Alright, so here is the REAL chapter 5. Still dying in shame from that last stunt I pulled, haha. Sorry to those that got excited :S

This chapter was originally at like ~1.5k, but then last minute I decided to go ahead and add some more (b/c like hey that's too short), so that's why it got delayed a bit! Plus I had a midterm to take care of, so there was that too.

Anyways, despite my initial feelings, I didn't want to actually abandon this story. I remember wanting to finish it when I first started, and I'll do my best to see it done. I apologize if this chapter doesn't feel like the previous ones, I'm not sure if my writing has changed or not ever since I last wrote this (if so, hopefully it's a positive change! ._.)

Enjoy!

When Jim Kirk found himself wondering if his internal clock would be forever destroyed, it was with good reason. In all honesty, sleeping on this planet hadn't come with any positive results except for grogginess and an ecsessive paranoia that perhaps one day he might even end up not waking up at all. It was a strange feeling, not knowing how long he was out for, or not understanding the passage of time; was this the evening of the same day? Or had he been passed out for more than that? Jim couldn't imagine what it would've been like to have slept through days, let alone years. What would it have felt like to wake up only to discover that three hundred years had slipped by? The notion would've been enough to drive any man into hysteria.

It didn't help that he felt almost exactly the same as he had before he'd collapsed against the bumpy rocks, the sharp edges pressing into his spine and skull as he leaned his weight into them: weary, emotionally drained, incredibly hungry, and still slightly nauseous from the hunger, shock, and humidity. A perfect cocktail of terrible things that likely only succeeded in shortening his lifespan.

In the dim glow of the dying light that streamed through the opening of their shelter, Jim saw Khan precariously sprawled on the ground, looking blissfully oblivious to the wakeful world. It would probably be more accurate to say he was more 'knocked out' than 'sleeping', but if the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated anything, it was that Jim would be free from listening to his prisoner's tirades for some time. When the captain's stomach would growl audibly every once in a while, and even when he ever so carefully rearranged the dark figure's limbs so that they wouldn't disturb the wounds, Khan remained unnervingly unresponsive.

Jim couldn't stop staring at this peculiar sight, thinking of all the things he would've done had the soft underbelly of this powerful warrior was exposed as such at an earlier time. Back at the Starfleet headquarters, he would've personally smashed through the windshield of the jumpship's cockpit to rip out the man's throat. On Kronos, the captain would've made sure the man was keeling from whatever 'accidental' injury Jim could've afflicted upon him without leaving any serious marks on his record from assaulting an unarmed man.

And yes, of course augments required sleep; perhaps a smart-mouthed Jim would've said there was no need for any when they've been doing so for three hundred years, but it wasn't as if that was how things worked. This was the man who'd fought tooth and nail against elite members of Starfleet, had destroyed buildings without batting an eyelash and obliterated Klingons like they were mere mayflies. It felt almost... innapropriate, Jim thought to himself, frowning, as if he were violating some unspoken rule by seeing Khan at his most vulnerable.

His fingers twitched at his side, and there was an sudden, inexplicable urge to do something with them, like wrapping them around Khan's throat. Spock's voice floated into his mind again. There is no regulation in Starfleet that condemns a man to die without a trial. He clenched his fists immediately, feeling angry and slightly disturbed at himself; regulations aside, Jim wasn't so consumed by his hatred that he'd be willing to become a murderer. Plus, he wasn't so cowardly that he'd attempt to attack someone indisposed. He sucked in as much air as he could into his lungs, guiltily tearing his gaze away from the unconscious figure.

It was times like these where Jim finally had some room to sort himself out, that the questions (old and new) returned to haunt him once more, this time with more force and intensity than ever. Not only was their whole bumpy landing on this unnamed planet a complete mystery along with the sudden obliteration of the trees, but now he had yet another migraine-inducing discovery to deal with on top of trying not to die every step of the way as he fumbled around like a fool.

Evidently, worrying about an entire ecosystem that was inherently out to get him in every way possible wasn't enough. Now, the only other sentient companion that Jim had on this fucked up world apparently wasn't entirely as flawless as he had made himself to be. No, in fact, it was becoming more and more obvious that he had been hiding slightly more problems than he pretended to have.

When Jim had first met Khan in the bleak, desolate wastelands that was the abandoned city of Kronos, there had been a chilling instinct within his gut that told the captain right away, that this one was dangerous. He remembered fighting Nero of course, but it had been rather different. It was quite easy to pass off the Romulan as a rampaging, 'evil' enemy that needed to be stopped at all costs, but it was hard to relate the same vibe to the throat-drying aura that Khan had given off. Never mind the fact that he'd just saved Jim's crew; in fact, the notion of this stranger fighting on their side had been unsettling enough that Jim had had no room to feel any gratitude at the time. He remembered ignoring that little voice in his head, as magnetized cuffs were secured over a pair of willing wrists, that told him how they were now in even bigger trouble than when they'd been surrounded by murderous aliens brandishing bat-leths at them. That by allowing this man on his starship, he was placing everyone in even more danger than by simply leading them unarmed into hostile enemy territory.

In some ways, that had proven to be true. While the more elaborate details of the story behind Khan's true identity was still largely veiled by the man's naturally elusive personality, Jim didn't need to know his entire life story to remember the sheer damage he'd caused to Starfleet and Earth in many different ways.

But things were different now, weren't they? He was still Jim, and Khan was still Khan. John Harrison, they called him back on Earth. It was a strange notion, but Jim now found himself having difficulty relating the two names together. It was as if they were two different people entirely, one just a mere terrorist who is marked as a national threat, another being an highly calculative, complex being that loved playing with Jim's strings.

Unable to help himself, the captain glanced down at the blood coagulated thickly around the wound over the augment's stomach, already on its way to regenerate new tissue. It was then when he finally noticed Khan's leg, how it was no longer sticking out horribly in that grotesque angle, and instead was aligned neatly like it should have been. Another dull throb of guilt rose in Jim's chest; oh, how he hated that feeling. I should have done that, he mused despite himself; but no, instead he'd forgotten about it altogether when he'd all but stormed out in anger that time. The leg looked like it had more time to mend itself, however, which was better than nothing.

Unfortunately (fortunately?), there was that other small discovery he'd made that was enough to distract him from the anger at his mixed emotions towards his prisoner. While in the beginning it'd been so small within the rest of his jumbled thoughts that Jim had doubted it was actually true, he was now truly beginning to have suspicions about whether all of Khan's injuries were merely superficial or not. Even in the confusion and chaos, Jim had seen enough to remember more than a hazy blur and when he observed those memories again, it became clearer to him.

Had he just simply been unobservant until now? No, that didn't seem like the case. He was pretty sure he'd seen all injuries Khan had received during their mad dash to escape the toppling trees. He also distinctly remembered Bones' tricorder indicating nothing particular when he'd run a quick bio scan. It had only been set to detect external injuries, as they hadn't the time luxury to roll him into medbay and run full, deep body inspections, something Bones would've been eager to have done.

Plus, what good would that have done to them at the time? They'd needed to get to the questions, not ogle at a screen searching for internal complications that Jim was pretty sure couldn't even exist in genetically engineered soldiers.

Now, as they were here, he couldn't help but begin to second guess himself on that last bit.

Just what had happened back then?

He did his best to recreate the moments in his brain as accurately as his memory served. While he was no Bones, Jim had spent enough time with his CMO who treated patients on the spot, that he had a fair idea of what basic things looked like. And it hadn't particularly looked like Khan was suffering from something that originated from a specific source, which made it all the more perplexing. That would cross out any other potential injury that he somehow might've managed to hide from everyone else. It was almost as if the pain was... everywhere.

He'd been on enough missions to see how prisoners were treated in many different ways, each alien culture resorting to a variety of colorful methods to torture their selected victims. Centuries ago on Earth, there was the chair that forced high voltage currents through one's immobilized body. Obviously Khan hadn't been remotely close to being electrocuted or anything of the sort, but it was the only thing that Jim could come up with as of now.

Too many questions and no answers. Jim thought if he could just stop asking 'why' and knew 'why', then being stranded here might not have been as infuriating as this. He wanted to scream.

The barest hint of a cough drew the captain's attention back to the present. While Khan's eyes were still closed, he was now breather slightly faster (and more strained) than before, which betrayed his wakefulness. Jim was certain that his own huffing and puffing would ruin any pretense he'd have put up as if he were still asleep himself, so he just sat there awkwardly, as neither of them rose to break the silence first.

After about five excruciating minutes of wordless tension, Khan parted his lips. "You're still here." His voice was hoarse and raw, cracking horribly and barely audible over Jim's own racing heart.

"Yeah," Jim replied hesitantly, wondering if it'd be considered inappropriate to add, 'and it's your fault, too'. He decided to keep his mouth shut in the end.

"Why?" Well that was not the response he was expecting.

"What—? What do you mean, 'why'?" he asked, frowning. "Why wouldn't I be here?"

Khan was peering up at him with those eyes that were still bright with residual pain, the gaze still intense even in his weakened state. "You left," he said, as if that explained everything. "I hadn't expected you to return."

Jim snorted when he understood what was being referred to. "Come on, where would I even go? Of course I was going to."

"You said you wouldn't."

"When did I ever say that?" he retorted, exasperated. "I said, 'fine, save yourself'. Sounds a bit different from 'I'm leaving and never coming back', doesn't it?"

The augment looked almost curious now, chin tilted ever so slightly so that he could see better. A small bead of sweat rolled down his cheek and collected upon his philtrum. He didn't speak for a long time.

"Being aware of our recent history together and your... frustrations towards me, I assumed that it was implied," Khan finally muttered, blinking up at him and looking as though he was waiting for the captain to react violently. "It appears I have been mistaken," he added almost as an afterthought.

Jim stared.

"So you thought I just walked away," he stated after a pause, trying to digest this new piece of information in whatever way he could. "On my own just like that, because of some hurt feelings."

"It wouldn't have been the most reckless thing you've done, Captain." Jim found no humor at the ill-timed jab.

"Khan."

"Yes?"

"Are you actually an idiot?"

The augment closed his eyes and released a strained sigh. "Kirk..."

"I just don't get it. Am I really that incompetent to you? You don't even know m—look, this isn't just about me getting all butthurt and stomping away like that—which wasn't what I did, by the way. As much as I would have liked to have gone our separate ways, I'm not gonna let some personal feelings get in the way of all this."

"Again, you begin to overreact—"

"No, I don't think I am," Jim interrupted calmly, though his fists were clenched safely in his lap in case they started flying before he knew it."I get that we both don't want to be here, and believe it or not, I do also get that it's impossible for only one of us to leave while leaving the other behind. The Enterprise won't let you back on without me, and I'm not going anywhere until I have you behind that glass again. You think I'm stupid enough to forget about that and just go off?"

Khan, who had begun shifting around in order to find a more dignified position to be in, suddenly froze all movements as his chill demeanor wavered for a mere fraction of a section. "Oh, Captain. I do not think you're stupid. I suggest you leave before you cause any more grief," he said, and he'd spoken a little too sharply and quickly to be passed as mere annoyance. His face was rapidly closing off into a mask of indifference, one that looked too emotionless to have been true.

"And I—huh?" Jim halted, gaping incredulously at the augment, who had gone from listening with an almost serene expression to that empty façade, and then to a sick, clammy grimace all in the course of fifteen seconds. But at the moment, that was not the main thing that was causing his brain to short-circuit. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"I'm sure you're a highly intellectual man," he snapped, and was that... desperation in his tone? Whatever it was, it sounded much like he'd rather preferred to have this conversation another time. "I don't doubt your abilities to effectively analyze our predicament."

"Then what the hell's the problem?" Jim spluttered, stunned and much too uncomfortable at the unexpected turn of conversation.

"Problems," Khan croaked, his fingers twitching as he visibly tried—and failed—to form his hands into fists, "are plentiful. I can tell you're struggling, Kirk. I understand, of course, that it's difficult to stand alongside an enemy that has taken something precious from you. Which is why I say," he paused in his rapid speech for a moment, nose crinkling as he fought off some unknown ailment, "that you are far from foolish."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Jim blurted out loudly, saying anything that came out of his mouth while hoping to mask his anxiety that was beginning to form into something bigger. The thought of how Khan might be doing that exact same thing never occurred to him, and he simply watched the man's face shining with sudden perspiration. "Anyway, it was a rhetorical question!" This guy would never act so beyond his cold character without good reason, and he most definitely didn't lose control over himself. You're fucking scaring me, Jim wanted to yell, screw his dignity. Yes, he was willing to admit, that there might really be something terribly wrong, and he fucking dreaded it.

Neither of them were prepared when Khan proceeded to emit a horrible gagging noise and... vomit. He coughed up bile that was speckled with blood, moaning as his abdominal muscles jostled the wound as they contracted.

"Shit!" Jim felt his blood turn to ice at that exact moment, and he thrust forward to push the fallen man over to his side lest he choked. "Need a doct—Bones!" He couldn't help but yell his friend's name in despair. "Goddammit; what's wrong with you!?"

"Nothing I can't control," Khan somehow managed to rasp in between heaves as he retched over and over. But evidently I had misjudged my own limitations, went unsaid yet still heard by Jim all the same, who was currently rooted in place with shock from the fact that he'd actually been answered. He'd meant it rhetorically, but now the fact that this confirmed that yes, there was indeed something wrong with him, was even more frightening and fuck, Jim almost wished that he hadn't asked.

He'd thought augments didn't suffer from common diseases. Khan was hiding something, there was no doubt about that anymore. But seeing the very individual who'd taken every single one of Jim's punches without so much as flinching, who'd brush off Klingon assaults like they were vermin, in such unexplainable misery before his eyes sent him further into a panicked horror.

"Come on, man," Jim muttered, finding that he'd started patting Khan's back without even realizing it. How many times had their roles been reversed? Too many scenarios where Jim had been on his hands and knees puking his own guts out and Khan, ever the reluctant (and probably slightly repulsed) bystander, had still chosen to crouch to his aid. It didn't help to ease his mind at all.

"Deep breaths," he told him—although he was pretty sure it was unnecessary—while cringing at how unconvinced he sounded. "Like you told me to." But thinking back now, when Khan did so, it'd been with such firm confidence and complete faith in his own abilities to make things okay, that despite everything, it had managed to soothe Jim's frayed nerves slightly each time. And fine; yes it had worked its magic, no matter how curt and choppy the consolation had been. He could admit to that as well.

And now here he was, failing to be that anchor, (physically and audibly) for one to cling on to, failing to give even the illusion of security and calmness to the very individual who would—though he had no obligation to—alleviate Jim's misery during those low times.

He switched to rubbing slow, awkward circles when it sounded like the worst was over, and only moved back when his arm began to really cramp from the tense, continuous movements. But just like he dreaded, Khan just seemed to physically deflate, limbs trembling ever so slightly from whatever strain he was suffering from, eyes devoid of any of the assurances that Jim had wanted to spell out to him.

~*o*~

"Computer, locate Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy."

"Deck three."

Spock raised an eyebrow at this. Whatever the man was doing on that level was beyond him, and while he could assume that the doctor was tending to rightfully concerning matters, it had been precisely twenty three hours and forty seven minutes since their last conversation, and he had yet to receive any word on progress from both parties led by McCoy and Uhura.

Once stepping out upon deck three from the turbolift, Spock proceeded to head towards the science labs, and halted abruptly when he discovered twelve cryotubes lined neatly along the floor, where some of the lab equipment had been precariously shoved to the side in favor of providing more space.

"Doctor," Spock said sharply, making McCoy jump from where he was poring over one of the tubes while muttering at his PADD. "Please explain yourself."

"Jesus Christ," snapped McCoy, flushing as he stalked over to the Vulcan in large strides. "Don't go sneaking up on people like that! Almost gave me a heart attack."

"That is an inaccurate statement as the records from your most recent cardiopulmonary exams explicitly declares you a man of adequate health. Should you be suffering from any—"

"Oh stop it, you didn't come here to lecture me about heart diseases, damn it," McCoy grumbled, waving Spock away. "What do you want?"

"I merely wish to request a status report on your progress." His eyes flitted over disapprovingly to the cryotubes to their side, and McCoy followed his gaze and sighed.

"Look, you told me to do something about this mess, so that's exactly what I'm doing. Not this mess; no, don't you dare start going on about 'unsafe equipment handling', I got it all covered. And before you ask, I had to bring these up here since there wasn't much room in medbay. And I got authorized access from Lieutenant Commander Gilford, so no, I didn't break in either. That'll just about cover it, eh?"

"I suggested you join the investigation alongside Lieutenant Uhura because I am confident in your ability to cooperate exceptionally with your crewmates despite your complaints. I do not recall asking you to remove those people out of the torpedoes."

"I don't think you understand," McCoy growled, once again stepping unnecessarily close to Spock's face as he bit out, "I'm not made to do that kind of work. I'm a damn doctor, and I'll do what I'm good at. Now you told me to make myself useful, so I'm doing what I can in this situation here."

"And what exactly are you working so diligently on?" asked Spock, which only made McCoy's scowl deepen, though this time it wasn't directed at him.

"A few hours ago Carol and some other officers managed to decode the algorithm that kept these tubes operating, even after all that time. Now like I said before, this tech is ridiculously old, and we haven't used this sort of cryptography in ages. You can't just pop in a few numbers and expect the lids to just burst open. Plus I've just nearly lost three guys because the temperature levels went wacky. It's not exactly a stroll in the park," McCoy said, rubbing exhaustedly at his eyes that were burdened with dark, heavy bags.

"I fail to see how any of this is relevant," Spock began, but a withering glare cut him off.

"And, Carol gave me a set of subsystems to override the gibberish—no thanks to you—so that we can actually read what the hell's going on in this piece of junk."

"I was not aware that the Lieutenant had access to such programs."

"Yeah, well that's 'cause she made it herself, ya hobgoblin," McCoy grumbled, though the insult was half-hearted at best. "I only just got it an hour ago. It's taking a while, but it's slowly working and I'll get one of these open soon enough. Carol's gonna work on a better program after we get a sense of what it's like, or whatever those darned programmers do with their nonsense. Anyway, I wanted to take out one of these superhumans and see what they're really made of. I've used up nearly all of Khan's blood trying tag it inside the dermal tissue I've got in the labs but they're not giving me what I want.

"But that's my thing; your Engineering kid wanted me to hand over the decoder once I'm done with it. He think he can make sense out of the transwarp device if he has it."

"As Khan was an active member of human society during the time, he would also potentially be adept in twentieth century cryptography," Spock mused. "You are saying that this is what he used to cover up his tracks and alter the device's coding?"

"Not me, him," McCoy said, jerking his head to a direction that was far from the accurate location of Engineering, though that is where Spock assumed he was referring to. "But I can see how it would make sense, yeah. It's all just speculation right now, but hopefully we'll get something out of it."

"Indeed," Spock agreed. "What is your plan regarding the blood sample of one of Khan's crew members?"

"Well, I'll run some tests on it first. Then I actually wanted to see if I can isolate any of the organelle functions and make a serum out of it. It'll be a damn good hypo," McCoy joked, throwing a crooked grin over his shoulder as he returned to his original working position. "If I really can get it to work though, it'll be invaluable to the crew. Especially with you lot always getting bit and torn up on those ground missions," he added gruffly, shooting the science officer a pointed look. "All going to get yourselves killed one day, I tell you."

"Such outcomes could possibly be avoided if your experiments succeed appropriately. I appreciate your endeavors and will gladly assist in any way I can," Spock said with as much sincerity he could muster in his tone as a Vulcan, earning a reluctant but grateful glance.

"Yeah, alright. Now leave me alone, I'll comm you if I get anything."

~*o*~

After deciding that there was no more reason to stay in this claustrophobic shelter, and that there was no immediate danger outside, the two men had squeezed out of the rocks with great difficulty. Jim had to practically drag Khan through the narrow gap, and once the final leg popped out, the captain groaned and had to lie down for a few minutes, feeling like his lungs were in his mouth. If there was one small mercy, it was now almost completely dark, save for the dim glow of the rapidly fading rays of the evening sun that dyed the sky a deep navy blue, so they were spared from the cruel, simmering heat.

For once, Khan appeared to be sweating just as much as Jim was, which was something he still found to be a hard concept to wrap his head around. When the captain got a good look at him in the dying light, the pristine, orderly image that had always accompanied the prisoner was nowhere to be found. Khan's impeccable hair was thoroughly soiled, unkempt, and sticking to his brow in places. A thin layer of blood and grime coated his skin wherever it was visible, his garments ripped in several places. A dark patch of sweat had darkened his Starfleet-issued shirt, from the collar to the middle of his chest, and his ashen face give him a gaunt, bleak look. It was all of these things that made him look unrecognizable from the individual he'd first landed here with.

Feeling slightly hysterical, Jim huffed with laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. His ill-timed humor wasn't reciprocated, nor appreciated, but Jim simply ignored it. He could lose his own sanity in peace, thank you very much.

The two men were propped up against the exterior of the jagged rocks, which was covered in moss and cushioned their backs slightly. With the memories of the splintering trees still fresh in his mind, the utter silence was almost too much for the captain to bear. Not even a single insect song or rustle of the leaves.

Jim recalled the soundproof holding cells of the Iowa police station all those years ago. Only back then he'd contented himself with the sound of his own voice, or the tapping of his feet and fingers. Now, he felt almost apprehensive at the thought of making noise.

"Are you happy, Kirk?" The dry, crackling voice came abruptly without so much as a warning, nearly making him jump out of his skin. "Is it that satisfying to see your enemy brought low?"

"...'course not," Jim replied once he'd recovered enough from the shock. "Not like this, no."

"I believe you would've given me a very different answer had we been on a starship instead of a nameless planet."

"Well I don't deny that I would love to beat you up properly at some point," Jim grumbled darkly. "But this is different."

"How so?" The challenge was evident in the augment's tone, low and borderline threatening. "We were both placed in the same dangerous situation and I was injured. Surely seeing your prisoner being caught with such bad luck should appease that vengeful soul within you."

The captain swallowed, now unsure if he'd be strangled or not if he actually mentioned the very subject Khan was daring him to address. He wanted to ask, of course, but wasn't certain if today would be a good time for it. "I don't associate you with things like luck," Jim retorted instead, after a long minute of attempting to sift through his words. "You're always so sure of yourself, knowing everything there is to know about me, and yourself..." He trailed off, wondering if he'd gone too far already.

Apparently, he had. He could feel Khan's gaze flickering over to him with a scowl. "Are you mocking me?"

"Definitely not," Jim said firmly, forcing himself look straight ahead even though by now it was almost too dark too see much else. "Look, I'm just glad this whole... thing is finally over." He gestured wildly to indicate their struggles in their little cave. And that you're back to being your annoying self, he wanted to add. Because as much as the notion infuriated him—and ashamed him, said the more rational portion of his consciousness, it had been easier, much simpler, more convenient to picture Khan as just some rampaging, augmented maniac who merely needed a good healthy sentence in prison (and a small taste of his own medicine), instead of as another soul who'd been dealing with plenty of problems of their own, just like himself and every other human being.

Yes, it was hard to call him that, and associate the man with the same name as himself and Bones and Spock and Uhura and everyone else, and much simpler to label him off as 'that augment' and separate themselves from each other in both genetic makeup and moral standards.

In a grey world, Jim could say he was having a very hard time finding a proper shelf for his own black and white opinions and emotions that concerned the augment.

"Oh, shut up, Kirk," Khan suddenly spoke up dryly from beside him. "I can hear you thinking."

Jim just snorted without humor, shaking his head. Though he had to admit that snarky was better than angry, or worse (something he didn't dare think about, as he was barely picking up after his own sanity at the moment). What he could really do with was just one night of full rest, food and water be damned. Perhaps then he'd be able to finally decide what to do with himself and Khan and their green prison. How he ached for one of Bones' hypos then.

Though there were no trees in their immediate vicinity to shield them from others' views, neither Khan nor Jim made a move to relocate themselves to a more secluded area. Maybe they were too exhausted to move a muscle, or too careless to give a shit. Maybe both. Maybe none of the above. While the captain would have loved to entertain the image of the augment waving away vigilance in favor of negligence, one by one his thoughts slipped away until there was nothing left in his mind except for the gaping, open darkness of the air around them.

Tiredness weighed down his eyelids, but Jim found himself unable to sleep. With the other man sitting so deathly still next to him, he could almost pretend he was here alone, with only his own ass to worry about. If he'd been by himself, surely he wouldn't be as mentally drained as this, all physical hardships aside. All he'd have to do was concentrate on keeping himself alive, not sagging against a giant boulder having exerted too much brainpower that he was left with nothing but this buzzing, monotonous void.

By now, the Enterprise was all but a happy memory, only seen in the best of his dreams and always blissfully free of any troubled thought that haunted every other waking moment of his days here.

Reading back on this story, I am now realizing how horrible some of my explanations are to certain things. Like yeah, I'm still pretty clueless when it comes to this science-y stuff, but back then I really had no clue what I was doing, lmao. I feel like some things in particular weren't very clear, and didn't add up here and there etc, so I think I'll probably edit certain parts of the previous chapters and re-post them as well, if only to set some stuff straight. Not sure when this will happen, but hopefully soon.

Also, I now have a tumblr account! If anyone follows my Naruto fic, you most likely know this, but as of now, the blog theme is centered mostly on Naruto (Akatsuki), since that is the story I am desperately trying to finish & get over with before moving over fully to devote my available time to this one. I post occasional updates on chapter progress, how it's coming along, what's happening in my life that'll affect the update time, etc. While I'll try my best to post progress updates on there, I am still in the process of finishing my other fic so please keep in mind that RoS post won't be as numerous as the Naruto ones.

So if you don't care for Naruto but would still like to see updates, simply drop by my tumblr "prussianknight9" once in a while, click on the link labelled "All about 'RfS' ", and you'll see posts related to the fic there. Thanks again for being awesome readers!

Like? Love? Hate? Please tell me what you think; your reviews will be greatly appreciated! :)