Author's Note: Omigod. Did I actually write it? Can it be that it's finally reached its completion? Hawaiian and the Hunchback's final chapter has finally arrived after who the heck knows how long. Now, if people actually still read this, you might be wondering why in the world I took so long. First off, I was REALLY busy, second off Mr. Muse has been insisting I work on drawing other than writing. Which may explain the increasing number of doodle papers messing up my bedroom and my lowering English grades. Well, anyway, I'm sorry if this chapter sucks. I wrote half of one day, rested for a month, wrote another quarter, then rested for another month, and then I decided today to just finish up the rest. So, I apologize before hand. And, now, if you're REALLY NICE, you'd leave me a review that tells me that writing this was worth something. Just a little begging. READ AND REVIEW!

Chapter 29

Paris lay, nestled in a deep sleep, beneath the blue of a sky lost between morning and night. The sun hadn't risen yet; a slight flow of red and orange lingered in the eastern horizon, marking where the fiery, dawn sun prepared to appear. The familiar cold calm reigned through out the city. Its silence went unbroken but for the old half-timbered houses, who seemed to take deep, creaking breaths of the icy air. Nothing stirred but for the winter breeze, who passed through the city discreetly, its usual howls subtle and undefined, and every few moments it played with the shingles that hung before the many Parisian businesses. The rain that had fallen for the past few days seemed to have faded off with the night.

In a random alleyway, a rat scurried drowsily through the gutter. It had just come from feasting, eating its fill from the scraps found beneath a noble's table, and it longed to make its way back to its hole, where it could sleep with little risk of being discovered.

But, before the poor rat could scamper back to its home, a flash of bright, near-blinding light exploded above it, and, much to the rat's surprise, a little girl, wide-eyed and screaming, rocketed from its depths. The rat let out a frightened squeak, just before the little girl fell onto him. As the little girl tumbled away from momentum, the now unconscious rat twitched one crooked leg.

Lilo rolled along the alleyway, yelling from pain and adrenaline. The cobblestones bruised her legs as she moved along, and her arms, which were raised to protect her face, hit the ground in an unpleasant manner. A moment later, she crashed into a brick wall, and her painful journey came to an end.

Lilo let out a shaking groan, and she rolled onto her back, relieved. She lingered there for a moment, staring up at the sky through the gap between the two jutting roofs of the surrounding houses, the stars blinking curiously at her.

"Why did that landing," she began, asking no one in particular, "hurt more than the first one?"

She didn't feel like throwing up, like the first time, and she wasn't blind, like the first time, but she did hurt a whole lot more coming out of the portal than last time. It seemed that, where she received less of a hassle during the actual trip, she gave up the pleasure of a nice landing. It took her a moment or two, lying with one side to the brick wall, contemplating the pain and cold, before she rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up onto her feet.

Lilo patted away the wrinkles and dirt that her dress had acquired, looking around warily for any person that she might've alerted with her noise. Luckily, nothing greeted her but the morning's quietude, and Lilo let out a relieved sigh. Trailing one hand against the wall of the house beside her, she made her way to the alleyway's edge, which opened up to a square.

Catching sight of Notre Dame standing a few hundred yards nearby, Lilo felt her heart beat faster against her chest. The sun had risen a bit more in the distance, its round head evident between pointed roofs, casting away some of the shadows that lurked about the plaza. Lilo took a deep breath, staring up at the cathedral's twin towers.

Suddenly, the familiar iron voices sang out into the air, ringing from the bell tower. It seemed that morning had not broken until that one point, where Notre Dame's metallic melody echoed through the emptying heavens. Shutters opened, revealing tired and yawning faces, and a few citizens stepped from their houses, ambling sleepily down the way. Lilo watched them, pushing up against the wall, hoping to stay undiscovered, and wondered impatiently just where Stitch was.

Just as that thought passed through her mind, a disconcerted yell broke the silence behind her and a blue creature crashed into her legs, forcing her back down onto the ground.

"Stitch!" Lilo hissed, groaning slightly from impact. She shushed him, a finger to her mouth. "Careful… we don't want to get caught by Frollo again."

Stitch nodded, imprisoning many curses in his throat.

"What took you so long?" Lilo asked after taking a few more glances about her.

"Talisman," Stitch murmured, holding the golden trinket before Lilo's eyes. "Maybe, I think, Lilo need?"

Lilo looked a long while at the pendant, surprised that Stitch had thought about something that vital. She needed to show this to Quasimodo, so that he could learn everything about his past, everything that she had learned from Clopin. She took the talisman with a nod, thanking her pet before pushing herself back into the shadows against the wall.

"We have to get to Notre Dame now," she told him, staring at the carved façade. "It's going to take a while to explain things to Quasimodo, what with me not being able to talk to him and all."

Stitch nodded regretfully in understanding.

"Okay, on my count," Lilo began, staring hard at the stairs before the cathedral. "One… Two…RUN!"

The two shot from the alleyway, hurrying over to Notre Dame, scuttling up the set of stairs and tugging hard against the door handles.

"It won't budge!" Lilo hissed. Apparently, they locked up for the night.

"Stitch try," the experiment proclaimed, raising a claw to take the metal ring. But, before he could make his attempt, the door creaked open, a cloaked old man, probably a clergyman, stepping out. Lilo and Stitch twitched in surprise, partially afraid that this man, if he discovered them, would turn them in to Frollo, but, after a few seconds, they realized he hadn't noticed them at all. He seemed rather sleepy, as if he had just awoken, and his eyes were caught upon the staining orange sunlight that slowly crept across the square.

So, taking the opportunity fate had given them, the two comrades edged into the cathedral from behind the old man and hurried along.

"This way," Lilo whispered, padding over to the arched door that led to the bell tower steps. The two rushed up the stone staircase, puffing as their legs began to tire. The way stood long, and climbing stairs wasn't exactly the easiest sort of exercise. But, soon enough, the two persevered, and they walked out onto Notre Dame's walkway. The breeze intensified at the new height, nipping at their exposed skin, turning Lilo's nose and cheeks red.

Lilo led her way around the tower's outside, once and a while rubbing her arms to regain lost heat. Stitch followed close behind. Finally, the two passed beneath the bell tower's Gothic arch entrance, and the comrades huddled for a moment against the stone wall, shivering.

Stitch pushed up against Lilo's hugging her gently, trying to warm her with his fur. Lilo mumbled thankfully to him for his kindness, but Stitch only barely acknowledged her, too busy examining the tower to notice. A system of wooden stairs and ladders led up from sets of platforms working upward. From his post, he could see rats and spiders scurrying along the cobwebbed beams above, and some statuary pieces scattered about. There was something strange about all of it.

Lilo glanced about the familiar surroundings, a shaky smile playing against her lips. She had missed it somewhat, despite the cold and the mildewing smell. Mostly, Quasimodo was the reason she felt nearly homesick for it. And now, she came to make everything better. She would explain everything to him. From why she hadn't come back to the forgotten horrors he had experienced in his infancy, hidden from him by Judge Claude Frollo himself. She just hoped that he would understand everything that she would try and tell him. She hoped he wouldn't misunderstand what she had to say…

Lilo felt a sudden fear slide into her mind. What if he misunderstood something? What if he didn't get what she had to say, and ended up guessing something else? Getting him to understand held great importance, to both her and him, though he may not know it then. What if she couldn't get him to know?

"Stitch," Lilo began, her grip tightening on the talisman.

"Yes, Lilo?"

"I want you to do something for me."

Stitch blinked at her in wonder. "Do what?"

Lilo looked down at the sun-faced pendant, and let out a sigh. "Take this," she began, pushing it against Stitch's hands and closing his fingers about it. "Please, try and give it to Mr. Clopin."

"But, Lilo," Stitch stammered, looking back and forth between his friend and the talisman. He thought she needed it for her angel duties…

"Please, Stitch?" she begged. "I need you to give it to him. Tell him that it's for his inspiration, so that he can make that song that he told us about."

Stitch nodded, though he didn't completely understand what went on in the little girl's head.

"Tell him," Lilo continued, "to make it really good. So that he can sing it to Quasimodo someday."

A slow comprehension came upon Stitch, but it wasn't complete. He nodded slowly again, before pulling away from the girl and making his hesitant way toward the entryway that he and Lilo had just entered.

"Thanks, Stitch," Lilo murmured as he left. She trusted Clopin's abilities. She knew that he could make Quasimodo understand everything that happened.

Letting out a sigh, Lilo rubbed her arms once again before making her way up the first set of stairs to where the hunchback lived.

Quasimodo dropped down from the bells, his face taking its usual, sad frown. More than a week had passed since Lilo had broken her promise, and he still found it difficult to move past the pain and disappointment. It still lingered, though not so intense, and it left him cold and silent. He had left Scrump hiding away from his sight behind one of his carved buildings; he didn't want to be reminded.

The hunchback made his way to the makeshift table, set before an open window, and he stared out at the developing morning. The sunshine trickled barely through the window, the sun not yet high enough to brighten the tower. He glanced up at the mobile that rotated slowly back and forth from the passing wind. He hadn't yet seen those diamonds of light that he and Lilo had wanted to see; the rain had fallen heavily the past few days, concealing the sun behind dark clouds. Though the mobile stood as a constant reminder of the little girl, the thought of getting rid of it presented too much pain for him. He had worked so hard to make it, and he longed to see it beautify his dreary home.

Slowly, the sun worked its way up in the distance, and Quasimodo watched it dutifully, careful not to stare directly at it. His eyes rested upon the dynamic colorful wash about it, the reds and yellows repelling the cold night sky's blue and fading away the shimmering stars. It wouldn't take too long until he would see it. His eyes moved for a quick moment back to the hanging glass before returning to the changing sky.

Then, he heard it: a familiar slap against the floorboards, approaching him from behind. Quasimodo stiffened, feeling an uneasy shiver quake down his bent spine. No, he didn't want to believe it. It couldn't be. He remained silent, listening deeply to the tower's sounds. The noise did not come again.

Quasimodo let out a sigh, partially relieved, partially disappointed. For a moment, he had thought that she—but of course not. That was impossible.

"Quasimodo?"

He jumped, and made a swift turnabout, staring down near the floor; he knew that she would stand there.

"Lilo," he murmured.

And, there the little girl stood, staring up at him curiously, her fingers playing against one another in a nervous, twitching fashion. The hunchback reached a hand out toward her, and she lifted her own to touch his. Quasimodo withdrew his hand swiftly, as if he had just been burned by her touch. No doubt about it. She was actually there.

Lilo stared at the hunchback in hurt surprise, holding her hand where he had pulled away, wondering what she had done. Of course, she hadn't come back, in turn breaking a promise that she had made that had even involved collateral, but did that add up to enough?

Enough, she wondered, to make him hate me?

"Quasimodo," she repeated; it was the only thing she knew he would understand.

"Lilo," Quasimodo interrupted, his tone harsh. He turned away from her, glaring off at the horizon, though he didn't truly see it. He wanted to yell at her, wanted to tell her so many angry things that bubbled up inside of him. She had the gall to return after everything that she had done to him… But, somehow, he couldn't find the courage to do it, though he found himself almost begging himself to discover it. Why couldn't he scream at her? Something stopped him.

How could this compassion still exist?

Something shimmered in his eye, and he lifted an arm to shield his face from the light. From behind, he heard Lilo's voice as she let out a long, awed breath, and he looked up and released his own impressed sigh. The sun had risen higher, and it flowed in through the open window, passing through the colored glass. Across the bell tower, the shadows were displaced by the colored lights, which glimmered and danced about the place like a moving rainbow. The dreariness brought about by many melancholy years and the recent days of extreme sadness seemed to melt away, and his temper and the desire to inflict pain and anger seemed to disappear along with it.

Quasimodo took a step backward to enjoy the show more fully, when he accidentally bumped into an awed Lilo. He looked down at her, surprised, and the frightened and sad look in her eyes had suddenly become evident. He felt guilt, and he looked away, moving past her to lean up against the wall and stare at the colorful lights.

Lilo looked back at him, and the lights that had taken her were now gone, and she only saw the man that tried to ignore her. She felt cold and sad, and frustration didn't seem to want to go away. How could she say what she wanted if he wouldn't even fully acknowledge her?

I guess this is pointless, she thought with a sniffle. She stared at him and saw that happiness that took his deformed face, which for years had unintentionally shirked joy. I guess I should go now, she thought drearily, turning her eyes away. I wouldn't want to ruin his happy moment.

Slowly, Lilo took a step toward the stairwell that descended nearby.

Quasimodo watched her from the corner of his eye, not wanting her to know that he saw her. That face…why had she made that face? As if he had acted horribly, as if he had hurt her. If I did, she deserved it, he thought bitterly, the cold and unhappy voice that lingered in his mind speaking up. It talked to Quasimodo often now; the boy had recently lost the urge to fight it.

He looked up at the shimmering glass spinning above the table, the light reflecting so brightly he could barely see the colored shards. His heart felt both light and heavy, a sensation he couldn't understand. A familiar confusion drifted into his thoughts, and his hand moved to clutch his chest, which tightened from some unnamable feeling.

The sounds of chokes and weeps brought Quasimodo back into reality, and still without turning his head, he looked to where Lilo still stood. She was crying…

Stitch scuttled about through the alleyways and streets on all fours, his mouth clamped tightly around Quasimodo's Gypsy talisman. His eyes scanned back and fourth across every walkway that greeted him, searching for the skinny old Gypsy king's bright colors. He made his way toward the Court of Miracles, where Clopin probably was at the moment, but Stitch, eager to return to Lilo, hoped that he would find the Gypsy well beforehand. His luck didn't play well at that moment.

Just as he turned a corner, he heard a slight melancholy melody drifting through the tired city air. The singer sounded rather sad and unenthused, the music half sung and half hummed, as if he or she had forgotten many words and didn't want to take the time to try and remember them. Sometimes, the singer would drift into a slow silence, and a few notes would disappear before the song would become apparent once again as a feeble whisper, which rose only minutely and would disappear yet again. It seemed pathetic, but familiar nonetheless.

Stitch stopped standing near the avenue's center, his ears perking up to catch where the melody came from. Soon, the jingling of jester bells became evident, mixed in with the near monotonous humming, and the experiment twitched his head to look down a narrow lane to his right. And, lo and behold, Clopin Trouillefou, the usually charismatic, somewhat annoying Gypsy troupe leader, plodded down the way, kicking at loose stones and debris that sat in his path.

Stitch scurried over to greet him, standing before Clopin and waving a hand to catch his attention. But, apparently, Mr. Clopin lost himself in his own little world, and it took a disgruntled grumble from Stitch after he accidentally kicked him to snap him out of his stupor.

"Dog?" Clopin blinked, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. "Dog, is that you?"

"Ih," Stitch muttered out, rubbing his stomach unhappily.

"So you did come back!" he murmured, a delighted smile coming onto his face. "I was wondering whether or not I should take you on your word."

Stitch nodded, half listening to what the man said, and pulled the talisman out of his mouth to speak. "Lilo," he began. "She…"

"Oh yes," Clopin interrupted, and the short smile that he had upon Stitch's reappearance faded away. He let out a harsh sigh. "I'm afraid, dear Doggy, that I wasn't able to help the poor girl."

Stitch tilted his head in confusion. "Yeah?" he asked.

Clopin nodded, thinking back to days before, when he had taken up Stitch's rescue mission and broken into the Palace of Justice guised as Frollo. Everything went smoothly up until Frollo had somehow figured things out and sent practically an army to bar their escape. Lilo had mumbled crazily on and on about the bracelet that the dog had told him to give her, and he half-remembered helping her with something that she swore would work. The next thing he recalled after that was her exploding, and she had disappeared.

The disappearance had dazed him, but he realized that she was no longer with him, so, deciding that enough was enough, he made quick work of stripping down the guard that he had managed to knock out, squirming into his clothing, and slipping out through the soldierly mass at the front door. He returned to the Court of Miracles, only to end up almost hanged, for he had forgotten to take off his stolen costume. It took him a while to realize that she was lost… gone forever.

"Actually," Stitch spoke up, breaking into Clopin's thoughts, "Lilo is… okay."

Clopin started. "Okay?" he asked. "But, I saw her…"

"Lilo is fine," Stitch assured him. "She needed…go back home."

Clopin furrowed his brow, somewhat confused. "Go back home…? Was it some sort of trick…?"

Stitch gave him a strange look. "Yeah…" he said at length, scratching the back of his head. "A trick…"

He couldn't let Clopin know about futuristic technology, could he? Wasn't that some unwritten law of time travel?

Clopin smiled, and he let out a long happy breath, as if some relief had taken him. "What a clever girl! Frightened me a bit, I'll admit, but clever… clever!" He looked down at Stitch with his usual wide-mouthed grin. "So, Lilo's doing fine?"

Stitch nodded his head. "She say she want you have this," he said, and he lifted the talisman up to Clopin. The Gypsy king took it slowly, as if cherishing the golden gift that the creature handed him. "Say for…inspiration."

"Inspiration?"

"For song… She say, she want you to sing to Quasimodo some day," Stitch explained. "Make good, okay?"

Clopin smiled. "Okay," he said, and he bowed deeply to the little creature, as if to someone of great importance.

Stitch nodded and turned, preparing to scurry away, when Clopin tapped his shoulder gingerly. Stitch turned and saw Clopin with Lilo's bag in hand, extending it as if to tell him to take it. The experiment stared at it for a long while, trying to remember if Clopin had been holding it when he had caught up with him. He certainly didn't remember seeing it.

"She forgot this last you were at the Court," he told Stitch with a grin. "Give it to her, alright?"

Stitch passed the skinny king a glance before taking the bag with a nod and scampering off on all fours, disappearing finally behind a row of tall houses.

Clopin let out a surprisingly happy sigh, tucking the pendant into a pouch hanging from the rope belt around his waist. He felt an amount of inspiration that he hadn't encountered for such a long time, and he didn't want to waste a single drop of it. So, skipping off into the city that had just awoken to the bells of Notre Dame, he hummed a tune that seemed to have just slipped into his mind with the passing of the little blue creature.

She hadn't ever meant for any bad to come to him. She would've taken everything, every bad, unfair, hurtful thing if she could have, and destroyed them, just to spare him any pain. But, she couldn't. And now, when she tried to relieve her guilt, ease his hurting, she found that she couldn't do that either. He didn't give her a chance; she couldn't blame him either. Enduring all that he had to must have been so hard…

Lilo recognized all of these things. She knew, though she had hoped against it, he would be against seeing her again, especially after her broken promise. And now, she intruded upon him, during the single moment of happiness that he might procure from years and years of sorrow and envy. She only messed things up; she should just leave, she should just leave and let him be happy. But, she couldn't. She couldn't do anything to spare the poor hunchback!

She found herself crying, stopping before she could even reach the ladder that would take her away from Quasimodo forever. There seemed something wrong in leaving him now, after what she had done to help him. As she wept, her brain begged and pleaded with her legs, asking them to keep moving, at least just enough so that she could get out of his sight. But they wouldn't listen…

Lilo felt a strong hand on her shoulder, and she knew without even looking that Quasimodo had made his way behind her.

No! Lilo screamed in her head, wiping vigorously at the tears, trying her best to vanquish them. Now he doesn't get to be happy anymore… why can't he just leave me alone and be happy watching the mobile? No!

"Lilo," Quasimodo murmured, trying to turn the little girl toward him. But, Lilo looked away, down at the floor beside him. She refused to look straight at him, not when those tears continued to fall.

"I was sorry," she sighed, her voice nothing more than a quiet whisper, spoken as if she didn't want him to hear. Not that it mattered much; Quasimodo could not understand her words.

The hunchback's hands gripped her shoulder tighter, a certain amount of frustration evident in its subtle fierceness. And yet, the young man spoke, his words hushed, as quiet as Lilo's. She listened to him talk, though the words meant nothing to her, and felt the sadness and pain that clung to his whispered voice. But, with those things came a kindness, and she could almost hear Quasimodo murmuring his own apologies, crying his own regretful tears.

The words melted away, replaced by sobs, strained and shuddering as if he tried to hold them back. And for the first time, Lilo found the courage to look up, and saw the man looking down, his tears pattering onto the dusty floorboards in a constant stream. For a while the both of them remained silent but for their weeping.

Lilo watched him, her tears streaming down silently, her lip quivering with things that she wanted to say. But, she knew he wouldn't understand what they meant. Feeling the vulnerability of the moment, she rested her head on his shoulders and ran her arms around his almost nonexistent neck. And, she embraced him tight, and cried too, because she knew that he might be able to understand that.

Quasimodo wrapped his arms around her, holding her so tight it seemed he didn't want to let her go. He began talking again, taking deep, shaky breaths between every few words. It seemed like a speech, maybe a confession… Lilo didn't know, but she would nod her head every once in a while to give him the impression that she did. She continued to listen with an intense attentiveness, trying to gather what he meant through the nuances in his trembling voice. Whatever it was, it sounded extremely important.

For a long, seemingly immeasurable time they held this position, Quasimodo murmuring, Lilo listening, both of them locked in a desperate hug. The diamond lights passed above the two of them, twinkling gently in the sunrise's fading red. Lilo moved slightly, and caught a glimpse of the transmitter's glowing green face, and saw, with a sudden drop of her heart, that her time neared ending. Two minutes remained before the thirty minutes assigned ran out.

Lilo pushed away from Quasimodo, staring at the device in disbelief, shaking her head. This came too soon! She couldn't tell him…

Quasimodo looked at Lilo questioningly, saying her name.

What could she do…?

Nothing, Lilo answered herself. She realized that, and she rubbed her arm despondently, glancing up at the watch. Only a minute and thirty seconds left.

"Lilo?" Quasimodo looked at her worriedly, extending a hand to help.

I can at least say goodbye, she thought quietly. But, I don't wanna just wave… it's more than that… How can I…?

Lilo let out a sigh, and a night not so long before spent with Nani on a hammock came into mind. Tiki torches illuminated the dark sky, their flames waving like feathery tufts in the gentle Hawaiian wind. Pink flowers were tucked over their ears.

Lilo opened her mouth, Quasimodo watching alertly, and from it sprang a slow, beautiful melody. The farewell song that she grew up knowing, a sad song that she barely understood, and yet so deeply felt.

Haaheo ka ua i nâ pali
Ke nihi ae la i kanahele
E uhai ana paha i ka liko
Pua âhihi lehua a o uka

Quasimodo listened, his lip quivering, the tears gone but the sadness within remaining, slowly growing.

Aloha oe, aloha oe
E ke onaona noho i ka lipo
"One fond embrace", a hoi ae au
"Until we meet again."

"Lilo?" Quasimodo murmured again. The sound of his voice and the look on his face suggested that he knew what was going to happen. Lilo only gave him a sad smile and a slow, unenthused wave before staring off at the sunrise that continued outside the bell tower.

Quasimodo shook his head. Something stirred deep inside himself, a wistful feeling brought about by the foreign lyrics; he felt as if something was coming to happen, something that he couldn't stop. His eyes did not stray from Lilo's form. He reached a hand to touch her, maybe tap her shoulder, find out what went on…

But, before Quasimodo could do this, Lilo turned round, casting him her final sad smile before disappearing with a light more brilliant than the dawn.

Stitch hurried up the steps and ladders that led up to the bell tower's final levels, Lilo's strap bag hanging off one small shoulder. He glanced at his watch every few seconds, quickening every few moments. About five minutes remained before Jumba's device would force him back to Kauai, and he wanted to catch up with Lilo before then. He didn't know whether or not she remained in Paris. After all, he arrived a few minutes after she had, and he didn't know if Jumba put them on the same timer.

The upward system's last ladder came into view, and Stitch took no time hurrying up the wooden rungs toward what seemed the final level. In the constant movement, the bag had begun slipping off Stitch's shoulder, and halfway up the ladder the experiment had to stop and reset the strap to maintain its place. The clamor and echo of his hands and feet pounding against the steps and treads died away, leaving an uncanny silence to fill its place. Stitch twitched his ear mildly toward the hush, before turning back to the ladder, only to stop yet again a quarter from the top to listen.

A sobbing came to his ear, shuddering and sad. The creature lifted his head to the noise, his eyes resting on the next level's straight edge. It came from somewhere up there. Somewhere up there, someone wept.

Stitch closed his eyes, listening to the mournful noise as it continued to whisper in the cold air. The voice was deep and tired, as if it belonged to an old man. Stitch released a sigh. He had thought for a moment that, perhaps, Lilo had begun weeping again.

The experiment continued upward, his pace slowed by quite a margin, remaining focused on the crying. He stopped once he could peek above floorboards, squinting his eyes as a ray of sunlight passed over his eyes. Once he regained his sight, he saw, with a confused blink, a quivering figure lingering on the floor, silhouetted against the cold light streaming in through a wide window. It spoke, whatever it was, mumbling and sobbing in strings of French words. Stitch concentrated, striving to hear and understand.

"…do this to me? I don't… I don't understand… how could she… she just… she came back… I'd hoped, I hoped maybe, maybe she might… but she… she's gone! How could she…how did she…? Please, Lord, please tell me… please, I don't understand…"

Stitch blinked. Could he be talking about Lilo?

Still listening to the murmuring rant, the experiment silently climbed the rest of the way and slunk swiftly behind a vertical beam, hiding in the shadows.

"She left me… she just left me…"

Stitch's ears perked. "Quasimodo?" he murmured.

But, the hunchback took no notice, continuing to murmur to himself, mourning his losses, asking his questions.

"I told her… I told her everything, and she still… But… but how...? She just disappeared… she's gone…"

And, once again, he took to crying, his head turned to the dusty floor, the faint spattering of his tears strangely audible in the tower.

So this was the man, Stitch thought gravely, keeping his attention anchored on the weeping figure. The one that Lilo wanted to see again. Jealousy began to bubble up again within the experiment as he heard the hunchback's sad, mumbled rant. Through the shivering tones, he could sense love, of the confused and desperate sort, a love that, perhaps, might be more intense than Stitch's for the young girl. The man acted as if he couldn't live without the girl, that her departure would leave him mumbling in melancholy insanity for the rest of his life. Perhaps Quasimodo did love her more than he did; the thought resounded through Stitch's mind for a few moments, and, coming up to join the jealousy, he felt a tiny pocket of sadism. Stitch had Lilo, not this man, not this man who loved her so much.

But then, a few moments later, watching the man cry and shiver with questions and uncertainty, Stitch's anger began to fall to nothingness. Lilo had come back to make the poor man feel better, to apologize for the sad feelings that she might have burdened him with. Lilo had only wanted to make this man feel better. And yet, he kneeled like a beaten child in the shadows, just beyond reach of the rising sun, demanding, weeping, begging for answers. His best friend's purpose, her only wish, despite Stitch and her efforts, had ultimately remained unfulfilled.

Shaking his head, and asking a nonexistent Lilo to forgive him for his earlier ideas, he closed his eyes and took a breath. Stepping from behind the concealing beam, Stitch took a step forward, taking a moment to search for the words that he wanted to say.

"Angels are never gone."

Quasimodo's stiffened suddenly, his weeps halting almost immediately. He straightened his back so that he no longer crouched as if looking upon the floorboards, and, with a slow and questioning pace, he turned to look behind him.

Stitch stood, no longer hiding, looking at Quasimodo sympathetically

The hunchback's eyes widened in both surprise and horror. "What?"

"Angels are never gone," Stitch repeated solemnly.

Quasimodo stared at the experiment for a long while, perceiving the blue creature as some sort of demon that had come to damn him. The man stood up, still looking at Stitch, and backed away, holding his hands before him as if telling the demon not to approach any further.

"What's wrong?" Stitch questioned, ignoring Quasimodo's gesture and making his way closer.

"No, don't!" Quasimodo exclaimed, backing up more until he bumped into his makeshift table.

"You…scared?" Stitch asked, tilting his head questioningly. "I am not going… hurt you."

Quasimodo, though still frightened, noted the gentleness in the tone, and in spite of himself, he lowered his hands and felt himself loosening somewhat.

"What do you want?" he demanded, watching the experiment with wariness, his expression suspicious.

Stitch looked at him with a little irritation, understanding but not enjoying the anger and doubt that this man treated him with. Glancing at his watch before speaking, Stitch noted that he had only three minutes remaining.

"You know," the experiment began, taking a step forward, "Lilo only want you to feel better, right?"

Quasimodo seemed to shudder at the name, and his face looked away, down to his knees. "She left me," he whispered, and Stitch saw a large, melancholy tear drop and shatter on the hunchback's toes. "I told her that I needed her, that I missed her, and she left me."

Stitch blinked, pushing down a slight bubble of jealousy. "You love Lilo?"

"I took care of her," Quasimodo answered with a murmur. "When I saved her, it was like she was my baby, my child. I felt like, for the first time, I… I meant something to someone. Like, someone needed me… but…" More tears joined the first, and Stitch could hear Quasimodo's breaking heart in the shaking of his voice. "But, it's not that way at all. She never needed me… She left… I actually thought… that maybe… she wanted to be here…"

Stitch felt an intense sadness flow over all of the bell tower, as if the hunchback lived in everything that he touched. "She did want be here," Stitch admitted, his own voice quieted to a sad and guilty whisper. Quasimodo lifted his face up, the tears falling, but his expression curious.

"She wanted to be here?"

"Yes, but someone needed her too," Stitch continued. The experiment looked up and smiled at the hunchback gently. "Angels are never gone," he repeated. "Lilo need go home, but she never gone."

"Angel…?" Quasimodo watched Stitch as the experiment spoke, wondering the exact meaning behind all that the creature had to say.

"Yeah," Stitch said with a nod. "She went home."

"Home…?" Quasimodo repeated the words, slowly beginning to comprehend. "Do you mean… Lilo…"

"She will think about you a lot, I think," Stitch told him. He glanced at his watch quietly. "I think, maybe, is time for me go home too."

"Wait!" Quasimodo exclaimed. He reached behind him, pulling a repaired Scrump from the carved city. He approached Stitch tentatively, still somewhat frightened, and handed him the rag doll quietly.

"Please," he said, looking guilty, "please give it to her. Tell her that I'll be thinking about her a lot too…"

Stitch took Scrump with a nod. "Ih," he murmured. And, with a smile, he waved and said, "Aloha!"

And, seconds later, he disappeared as Lilo, and left Quasimodo standing in his bell tower, extremely bewildered. Could it be possible that he was visited by two angels this day? Two angels that looked like a gypsy and a demon… could that be possible?

And so, there it is, the final chapter. I hope you enjoyed the "Hawaiian" experience as much as I did (though I'd admit that I can NOT read through my first chapter without wanting to strangle myself). Is there going to be a sequel? Maybe, a reunion between the two outcasts? I don't know. I'm never going to be sure. But, anyway, I'm going to go work on Sindey City: Winter Troubles after a short break! It's a crossover, and if you're nice to me (or if you actually LIKE my stories, which MIGHT be possible) go and read it, please! Yes, I'm a horrible, shameful person who begs people to read her stories... sniffles Ah well. Now, Review, and I'll see you all some other day, maybe!