Title: I Hope You Had The Time Of Your Life
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang, Ripley, Naser, Anon's Dad
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: PumpkinBrain
Summary: Sequel to “It's Something Unpredictable, But In The End Is Right”.
 Many years after his fight with Pseudon, Anon ends up having his and Fang’s dream wedding. However, when he leaves to go use the restroom, a familiar man makes his presence known.
 
  
“Mom and Dad don't look so hot these days they’re getting over the hill!”

 
“And so I says to him, I says, ‘youse never eaten balls like these before!’” Moe shouts over the music, and the table erupts in laughter. I even found myself laughing along, and I didn’t think it was that funny. Moe had some funny stories, sure, but a sex joke? Eh. I mostly laughed because… I think it was just more… the moment, you know?

 

That moment being… the happiest day of my life. And no, it’s not me graduating high school. It’s not me going to a Green Day concert. It’s… the wedding. Between me and Fang. Yeah. I squeezed her hand under the table as I thought about it. Truthfully, I couldn’t believe it. I had finally tied the knot with my best friend in the entire world. The love of my life. I had proposed a few months ago, and finally, the day had come. After high school, after college, yet before any kind of pregnancy; the happiest day had finally hit us.

 

I leaned over and gave her a kiss, and she smiled a beautiful smile at me. She squeezed my hand back and then gave a giggle. God, she was so pretty in her purple dress. I honestly felt underdressed in my SUIT. And this was a wedding. The men wore suits. It was supposed to be snazzy. But whatever. I just kissed her on the snout.

 

“Aww, now that’s just adorable.” Samantha cooed, and I pulled away quickly, my face flushed. The table once again began to laugh, and I even noticed Fang joining in, the monster. Laughing at her own fia-

 

No, that’s not.. that’s wrong. I was.. I was her husband. I was her husband. Haha! I was giddy at the thought. I was her husband. She was… she was now Lucy Mous. We had tied the knot legitimately. Isn’t that fucking NUTS!! Oh my GOD! Haha!!! I can’t believe we made it that far. All the trials and tribulations our relationship had gone through—and we came out on top. The non-binary shit, the band shit, the self-improvement shit… all a struggle, and it all ended up working out.

 

And… I finally got to enjoy the spoils of victory. As I sat on this metal chair at our cute little wine cellar venue, I felt like announcing to the world that I was bringing the destruction of Olympus. Or in ‘not a huge nerd’ speak, I wanted to announce how powerful I felt. How triumphant I felt. Was that normal? I was worried about whether or not it was normal. Lucy wasn’t something I triumphed over—and she wasn’t a challenge I had surpassed. She was my wife, and I loved her with all of my heart. She was the best thing to ever happen to me.

 

So… why did I feel like I had gained such a victory? Why did I feel like I had fought so hard, and finally got to sit down and look upon my kingdom?

 

“Well, now I want more 'cause I'm getting bored, and I'm going nowhere fast.” The music of Green Day played throughout the venue.

 

…oh, well, wait. There was ONE thing I had triumphed over during our relationship.

 

…Pseudon Y. Mous.

 

Piece of shit was hopefully long-gone by now, but it had been so many years since I even bothered considering the asshat. Chances are he was still stewing over his loss, upset and ashamed at the fact that his own son had whipped his ass so hard and dented his pride and joy Tacoma—with his own fucking face, mind you. Yeah. That explains it. THAT was the triumph I felt. That was one of the peaks of my life, winning that fight. I had finally stood up to the biggest tyrant in my life. I had conquered the biggest obstacle I had ever had to face, at least physically.

 

…But now he was gone. I hadn’t given him the time of day for years, and I wasn’t going to start. Never was I going to start. If I could do it, I would ignore him for the rest of my days. But whatever. I don’t want to think about him… so I won’t!

 

I hit myself back into the real world, and gave a smile as Naser took a snapshot of me and Fang together. “Looking good, you two!” He exclaimed as he started to type something on the small device. Probably posting it to Instagram or something. Haha.

 

“Hey, cheers to looking good.” I muttered, and took a sip of lager. Fang flicked me on the shoulder and I snorted, nearing spilling my drink.

 

“You’re dumb.” She laughed. But then, in a show of affection, leaned her head on my shoulder. “…But you do look good.”

 

“Pfft, you kidding?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning my head on hers. “Compared to you, I’m a goddamn caveman.” I chuckled. It was true, after all. Underdressed in a suit, if you recall.

 

“I was once filled with doubt, but it's all figured out. Well, nothing good can last.”

 

“Someone say Caveman?!” I heard Spears shout from across the venue.

 

“My man!” I yelled back, and I heard his booming laugh in response. The rest of the table only gave a light chuckle. Whatever. They would never undastand the bond between two human men. The bond… between two real ones…

 

Anyway, after that little moment, I decided to focus my attention on something else. Most notably, the catering. It was Dino-Moe’s, if you could believe it. Yeah! Dino-Moe’s. My original thought was that it would be cheap crap, and ‘are you sure you want that at our wedding, Fang’ had been tossed out several times; but eventually, I caved. Fang’s Uncle Moe was someone incredibly important to her, so of course she would want to support his business like this. However, something that surprised me was the sheer LACK of pizza. There was an entire menu of Italian food to choose from. It ranged from pasta, to meatballs, to chicken parm, and even to this soup called ‘Italian wedding’. Moe had prepared it all by hand, and even though he wasn’t handing it out, when it was first rolled out he was the one to list all of the food and present it nicely. He wasn’t even wearing his apron—he was that confident. It was super impressive, and I was incredibly thankful to Moe for being able to make our day all the more special.

 

It was honestly beautiful, the way things had turned out today. This was truthfully the best day of my life.

 

I took another sip of lager. It was good. Yuengling, which I felt was only appropriate, given it was the first beer I had ever had. It’s associated with a childhood marking, and now, an adult one. Speaking of lager, though, this beer was beginning to show its effects. Figured I’d take my chance now, before anyone else ended up having to go and crowding the place. So, I whistled, and Fang turned her head to me. “I’m going to go take a leak. Keep my seat for me?”

 

Fang cringed. “Gross!” She said, and then laughed. “And I don’t think they’re allowed to steal your spot, but whatever, dweeb. I’ll watch your seat.”

 

“Thanks, sweet tooth.” I said, and stood up before I could face her embarrassed wrath. I found myself giggling as I dodged an ice cube she had thrown at me, and quickly snuck out of the venue.

 

When I felt the cool air hit me, I turned around to face the building. All in all, it was a beautiful little spot. It was a large house-like structure that seemed to be made entirely of wood, and was painted warm colors, though I couldn’t see them now due to the darkness outside. But take my word for it, shit was tight. I was honestly surprised when Fang approached me with fliers for this place. When we were planning out the wedding, I expected her to say we should get married at a rock concert or something. And I would’ve been down for that. But when she showed me this place, Amador Cellars, I just couldn’t resist. It was a picture-perfect wedding, and that’s what she said she wanted. In her words, she ‘had tried to be unique for so long, but was tired of it, and just wanted to be a wife for a day’. And… I guess I couldn’t blame her.

 

…But the promise I made her agree to, the one that stated she would turn back into Fang by the time we got back home, was one I intended to stick by. I could only call her Lucy for so long. Haha.

 

After that, I began to walk backwards as I looked at the building. The bathrooms were just across the street, and I’m sure I would hit them eventually. I didn’t feel the need to look as I crossed the street, either. Nobody came through this area—it was dead to everyone except for us. No cars would be driving this late, and nobody would be driving on this road. I wasn’t in danger of being struck by a Kia Telluride.

 

…well, at least, that’s what I thought.

 

SCREEEEEEEEEE

 

WHAM

 

I felt myself rolling over the hood of a car as it slammed into me. The pain was unimaginable, and I felt hot and destroyed as I landed in the bed. Not sexually, by the way. I’m pretty sure I heard various bones snapping and cracking. Almost immediately, I tried to sit up, but the hard feeling of the bed I was in was something I couldn’t quite fathom just yet. I was having a hard time comprehending, and I was seeing stars. Wait, the bed. The bed?

 

…Fuck. I got hit by a fucking truck.

 

I could still barely comprehend things before the tailgate was unlatched and someone grabbed me. My only thought was how rough they were being before I ended up thrown on the ground. The wind was knocked out of me once again, and… I felt blood in my throat. Who the fuck was doing this? What kind of person hits someone and then throws them on the ground like they’re a sack of potatoes?

 

“I knew it was you, you motherFUCKER!” I heard a familiar voice yell as a boot slammed into my chest. Yep, another crack.

 

Fuck. Fuck! Everything was hurting, and it was hurting BAD. Who the fuck was trying to kill me? I couldn’t even fight back. I was barely conscious as it was.

 

However, when this mystery person sat on me and wrapped their hands around my neck, I kicked myself into gear. I had to fight back. I can’t die here. I’m too young—and, and I—I can’t leave Fang behind. I can’t leave my friends behind. I can’t leave mom and dad behind.

 

I grabbed the person’s hands, and began to struggle against them. Their grip was weak, and their speech slurred. They were probably drunk. Either that or high. They weren’t in the right headspace—even with my injuries, I had a chance here.

 

Thinking quickly, I hocked a loogie at their face. They instantly let go of my neck, and I began to cough as I quickly crawled away. “Fuck. Fuck. Holy shit.” I choked, trying my hardest to ignore how much everything hurt. I would much rather have pain for a little while over a slow death. “God damn it.” I spit, putting my hand down on the ground as I raised myself up.

 

I turned around to face whoever it was that was trying to kill me, and, unfortunately, I had no luck. It was too dark outside, and the truck that this person was driving didn’t have its headlights on—either they (the driver) turned them off, they (the headlights) broke, or they had never turned them on in the first place. It could’ve been any of those things. I didn’t know, and I didn’t necessarily care, but… I had to know who it was. I was still too disoriented to hear their voice properly, but I would figure something out. I had to know who had such a grudge against me. So much so that they would attempt vehicular manslaughter. Surely I hadn’t pissed anyone off THAT much, right?

 

Well, I… had one idea. But that was impossible. I kicked his ass. He would’ve never come back.

 

Except… for revenge. In the form of murder.

 

“…fuck.” I whispered. God damn it. Where’s my fucking gun? “It can’t be him. It can’t be.” I whispered to myself, patting my chest. Where’s my gun?

 

“Can’t be who, Boy?”

 

I felt like I had gotten punched. I might as well have, anyway. But this was metaphor speak. I had been punched in the fucking face by that word. Nobody… nobody I knew called me that. Nobody HAD called me that. Not since…

 

I was furiously looking for my gun now. Where the fuck was it? It was in my jacket pocket. That was where Ripley told me to keep it. THAT’S WHERE I—

 

“Cat got your tongue, motherfucker?” Pseudon yelled. “Or wait, no. I know what you’re looking for.” He laughed, and pulled out a familiar black handle. “Gonna shoot your own dad?”

 

I watched as he threw the Luger LC9 far off and into some bushes, like it was a goddamn football or something. A round shot off, but it didn’t hit anything. Though it did trigger my fight or flight. It was already something I was experiencing, but now it was heightened. I was… I was fucked. I didn’t have a gun anymore, my ribs were broken, I’m pretty sure I had fractured my collar bone, and, like last time, my nose was bleeding.

 

But I still had room to be defiant. “You’re not my dad. I have a dad.” I spat.

 

He growled. “Yeah, we’re even now, Boy.” The old man said, speaking through his teeth. He then laughed, and cracked his knuckles. “You up for round two? Or did that ptero-whore make you soft?”

 

All I did was stand there, and pull out my cell phone. But I didn’t call 911. I just turned on the flashlight and threw it to the ground. I could see it. It really was him. However, I continued to stand there. But… not out of fear. Out of pure fucking rage. Once again, he had disrespected Fang. As he always had. And that… what… what he said? Called her a whore?

 

Too. Fucking. Far.

 

“I’ll FUCKING KILL YOU!” I yelled, and charged at him.

 

“GOOD!” He yelled, and took my tackle head-on. We went down to the ground, and quickly, I began to beat his head in. But he kept dodging. Kept grabbing my arms. Struggling.

 

I was seeing red, but that didn’t mean I knew how to fight. I had never known how to fight. Last time I won, I just got lucky. I caught him off-guard. And well… here’s hoping I could do that again.

 

“FUCK YOU!” I spat, when he successfully grabbed me and turned me over. I was now on the bottom, and I remained in a struggle for dominance.

 

“No, fuck YOU!” He yelled back. Real fucking original!

 

But I had a question for him. I was so confused by this turn of events. I didn’t really have any time to think to myself, only feeling the need to survive, but I still had to ask.

 

“Why are you even HERE!” I yelled out, flipping him on his backside. I threw a punch at his head, and it connected. “HOW DID YOU FIND ME!”

 

“FIND YOU?!” He laughed. “IT WASN’T HARD! I’VE BEEN WATCHING YOU ALL THESE YEARS, BOY!” He yelled out, giving a choking laugh. God, how old was he? And, wait. Watching me? “I—“ He stopped talking to grunt. You know, after I punched him in the face. When he spat blood at my eyes, I wiped them, and he took the chance to knee me in the chest. But I didn’t let him up. “I got my chance when that idiot Dino posted a photo of you and the whore on his social media! He tagged you with your full name and everything. What a fucking retard!”

 

I punched him again. “DON’T TALK ABOUT MY BRO LIKE THAT!”

 

“OH? YOU A FAGGOT TOO?”

 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I screamed.

 

I continued wailing on him, punch after punch after punch. After the fourth punch, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Everything hurt so bad, but I couldn’t believe I had ended up in this situation again. On what was supposed to be such a good day, I was once again beating the shit out of Pseudon. Why did this always happen?

 

“Because you keep bringing it upon yourself, BOY!” He yelled, and pushed me completely off of him. I rolled for a few seconds before jumping back up to my feet. Through my blurred vision, I could see him adjusting his jaw. “First, you date the whore. Next, you embarrass me in front of my wife. And then,” He threw a punch, and it hit. I went stumbling back as more blood gushed from my mouth. “YOU KILL MY WIFE!”

 

…pause.

 

“W-What the fuck are you talking about?” I muttered, adjusting my own jaw. Fuck. He had a strong hook. “I never did anything to Ramona.” I growled. I would never hurt a woman. Not even her.

 

“YOU WILL NOT SAY HER NAME!” He yelled, and threw a right. I dodged it, and returned with my own gut-punch. He spit out blood, and kneed me in the chest quickly. “IT’S YOUR FAULT SHE’S DEAD! YOU CAUSED THAT CAR ACCIDENT!”

 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT, YOU CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER?!” I yelled out. My voice was becoming hoarse, but I kept talking. I was no longer throwing punches, though. I was just flailing my arms out. I wanted to fucking know.

 

“You—the doctors say it was a concussion.” He suddenly looked sad. Like a flipped switch. What the fuck? “I got in an accident on the way back from that shitty apartment of yours. I lived, but the love of my life, Ramona, she… she didn’t make it.” He breathed heavily, wiping his bleeding nose. It smeared blood across his face, and the phone’s shitty flashlight made it look like a scene out of a horror movie.

 

“…w-what?” I asked, breathing heavily. She… she died? Ramona was dead? “Mom is dead?” I whispered.

 

I… I didn’t consider her my mom. Not anymore. But… it was still hard to hear about her passing. She had raised me, after all.

 

“Oh, finally showing her some respect, eh?” Pseudon muttered, and spit out more blood. God damn it. I felt the need to spit blood out, too. “Too late, Dino-fucker.”

 

He charged me again, and I was left dumbfounded as he landed a perfect punch into my solar-plexus. I lost all the wind in my body for the third time that night as I clutched at my stomach, desperately trying to get air into my body. Fuck. I showed weakness. He had used his opportunity well.

 

I wasn’t expecting good things when my knee was kicked in. I knew what was coming. “How about some NOSTALGIA!” I heard, before my head whipped to the side.

 

…a haymaker. I had fallen victim to the haymaker. I felt my body slam heavily into the dirt, and I just… couldn’t see myself getting back up. He got me. My head was pounding, my body was weak, and I… I couldn’t go on. Getting hit to the dirt was preferable to a Toyota Tacoma, but…

 

I lost.

 

I felt a boot slam into my back. He wasn’t done. “This ones… for RAMONA!” A kick to the head. “This ones… for my TACOMA!” A kick to the broken leg. “And THIS!” He put his boot to my head, and raised it up. “Is for ROBBING ME OF A SON!” He slammed it down, and I felt myself nearly lose consciousness. He sounded underwater as he spoke his last words.

 

“You… ANIME-WATCHING… SHITPOSTING… INVOLUNTARILY CELIBATE… DINO-FUCKER!” He raised his boot one last time, and I expected it to come down hard and… frankly, end my life. I expected his boot to go right through my head.

 

What I didn’t expect, however, was the gunshot.

 

BANG

 

There was silence for a few moments. Before…

 

“AAAAAAGHHHHHAHAHAHAARRRRHHHHH!”

 

Pseudon screamed as he fell to the ground. It sounded so faint to me, but so… satisfying. Someone had landed a dead-ringer on him. A killing blow or not, he wasn’t going to get up after that. I smiled at that as I felt the consciousness slowly leave me. It was a nice feeling, and a nice sound, Pseudon’s screaming. And his pain. I truly loved hearing that man hurt. However; I wasn’t going to be thinking for much longer.

 

The yelling of ‘HONEY!’ and ‘SON!’ were the last things I heard before the blackness overtook me.

 

But. Hey.

 

I guess I won.

 

((((((()))))))

 

I woke up in the hospital feeling like I got hit by a fucking truck. Which, I guess wasn’t a lie. Wait, no. It was just the absolute truth. I had gotten hit by a truck. I had gotten slammed into the pavement and had my shit kicked in. Which was fucking… cool. In a sarcastic manner. If that’s not obvious. Who the fuck wants to get hit by a truck… Anyway, the blinding lights of the hospital bothered me as I slowly opened my eyes. God damn it. I always hated hospitals, you know? They’re just so bright. So sad and so bright. Who needs a bright-white room as soon as they wake up? Definitely not me.

 

I rubbed my jaw as I yawned, feeling the stubble that had grown. Huh. Odd. I swear I remember shaving before the wedding. Oh well, probably just misremembering. Either that or I’m not feeling my face properly. Maybe there’s just dried blood on it, or something. That was perfectly feasible, given how often me and Pseudon had been spitting blood and wiping our bloody noses. We had probably lost a quart of blood purely from spitting it out.

 

But wait, didn’t hospitals usually clean off—

 

“ANON!” A familiar voice yelled, and I had all of two seconds to prepare myself before being assaulted with kisses and a tight hug. “Oh my God, Anon, you’re awake!”

 

Huh? What was she talking about? Being awake. Yeah, I was awake. I had to wake up eventually… “Yeah, I’m awake.” I said, and hugged my wife back. “I usually do wake up after I fall asleep.” I joked slightly, still somewhat confused.

 

“Anon,” she whispered, and pulled away from me. She suddenly looked very serious. “Honey. Do you remember what happened?”

 

“Oh, yeah. I do.” I nodded. I then frowned. “I got my ass kicked.”

 

Fang snorted, and then gave me another kiss. “You did, but… he also did your head in pretty bad. You’ve been in a bit of a coma for around… three days?” She explained, putting her hand up and doing a ‘so-so’ motion. Comme-çi comme-ça, for you French losers. WAIT!

 

“THREE DAYS?!” I yelled, instantly going on high-alert. How much did I miss? How many days of work? How much debt are we in? How did the wedding go without me there?!

 

Fang jumped back slightly, and rubbed at her ears. “Ouch. Don’t yell in my ear, dork..”

 

“S-Sorry,” I said, looking down at the blanket. Hmm… very interesting blanket. Definitely more interesting than an apology to my wife..

 

“It’s alright.” Fang breathed. “But yeah, three days.” She muttered, yet kept her smile. “I’m glad you’re awake, though. We’ve missed you.”

 

“I would hope so.” I chuckled. “How can you survive without me, Fang?”

 

She punched my shoulder softly, but then leaned back in for another hug. I hugged back, and then breathed in through my nose. I gave a sniff.

 

…and, nearly immediately, but without any offense intended to Fang, I felt revolted. What was that SMELL?

 

“I-I’m sorry, I—“ The Ptero looked away, and slowly backed away from me. “I haven’t… I’ve been with you all this time, I haven’t been able to—“

 

“That’s… alright.” I nodded, fighting through the pain. “I’m sure I smell a lot worse.” I chuckled. “We can be stinky together.”

 

She laughed. “My God, Anon. Only you would be happy being stinky.”

 

“Well, if it’s with you,” I put on the moves. “I’ll be happy doing anything.”

 

She blushed, and tugged on her collar. I missed the dress. “Shut up..”

 

But then, she crawled back into me, and I wrapped my arms around her once again. It was… nice. Hard, yeah, given I had so many casts and bandages on my body, but we made it work. I would always make it work for her. If she wanted to cuddle, we would cuddle, no matter what. That was just how it was. I lived for Fang. I loved Fang. Insert Chad face here.

 

“Oh, dad wants to talk to you.” Fang muttered, looking at her phone. I guess she got a text.

 

I didn’t remember seeing her pull out her phone, though. Ehh! S’probably nothin’! Little memory loss never hurt nobody.

 

“You mind talking to him over the phone?” Fang asked, interrupting my thoughts.

 

“Sure.” I shrugged. “Mind holding the phone up for me?”

 

“Not a problem.”

 

She held the cold device up to my face, and I listened to it somewhat muted. I nudged her to move it a bit, and then it was a lot better quality. It rang for only a few seconds before the guy on the other end picked the damn thing up. “Hello? Anon?”

 

“Hey, Rip. What’s up?” I asked, immediately recognizing the voice. It was crackly, but that booming tone was one you couldn’t forget.

 

“Ah, Anon! It’s good to hear your voice! How are you feeling?”

 

“Like I got hit by a bus.” I answered honestly.

 

“I can’t say I blame you, son.” He muttered. “You fought hard, you know? But you did lose near the end there. Had me and Luce not showed up and taken care of him, we..” He trailed off, and I nodded, despite him not being able to see it.

 

“I know. It’s a shame, but, he got one over on me.”

 

“There’s no shame in that, son. Not all of us can win.” He sighed. Then he perked up. “But good news! I’ll have you know, that man won’t be bothering you anymore!”

 

Huh? What? “What?” I asked, echoing my thoughts.

 

Honestly, what he said could mean anything. Pseudon was behind bars. Pseudon was too hurt. Pseudon was scared. But the one thing I… kinda didn’t wish for, was that Pseudon was dead. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want him to die. I didn’t want to be the cause of… I didn’t want to be the cause of both my mother’s death and now—his death. I didn’t want to be the cause of that. Not again.

 

“Me and the boys threw him in a prison cell, life sentence. He’s never seeing the light of day again.”

 

Oh thank God.

 

“Wait, can you do that?” I asked. “Doesn’t he get a fair trial?”

 

Ripley lowered his voice. “Any fucker that messes with my family doesn’t deserve the book, Anon. Remember that.” Ripley spoke, his voice somehow even more gravelly near the end. Fuck..

 

“…right,” I said, giving an airy laugh. Holy shit. He used corrupt powers to get that guy in prison for life. “That’s uh… thank you.”

 

“Of course! Your dad has deserved that for a LONG time. I just needed him to show his face in this area, and the deed was done.”

 

I had winced somewhat at the reference of Pseudon being my father. So… I decided to speak up about it.

 

“Pseudon’s not my dad.” I muttered.

 

“What?” Ripley asked. “What do you mean? I thought he was—“

 

I interrupted. “He’s my biological dad. But he’s not my actual dad.”

 

He gained an audible smile. If that makes sense. “Then who is?”

 

“…you are, dad.”

 

I’m pretty sure I could hear Ripley short-circuit on the other end.

 

“I’m… I’m glad you feel that way.” He finished, and then hung up.

 

I looked at the phone in shock. He hung up? Fuck. Did I say something wrong? Was he mad at me?

 

“No, dweebus.” Fang muttered, and took the phone back. “He’s probably crying right now. Do you know how long he’s been waiting to hear you say that?”

 

“Say what?” I asked, genuinely confused. What did I say? Sure, I had put the moves on him, and acted all cute; but surely it wasn’t THAT big of a thing…

 

“You called him dad, Anon.”

 

Never-mind!

 

“And to him, having you call him dad, that’s… that’s like a dream of his.” Fang giggled. She then snuggled up next to me. “You know how jealous he was when you called my mom ‘mom’? He was practically boiling the rest of the day over it.”

 

I laughed. “Oh my gosh. Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve called him dad.”

 

She shrugged. “I just don’t think it would’ve meant as much, you know?”

 

“…eh, I guess that’s fair.” I muttered. I then gave a shrug. “Either way, he got what he wanted.”

 

“He did. And I did, too.” Fang whispered, and gave me a kiss. “Husband.”

 

“Oh yeah?” I asked, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “I also got what I wanted.”

 

“Did you now, oh great one?”

 

“I sure did.” I chuckled. “Wife.”

 

We snuggled back into each other, and I felt somewhat drowsy again. Probably a symptom of a massive brain hemorrhage, or something. Whatever it was that Apricot said…

 

“I love you, Fang..” I whispered, and started snoozing.

 

“Love you too, dweeb. But remember. If this kills you, I’ll go to Heaven and find you. JUST to kill you again.”

 

I snorted. 

[POST-NOTES]
    Woooo!!! Sequel!! Only exists because of how much support the last one got. People really liked it. Hope you guys liked this one, too. I enjoyed writing it.

    Thanks for reading!