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callmeby-mylastname · 4 months

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Lost (5) - Keep me breathing

Summary: If anyone asked you and Tara what you were you’d say friends. If anyone asked your friends what you were, they’d say you were dumbass friends in love, that is until Amber happened and complicated things. Now you’re just a case of could’ve, should’ve, didn’t though.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst

Warning for this chapter: Talks about suicide if that can trigger you in any way, please, don't read.

Word count: 5.6k

First part / Previous part / Masterlist

-Another night that comes undone. You're the one that keeps me breathing.-

Something was missing, she felt cold and vulnerable, and she didn't feel arms around her. Tara woke up and you weren't in the bed with her. She was drowsy from the medicine and you not being there didn't make it any better. Why did you leave? When? How come she didn't wake up?

And then the memories came back. The knife over your chest, the way you held Ghostface's wrist, you saying you'd be right back, and then the terror she felt as you knelt, as you got shot, as she shot you. She couldn't breathe, she felt as if something was squeezing her chest, as if no matter how hard she tried she couldn't breathe.

Her inhaler. She needed her inhaler. Tara frantically looked around until she found it. She pressed it against her lips as your words came back to her. 'Love, look at me,' that's what you said, that was definitely what you said.

You should have said that word four months ago. You shouldn't be saying that word now that she shot you. Now that you bled for her. Now that you...

Did you survive?

She tore the tubes off, not even registering the lack of pain, she didn't even consider just how strong the painkillers were if she wasn't feeling that excruciating pain she felt earlier. Someone had to tell her what happened to you. When she last saw you you blacked out and doctors took you away from her. Someone grabbed her by the shoulders and she tried to push whoever did that away. "Miss Carpenter you have to stay in bed," it was a nurse and she was already calling for doctors.

"Y/N! How is she?" she paused for a moment. "Uh, Y/N L/N, she was shot earlier. Please tell me how she is?" she needed to hear you were alive. You had to be. You wouldn't leave here like this.

"She's alive, miss L/N had a mild heart attack, her injuries are serious, but she is expected to make a full recovery. Now get back in bed and don't tear anything else off," heart attack. Was that what was happening while you were carrying her? The guilt gnawed at her chest, if it wasn't for her you'd be fine.

The nurse helped her back into the bed and probably noticed the look on Tara's face. "Sorry about putting it like that, I should have been more considerate. I just had to answer the same question two hours ago."

Tara looked at the nurse. "W-What?" did she wake up before and couldn't remember it?

"Heart attack and that asshole still tried to force her way to you. Wouldn't calm down until we told her you were fine and even then we still had to sedate her to keep her from reopening her wounds," Tara looked away, embarrassed by the shy smile she couldn't keep off her face and the blush that clearly had no intention of fading any time soon.

"Give it an hour or so and we'll see if there's anything we can do to put you in the room together," the nurse assured her and left as the doctors came in to check on her.

As they checked her wounds and made sure none of them reopened Tara thought back to what you said right before Sam came and saved the two of you.

'Just in case I don't get another chance. You saved a life that had no right to continue. So let me-' you didn't get to finish whatever you were saying, but somehow she knew whatever you were about to say wasn't something she wanted to hear.

There was so much you kept from her, the agreement, as you called it, between you and your parents, the reason behind such an agreement, and now this. According to you, Tara saved a life that had no right to continue. She didn't get it. She refused to make the connection between a 'life that had no right to continue' and your life, but what other life could you have been talking about?

Somehow, as high as she was from all the painkillers, she kept thinking back to one particular moment, about a year after Sam abandoned her.

~X~

Her mom was getting ready again. By now Tara recognized each sign her mom would go out, she recognized the patterns that told her how long she'd be alone. By the looks of it, she wouldn't be seeing her mother for at least two days, perhaps even three.

It's been a year since Sam left, no, abandoned, Tara, and the house Tara lived in felt less and less like home with each day that passed. Her mother didn't even bother to lock the doors, let alone say something to Tara. An 'I'll see you later' would be enough to soothe Tara, but she didn't even get that. She was well-behaved, she did her best at school, she didn't cause any trouble. Surely her mother wouldn't leave her.

Almost on auto-pilot, she unlocked her phone and called you. It rang for a while. That didn't worry her, it always took you a bit to pick up your phone. if you weren't at school or with her you were most likely training, so it took you some time to answer the phone. She counted seconds in her head and then, just as she reached twenty-seven seconds you picked up, slightly out of breath.

"How's it going Snuggle Tar-Bear," despite the anxiousness squeezing at her chest she smiled at the nickname. It sounded like she did interrupt your training, you were a bit out of breath.

"Awful, mom won't be home for a couple of days and I'm so bored," she tried to sound cheerful, to feign being bored and hopefully get you to skip training for at least a day. "Wanna sleep at my place tonight? I promise I won't make you watch The Babadook again," she was sure you'd seen it at least five times by now.

There was a pause for a moment. "Oh, no you don't, we're watching that damn movie. I want to see how many times it'll take for you to get bored of it."

Her smile widened. "You're coming then?" just reassure her, tell her a definitive yes and that's all she'd need for now.

"Yeah, I'll be there in about an hour. I just need to get something done and I'll come over," there it was, the reassurance she needed.

"Great, don't take too long," she couldn't hide the eagerness in her voice, you've been busy over the past few days.

"The longer you talk the longer it'll take me to get there," you were teasing her, but there was a bit of seriousness to that statement, so with a rushed 'Bye' she hung up and went downstairs to watch the TV.

A bit over an hour later she heard knocking on her front door and jumped to her feet. You were there and you looked... tired? It didn't show in the way you carried yourself, but there was a sense of exhaustion in your eyes. "Hey, are you okay, Y/N?" she reached up and caressed your cheek. She didn't like the way your eyes widened at that, as if you got caught doing something you shouldn't.

"I'm here, I'm okay," back then she had no idea it would take four years to figure out what those words meant, back then she just took those words as you saying you wouldn't be there if something was seriously wrong. And she figured that was true because if something was actually seriously wrong you'd be there trying to fix it, not here with her watching a movie and having a sleepover. So, when you stepped in and picked her up, when your arms trembled around her she brushed it off as fatigue from training. When you took a few extra seconds to let her go she explained it by you missing her. That explanation felt good. Someone missed her. Her dad didn't. Her mom likely wouldn't. Sam didn't. You did. So she went with that explanation. "Thanks for calling, I'm sorry you had to," from the moment you said those words that exhaustion she saw sort of faded away and you were back to normal.

~X~

You woke up again five minutes ago and while you wanted to go and find Tara to make sure she was fine you needed to make a phone call.

"Come on, you're not afraid of one phone call," who were you lying to, you were more afraid of this phone call than almost anything in the world. Taking a deep breath you pressed the button and waited.

"Susan Smith, how may I help you," you immediately recognized the voice. You immediately wanted to hang up. "Hello?"

"Uh, good evening, I guess, I'm-"

"Y/N?" oh this was definitely not how you wanted this conversation to go. You did not imagine she would recognize your voice.

"Yeah, it's me, I know it's sudden but I need help. Can I come to Sacramento with two other people? Tonight?" you spoke slowly, waiting for Susan to hang up. She didn't.

"Of course, honey, you don't need to ask," you must have imagined it, or you were too high from painkillers, or something.

"One of the other two, Tara, she has a broken leg and she got stabbed and she also has asthma, and I don't know who else to turn to. So, I need to keep her safe, since the ones that attacked her are still out there and no one knows about you and me and I-" you were just piling up more and more words at this point.

"Y/N, hey, I'm here for you, I'll help," Susan's words made you squeeze your eyes shut, you couldn't cry now.

"Got it. We're in Woodsboro right now, so we'll arrive sometime tonight. I'll text you when we leave the hospital," you despised how vulnerable you sounded.

"I'll be waiting. Please drive safe, okay?" she didn't change a bit.

"Thank you," you nearly cried out. It was fine if you couldn't stop a tear or two, right? Just this once you could let yourself be weak, just for a moment, right?

"Thank you for choosing me," yeah, you could be weak. "It's okay, honey, let it out. It's okay," and so you just sat there, letting all the emotions you felt over the past two days flow out of you. There weren't even that many tears there to cry, but damn did it feel good.

"Right, I'm gonna go get Tara and Sam now. See you soon," you felt lighter, much lighter.

Tara's room wasn't too far from your own, she was like five doors down the hall and you didn't even try to suppress your grin when you saw Tara awake and with Sam. "Why hello my favorite person and Sam," you leaned against the door frame as the sisters turned toward you.

"You're also so high right now," you could see the brightness in Tara's eyes even from where you stood, and Sam, as if in on a secret chuckled lightly.

"There's a joke that went right over my head somewhere in the hall. Anyway, glory to the painkillers," you approached Tara's bed and crouched down. "You okay?"

"You're the one that got hurt, you know?" she said incredulously.

"Meh, details. You had an asthma attack," you replied.

"And you had a heart attack."

You dropped your head down to Tara's bed and lightly clapped your hands in defeat. "And now we're in a who got off easier contest. Well, you better be okay because I'm taking you the hell out of here."

Tara nodded. "Yeah, Sam and I just talked. She had the same idea," well that definitely made things easier.

"I'll just get Richie and we can go to Modesto," Sam said, which didn't make things easier.

"Yeah, no. Great that you're coming with us, but we're not going to Modesto and we are not taking Richie," you put your foot down. How did Sam not realize Modesto wasn't safe for Tara.

"Wait, Y/N-"

"I'm not waiting, Sam. Bastards are after you, right? So they very likely know you were in Modesto before. I'm not letting you take Tara, or go there by yourself while we're at it when it's the second most dangerous place for both of you," you didn't want to argue, you really didn't, but you would if that's what you needed to do.

Sam contemplated your words and seemingly saw your reasoning.

"Where do we go then?" Tara asked.

"Sacramento. I made a call a few minutes ago. Susan is a nurse, she can make sure your recovery is going fine and she'll let us stay at her place. Before you ask, if anyone figured out the connection between me and Susan they'd have to be one hell of an investigator. More importantly, no one in their right mind would think I'd go to her of all people. So it should be safe, or at the very least buy us time to recover," even if whoever attacked you went to your parents to ask where you could be and somehow got them to take a guess they would never make the connection.

"Okay, what about Richie?" Sam questioned.

"One is a male, regardless of how injured I am, Amber, Mindy, Liv, they can't hold me down, and if the logic is that it's someone you or Tara know, well, now it's between him and Chad," you scrolled the news when you woke up, trying to delay calling Susan. So you knew. You knew about Wes and Judy. It hurt, but you had to prioritize. "I don't know about you, I'd rather avoid taking that chance."

Sam nodded. "Let's get going then. You'll need some clothes right, so we should make a stop by your place. Is it still the same address?" she was pushing her emotions back, trying not to consider the possibility that her boyfriend was behind this. You honestly admired the way she focused on keeping Tara safe and nothing else.

"Nope, new address. Some of Tara's stuff is there as well, so we won't have to go back to Tara's place. I'll go pick that up, you get Tara ready and then we get the fuck out of here."

And that's how things went, sure, you were a bit irresponsible for driving in the state you were in, but it was Woodsboro, and there wasn't a lot of traffic, especially this late.

You came back to the hospital to find Sam outside with Tara and two women you didn't recognize, though one looked suspiciously like Gale Weathers. That would make the other Sidney Prescott? Oh well, none of your business. You stepped outside, placed Tara's bag on the back seat, and while smiling at Tara to reassure her you were fine reached down to pick her up.

"Y/N wait," you halted at her concerned tone.

"Yeah?" you tilted your head to the side.

Tara had the perfect 'Are you for real right now' face. "Your injuries," she reminded you.

"Really Tara? You weigh like, a hundred pounds and a potato, a very small potato by the way," you lifted her up and took a deep breath. "Okay, maybe not a very small potato, but a potato nonetheless."

Tara let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan as she facepalmed. "See? I told you?"

"You said, and I quote: your injuries, it's not injuries, you're just heavy. It's a potato that broke the MMA fighter's back or something like that," you reached the right side of the car and only then realized you made a grave mistake. "Uh, mind opening the doors, my hands are kinda full?"

Tara shook her hand in disbelief and tried to reach the handle with her right hand. Which didn't exactly work. "Sam, little help here?" she called out as she looked at her left hand. She wasn't sure she could grip the handle hard enough to open the doors. The other Ghostface squeezed her injured hand, she opened the wound when she was forced out of her hospital room. How bad was her hand now?

Sam was quick to open the doors and you gently sat Tara down. You made sure her leg was comfortable and closed the doors. While you placed the wheelchair and the crutches in the trunk. By the time you were done, Sam was already in the driver's seat. that was a weird experience, seeing someone else in your seat. Sure, you taught Tara how to drive, but this was different.

The moment you got in the car next to Tara she leaned over and rested her head on your right shoulder. Her bag was moved to the front seat with the bag you picked up from your apartment, thus removing any barrier between you two. It wasn't like you wanted a barrier, she just had her inhaler there, so you figured it would be better if she had it near her. Either way, Tara made a different call, so you smiled and eagerly wrapped your right arm around her. In approximately three hours you'd see Susan again and it made you anxious to think how that would turn out. She sounded eager enough to help, but still...

"Are you sure we can trust Susan?" Sam's question stopped your train of thought for a moment.

"Yeah, she's my half-brother's mother," it surprisingly wasn't difficult to say that. There was a time when even thinking about Zack felt difficult.

"Half-brother?!" if you weren't holding her you were sure Tara would have sat up, well, she tried but you were kinda too tired to move your arm and let her do it.

"You didn't know?" Sam really didn't phrase that question correctly.

"You did?!" the painkillers they gave Tara must have been way stronger than the ones they gave you since she pushed her way out of your grip as if she was perfectly fine. Granted, she did lean on your side to do it. The same side that got shot...

"Gah, easy Tara!"

"Shit, sorry!" she winced, biting her lower lip when she saw you breathing through your teeth. Yup, definitely weaker painkillers.

"You okay?" Sam asked as if her question didn't get you in this situation.

You gave her a thumbs up. "Talk it out while I recover."

"Talk what out?" and the older Carpenter was confused. How? You had no idea.

"Did you know, Sam?" and Tara was right back on track, it was probably good that you were in a car and not somewhere she could properly move.

"Of course I didn't, I just thought if someone knew you'd know," Sam immediately corrected her mistake and Tara frowned.

"She's telling the truth, Tara. I didn't tell anyone. Zack's been dead for almost a decade now so there wasn't a point in mentioning him," you decided to be quick and to the point with the conversation. Hoping they'd get the hint and drop it.

"We're here if you ever need to talk, right Tara?" Sam got the hint, that was for sure, and if there was any chance whatsoever that Tara didn't, that definitely got the point across.

Tara did what only Tara could do to you. She wrapped her arms around you and, while avoiding your wounds, and her own, which was actually really impressive, leaned into you. "That goes without saying," she said with so much conviction it nearly shattered all your defenses. Before you could speak she pressed a finger against your lips. "Don't say thank you."

You grinned at that and she removed the finger. "This is really not a comfortable position Snuggle Tar-Bear," you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Also, you were worried about her leg. Sure she positioned it in a way that made it seem okay, but maybe painkillers prevented her from realizing if something wasn't right.

"Don't care. You need me," she mumbled into your neck and you gave in, shifting so the two of you were half lying on the backseat. Your upper back, which also meant one of your stab wounds, was pressed against the doors, but you figured it was worth it.

Your mind was in shambles over everything happening. Tara was attacked, you had a heart attack, Zack died from heart disease, and you were going to see Susan for the first time since Zack's funeral. You were going to see Susan, because you needed to keep Tara safe.

All of that and the memories that came with it flooded your mind. Made you restless.

It was a simple story. You met the brother you didn't know you had, he changed your life, introduced you to MMA, died, and then his death subsequently ruined your relationship with your parents. After his death, your life fell apart, going from arguing with your parents to silence, then back to arguing, then again back to silence, until even arguing ended and all that was left was to wait until you were eighteen.

That was why the discomfort and pain were worth it because Tara made those thoughts quiet. So you closed your eyes, hoping to take a nap.

"Y/N," Tara, though, had a different idea.

"Hmm?" you didn't open your eyes, but she knew you were listening.

"What did you mean when you said I saved a life that had no right to continue?" and, as if she somehow chose this day in particular to learn everything you kept under lock and key, she just had to ask that question.

Suddenly, talking about Zack and your parents felt like an amazing idea and a wonderful way to pass the time until you got to Susan's home. You raised an eyebrow, silently wondering if she really had to make you bare your soul to her sister as well? You liked Sam, you really, genuinely did, but not to the point of wanting to just spill everything to her. Maybe eventually, if she decided to stick around and you got close, but not now.

Immediately, another thought popped into your head and you realized Sam being there was a blessing in disguise. Tara asked you a direct question and if there was one rule you lived by it was that a direct question needed to be answered and answered honestly. Knowing what the answer was and knowing how Tara was going to react you figured having Sam there would be beneficial. At least, with Sam hearing it from you, it would avoid Tara needing to talk to someone other than you about it and then awkwardly explaining the issue without revealing what you told her.

"I nearly killed myself," Tara froze, Sam nearly got all three of you killed with how abruptly she hit the brakes in the middle of the road, you barely kept you and Tara on the back seat. Luckily you haven't reached the highway yet so the car behind you had enough time to stop. "Sam, please, if I have to die in my own car, at least let me be behind the wheel," you groaned, delaying the moment you would have to look Tara in the eyes as the driver that was behind you furiously flipped you off. For once you figured it was a well-deserved middle finger.

You finally glanced down. Tara looked heartbroken, it was the only word that could describe the look on her face. "What?" you hated how choked her voice sounded. So you spoke. You told the story.

There was no way you could ever forget that day. You dreaded the potential of that day ever coming up in a conversation with Tara, yet here you were. All because you couldn't keep your mouth shut. 'Now deal with the consequences,' was all you could think.

~X~

It's been half a year since you made an agreement with your parents. The moment you turned eighteen you'd leave the damn place and never see them again. You'd stop arguing, you'd play the role of their daughter in their sick facade of a perfect little family. They, in turn, would have no say in anything you were doing as long as it didn't tarnish their reputation.

So, now, with fighting off the table all that remained was silence. Silence at home. Silence at school. Silence. Silence. Everything was silent. The only one filling the silence was Tara and to an extent her friend group, but you weren't part of that group. You were Tara's slightly older friend.

They messed you up. Your parents, that is. And now here you were. Lying on your bed. The phone was on do not disturb. And you looked to your right.

To the gun on your pillow.

Thousands of thoughts and questions plagued your mind, yet not a single one became coherent enough to latch on to it. To maybe get you to put the gun back in your parents' room. To forget it existed and keep going.

You sat up.

Why do it? A small part of you wondered. A much larger part responded with another question. Why not?

You reached out and placed your hand on the gun.

Silence ends with a bang. The emptiness will be filled. Everything begins and ends in a single moment.

And then, just as you placed your finger on the trigger, The Babadook theme began playing. Startled, you nearly dropped the gun, but somehow you managed to safely put it away and, albeit with shaky hands, managed to pick your phone up and answer. "How's it going Snuggle Tar-Bear," you hated how out of breath you sounded.

"Awful, mom won't be home for a couple of days and I'm so bored," Tara's voice was a reminder of what you almost did. How did it get to this point? "Wanna sleep at my place tonight? I promise I won't make you watch The Babadook again."

You weren't sure how long you didn't speak, but when you did you somehow managed to sound normal, like you weren't about to put a bullet through your head. You felt the need to throw up as you kept the conversation going. You had to end it, you had to... you didn't know what you had to do.

The call ended and you dropped down on your bed, biting the pillow to keep any sounds from coming out. The fuck was going on with that timing? You somehow managed to set an alarm to go off in half an hour and just closed your eyes.

Your head was empty, your heart beating rapidly as your eyes landed on the gun. Were you really about to do it? Just pull the trigger? What would that solve?

You barely felt the time pass when the alarm rang and you got up, you got up while letting it ring in the background. You changed your clothes, picked up the necessary things for the sleepover, and finally turned the alarm off. You forgot to put the gun back. You were still in a daze when you reached Tara's home. You were still in a daze when she opened the doors. You only snapped out of it when she touched your cheek.

"I'm here, I'm okay," somehow your brain managed to connect the concern in her eyes and the question you barely heard. You stepped inside and picked her up, and it felt like the pieces of the puzzle you didn't even know you were trying to piece together were getting put in all the right places all at once.

You wondered why not an hour ago and as Tara, the same Tara who was already left behind by her father and by Sam, who already had to deal with an alcoholic mother, wrapped her arms around your neck and held on as if you'd leave her too, you had your answer. You had your why not. So you didn't let go as quickly as you usually would. You held on just a bit longer, letting Tara ground you, letting her effortlessly keep you by her side. "Thanks for calling, I'm sorry you had to," for the moment the daze was gone and you let her pull you inside, and when the theme song that stopped you from pulling the trigger played in the background of the movie began, you pulled Tara a bit closer. Tara looked up and you just smiled, silently telling her to keep watching. She raised an eyebrow at that but complied, though you did notice she held onto you a bit tighter than before.

Back then she occasionally fell asleep in your arms, but you didn't sleep in her bed. No, that only began happening shortly after Tara turned sixteen. So that night, the moment Tara went to sleep and you were left on your own, it all just came back. Or you came back to it as if pulled back by an invisible chain. You didn't know. It didn't matter. You were being pulled back into that vortex of desperation.

You were naive. You thought finding your why not would end those thoughts. You thought it would solve everything. It didn't.

it just gave you a reason to cling on. So, you did just that. One day at a time.

When you came back home you didn't find the gun in your room and when you went to the kitchen to get something to eat the silence was broken for the first time in almost two months. "Buy your own if you want to do it," yeah, loving parents.

~X~

"It was a struggle for a while. I'd think I was getting better, then I'd relapse back into those thoughts. One day I'd be fine, the next I'd be punching my way through the day just to stop thinking. Still, it got better over time, and," you paused, taking in the expression on Tara's face, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she kept holding onto you. "...most importantly, I never, ever, picked up the gun, or anything that could kill me, again. Never with that intention."

"Why did you never tell me?" Tara's voice was weak, small, the fingers of her right hand gingerly caressing the back of your neck. "Why did I never notice?" she sounded furious, angry at herself over not noticing sooner.

"Tara, you were already doing everything you could even without knowing about it. I'd gain nothing by telling you and you'd worry and stress about it," also saying something would mean you'd have to talk about Zack as well, and you weren't ready to talk about him now, let alone four years ago.

"Almost five years. I didn't notice anything for almost five years!" she was shaking now. As you feared all of this was too much for her right now.

"Tara, please stay calm!" you could see Sam struggling not to turn around. "I get how you feel, but please stay calm. Y/N is alive. She's doing better now. You've been with her, right? You were kids, that was as much as anyone could have asked of you."

"I wasn't there. For the last three months, I wasn't there," and in those three months, you were feeling lost. Her eyes met yours and you could see the turmoil she was feeling. Her eyes always were the most expressive eyes you had ever seen. "I left you to deal with it alone. I aba-" for the first time since you've known Tara you placed your hand over her mouth. She could say anything else, but never what she was about to say.

"Don't even think that," you warned. "Never think that," you couldn't let her go there, to let those thoughts consume her. "You couldn't know," slowly you moved your hand from her mouth and gently brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear.

"I should have known."

"I didn't let you."

She wasn't quite as calm as you or Sam would have liked her to be, and you could see the turmoil in her eyes, you could feel it in her grip, in her refusal to let you go. She had the same expression she had earlier in the hospital, while she was desperately trying to put pressure on your wound. That got you thinking and without considering the idea for more than a few seconds, without considering her relationship with Amber you leaned in and kissed her left cheek.

You gave Tara plenty of time to react, to say something, or do anything to even imply you crossed a line. She didn't, instead, she let out a shaky breath. "Y/N," there was something different in the way she whispered your name.

"I'm here, Tara. I'm not going to leave you. I'll be in your life for as long as you want me to be," you whispered soft reassurances hoping it would calm her down.

"For the rest of my life then," Tara said with certainty that made you think your heart skipped a beat or two. It definitely began beating faster and you could only nod, not really trusting your voice to stay on your side if the conversation continued.

You'd have to pretend you didn't notice Sam glancing back at the two of you and giving you a 'You're dead if you hurt her' stare when you stopped at a traffic light.

A/N: So, I could have, and probably should have, made the reader, well, you know, not suicidal at one point in her life. I mean at this point this is an OC named Reader. That being said I did name the story Lost and I definitely didn't mean unable to read a map. On the brighter side, Reader is no longer suicidal, just would, you know, die for Tara if needed. Fun fact though. The Reader has successfully and against all odds avoided learning about Sam being Billy's daughter. So have fun expecting that conversation. Also, if any of you are still here, Happy New Year.

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