I didn't really intend to have a sequel to "It's Never Too Late," but here we are. It isn't the longest thing I've ever written, but the idea hit me in the side of the head one day and my brain wouldn't let it go. I do recommend reading the prequel to this before moving forward, though. Too many spoilers otherwise.

In the comics, Mick Rory ended up with cryophobia (a fear of extreme cold, snow, ice, and so on) after an incident as a child where a bunch of kids locked him in a meat locker. But on the show, there really hasn't been any indication that he has this phobia or that anything resembling this event ever happened to him. As far as I can tell, he might prefer a warm and sunny beach to the snow, but he doesn't have any real issues with it.

But then my brain decided to point out that after what happened in my previous story, where he nearly died after exposing himself to absolute zero temperatures, it wouldn't be inconceivable for him to develop the comic-canon fear of the extreme cold. I certainly didn't write "It's Never Too Late" with that in mind, but it works too well to ignore. And thus this particular idea buried itself into my head and I was forced to write it down.

I do not own DC comics, the CW, "Legends of Tomorrow," any of the characters, the concept of time travel, or a bunch of historical events that happened way before I was born like the Great Frost of 1709 or the Great Northern War. By this point, you've probably guessed that much.

Cryophobia

Russian wilderness: December 20, 1708

It shouldn't be this hard to shove down the unpleasant sensations of a pounding heartbeat, a tightness in his chest, and the way his body kept trembling. It was stupid.

Mick had plenty of experience shoving down and ignoring things. Like when his actions burned his family to death. Or the entire Chronos time frame. Or when Leonard was gone, sacrificing himself for Mick. Ignoring and shoving those thoughts down had served him well over the years.

Granted, the fact he hallucinated his absent partner for a while probably meant that it wasn't the healthiest coping method. But he didn't listen to his therapist when he was forced to visit one during prison. He certainly hadn't visited one since Rip dragged him onto the Waverider.

Anything emotional and unpleasant was pushed to the back of his mind, letting Mick get on with his life. It worked. Most of the time. But for whatever this was…

It started after they broke time. After they got Leonard back. After Mick pulled his partner from that timeless, silent… dark… cold place…

He didn't even know what was happening the first time, almost a month and a few missions after Leonard's return to the team. It was a simple mission, one that actually went as smooth as the plan. Only the smallest bit of chaos and destruction, but they actually planned for it. The only noteworthy moment was when the Flash borrowed Leonard from Siberia for a heist. It should have been fine.

But it was Siberia. And it turned out that most of the year, Siberia was cold.

Mick managed to get through the mission, but the sharp chill sank through his coat and left him shaking by the time he returned to the timeship. Actually, it was more than shaking. He barely managed to hide his reactions from his distracted teammates, but Mick stumbled up the ramp while dealing with a racing heartbeat, light-headedness, a painful tightness in his chest, and a feeling of dread that left him struggling to breathe. Everything in him kept screaming it's too cold, it's too cold, it's too cold and even focusing on the simple act of staying upright and walking back to the warmth of the Waverider was a struggle. He only realized what it was when Gideon identified it as a panic attack.

He clenched his eyes closed, hissing between his teeth as he fought against his body's rebellion. The sharp stinging of punching the wall might give him something different to focus on, but past attempts had shown that it didn't actually help for more than a couple of seconds. This wasn't something that he could physically fight, no matter how much easier that would be.

It was stupid. Mick knew it was stupid. He always disliked the cold and it tended to make his burn scars ache, but this was different. It was completely stupid and he hated it, but ever since he set foot through the portal… Mick found himself afraid when he was cold.

And no matter how dumb it might be and no matter how he tried to push it down like anything else that bothered him, Mick couldn't bury the fear that tried to swallow him.

How could a little thing like hypothermia, frostbite, and nearly dying affect him so strongly? They'd faced worse than that. He'd been nearly killed dozens of times. He'd been the Time Master's brainwashed lackey. He'd been turned into some kind of future-virus zombie. He'd seen Lisa go through her teenage years. He should have been fine.

Most of the time, it wasn't an issue. With how much they traveled, they ended up in a variety of climates. Warmer weather was fine and even cooler weather wasn't too bad. Only when they landed in a time and place that was truly cold did he have problems.

And so far, he'd been able to hide his stupid problem. Leonard kept a close eye on him for the first few missions after returning, but he was also watching the rest of the team. Trying to size up the new dynamics and figure out how they'd changed. And Sara certainly distracted him. And since Barry borrowed Leonard during Mick's first unexpected reaction, he missed Mick's discovery of his new fear. Everyone else missed the signs through pure luck.

The first time was the worst one because he didn't expect it. Later trips to colder climates went more smoothly. On the missions that he could manage it, Mick would claim laziness to stay behind. The reputation of a dumb brute had its advantages. But he couldn't do it if a mission was dangerous or if it was too interesting for everyone to believe he'd miss out. In those cases, Mick was stuck with no other options than to grit his teeth and try to push his stupid fear down enough to deal with the situation.

Because he had to deal with the problem. He'd gone to his room after the mission briefing to buy himself a few minutes to pull himself together. He couldn't let the team know that the cold was making him unravel.

Mick wasn't even supposed to be on the team in the first place. And honestly, he didn't contribute anything that the others couldn't do.

He tried to do better. Mick couldn't be "good" like them, but he tried to be better than the traitor who turned against them or the unstable arsonist who nearly burned himself alive. Where once he proudly displayed his scars proudly, embracing the out-of-control person that the fire revealed him to be, Mick now hid them beneath long sleeves. He needed to be at least decent enough to be part of the team and he couldn't be a hinderance.

If he ruined things again… If he ended up as a load because of some stupid fear… Then there would be no purpose for him on the team. They barely needed him now and if he became an actual hinderance, then he could easily lose his place on the team.

Maybe he could go back to his old lifestyle. Maybe. But he didn't want to lose these people. He didn't want to be alone.

And he would be alone. Leonard already chose the team over Mick once and that was before he and Sara ended up together. If this stupid, pointless, and overwhelming fear took him from the team, Mick would be left alone.

But he wouldn't let that happen. His hands at his sides squeezing into fists tight enough to leave his knuckles white, Mick forced down as much of the choking fear as possible. He would be fine. He could handle it. He'd faced far worse than a little chilly weather. If he could shove down the guilt of his parents' deaths, the horror and memories of being Chronos, the pain of losing his partner, and everything else, then he would shove this down too.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to settle down the anxiety clawing at him. He could do this. Mick forced himself to believe it. He would grab his Heat Gun like he told the team, he would head to the Fabrication Room and pull on as many layers as possible, and he would march out into the cold to deal with the latest time mess. And he would keep it together.

If he couldn't completely keep the stupid fear at bay, then he would at least hide it enough to get through the mission.

An ongoing issue since Leonard's return was learning the changed group dynamics.

A lot of things could change when he vanished for almost a year. Mick had grown closer to the others in his absence. Especially Raymond. The reincarnation couple were gone. And while Rip stayed briefly, he eventually left to found a new organization to help guard time since a single timeship could only do so much. They warned Rip to keep an eye on his new people and that they would do the same, acting as a safety measure to prevent them from becoming the new Time Masters. And then there was Leonard and Sara…

As much as he might prefer to control his emotions, or at least his reactions, Leonard kept finding a small and soft smile tugging at his mouth.

But not only did he need to adapt to the changes with the people that he knew, Leonard also had to adapt to the new people.

Amaya was another strong and fierce woman, someone who didn't give up or give in easily. She had a preference for more professional and moral plans, but she apparently had adapted nicely to the Legends and their more flexible methods. She seemed close to Mick and that might have helped Leonard warm up to her more quickly. And while initially she and Nathaniel had a bit of a romantic relationship developing, it cooled over the course of a couple months to something more casual and friendly. An actual and mutual case of being better off as friends.

Dr. Nathaniel Heywood, in many ways, reminded Leonard of Raymond. One more focused on history and language than on technology and weird science quirks, but the similarity was there. He shared the same eager and hyper excitement when he started talking about famous people and events from the past. When given the chance, he would happily show off his nerd knowledge to anyone in range.

Though the fact that he'd spent the first hour and a half of their march through the snow describing in detail how the Great Frost of 1709 was among the coldest winter in Europe within the last 500 years, how the frigid temperatures of the late part of 1708 and early 1709 played a key role in the Great Northern War, and both the weather and Peter the Great's scorched earth policies ensured that Charles XII of Sweden's invasion of Russia didn't succeed was really trying Leonard's patience. Even if it connected to their mission, he didn't need to hear everything about it.

For the moment, Leonard only needed to know the basics until they got the closer. The mission was relatively simple. Apparently history had altered, something causing the Swedish forces to continue their invasion rather than eventually retreating.

Specifically, they were dealing with the winter conditions better than they should have. According to Nathaniel, with the Swedish forces not freezing and starving during a land war against Russia in winter, the entire outcome of the war would change. Because the Russian troops were more prepared for the harmful weather and cautiously stayed within their camps in the original timeline, their losses were substantially lower, contributing heavily to their eventual victory at Poltava the following summer.

Somehow, the Swedish forces had gained access to a new food source and better winter uniforms. That kept them in better condition overall, which meant they made it to summer with fewer losses. And that completely altered the outcome of the entire war. The best guess was that another time traveler or group of time travelers ended up stranded due to time breaking and were bargaining with the locals using a ship's food replicator and the fabrication room.

None of the more moral members of the group were completely comfortable with the idea that removing the stranded time traveler or time travelers would mean condemning those soldiers back to freezing or starving again. But based on Nathaniel's rant about how there would be no St. Petersburg, it was something they needed to fix.

Unfortunately, there were a few deeply annoying limitations. The damaged timeline limited when and where they could travel to through time. The Waverider landed as close as possible, but they couldn't risk being detected by the people they were after in case they didn't want to be rescued. Hence why the team was wearing era-appropriate clothing, marching through the snow and cold for miles, rather than flying closer in the timeship. They were trying to keep a low profile for once.

Though if they ever managed to complete a mission without it ending in at least a little chaos, Rip would probably have a heart attack out of shock.

But as much as Leonard might prefer the cold to the heat, there were limits. And wandering around Russia during the winter, when the sun set extremely early and the temperatures plunged in the darkness, apparently crossed the threshold. The wind cut right through the thick material of their clothes at times. The cold left lips cracked and toes numb. They'd probably have to have Gideon treat some minor frostbite on at least someone before this mission was over, but at least the dropping temperatures eventually quieted Nathaniel down. He was too busy trying to keep warm to continue the history lesson after a certain point.

Sara walked beside him through the dark, her footsteps nearly silent compared to his crunching through the snow. Occasionally her arm would brush against his as they walked. He could feel it even through the thick clothes and the numbing chill. And while faint and restrained, Leonard allowed a smile to cross his face when he glanced towards her. Her presence warmed him far more than the era-appropriate clothes ever could.

He still couldn't quite believe that Sara chose him. He could accept metas, time traveling, and nearly every other part of his current life, but not her presence by his side. But she had. And he wouldn't let anything steal her away. He was a good enough thief to prevent that much.

Once again, Leonard took a moment to glance around and make certain where everyone was. He couldn't resist the urge to keep track of everyone. He knew that no one would wander off. And he knew that Sara was in charge instead of him. But he preferred keeping track of all the variables. And that meant keeping an eye on the rest of the team.

Amaya was at the front, barely visible through the shadows as she moved ahead of them. With her amulet providing her with the traits of a wolf, she was using her heightened senses to guide them forward. The fact it made her more resistant to the temperature was a pleasant bonus for her.

Following a short distance behind her was a clump of nerds. Raymond, Nathaniel, and Stein were all huddled together as they shuffled through the snow. They weren't moving the fastest, but they made constant progress. Right behind them was Jax, the young man keeping close watch on his partner. Raymond and Nathaniel were already keeping an eye on the old man's endurance, making certain the frigid temperature and distance didn't push him beyond Stein's limits, but Jax would be the first to know and would speak up if necessary. And while Leonard could tell that Stein was breathing harder and working harder than the younger men around him, Stein wasn't giving up.

The old man was a stubborn one. Leonard had to respect that.

Other than making a mental note to suggest to Sara that they should give the professor and everyone a break the next time they passed a semi-sheltered spot, Leonard decided that everyone ahead of them seemed fine. And with Mick guarding the rear, none of the locals or rogue time travelers would get the drop on them. With the limited light from the quarter moon and enough watchful eyes, they should be able to avoid anyone wandering the forest. For once, they might be able to manage a simple in-and-out mission. Or at least, they might be able to locate their target or targets before the chaos erupted.

Wait…

As Leonard glanced over his shoulder, he only saw moonlight reflecting off the snow. He stopped, twisting around and looking back the way that they came. The shadows and trees made it harder to see, but he could make out enough.

"Mick?" he called, raising his voice slightly. "You dragging your feet?"

He didn't hear a grumbled complaint. And he didn't see a tall figure stomping his way through the snow. And that sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Mick?"

Now Sara was turning around, a look of concern on her face. And the others were stopping. Amaya even ran back to join the rest of the team. An atmosphere of confusion and unease was forming around the group.

"What's going on?" asked Raymond, craning his neck.

Taking a few steps closer, Jax said, "Rory is gone."

Amaya turned her face upwards and took a deep breath. And then she snapped her head around, clearly picking up a scent. Even her body language matched the wolf that she was channeling.

"I've got him," she said. "I don't know what he's doing though. There's no one else in the area and no blood, so he hasn't been attacked by someone. He's… just back the way we came."

"Then we better find out what the hold up is," said Leonard, keeping his voice even.

He tried to remain calm as they slogged their way back through the snow. The most that he allowed his face to show was frustration. But as much as Leonard tried to ignore the feeling, unease crept up his spine. There was no reason for Mick to fall behind this much. His partner was supposed to be guarding their rear and he wouldn't just get distracted or something. Nothing short of a bonfire would have kept him from paying attention.

And the farther back they needed to retrace their steps, the harder it was to ignore his growing unease. How could he have missed Mick's absence for so long? Leonard was normally more observant than that.

Sara gave him a brief reassuring look, clearly guessing his thoughts. But it didn't completely erase the unease twisting in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't call it worry.

Not yet.

Finally Leonard spotted a tall and broad shape, one particular shadow among the rest. Somehow managing to grit his teeth and breathing a sigh of relief in the same instant, Leonard picked up the pace. Part of him was ready to punch Mick over the trouble that he caused, but his instincts kept whispering this is wrong.

"As much 'fun' as it is to wander around in the dark during the coldest winter in the last five hundred years of recorded European history, do you think now is the best time to play hide-and-seek, Mr. Rory?" called Stein, a mixture of frustration and relief in his voice as he staggered after the group.

The lack of response or any form of reaction did nothing to reassure them. And then Raymond pulled out a flashlight from his pocket, living up to his boy scout image by being prepared even when they weren't supposed to bring a lot of modern objects out into the field with them. But no one scolded him. The flashlight gave Leonard enough light to actually see his partner properly now.

Everything that Leonard saw was wrong. Mick's eyes were pressed closed, his jaw clenched tight, and every muscle in his tense and hunched body looked stiff. He barely seemed to be breathing, only managing tiny strained gasps between gritted teeth. He was too pale, as if all the blood had drained from his face.

But what truly held everyone's attention was his Heat Gun.

Finger on the trigger, going against every form of gun safety and common sense, Mick clutched the weapon close while aiming towards himself. The smallest twitch would engulf his face and chest in flames.

"Mick." Keeping his voice steady and even despite the difficulties at the moment, Leonard took a slow step towards him. "Look at me, Mick. Put down the Heat Gun."

Leonard had known Mick for the majority of his life. He'd seen his partner trapped in almost trance-like states due to his fascination with fire repeatedly over the years. And he'd seen the times where Mick's mind went into dark directions and his connection with fire turned harmful towards himself. Leonard had pulled him out of those disconnected and distant states more times than he could count.

But Mick wasn't reacting to his words and trying to physically shake him out, a dangerous act in normal times since it risked the man lashing out in surprise, now ran the risk of his partner inadvertently burning himself alive. And this seemed different than those past occasions. He wasn't relaxed or calm. This was something that Leonard couldn't name.

Moving slowly towards him, her eyes locked on the finger curled around the trigger, Sara said, "Rory, we need you to put that down." She gestured towards the others to move to the side and out of range. "I don't know what's going on or what's wrong, but—"

Sara moved.

First twisting the muzzle of the Heat Gun away from Mick and anyone else in case of misfire, Sara then managed to tear the weapon from him completely. It only took a couple seconds.

Sara's assassin training… Saving lives instead of taking them.

But disarming Mick wasn't enough to snap him back to reality. He didn't even seem to notice the loss of his weapon. His arms remained close to his body, as if frozen in position. His eyes remained closed and his breathing remained shallow and strained. It wasn't right. He was barely breathing. Leonard could see the tensed muscles in his neck and jaw.

"Mick," called Leonard, his tone firm as he reached for his shoulders cautiously. When his partner didn't try to knock his hands away, Leonard gripped his shoulders tightly enough that his knuckles ached through the gloves and the numbing cold. Shaking his partner slightly, he called, "Mick."

A sharper shake finally managed to produce the smallest reaction from him. Mick's eyes opened briefly with a choked gasp before he squeezed them shut again. But even that short glimpse was enough for a man who'd known Mick his entire life.

His eyes were completely unfocused in that brief glimpse. Mick clearly didn't see any of his team crowded around him. His gaze went through them, unseeing and uncomprehending. His eyes were too distant, too empty, and too…

…scared. Leonard abruptly recognized the expression. Mick looked scared to death. No, that wasn't quite right either. This was stronger. This was beyond simple fear. Mick was absolutely and completely terrified out of his mind, left in a paralyzed and senseless state.

And that realization scared Leonard in return.

Mick didn't get scared. Not like this. Not to this extent. Not to this state. The man nearly got himself killed from one of his fires, was brainwashed by the Time Masters, and was nearly killed numerous times over the years before metas and time travel got involved in their lives. None of them ever reduced him to this state. Leonard didn't know that his partner could be frightened this strongly.

What could have possibly happened? What happened in the middle of the dark, cold, winter forest that could have scared Mick this much? Scaring him to the point that he was oblivious to his surroundings, barely breathing, unmoving, and trying to aim his Heat Gun at himself?

"Look at me, Mick. What's wrong?" asked Leonard. His voice fought his efforts to keep it steady and even. "What happened? Come on, Mick."

He didn't respond to Leonard's words. Whatever Mick was seeing or hearing, it wasn't Leonard and it wasn't the concerned looks being exchanged by his teammates. Mick was physically present, but not mentally. Wherever his terrified mind had dragged him, it was far away from the frozen landscape around them.

"I think he's experiencing some form of a panic attack." Nathaniel's voice came out quiet and tense. "What could have caused it?"

"How do we snap him out of it?" asked Amaya. "Mick?" She reached out cautiously and touched the side of his face with a gloved hand. "Can you hear us, Mick?"

As Leonard started trying to devise a way to get Mick back to the Waverider so Gideon could take a look at him, he couldn't block out the persistent thought that he should have seen this coming. He was supposed to keep track of all the variables. He should have noticed Mick falling behind. He should have spotted whatever hit Mick with this much absolute terror and prevented it.

Mick was his partner. Seeing him in this state, curled in on himself in a paralyzed and uncomprehending silence, left Leonard struggling with turbulent and discomforting emotions that threatened to escape his control.

Jax hated feeling helpless. He always had. He couldn't stand the idea of doing nothing when someone was in trouble. It was part of the reason that he came around to the idea of merging with Stein in the first place; he couldn't turn his back on someone whose life was depending on Jax for help. And once he gained powers, he rarely felt helpless.

But at the moment, all of them were helpless. Mick might as well be a statue. Eyes pressed closed, jaw clenched, and muscles locked, the man wasn't reacting to anything that they tried. Neither their voices nor any cautious shaking caused any response. He just stood in the snow, absolutely terrified beyond all rational thought. Jax never imagined their resident arsonist being afraid and yet that's exactly what he was seeing.

Nate's description of it as a panic attack, a paralyzing one rather than one that triggered the fight-or-flight instinct, didn't seem to truly convey Mick's current state. It didn't really describe how utterly unnerving it was to see the man like this. And one question hung over them, silent and waiting. What could have sparked this reaction?

Jax shivered as he wrapped his arms around himself, pulling his coat tighter. Then he stopped.

"It's cold," he muttered.

Glancing at his partner distractedly, Stein said, "It is winter in Russia."

But Jax was barely paying attention to the words or the worry and concern prickling over their shared bond. He was too busy remembering. Little details that he'd barely noticed before. Like how reluctant Mick was to leave the Fabrication Room when it was time for the mission. Like how he picked out the thickest clothes available for the era. Like how the last few missions that Mick chose to laze around the Waverider instead of joining in were either set in winter months or were in more northern countries.

Like how the man who nearly died from hypothermia and the resulting complications was now in the middle of freezing cold temperatures and was absolutely terrified.

Time to toss subtlety and stealth out the window. Jax reached out in a familiar gesture. While he gave his partner a questioning look, Stein took the offered hand and the two merged together into a single body. Their thoughts and emotions nearly melted together, making it harder to distinguish where one half ended and the other began. But they had plenty of practice at it.

And at least as Firestorm, the cold and dark didn't affect them as greatly.

Picking up at least a few threads of Jax's thoughts, Stein said, "You might be onto something, Jefferson."

"Let me give it a try," said Jax, answering the unspoken questions from their friends that the transformation sparked.

Moving past most their teammates, though Snart was reluctant to step back, Firestorm took up a position directly in front of Mick. He positioned his hands on either side of the man, just about an inch from touching him. Then, brow furrowing with concentration, Firestorm's hands began to heat up.

It took a lot of focus to maintain the right temperature. Creating fire, heat, and light with their combined power came naturally to them, but they didn't need to burn their teammate to a crisp. They didn't need to reach those extremes. Jax and Stein concentrated together to maintain the heat at a safe level.

Well, safe as long as no one touched their hands with bare skin.

The air around them grew warm. Uncomfortably warm. Warm enough that the melting snow at their feet was steaming slightly. And warm enough that Mick started stirring, the shift in temperature breaking through his paralyzing fear.

For a moment, Leonard felt a sudden urge, an alien impulse that he barely recognized. If he was a different man, he might have hugged the young man. He could feel the uncomfortable heat rolling away from the concentrating Firestorm. But more importantly, he could see Mick visibly responding to the change.

His tensed muscles gradually relaxed. His jaw unclenched. His strained and hissing gasps gave way to desperate gulps of air, like a drowning man. And Mick was shaking. Perhaps partially from the cold, but not completely. But anything was better than the previous unresponsive state that they found him in.

"Mick," said Leonard, trying to reach him again. "Can you hear me? Are you with us now?"

His eyes opened. At first, they weren't completely focused, but they eventually landed on his worried teammates. Leonard moved Firestorm slightly to the side and placed a hand on Mick's shoulder, trying to ground him further.

Taking a step closer, Sara asked gently, "Are you all right?"

Mick opened his mouth slightly. Then he closed his eyes and mouth, shivering a little. After a few moments, he opened his eyes again.

"I…" His voice rough and choked, Mick stopped. Then, swallowing and taking a shaking breath, Mick gave a small nod and tried again. "I'm good."

Leonard knew that Mick was many things, but "good" wasn't one of them at the moment. He was still too pale, too unsteady, and clearly still scared. But he was trying to act normal and Leonard wasn't going to call him out on it.

Sara met Leonard's gaze and they silently exchanged options. Hanging around in the cold and dark forest much longer wouldn't do Mick any good. But they also needed to finish the mission and until they knew more about what they were walking into, they couldn't risk sending him back. Especially since they would need to send someone with him to make certain that he got back to the Waverider all right and Leonard wasn't certain that he would be able to concentrate on the mission if he couldn't keep an eye on Mick. That would take at least two or three people out of commission.

"Rip is going to freak out," muttered Sara before giving her head a sharp shake. "Fine. New plan. Forget subtlety. We go in, find the time travelers and their timeship, and deal with it as quickly as possible. If the locals end up with a few wild stories, then so be it. In and out, fast. Everything else can wait until we're back on the Waverider."

Then she met Firestorm's eyes and gave her head a small jerk towards their shaking teammate. Even without saying a word, her meaning should be relatively clear: stay near Mick and keep an eye on him during the mission. Firestorm gave a short nod.

It wasn't perfect. Leonard would have preferred to get Mick back to the timeship until his head was back on straight and he was certain that his partner wouldn't slip back into a paralyzing panic attack during a fight. But Mick's expression was shifting into something a bit more stubborn and it would take a couple hours to get back. Maybe once they were done, they could contact Gideon and have her pilot the timeship closer. But for now, this was probably their best option.

But they would not be dropping the subject afterwards.

I don't expect this story to be very long. Probably only two chapters. But I couldn't let the subject drop, so here we are. The next chapter should probably have a lot of conversation.