Whoops. So, my hand slipped and turns out there will be 4 chapters instead of 3. So expect one more chapter out of this before I wrap things up. :D

Also, now introducing another character! Machine Man/Aaron! A robot that looks and acts a lot like a human! He's fun! I like him.

For now, here's the next part!

WARNING: Chapter includes brief descriptions of self-harm, torture, and super creepy and gross behavior on Madcaps part.

"Ugggh. How much longer? You're literally a robot, I thought tracing a measly phone call would be easy for you," Wade groaned, slamming his head against the rusty old table for the tenth time.

The figure on the desk, currently connecting himself to the computer, glanced scathingly over his shoulder as if just to look down his nose at Wade, before turning his back to him again. "Hey, my servers are fried enough as it is. The Merc's for Money and I just took a job for SHIELD against some weird electric dude and he zapped me too many times for it to be healthy. Even for a robot."

"Pfft," Wade said.

Right, the "actual" Merc's for Money. Because technically, Deadpool, Solo, Slapstick, Masacre, Stingray, and Terror couldn't hold that title anymore. Not since Domino completely stabbed him in the back and took control of the group without him knowing about it.

Well, given the fact that Wade's team disbanded before any of that, but that was beside the point. It still stung that she hadn't even talked to him before taking the name for herself. Masacre was on her team now, but Wade could overlook that. The guy was sweet and loyal and Wade didn't have it in him to be angry with him.

But the guy he was talking to now, Wade could still be mad at him. To any outside eyes, he looked like any other man. Comparatively unimpressive. He had a mound of black hair atop a normally indifferent face. Aside from the insufferable purple body-suit, he wore beneath a greenish-brown trench coat, he looked pretty normal. The only thing that suggested he wasn't another organic shmuck roaming the Earth were the lenses that made up his eyes. It was as his someone hand taken the glass part out of a pair of Arizona red sunglasses and hot-glued them to his eye sockets.

He used to go by Machine Man - kinda obvious, but whatevs - until he found himself a bit of humanity and decided that he needed a name.

"C'mon Aaron," Wade said, sitting back up in the chair. "I'm on a time-crunch here."

Aaron turned back around to scowl at him, "Well excuse me. I don't have to help you, you know. I'm only doing this as a favor," He focused on his computer screen once more, "Besides, aren't you gonna spill the beans on what this is for? You're usually not so reserved. Who's gotten on your blacklist?"

"I...can't tell you that," Wade said, toying with the gaggle of old broken tv parts on the table. "It's for a mission. Super top-secret. Really hush hush, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah," Aaron waved flippantly at him. "The intel's gotta be tight to the chest. I get it."

Wade nodded, trying to pass off the lie in his throat as a cough. He wished it was for a mission. He'd take stealing a few legally binding papers over Peter getting kidnapped any day. Aaron's back was to him, but Wade still bit his tongue and slapped his hands over his mouth to resist the urge to spill the real reason he was asking for help. Aaron would be pret-ty useful in an upcoming fight if his systems weren't so fried.

But Wade wasn't going to push his luck.

Madcap had barely agreed to let him seek Aaron's expertise in tracking the call, and the only reason he had agreed in the first place, was because he liked luring and determining Wade's movements like he was some kind of animal.

Besides, no one else on the team had the necessary skills to do such a thing. Stingray might've been able to with that nifty sea/air battle suit of his, but it'd take longer and time was of the essence.

Wade could still remember the conversation with Madcap like it'd been branded to his brain. Texting him made Wade feel all gross and skeevy inside, like he was plotting with some nefarious ex-lover behind Peter's back (which was ridiculous because a) Peter probably knew about it and was likely encouraging Wade trying to find him, and b) Madcap hadn't actually loved him -which, ew, barf much - and wanted to squeeze every last drop of pain from Wade's body).

Madcap warned him not to give details to anybody else, and Wade believed every last threat he made. If he sat there too long, Madcap was gonna assume he was conspiring with Aaron.

Wade's leg bounced crazily as he played more erratically with the spare parts, ever so often glancing at the clock in the wall. Humming a tune, he stifled the urge to lurk behind Aaron and prob him into moving faster. That'd only end in getting kicked out and left with nothing.

"Could you stop that?" Aaron demanded after a while, lurching around in his chair, "Ugh, you're driving me insane! I'm going as fast as I can, alright?"

"Alright, alright," Wade placated, using his hands to still his legs. Not that it'd do any good for very long. Sitting still wasn't very easy for him. Ever. Every second felt like a bunch of ants crawling under his skin. Or a bunch of centipedes. Definitely something with a lot of legs. Like a spider.

Like his spider, that was being held in Madcap's gross, slimy hands and was in danger of meeting his doom with every minute that Wade used, and shit what was taking so long? Was it getting hot in here? Why was he getting so dizzy? His bouncing returned feverishly, despite the best efforts of his hands to keep them down, and he took a deep breath.

Just as Aaron turned around again, another scathing remark on his lips, the phone Wade had given him dinged and Wade lunged across the table to grab it before Aaron got a good look at the message. The Merc's all agreed to stop texting Fool Killer after Wade had an anxiety attack every time the phone made a noise, and Fool Killer didn't have many friends outside their little coterie. Which meant the message could only be from one source.

(212)731-6520: What's taking so long?

c mon traking things taks time

If ur so eagr, y don t u just send me yur location

(212)731-6520: Because that takes all the fun out of it!

(212)731-6520: No what, I'm decided that you can't use Machine Man anymore. Go on back to our friends and figure something else out.

Whut that wasn t part of the deal

Dusn't that just mak it take longer

(212)731-6520: Shut up, the deal has changed. It's too easy with Machine Man.

(212)731-6520: You don't want me to hurt your little friend, do you?

Wade looked up at the ceiling, muttering long dark curses that would've made Shikla slap him upside the head, before returning to the phone.

Fine.

He shied away from Aaron's curious eyes as they tried to peep over his shoulder and slipped the phone back into his pouch. "Nevermind, A-A-ron," he said through gritted teeth. "Don't needya anymore."

Aaron's nose wrinkled, as he Wade had dangled a dirty diaper in his face. "What do you mean you don't need me anymore?" he demanded, following Wade to the door.

"I mean," Wade said gently, turning to cup Aaron's face, "I think it's time we see other people. This just," he placed his other hand on Aaron's chest, "isn't working for us anymore. People are dying, sweetie."

Aaron slapped his hands away. "No. Not that. What happened to being in such a hurry for this location?"

"Don't worry about it. Like you said, I'm in a hurry. You're taking so long so I'm just gonna scoot my caboot outta here and find a faster alternative. Kapeesh."

"Not kapeesh," Aaron blocked the doorway with his arms. "Why are you acting so fidgety? I know you think you some master of espionage, but I can tell something's wrong. What happened?" His eyes narrowed, "What'd you do this time?"

Wade scowled, planting his hands on his hips. "Why does everyone assume it's something I did. Why don't you ever assume that maybe someone else did the do, and I'm just trying to sort things out! Huh? Is it so hard to believe that I'm trying to be a better guy this time and that I'm not gonna allow the people I love to get hurt in the process? Now outta my way, I-Robot, unless you want to lose that arm."

Aaron stared at him for a long moment, eyes searching Wade's mask as if looking for some deeper, meaningful answer that Wade couldn't satisfy with words alone. A couple of seconds passed and he dropped his arm, allowing Wade to shoulder past him.

Just before he was out of ear reach, Wade heard him mutter, "People he loves?" before rounding the corner and running the rest of the way down the stairs.

<><><><><><><><><><>

"So, you're telling me that you didn't even get a location?" Fool Killer grumped, stuffing his mouth with a large scoop of noodles and vegetables.

"Madcap pulled me out of it before I could get it," Wade said, pacing a line around the mound of take-out piled on the floor and the mercs all sitting around it. "Says I was 'taking too long,' and that it's 'not fun' if he just tells me where to find him."

"Well, we tried. Guess it's time to go home," Slapstick said from inside the take-out box his mouth was buried in.

"And we're still trying," Wade growled, picking up his pacing. "Madcaps just as much of an impatient cookoo as I am. He'll try something soon. I'm just worried that he'll grow bored of having Peter along for the ride."

"Right," Terror said, in a way that made it sound like he totally didn't believe Wade.

How much longer did Wade have to go stewing in this tension. He already scouted the entire block earlier, and there had been no signs that Madcap was there. Nothing. Not so much as a drop of blood. Which was not normal for him. Madcap loved driving people crazy. Just by looking him in the eye, he could cause anybody to go absolutely bonkers for 15 - 90 minutes. More so, the more he does it. If he really did know that Peter was Spider-Man, the sheer destruction he could cause if he made Peter go cuckoo and unleashed him to the city.

Peter could claim he wouldn't hurt anyone all he wanted, but as long as Madcap was involved, that wasn't a promise he could keep. Nobody was immune to Madcaps powers, except maybe Wade himself. Peter wouldn't hold back while under Madcaps influence either. He'd go all out, 100% full spider ass-kicking power.

And as much as Wade would love to see that, he'd prefer it was of Peter's own will and not the will of a mad-man that wanted to cause Wade, and everyone he loved, pain and misery.

A large, meaty hand snapped him out of his imminent panic attack by pushing him down on the couch and shoving a carton of take-out in his hand. "Sentar. Comer. No harás nada con todo esto, amigo mío," Masacre said firmly.

Wade stared down at the delicious box of food and withered. "I can't eat when Peter's out there," he bemoaned. "I'm sick to my stomach, man. Sick to my stomach. I can't even enjoy kung pao chicken." He tossed the carton over his shoulder.

"HEY, WATCH IT!" Terror roared, throwing Wade's discarded food back at him.

"Tu novio imaginario estará bien. Necesitas comer." Masacre said, putting another carton in his hands.

"Just eat it, Deadpool," Solo said, glancing over the top of his magazine. "Masacre's not gonna leave you alone till you do."

Wade groaned loudly, but scooped up a large mound chicken, vegetables and peppers and pushed it against his mouth.

"I, too, tried eating through a mask once," Slapstick said, drooping over Wade's shoulder. "Didn't really go as planned."

"RAGH!" Wade jerked the mask up and stuffed his mouth full. "Ha'yee!"

"Very happy," Solo deadpanned, turning the page.

He took a few more bites before putting the carton on the table and jumping back to his feet. "Alright, carbo-load over. Now, let's scout out the rest of New York, Manhattan, and a little bit of Jersey - but not too much of that one, because, ugh, it's Jersey. I'm thinking, Stingray, you're gonna take the bay. Look for any underwater lairs. Underwater bunkers. Even underwater kingdoms. You can never be too sure when it comes to the big blue."

"What? I'm not swimming in the bay! Do you know how much pollutions in that water?"

"Terror, you take lower Manhattan. I'm sure there are a few limbs out there that might have some information we need."

"Uggggggh, hobo limbs are the worst."

"Slapstick-"

"Nooooooooooooooooooo-"

Wade stuffed a pile of napkins in his mouth. "Shut up and let me finish!"

"Deadpool!" Fool Killer snapped, turning him around roughly and shaking him by the shoulders. "Stop. Geez. It'll take forever to scout the city up and down. I think you just got a lot on your mind. As your reluctant therapist, I'm calling an emergency session."

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to call the emergency sessions!" Wade whined as he was pulled from the room.

Fool Killer sat him down on the cold, concrete steps outside the room, and took the step just below him, hands clasped as if they were about to conduct some shady business deal.

Wade slumped against the wall with his face in his hands, "Aren't you supposed to, like, have a clipboard to write on as I divulge all my emotional trauma on you?"

"I was rushed," Fool Killer said, "I left my clipboard at home. Let's just talk, okay. I know Madcap's return is really messing with you. He didn't exactly give you peace of mind last time, did he?"

"Cause I never gave him peace of mind," Wade sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. "Ugh, this is all my fault, Fool.-"

"Please don't call me Fool."

"-Alright. I admit it. If I hadn't been so horrible to Madcap when he was stuck in my head this all wouldn't be happening. He wouldn't have had it out for me, to begin with! Why am I such a terrible person, Fool? Why?"

Fool Killer shrugged, taking his helmet off and setting it in front of him. "Look Deadpool, we've been on a lot of missions together. I've seen you at your...uh...well, don't know if it's your best, but your not-worst, and I've seen you at your worst. I think this might exceed the worst, though. What's so different this time than last time?"

"Because," Wade emphasized, "I know he's willing to go at lengths to get back at me. He poisoned Ellie, Preston, and Shane using my body as a damn vessel. And now he's got Peter!"

"Right, right, Peter," Fool Killer muttered, hitting his fist against his head. "Sorry, forgot about that. Gotta remember these details."

"Yes, Peter. My very real boyfriend," Wade scowled, "And...and I don't get to see Ellie freely, Fool.-"

"That's still not my name."

"-I gotta get permission from Preston if I want to see her. But Peter...he sticks with me willingly. I get to see him every day. I don't want to lose that." He bonked his head against the wall, slowly tightening his arms around him. "He's the only one nowadays who even puts up with me. I mean, how did I get so lucky? How did he get so unlucky? Who'd even fall for me to begin with? Maybe he fell and hit his head and that's why he actually gives me the time of day."

"Hey," Fool Killer probed him with his finger, "C'mon, let's not think like that. I mean, sure, it's hard to imagine someone other than the queen of monsters willing to put up with you. And, sure, the fact that you have a boyfriend is really hard to swallow-"

"That's what he said."

"-and, okay, skivving off your merc buddies paychecks behind their backs is a major dick move-"

"You are a terrible therapist."

"-And it's not completely unreasonable that most people avoid you because you have a tendency to fly off the handle and attack people aggressively and violently-"

"Are you done yet?"

"But, " he held up a finger, "you do care. Just the fact that you're admitting to treating Madcap wrongfully shows that you're becoming more aware. And Peter, whetherhe'srealornot, obviously means a lot to you."

Wade sighed and nodded, "Yeah. He does."

"Then you just need to calm down and keep him in mind. We've got to save him from Madcap. Focus on him. We'll get him back, okay Wade. We're gonna stop Madcap before he hurts him."

"This sounds more like a pep talk than a therapist session."

Fool Killer threw his hands up in the air, "I'm trying here, okay. I have a hard time thinking of you in a client mindset. You've been a pain in my ass for so long it's hard not thinking of you in any other sense."

"Well," Wade banged his head against the wall a few more times, "You tried. Gold-star or whatever. 2 outta 5. I'll send you my Yelp review."

Fool Killer sighed but got up. "Yeah, alright. This could've gone better, I'll admit. But," he awkwardly put a hand on Wade's shoulder, smiling tightly, "Hang in there, okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. Okay."

Fool Killer squeezed his shoulder and left. Disappearing back into the main room. Wade listened to the sound of Slapstick and Terror arguing over who got the last of the orange chicken, Stingray asking Fool Killer how his emergency session went, and Solo threatening to shoot them all in the head if they didn't shut up. He hugged his knees to his chest and rocked back and forth, humming a tune he didn't recognize.

He appreciated their help, even if he had a hard time spitting out the words. He didn't even care that they didn't believe in Peter. They answered his call when it was the last thing he would've done if he were in their position.

But that didn't help the anxiety tearing through his stomach, chest, and brain.

Just keep Peter in mind, Wade told himself, Keep him in mind. Focus on him. We'll get him back. I'll bring him home.

He took deep breathes to help sell the attitude until he didn't feel like ripping out his own heart. "Alright," he said, running a hand over his head, "We've got this. Pete's gonna be fine. Pete's gonna be fine. Pete's-" the phone in his pouch buzzed.

"Hell," he simpered, taking it out. It was Madcap again. Of course. Fuck, his anxiety was sky-rocketing again. What did he want this time? What did he do? Wade slid the lock screen up and was met with a video.

"This can't be good." He looked up and down the stairs, peeped back into the other room to make sure none of the other merc's were gonna sneak up on him, and with trembling fingers he pushed play, already dreading what he might see.

"Heeeeey Deadpool," Madcap greeted on screen, grin so tight on his mask it made Wade want to tear it apart. "I'd ask how you've been, but I don't really care. I just-" he shook his head, hands on his hips that pinned a long, bloodied pipe to his side "I feel like we've been bashing heads lately. I tell you to do something, you talk back, I tell you to do it, and you give me problems. I've gotta say, I quite enjoy it when you just listen and cooperate." He sniggered, leaning against the pipe. "Hey, you remember what you did to me whenever I talked back? How you," he laughed again, snorting into his hand, "how you'd rip me open and take out all my intestines, and wrap it around my neck like a necklace?" He chortled and slapped his knee. "A real tear-jerker huh? Or when you'd - hahahahaha - you'd cut out my fingernails and make me eat them? You're humor," he wagged a finger at Wade, "you're humor was always your finest quality."

Yep, this definitely wasn't heading in a good direction.

Madcap finished laughing and twirled the pipe around as if it were cane and he was in a musical, "I don't think my pictures are giving you the right attitude," he continued airily, "Maybe we should try something different. So, I thought, VIDEO! Why look at something when you can watch it on screen yourself! Sooooo," he leaned forward and twirled the camera around.

Wade's eyes widened into saucers and he slapped a hand over his mouth. "Peter..."

Peter was dressed in a spider-man suit, sans the mask. It was obviously a cheap knock-off outfit that Wade could've bought at the dollar store, but that wasn't what drew his attention. Peter was back to hanging from the ceiling, with his arms bound high above his head and two large bags of, what looked like animal feed, keeping his legs weighted down. Wade couldn't tell if he was tied with razor wire, but the blood dripping from his wrists didn't give him much reassurance.

Peter looked wearily up at the camera, squinting through his swollen left eye. His face and neck were littered with large, blooming bruises, and in certain areas of the costume, it was a darker shade of red than it should've been. Finger-shaped bruises hung around his neck like a pearl necklace.

It looked as though someone had beaten him with a club, or a bat, or a-

Wade's eyes dropped to Madcaps bloodied pipe, mouth going dry.

The ball-gag in Peter's mouth kept him from saying anything, but his eyes said enough.

"He's a funny one too, Wade." Madcap said, strolling around Peter, dragging one finger from shoulder to shoulder, "He kept talking back. So, I thought I'd take a page out of your book and teach him a lesson." He dropped the bar at Peter's feet and Peter flinched. "Lesson learned."

Wade's eyes burned. He bit into his fist until he tasted blood and took the knife out of his boot and stabbed it into his thigh before he descended into a fiery rage and killed everything in sight. He took deep, rattling breathes that hung heavy in his lungs.

"Look at this," Madcap giggled, curling a hand around Peter's neck. "What a sight, huh Deadpool? He's a feisty one. A good little fighter, even with a broken leg. Or, well, maybe a broken everything now. But still, I'm impressed."

Peter glared at him in the corner of his eye and it made Wade want to cry harder. He's still fighting! Fuck learning a lesson, Peter wasn't beaten yet. Madcap ignored him, or didn't notice, and grabbed Peter's chin, forcing him to look back at Wade. "Look at the camera, Spidey. Look at your hero. Gotta anything to say to him?"

Peter's eyes fell back on the camera and his glare faltered for half a second. All it took was a look at those brown eyes and Wade's heart melted. Bubbling under his yearning for Peter and bleeding because he was in such pain.

"Come on, Spidey. Give our hero some words of encouragement," he squeezed Peter's jaw as if to force the words out of him, but all he earned was a wince. When nothing but spit made it past the ball-gag, Madcap laughed horrendously. "Nothing to say, aye? Cat got your tongue? That piece of garbage not worth saying anything to."

At that, Peter's eyebrows scrunched tightly and he mumbled something fiercely. Its translation was lost, but Wade had a feeling it had something more to do with Madcap, than him. Either way, Madcap laughed and let Peter's jaw go. Only to let to trail over Peter's split lip.

"Hmm," he hummed, lifting his finger to look at a spot of Peter's blood that stained his glove. "You better hurry, Deadpool. The more time I spend with him, the more I see the appeal. He's such a," he put his finger in his mouth, licking at the spot of blood, and smiling nastily. "delicious little morsel."

If Wade squeezed that phone any tighter he was going to break it. He took the knife and stabbed it into his other thigh.

"If you don't hurry," Madcap continued, reaching into the pouch on his waist and returning with a knife, that he trailed it over Peter's collarbone, up his neck, and settled over his jugular. The knife bit in to Peter's skin and a thin trail of blood ran down his neck. "I might have a taste myself."

In a nasty bout of aggression, Madcap grabbed a handful of Peter's hair, yanked his head back so his neck was exposed, and licked the line of blood up. Slow and leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. Peter made a loud noise of displeasure and squeezed his eyes shut, knuckles going bone-white.

Wade's breathing became heavier and his jaw clenched, teeth baring. Yep, Madcap was gonna die. Wade treated him like trash, yes. He shouldn't have done it, he couldn't agree more. But tormenting Peter like this? Not gonna happen.

Never in a million years.

Madcap met Wade's eyes through the camera, pushing off Peter as if he were nothing more than a piece of trash to him now. "You'll know where to find me. One of our first locations in our previous game. Somewhere a beast like you will always belong. Until then, we'll see ya Poolie. Baby boy and I are gonna have a bit more fun." He blew kisses to the screen just as the video stopped and turned black.

"DAMMIT!" Wade roared and threw it across the room. "MOTHERFUCKING, SHIT-FUCKFACE, SONOVA-" he punched the concrete wall, completely obliterating the bones in his hand, and stormed into the other room where the rest of the mercs were looking up in surprise.

"Get your asses up, I know where we need to go," Wade barked, "Madcap's gonna die. Death, I hope you can hear me, cause you're about to get the biggest bastard you're ever gonna see! Come on, guys, I'm not wasting anymore time. Grab your favorite toys, stuff your pants with rice, and let's go kill a bitch."

"HELL YEAH!" Slapstick screech, pulling a mallet seamlessly out of thin-air and smashed the remainder of their food. "LET'S GO RIP SOME BITCHES APART!"

"Where are we going?" Terror asked, sliding his gun into its holster.

"Central Park Zoo," Wade said, already out the door. "And in the mighty jungle, the lions fucking walking tonight!"

<><><><><><><><><><><>

"He'll be here soon!" Madcap sang, spinning on his heels and knocking over the video camera. "And you played your part so wonderfully," he pinched Peter's cheeks, making cooing noises at him, "A real feisty damsel. I think the bruises really add to the effect."

Peter never wanted to hurt someone so badly.

Okay, the guy who killed Uncle Ben still took the cake, but Madcap was really pushing the boundary.

Madcap kicked the pipe away and Peter flinched, absolutely hating himself for it. Getting beaten on wasn't exactly new, but it never failed to unnerve him when his assailant laughed at him while he was getting pulverized to a pulp. Madcap was reminding him a little too much of Green Goblin and that was a bushel of memories he'd rather not confront today.

"Now, on to part 2," Madcap grabbed a pair of wire cutters from the box stored away in the corner and snipped the wire from Peter's arms loose. Peter instantly sagged onto the floor, falling against the bags that kept him down, and stumbling a little to the side. He took a second to blink at his free hands in surprise, before lurching to his feet, and punching Madcap into the wall.

Not giving him a moment to recover, he sprinted forward, ignoring the bags still tied to his ankles, and slammed Madcap back against the wall, curling a hand over his throat and propping him up off the ground. His ribs burned from the beating they took and his arms ached from being held up for so long, but the adrenaline fueling his distaste for this man made all of that easy to forget.

"Oooh," Madcap laughed around Peter's hand, the sound gurgled and strained, but no less authentic. "Someone looks mad," he rasped. "Don't mind me, itsy bitsy spider. Feel free to leave. Door's right over there. You've been to the zoo before, haven't you? You know your way out. But, before you go," he pulled his mask off, flinging it to the side, to reveal a grotesqeue face that leered down at Peter. "Not the worse you've seen, I bet. Deadpool's face is absolutely horrendous, yet you still kiss him."

"Not to be a complete stalker, but I've been watching you two for a while now. I've always thought Deadpool was the crazy one, but you," he tapped Peter's forehead, "You must be insane for dating that shit pile."

Peter tightened his grip on Madcap's throat. "Shut. Up."

"Yes, yes," he wheezed, completely undeterred, "I get it. But before you go," faster than Peter thought he could move, Madcap grabbed the back of his head and leaned him forward so they were looking eye-to-eye. It was so close, Peter thought he was gonna make him kiss him. Instead, Madcap said, "Just look into my eyes."

Peter did. Or he already was. Honestly, he didn't have much choice in the matter.

And now that he was looking, he...couldn't...seem...to...look away...

His grip on Madcap tightened, no so much to hurt him, but because he couldn't seem to let go. He kinda...didn't want to let go. It looked like there was something Madcap wanted to tell him. Something he needed to listen to.

The lunatic grinned wider.

"Good boy," Madcap grinned, keeping Peter's head steady, "Now, listen very closely..."

Whoop-de-doo-da! Chapter 3. As I said, there will be 4 chapters now. So, see you all then! :D

Thanks so much for the kudos and comments! I'm glad you're all enjoying the story!