they were planning, but she knew it would be difficult to get an honest answer from her brother. "If we let him go, he'll be back, and not alone next time." Octavia was stunned by his words, and by Clarke's acceptance of them. Octavia backed away, moving away from them before they spotted her.

Octavia wandered through camp, her mind racing, worrying over the Grounder's fate. Her feet lead her to her tent, and Octavia looked up, surprised by the damage it sustained. Her tent still stood, but branches peaked through the holes that now scarred it. Octavia sighed and looked around at the rest of the camp. Most of the tents were completely destroyed; support poles were snapped in half, the fabric lifted away from the ground, some caught in the trees high above. Everyone in the camp seemed to be working on their personal dwellings, so Octavia followed suit.

Octavia returned to the ship to gather wire to repair her tent. When she entered, a guard stood, glaring at her from in front of the ladder. "You aren't allowed in here. Bellamy gave orders." She grunted in response, but said nothing. She quickly pulled enough wire free, and left the dropship, frustrated that her brother would ban her from the prisoner completely.

She let her hands strip the wire while her mind wandered. Bellamy wouldn't let her see the Grounder, apparently worried about what she would do. Surely her brother could understand that keeping the man as a prisoner would do them no favors. She needed to speak with him, and somehow convince him to free the prisoner.

When Octavia finished repairing the large tears in the tent, she moved inside to assess the damage. She owned nearly nothing, so Octavia wasn't saddened by the damage caused by the storm. She felt her mind calm as she removed the limbs and debris. Picking up the fur from the ground, she lifted it to her nose. Even wet, the fur still held the now familiar scent. She breathed in the fragrance slowly, before carrying it outside to clean it. She laid it on a small pine, and brushed the dirt from it carefully. When she could see no more improvement, Octavia left it to dry in the breeze. She pulled her bedding from the tent, and placed it near the fur to dry.

When she entered the tent, Octavia spotted the flower, crushed into the muddy ground. She knelt down and carefully lifted the flower, sighing when it crumbled into several pieces. She looked at what remained of the bloom, and wondered what remained for the man that left it for her. She realized then, that she could not sit back and hide while her brother decided the man's fate.

Octavia stormed out of her tent and walked towards the center of camp. Her brother was nowhere to be seen. Jasper and Monty were working near the fire pit, so Octavia decided to question them first. "Have you seen Bellamy?" Jasper looked nervously at Monty before he answered. "We saw him go into the ship earlier, but I can't say that he is still in there." Jasper turned away, fussing over a pile of braches. Octavia looked at him for a moment before turning her attention back to Monty.

"What have you heard? You two are far too nervous." Monty and Jasper both twitched at her question, looking at her warily. "Oh, come on! What is going on?" she demanded of them.

Jasper turned back to her, irritation showing in his eyes. "He's been talking with everyone. Small groups have been going in and out of the ship all day. None of us want that beast staying in the camp! He deserves to be floated for stealing you, and for attacking Finn." Jasper spat at her. Monty kept his eyes fixed on the branch he held in his hands.

Octavia looked up, feeling the gaze of the people around them burning into her. Many people were now watching her reaction, whispering to each other. Octavia turned and headed into the dropship. The ladder now stood unguarded, so Octavia climbed into the second level. When she pushed the hatch open above her, Octavia heard the hushed voices cut-off, silenced. She found the second floor holding about a dozen people gathered on the side. Bellamy stood when her eyes met his. She stood by the ladder, confused by the secret meeting, and by the glares she now received. "Leave us. We can continue this later," Bellamy said, waving his hand at the group around him.

Octavia moved across the room slowly, noticing how the people moved out of her way. She helped herself to the seat next to Bellamy, and waited for him to sit again. He walked to the hatch and closed it before sitting. Octavia studied his face as she waited for him to talk. She could see the guilt in his eyes, and knew that he was struggling to not tell her something.

"Bell, what is going on? No one will talk to me, and no one will tell me what you are up to," she said, looking into his eyes, hoping that her brother wouldn't lie to her now. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing the curls out of his face with a sigh.

"You don't need to worry about it, O. Everything is under control; our people are just scared. They want to know that animal isn't going to get free and kill them." He spoke quietly and carefully, but Octavia could tell that he was sugar-coating the truth for her.

"Don't lie to me. This is about more than whether or not he is secured. Everyone is avoiding me out there! And now you are avoiding me too! Tell me what is happening, please." Octavia grabbed her brother's hands, pleading with him.

"They are scared, and rightly so. Everyone knows what happened up there," he said, pointing above them. "They are worried about the Grounders coming here for him. They're worried about him bringing them here for revenge. And no one can understand why you protected him. Why did you do that, O?"

She sighed, rubbing her fingers across his still bloodied knuckles. "I'm not sure. I feel guilty for all this happening. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for me. I followed you out to the pod. Then I was stupid enough to get scared and fall down that ravine. He saved me, Bell. He found me down there, bleeding and in pain. He carried me out of there, and took me back to his home. He put himself at risk to help me. He closed my leg, and cleaned me up. When I woke up, all I could think about was finding you before you got into trouble."

Bellamy sat silently, listening to her tell him about what happened to her. Octavia appreciated his attention. She straightened her back before she continued. "I had to crawl out of a tunnel in the back of the cave because I couldn't get out of the hatch by myself. By the time I finally got out, I was exhausted. I started walking back toward camp, hoping that I could find you before the Grounders found either of us. When I heard Roma's scream, I panicked. I couldn't see her, and I couldn't see what scared her. That animal," she said, pointing up above them. "He pulled me back and hid me. I would have been killed by the same spearman that killed Roma if he didn't stop me."

She fell silent, wondering how he was able to find her before she crossed paths with his people. "But he tied you up in the cave. How was that helping you?" Bellamy asked.

Octavia thought about his question, reflecting on how many times she had asked herself the same thing. "I'm still trying to figure that out. I thanked him for saving me, and begged him to let me find you and return home safely. He showed no understanding, so I assume he didn't. But when we got back to the cave, he tied me up and left me in there. I panicked again. When he got back, I didn't give him a chance to do anything. I just attacked him." She rubbed her fingers over her wrist, remembering the feel of the chain around them, the fear she felt.

"What did Finn mean about the horn?" she asked her brother.

He sighed and shook his head. "I'm not sure. He said something about it being a warning; a signal for their people about the acid fog. But there wasn't any fog..." Bellamy trailed off, turning to quiet thought instead.

They sat together, enjoying the moment of peace. Octavia leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. She missed the days when they didn't have any secrets, when everything was simpler.

Lincoln's POV

Clarke returned with one of the guards, who sat nearby, watching, waiting for him to do something. She approached him slowly, holding up the bowl of water and bandages. "I'm just going to clean you up a bit, and then you can eat a little. You've got to be hungry, right?" Lincoln watched as she carefully placed everything on the floor near his feet. She wet one of the cloths before straightening and showing it to him. "This might hurt, but it'll help, I promise."

As she moved closer, reaching out with the cloth to clean the gashes on his side, Lincoln moved away. She jumped at his movement, flinching. She cautiously tried again, but when he moved away from her touch, she seemed to understand. "Okay, you don't want me to treat you right now. How about some water?" She motioned at the guard, who tossed her the water bag. She lifted the bag to his lips, tipping it so the water was nearly spilling out.

Lincoln's throat burned, his body craving the water, but he kept his lips clamped shut. He wouldn't accept anything from them. He knows that they won't free him. He would rather end all of this as quickly as possible; drinking the water would only prolong this.

"Fine," Clarke said, gaining Lincoln's attention again. "I'll be back in a few hours, maybe you will be thirsty then." She turned, handing the water bag back to the guard before she climbed down the ladder. The guard took a long drink from the bag while staring at Lincoln. "Mmmm," he said when he was finished, wiping off his chin. Lincoln's eyes narrowed in on a drop of water left behind and felt his throat turn drier than the desert.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep so he could find a form of escape.

He managed to sleep for a short time, but he was awakened by the pain in his arms and chest. They burned from supporting his weight while he slept. Apparently his legs gave out on him in his exhausted state, letting all of his weight pull against his arms instead. He stretched his neck, hoping to relieve some of the tension as he looked around the stark room. Lincoln peered around the room, hoping that his curiosity would work as a distraction from his discomfort.

The Sky People had already removed nearly everything that they could from this section of the ship. He could see that there were dozens of seats on this floor at one time; a few of them were still in place near the far wall. Many of the panels on the wall were missing as well, exposing some of the wires. Lincoln shuddered, remembering what it felt like to be touched by those wires.

The pain he had felt when the dark-haired woman pressed the wires against his flesh was worse than he had ever felt. His life as a warrior guaranteed him pain and wounds, and he was accustomed to it; his body bore the scars from arrows and swords. Twenty-seven kills were branded into his shoulder, but even they did not compare to the burn he felt travel through his body from that torture. He wondered if Octavia felt the same pain when she stepped between him and that woman. He remembered feeling her tremble against him before falling to the floor. Her eyes had clearly shown pain, but that could have been explained by the gash in her arm from his poisoned knife.

His thoughts drifted then, wondering how Octavia would be treated after interrupting the interrogation by putting herself at risk. He hoped that her brother wouldn't punish her for her bravery.

Lincoln heard the sound of voices coming from the grate at his feet. He concentrated on listening to their words, more out of habit than care. He knew that the people would demand answers and action, but he did not expect to listen to their opinions. The meeting carried on, new voices appeared to make their thoughts known, and some stayed to attempt to persuade the judgment. He was amazed at their level of interaction, everyone being given the chance to speak on important matters never happened in his village. His people's leaders were expected to make wise decisions, not to cater to the people's wishes.

Lincoln continued listening to the voices below, trying to figure out what the word "floated" meant. Most of the people demanded that the criminal be floated for his crime, and Lincoln could only assume it was their version of an execution. They seemed frightened of him, and of his people. "He's an animal." "That savage is going to kill us for this." "His people will come after him; they will kill us for what you did to him." No one wanted to release him; some wanted revenge for the death of their friends, but many more were worried about retaliation from his people.

Their fear was well placed. His people were a violent breed, trained from birth to fight and kill; a necessity in this world. They were a cold group of people; they found it easier to be callous when so many of their people were taken by the Mountain. The Mountain Men had a way of changing their people, turning a friend into a monster, an enemy. Many more of their people never returned from the Mountain. When the Reapers attacked, countless would be taken as prisoners, lost to the Mountain forever.

His Commander would likely order retaliation hostilities for the village that was destroyed, but she would never start a war over one soul being taken hostage. Anya would notice his disappearance, but she would never suspect that the Sky People were responsible. If she found out that he was taken prisoner because he helped one of them, his punishment at her hands would be far greater than what he suffered here.

He was drawn once more from his thoughts when the conversation turned to Octavia's actions. They questioned Bellamy, wanting to know if she really tried to stop the interrogation. They continued, "How could she try to save him?" "He nearly killed her!" "Will she try to free him?" "Is she going to protect him again?" Bellamy tried to calm them, promising that she wouldn't free him. He continued talking, "The prisoner is secure; he's not going anywhere. The only people allowed on that level are me, Clarke, and a few members of the guard. I promise that we will keep you all safe from him."

Lincoln couldn't help but admire the man for how he communicated with his people. He seemed to know what to say and when to say it, but more importantly, he knew when to listen. The hum of voices stopped suddenly. He could feel the tension wafting up as Bellamy spoke once more, dismissing everyone. The people left quietly and quickly, an eerie silence filling their place. Lincoln recognized her voice when she finally spoke. She questioned her brother, wanting to know what everyone was being so secretive about. They were treating her like a pariah, and she seemed angry about it.

Lincoln paid close attention to her words as she described what happened to her brother. She blamed herself for everything that had happened, and told her brother so in a passionate tone. His heart warmed as he listened to her, she understood that he was only trying to help her. She continued talking; walking her brother through all of the events, trying to convince him that he never meant any harm. Finally, the siblings fell silent. Lincoln strained to listen for any movement from below, but eventually he gave up.

Her brother had appeared shortly after his talk with Octavia. He sat on the floor in front of him, silently staring at him. Lincoln waited for him to take action, expecting him to continue his punishment, but nothing happened. Lincoln returned the stare for a while, wondering what the man was thinking, why he didn't do anything. Finally Lincoln gave up; hoping sleep could remove him from this prison.

Octavia's POV

Octavia woke a few hours later, finding herself alone on the ship. She stretched out in the seat, still feeling the fatigue in her bones. She looked down the hatch, and couldn't find anyone standing around on the bottom level. Octavia climbed up the ladder to the third floor, and banged on the hatch door when she discovered that it wouldn't move.

"Who is it?" a voice called down.

"Open up!" she demanded, hoping that Bellamy would allow her to see his prisoner. Miller lifted the hatch carefully, but he refused to open it enough for her to pass. "Miller, get out of my way and let me up," she asked, nicer this time. Miller looked at someone in the room before he finally moved out of her way. Octavia climbed through the hatch and found her brother sitting in front of the Grounder.

"You're not allowed to visit him Octavia," he said somberly.

"Allowed? Do I need your permission now?" She pressed, trying to make him change his mind. She glanced at the grounder, who was slumped again the restraints, apparently sleeping. She returned her eyes to her brother, who still sat, looking at the floor beneath his feet.

"In this you do. I can't let you up here. Our people want me to kill him and get it over with."

Octavia gasped, "No you can't do that! He hasn't done anything, you can't." She knelt in front of him, trying to gauge his mood.

"I don't plan on it. I don't want to kill him, anyone," he answered, his shoulders hung in defeat.

"Bell, what are you thinking? You can't keep him tied up like that forever," she said, gesturing to the bloodied prisoner.

Bellamy followed her gaze, and nodded. "I know, but I don't have any other option right now. Our people want his blood. They want revenge for everything he and his people have done to us. Diggs and Roma died trying to find you, and Murphy just disappeared; there is no telling what they did to him…"

"I'm sorry, it's all my fault. If I didn't fall down that bank, none of this would be happening."

"You didn't do anything. They did," Miller spoke from the other side of the room. Octavia shuddered at the venom in his voice, and the hatred in his eyes. She looked back at her brother, who did not look pleased at the man's input.

"Would you check my tent for me, sis? I haven't had the time to see how bad the storm hit it, and I would really like to sleep tonight." He smiled down at her, waiting on her reply.

Octavia stood, knowing he wanted her to leave for more reasons than he said. "Sure, no problem, but don't expect my help the next time a hurricane hits." She heard his chuckle as she walked back toward the ladder.

Octavia moved through the camp as quickly as she could. Most of the people didn't seem to notice her walking through the camp this time, and for that she was glad. Bellamy's tent appeared to have fared better than hers; there was only one large tear in the back of it. She retrieved the extra wire from in her tent, and started repairing the tear first. The simple task helped to calm her mind, and soon she was humming a tune as she sewed.

When she was finished with the outside of the tent, Octavia ventured inside to air out and dry Bellamy's possessions. She picked up his bedding first, which was heaped together on the side closest to her tent. She placed the cushions next to her own and hung the parachute up on a branch to dry. After checking her own cushions and fur, Octavia decided to return her items safely in her tent.

Octavia went back into Bellamy's tent and started gathering the brush and braches that were scattered across the floor. She tossed them in front of the entrance, planning to add them to the center pile in the camp after she was finished. His extra shirts were dry, so Octavia folded them neatly and placed them on a dry, packed section of the floor. She scanned the area, wondering how he came to possess extra weapons and bags. Shaking her head, she tossed the spears and knives into a pile near the entrance. She gathered the 3 remaining bags and sat in the middle of the floor to check on the contents.

One of these is not like the others, she thought sarcastically. A small bag made out of leather seemed familiar, but she knew that she hadn't seen her brother with it before. Most of the furs that the hunters managed to properly skin were being tanned and stored for winter, so how did he get a leather bag? She opened the bag and looked inside cautiously. She found only a few objects in the bag; a tin of vials, a worn compass, and a leather book. She pulled the book out and examined it first. The pages were tattered on the edges, and the leather was soft, showing its age and use. She untied the leather strip and opened the book, wondering what it contained.

She let the pages flutter open at their own will, and gasped at what she saw. A landscape was drawn with amazing detail, mountains rolling out in the distance. She stared at the image, amazed by the talent. She turned the page carefully, afraid that she would mare the drawing. Next she saw a group of deer feeding in a meadow. She continued turning pages, looking at detailed drawings of animals and people, and hurried illustrations of landmarks. She was fascinated by the foreign images and ideas the book held, and couldn't help but wonder if she would ever experience the world contained in those pages.

Octavia carefully closed the book and tied the cord once more before standing. She lifted up the bag and carefully placed the book back inside, and set it near the entrance. She quickly checked on the contents of the other two bags before moving to her own tent. She moved the cushions back to their proper placed and slid the bag underneath, hiding it from any prying eyes. She wanted to look at the book again, and learn everything she could about its artist and his world. After rubbing the fur to ensure it was dry, Octavia placed it on her bed and exited back out to the camp.

She was knelt down, picking up the braches and debris around their tents, when Bellamy appeared. "Here, let me help," he said, claiming the pile near his tent. "Thanks," she said quietly, still lost in thought. They walked silently to the middle of camp, and deposited their load into the wood pile for the communal fire pit. Octavia looked at the others gathered around the fire, and was relieved to notice that no one was staring at her. Everyone seemed relaxed after spending the day working in the camp. They still had a lot of work to do, but everyone would sleep easily tonight.

Bellamy suddenly appeared at her side offering food, Octavia hadn't even noticed his absence. They sat with Clarke near the ship, listening to her update on Finn. "He's doing a lot better tonight. He's been complaining for food all day, and telling Raven that I'm starving him with the nutritional pills," she smiled. "As long as he doesn't develop a fever tonight, I'm going to let him move back out to his tent and start eating fresh food again tomorrow."

Octavia nodded in response, but didn't speak as her thoughts were drawn to the prisoner again. She doubted that the guards were making sure he was fed and watered, and began to worry about him. "Has he eaten?" she asked, looking at Bellamy.

He shared a cautious look with Clarke before he answered. "No. He won't accept anything from us, and he won't let Clarke tend to his wounds." Octavia looked to Clarke, who confirmed his statement with a nod.

"Are you going to let me try, or are you going to let him die up there?" she asked plainly. She hoped her brother would see reason, but she was worried that his stubbornness would prevent it.

"O, I don't trust him. I don't want you to be up there with him right now. When he gets hungry he will eat, it'll just take time," he said, using his big brother voice.

Octavia rolled her eyes at him before passing him the rest of her food. "I'm exhausted, so if I'm not needed, I'm going to bed." She turned away from them before he had a chance to say anything in reply.

She went straight to her tent, needing to be alone, away from the people that thought her strange to have sympathy for the prisoner. She took her pants off before sitting on the bed, and rubbed the injury on her leg. She managed to forget about the pain today, but it was reminding her of its existence now that she was resting. She laid down on her side, trying to alleviate the burning pain in her leg, and the worry on her mind. After pulling the fur over herself, Octavia fell asleep.

She woke feeling oddly peaceful; her dreams were more comforting than they had been in a long time. She remembered a feeling of warmth, but could not remember what her dreams were about. Octavia stretched before lifting the fur off of her. As her hand brushed the fur, she remembered everything she had witnessed the day before. The guilt quickly returned, compounded by the fact that she forgot about her savior being held captive in the dropship. She dressed quickly and stormed out of the tent, determined to see the prisoner.

She passed Jasper and Monty, who were preparing to join the others that would be gathering food for their stores. She glanced up at them, the hair rising on the back of her neck when she saw Jasper's expression. His eyes were cold and accusatory. She quickly looked away, not wanting to know the reason for his anger.

Octavia entered the dropship, and spotted Clarke sitting with Finn. She crossed and greeted him first, "Hey Spacewalker, how are you feeling?"

He smiled at her, and she was relieved to see that the color had returned to his cheeks. "I'll live, but I'm pretty sure I'll think twice about joining a rescue mission again."

Octavia smiled back at him, "Thank you, Finn. I'm glad that you're feeling better." She nodded to Clarke before turning away from the pair. She climbed up the ladder, hoping her brother would allow her to see his prisoner. Bellamy was sitting on the second level, speaking quietly with Miller and Drew. When they noticed her, Miller and Drew mumbled something to Bellamy, and rose to leave. They nodded politely to her before descending the ladder.

"So Finn is feeling better," Octavia said, hoping to break the awkward silence. Bellamy ran his hands up and down his legs nervously before standing.

"Yeah, I spoke with him earlier. Miller and Drew are going to help Clarke get him settled back into his tent." Octavia watched as he paced around the floor.

"What's up, Bell?" she asked, trying to sound more friendly than she felt.

"It's nothing you should be worried about," he answered shortly, not breaking his movements.

"Would you stop that and talk to me?" she snapped, drawing his attention. He looked at her, his expression difficult to read.

"I don't want to argue about him again!" he shouted.

"And I don't want him to die just because he saved my life! This is ridiculous, Bellamy. You know that, right?"

He turned away from her, not wanting to look into her eyes as he spoke. "What I know is that we lost our people because he captured you. I found you cowering in the shadows of his cave. His people were determined to kill all of us because we came to find you. I can't just forgive that!"

She could feel her anger building up as he spoke. She took a deep breath, pushing her emotions down, hoping she would be able to speak calmly. "You can't hold him responsible for his people's actions."

"I must. Our people are holding him responsible for it, and so am I. I can't overlook everything we lost because of him."

"But-" she started, but he cut her words short.

"No, Octavia, I'm not going to keep talking about this. You're not going to change my mind. You aren't going anywhere near him!" He told her firmly. He turned her around and pointed to the ladder, "Now get out of here!"

She walked forward, shocked by his treatment. Her brother never treated her like this when they were on the Arc. He changed a lot since she was discovered on the Arc, and she could barely recognize him now.

Octavia slipped through the camp early the next morning, moving with determination so no one would ask why she wasn't helping with the clean-up. She'd spent most of the night awake in her tent, trying to find a way to get the prisoner out of camp before her brother decided he should be put down. He was still convinced that the man would cause them harm. She was now sitting in the dropship, waiting on her brother to come down from the upper level. All of the guards had been given orders to keep her away from the prisoner, so this was as close as they would let her get.

Bellamy finally climbed down the ladder, but sighed when he saw her, "Why are you here?" She stood before answering, "I'm waiting for you to let me up there to see him."

"Get comfortable then," he replied coarsely. He started toward the door, but stopped. "I'm letting him live, isn't that enough?" he asked.

"He saved my life, Bell. How many times do I have to tell you for you to believe me?" she said, but he would meet her eyes.

"I know you see it that way, but-"

"No, that's the way it is. I'm not talking about how you found me in the cave. The third day we were down here, I snuck out of camp and went to the river." He balked at her, but she ignored him and continued. "After I got in the water, I laid back to enjoy the water. I hadn't even cleaned myself when some horrid monster swam up and bit me. It drug me down to the bottom of the river and held me there. I nearly drowned, but that man-" she pointed above them, "He saved me. He jumped in and attacked the beast, and pulled me out of the river." Octavia got quieter as she spoke, remembering her fear and confusion that day.

Bellamy stared at her, shocked by her confession, and confused by her reaction to it. He shook the thoughts from his head, refusing think about them right now. "He's still dangerous."

Octavia laughed at his remark, "How dangerous can he be when he's tied up and has a hole in his hand?"

Bellamy looked down at her with an angry expression. "Whatever twisted connection that you think you have with that animal, forget it. You don't get to see him, end of discussion." He moved toward the door, but Clarke's appearance prevented either of them from speaking about it further.

Octavia returned to her seat at the bottom of the ladder, pretending to pout and ignore their conversation. She listened to them as well as she could, but she could only hear broken parts of the conversation. Apparently Clarke was travelling toward some supply depot, and she wanted Bellamy to join her. Octavia would be glad for their absence; she could use it to her advantage since the guards normally relaxed when Bellamy was gone. With both leaders of the camp gone, Octavia knew she stood a much better chance of getting up to see the Grounder. She would be able to find a way around the people in camp who might try to stop her, and she was going to help the man, one way or another.

Author's Note:

Thank you all for reading! I would love to hear what you think about the story so far, so please leave me a review! I am working on a lot right now so it will continue to be a few weeks between chapters, but I will be getting them out as soon as I can!