WHO: Kent Brightstar, Will Moody, Njall Strand, Tony W WHAT: Kent and Will have (very) Bad Days WHEN: May 17 2019, mid-afternoon WHERE: Medical - Brightstar Reserve RATING: Dubious Consent, Mentions of Consent Issues and Related Trauma, Bad Language, Feels
"Don't look at me with that tone of voice. It's not my fault you decided to roll around in stuck-sap. Do you have any idea how long it took to get those pine needles out from your trichobothria? A little gratitude might be nice."
A dozen eyes glittered balefully at him, but Kent just rolled his eyes right back at them. He'd spent all day on the acromantula, hunched over the treatment table as he was forced to go section by section to clean and evacuate the area of all foreign contaminants. His back was killing him and he was starving, but he considered it a good day's work, even if his patient was being an ungrateful little punk. The enclosure rattled a little as it tested the walls, clearly looking for a weakness and spitting mad when it couldn't find one.
Kent's head gave a sudden, nasty throb, and he set his forehead against the cool surface of the table. "You and me both, pal. Main difference here is you get go home while I have to stick around for a few more hours. Some pun intended."
It was the end of his day, which had started before the sun, and Will was tired and hungry. Still, he had one more task to complete before he could find his supper and his bed, and he was nothing if not dutiful, so he'd come over to medical to check on the status of the bicorn -- Justice -- who'd broken his leg the previous day.
The young witch who usually directed him to the right enclosure was absent, so Will had wandered down the unusually-quiet hallway until the sound of a familiar voice had drawn him to one of the doors. He knocked softly and opened the door a crack, peering in. "Dr. Brightstar?"
A low grunt from where his face was planted on (or practically in) the examination table was just about all that Kent gave at first. He managed some words after that, however. Pulled them from some dark recess of his skull that wasn't actively screaming at him. "Hey. You're not transport, but you'll do in a pinch. Come keep me and Tiny here company 'til they get here. His conversational skills are crap."
Will came into the room, though he hung back; even in a cage the acromantula was fearsome, and he had no wish to get very close. "Tiny?" he wondered out loud. "You name the acromantulas as well?"
He watched Dr. Brightstar with some concern; he didn't look comfortable at all, leaning on the table like that, and Will had heard about his mishap with some of the beasts the previous week. He came close enough to touch the older man's shoulder cautiously. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly. "Should I call for a healer?"
"It's so dumb, right? Like naming them makes them any less life threatening." Kent gave a hollow laugh, but had to bite his lip just to keep the pain from manifesting as a sound. This concussion was total bullshit, and the potions had stopped touching it. He was really fucking stubborn, however. And… well, that hand felt really nice on his shoulder. Warm and solid.
He reached up to put his hand over it, to keep it there. "It's fine. It'll pass. It always does." His voice went low. "Having you here helps."
Will's eyebrows rose at the touch, and then higher at his words, and he was very glad the doctor hadn't yet looked up at him, because his cheeks were flaming. "Me?" he said, startled. He didn't quite dare move his hand away, in case that might be rude. "I -- I'm happy to help you, if I can. What can I do for you?"
"Is a neck massage out of the question?" Kent felt his smirk warp into a grimace, and he gave a quiet, pained gasp. "Fucking occamies. My head's been off since that day, and I'm so done. I'm so fucking over it."
He dragged the hand lower, over his chest, held it there with both of his. "Tell me something. Tell me anything. Gotta get outta my own thoughts. Just for a moment."
Will's eyes were wide as saucers now, and he was red as a tomato. "Um," he said, his voice almost a squeak, and cautiously eased his hand free of the healer's. "Dr. Brightstar… I consider I should go and find you a healer. Maybe you should rest."
A god's honest whimper left him as soon that hand slipped out of his. Kent stood quickly and turned to catch that wrist before it went too far. The action left him dizzy, and he had to shut his eyes. "No, please!" it was a desperate sound. "Don't go." He shuffled forward a step blindly, then another, until he was crowded right into that heat that fit so nicely against him. "I need you."
The feeling that rose inside Will's chest as Dr. Brightstar pressed right up against him was a swelling wave of confusion and fear and hot, shameful desire, and he was too overwhelmed by it to do anything but make a tiny sound in his throat, something stuck between a gasp and a moan.
A sharp and pleased sensation lanced through the pain, and, yes, maybe he was brilliant, and maybe this was exactly what he needed. Kent fisted a hand in his shirt and yanked him close even as he tipped his face up to meet the lips of the man he loved. It was deep and molten and off, and the hair beneath the fingers of his other hand--which he'd reached up to tangle in those dark, thick curls--felt all wrong. He made a slightly confused noise, but didn't stop kissing him, because even this was better than the skull-splitting pain.
Another soft, bewildered sound was all Will had time to make before the healer was on him. He'd had two kisses before in his life -- once with Josh, his Stranger friend from childhood; once with JJ when she was injured and he was tempted by proximity. Both had ended badly, and neither had been anything like this, with Dr. Brightstar grabbing him so authoritatively, like he had every right in the world to do it, with Dr. Brightstar's mouth on his like he wanted to devour him, his tongue sliding into Will's mouth shockingly hot and slick and wholly unfamiliar, the press of teeth on his lower lip like a threat. It was all too much for him to process, much less to separate the spike of fear from the spike of lust, and for a moment his hands hovered between them, frozen, before coming to rest on Kent's chest.
Will had been raised in the philosophy of non-resistance, of never answering any situation with any amount of force or violence, and it was hard to overcome that enough to shove at the attacker, lightly at first, and then harder when that got no response. He twisted his head against the possessive hand in his hair, attempting to squirm free of his grasp, and managed to break away from that terrifying, consuming, scorching-hot kiss long enough to gasp desperately, "Nay -- no. Let me go!"
The 'no' cut through where a mountain of physical evidence had not. Kent dropped his arms, pulled apart as they had been, and staggered back a step. He felt wrong-footed and maybe like he'd taken a Confundus to his everything. It played out all over his face, the confusion and doubt. "Tony?"
But...no. That wasn't right. He knew it wasn't right. The treatment room's lights stabbed at his eyes even behind their closed lids, but he needed the visual confirmation of what his neurons had been attempting to relay all this time. It confirmed his nightmare-made-real. "God," he croaked, horror-struck by what he'd just done. The rest came out stilted and clipped. "Will… I--no--fuck."
Will took a few quick, stumbling steps back, his hand going up to his mouth to cover his red, warm, kiss-swollen lips. His eyes were still round and shocked, and his words had dried up after that panicked plea; all he could do was stare at Dr. Brightstar with the taste of him still on his tongue and the churning fear and confusion and helpless lust still filling his chest.
A flood of apologies left him in disjointed words and phrases. "I'm so… I didn't mean-- I thought you-- but I didn't, and I should have. My head. It's-- Will, I'm sorr--"
And that was about the time when he wasn't even sure if his mouth was forming actual words anymore or just making random sounds in a close approximation. Maybe he was quoting Shakespeare. Who the fuck knows. The cacophony in his head was reaching an agonizing crescendo, and the room suddenly tilted up. He may have grabbed at his head, but he couldn't be sure about his motor functions. Was that a cry echoing in his ears? Had it come from his own throat?
The world went mercifully black before he hit the floor.
Between his own shock and Kent's confused words, Will could barely understand what he was saying. He stayed stock still, staring at the healer, until that final anguished cry startled him awake again. He started forward, his concern overpowering his fear and confusion, just as Kent's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed.
Will dove forward to catch him out of pure instinct, lowering him softly to the ground and cradling his head. "Dr. Brightstar?" he stammered, but the older man was out cold. He looked around in desperation, and his eyes lit on the emergency rune on the side of the exam table beside them; he scrabbled for his wand and touched it, and then he held Dr. Brightstar's head in his lap, closed his eyes, and prayed.
~*~
Nearly an hour had passed while Njall, who'd been the one to answer the rune, worked furiously to stabilise and then find out--or at least get some inkling about--what was going on with the young healer. A call had gone out to the emergency contact listed on his forms: Tony Wyrzykowski.
The message had been short. "Come to medical. It's Kent, and it's urgent."
Tony was behind on everything today. It had been a profound disappointment to come back from Wizzywood, which itself had been intense, long hours and a lot more work than Tony had ever thought acting could be, to find that he had all his work left from the three days he'd missed this week, plus last week's awfulness, and no one had helpfully organized everything for him. After struggling with paperwork all day, he'd been one annoyingly picky VIP-tour request short of up and quitting this job, when he'd got that call and the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.
He hadn't even known that Kent had added him as an emergency contact, but as he apparated directly over to medical, that was the least of his concerns. He sat at Kent's bedside now, holding his boyfriend's limp hand as he watched Njall pore over his test results. "What's going on with him?" he asked finally, to break the silence and to have something to think about other than Kent lying here like the dead, his face pale and still and scary. "Brain injury? Was that concussion worse than you thought?"
Try as he might to keep a neutral expression, there was a tightness around Njall's mouth that he just couldn't help. He'd re-run the test at least a dozen times, and gone over the results more than that. If what he'd seen was right... Unease crawled all over his skin at the implications alone. Looking at the chart wouldn't change his findings, but that didn't keep him from wishing it was so.
"It's a brain injury, yes. But it's not from the concussion. His mind… It's fighting itself. I've never seen anything like it." The healer cast the test again, and tendrils of silver light began to hover around Kent's head. It hung there a moment, swirling gently as the spell began to translate its findings into a perceptible form.
All at once, there were flashes throughout: violent reds and poison greens, arcing over the surface in snaps and pops. Clusters of blue were dotted with black and mottled grey. It was a warzone. "These are memory centers," Njall pointed out the roiling spots of blue, "and something is very wrong with the way he's processing his thoughts. It's like his head is overcompensating for something. Something wrong, I suspect. Something missing."
Tony watched the diagnostic in alarm, holding tighter to Kent's hand, and Njall's last words made him look up at the healer with his eyebrows raised. "Missing?" he repeated. "Like… somebody might have taken some of his memories?" He frowned and rubbed at his own temple with his free hand; this was hitting uncomfortably close to home, and his mind immediately went to that woman who had erased his memories so many years ago. "Well… but you can fix it, right?"
"Taken and-or rearranged them," Njall confirmed with a grim nod. He looked at Kent, untroubled in his subconscious state by the war going on in his head. He had no idea how much of that was spell damage and how much was just the way his scary genius mind worked. "I have to admit, this is out of my purview, but there are mind healers in Laramie, and a few out in California if things get--"
He was cut off when Kent suddenly surged upright, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him close. The doctor's eyes were narrowed into slits, and teeth bared like he really wanted to take a lethal chunk out of Njall's neck. "No. Fucking. Mind. Healers."
Tony jumped a mile, dropping Kent's hand fast. He had not expected that at this moment, but he had to admit, it was very Kent to start awake out of a dead sleep by the power of sheer adrenaline and rage. He placed his hand on Kent's shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. "Okay, okay, no mind healers. Relax, okay? Let the nice healer go." He leaned in to smile at him, looking into his eyes for signs of… well, whatever. Recognition. Alertness. Anything. "Hey, baby. Are you back with us?"
The way Kent released him at Tony's request put Njall in mind of something that had been instinctively done. He glanced between the two of them, considering for just a second--and also recalling, belatedly and with no small amount of personal chagrin, the rumors that had floated around the reserve just a week back about Tony and that woman from the AWC's watchdog group--and took a step back. Kent's eyes flicked from his face to Tony's and then back again before they widened and snapped right back to Tony. An incongruously sweet smile filled his face. "You're back."
He waved a hand in front of his face as the diagnostic spell continued pulse around him. It was like a swarm of really annoying fireflies, and it took a sluggish second for him to realize what he was seeing. Kent saw Njall raise his wand to start to cancel out the spell, but he held his hand up. "Wait. Don't. Please. I need to see."
Now that Kent was awake again, Tony shifted to sit on the edge of the bed next to him, picking up a hand to lace their fingers together. Honestly, he was just relieved Kent was looking lively and talking, and was too focused on him to pay the other healer any attention at all. "Njall says somebody might have done something to your mind and that's why you've been having so many head problems," he said carefully. "Like your memories. Erased them or changed them. Does that ring any bells? Any idea who, or why?"
He didn't answer for a long moment, gaze gone sharp and hyper-focused on a blob of blue light that churned right in front of his face. A shudder ran down the length of his spine, and he saw Njall take a step forward in his periphery. The spell dropped, and Kent raised his free hand to forestall the healer. "Don't. Don't. It's-- I've seen this before."
The grip he had on Tony's hand tightened, and he curled in close. "When I was little--maybe three or four--my brain would… overload sometimes. It would process too much, too fast, and I'd go sort of… catatonic, for lack of a better term. One of the things the mind healers tried was changing my memories. Taking away things I'd learned that they thought were clogging my neural pathways. But it only made it worse, because my head was constantly trying to realign itself, to get back those memories. It was awful, but it was so long ago, I never made the correlation to know. This makes sense now. I mean, it doesn't, and--"
The color drained from Kent's face. "Oh, god. I kissed Will. I thought it was you. I knew he wasn't, but my brain was fixated on it being you. Made me ignore everything that was screaming at me to take stock and-- fuck. Where is he? I have to apologize. He's gotta think I'm insane. Or some kind of goddamn predator. Fuck, what have I done?"
Tony raised his eyebrows, surprised, and glanced over at Njall to see if he knew anything about this. "The unicorn guy? I think I saw him in the waiting room when I came in. Don't worry about him, okay? We're worried about you right now. You can apologize once we figure out how to help you." He leaned in to kiss Kent's cheek, stroking his thumb over the side of his boyfriend's hand. "Because we're gonna figure it out. Right?" he asked Njall, without taking his eyes from Kent's face. "If healers did this, then they can… undo it. Or however that works. Did the concussion make it worse somehow?"
After giving a slight shake of his head, Njall ran over his and Teo's treatment of Brightstar that Tuesday, what was in his chart and what he could remember of that hectic day. "We didn't do this. We never cast any kind of modification spells. There wouldn't have been any cause. I mean, it's possible that something we did could have exacerbated the Obliviation, but it had to have happened before he got to us. Your symptoms started after that day, right? The headaches and dizziness?"
Slowly, Kent gave a stiff nod. He tried to think back to that day, but details skittered away anytime he got close. An intake of breath hissed through his teeth, and he grimaced all over again. Needles were jabbing at his temples every time he tried. "Yes," he gasped out. "I think so. We need to… talk to Felix. Get him in here." Angry, pain-spurred tears dripped hot down his cheeks. He shoved the heel of his hand into one of his eyes, pressing tight to try to relieve any of it. "I can't… I can't… Tony, please."
Tony had no idea what Kent was asking him for; all he knew was that he was in pain, and Tony hurt right along with him. "Oh, honey," he breathed, and helplessly cupped his hands around Kent's poor head, drawing him gently in to rest against Tony's shoulder. "Come here, baby. Just breathe. We're gonna fix this."
He held Kent close with one hand, the other going down to rub at his neck, trying to ease his tension even as he looked up at Njall for help. "We're gonna fix this. Right?"
The professional mask that Njall wore slipped when Kent mentioned Felix, and he bit his lip as a sudden wave of anxiety washed over him. Something like this hadn't even occurred to him, and he felt like an idiot. But that wasn't exactly fair. This was the Brightstar Reserve. Who the hell would be screwing around with memories in a place like this, and why? "We're going to do everything in our power. Kent, I'm getting you more pain potion and something to help you sleep."
He nodded miserably from his place on Tony's shoulder, and hated every part of this except for the man holding him tight. "'S fine. But… Will? I need to talk to him, before, okay? Please. I owe him."
Tony looked back at Njall, who was looking at him as if for permission, and lifted his free shoulder slightly. "Okay," he agreed. "Njall, could you? I'm gonna be sappy for a minute, and nobody needs to see that."
He stroked Kent's hair while Nat's babydaddy left, and kissed his temple softly. "Hey," he said into Kent's skin. "Chin up, okay? We're gonna get you back to your normal scary genius adorable self." He trailed kisses down his cheek, his jaw, holding his head reverently, like something precious and breakable, which at the moment it apparently was. "You didn't tell me you put me on as your emergency contact, babe," he added, his voice low. "Not Zophie?"
"She doesn't live here," Kent replied in equally quiet tones. Being touched like this, cared for, it really was having a palliative effect. It was only by the tiniest of degrees, but better by something was preferable to unrelenting agony. "You do. And I never thought it would come up. It wasn't supposed to. I'm sorry. I should've asked first."
He looked at his boyfriend unsteadily, and his face crumpled from something other than pain. "God, this… With what happened to you… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This has to hurt, with everything going on. What makes a person do something like this?" Kent gave an inarticulate snarl, anger flashing white-hot inside him as his thoughts circled unhelpfully to Lina and the mere fact of her existence. "I'm gonna fucking end her."
"Hey," Tony said again, and kissed the tip of Kent's nose. He thought he did a pretty good job of hiding or just flat-out ignoring the weight that had settled on him last week and hadn't really gone away; his short depressive spell had freaked everybody out enough, and he wasn't going to go back to that if there was any way he could help it. "This isn't about what happened to me, okay? The Aurors are handling that one. Anyway, it didn't mess up my brains like it did you. Probably because I didn't have enough of them to begin with."
He grinned, trying to make Kent smile. "Let's not even think about her. Let's just pretend she never existed. Let's think about how you trusted me to be here when you're hurt, and how sweet that is." He dipped his head to catch Kent's mouth in a shallow, sweet kiss. "I will be here," he said into the breath between their lips. "You've got me, baby."
The sound that left him would have been really embarrassing at any other time, but there, just now, he didn't care. There wasn't enough left in him for that kind of complex analysis of his reactions, like the way he shivered again and pushed himself even closer. This was the body he wanted to be against. This felt right. Only one more element would have made it perfection, but Kent really didn't want her to see him this way. "I… I meant what I said in Vegas. It wasn't just the moment. I meant every word."
Tony hummed in response and kissed him again, just as carefully, largely so he didn't have to answer that. He didn't know how to answer that, though he knew exactly what Kent was referring to. He rubbed his back softly, holding him close, and looked up as Njall knocked and opened the door, ushering in the unicorn guy.
Will was somehow pale and flushed all at once, and the easy, familiar way Dr. Brightstar and Tony were touching each other made him want to stare and want to look away. He clasped his hands behind him, looking down at the ground. "Dr. Brightstar," he said. "Are you all right?"
"I'm okay," Kent lied easily. Heat colored his face and the tips of his ears as he tried to look at Will, but could only make it as far as his shoulders. Shame burrowed in a tight corkscrew all the way down to his stomach, where it cozied up quite nicely with blood-curdling remorse. He could just make out his face from the periphery and thought he deserved the perceived expression very much. "Are you?"
Will nodded, without much conviction in it. "Aye. I was afeart when you fell, but I'm glad you are okay." The word felt odd on his lips, but everything felt odd right now. He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet in discomfort. He'd spent the past hour or so in the waiting room reflecting on what had happened, praying for strength and good judgment, and composing an apology to everyone involved, and yet it was difficult now to say those words.
He cleared his throat again anyway and looked up, his gaze skating over Tony's and then Kent's before coming to rest on the wall over his shoulder, which seemed safer. "Sir, I pray you will forgive me--"
"Don't," it came out like a bark of sound, and sounded loud even to Kent's ears. He couldn't imagine what it might have been like for Tony, being so close, but he definitely saw Njall stiffen. "Don't. You don't apologize. Ever. Not about this. You did absolutely nothing wrong. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm the one who's begging you for forgiveness. Will, I-I fucking assaulted you, and I'll never be able to make that right or take it back. I'm so sorry." His voice broke. "God, I'm so sorry."
Tony winced at the tone in Kent's voice, and squeezed an arm around him reassuringly. Will eyed the two of them again, and took a deep breath. "'Be ye courteous one to another, and tender hearted, freely forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake, freely forgave you.' The letter to the Ephesians, the fourth chapter. I do forgive you for--" He stammered for a moment, his blush deepening; it was hard to say with all these people looking on. "For putting your hands on me," he settled on, even if it wasn't quite accurate. "I consider thy intent was not to harm me."
"He didn't know what he was doing," Tony added, and looked back at Kent for confirmation. "There's something going on in his head. Njall -- Healer Strand -- can tell you, it wasn't his fault."
For whatever reason, Kent didn't feel like pointing out his head's scrambled attempts to give him his boyfriend where no boyfriend had been. It would have only led continued credence to the mounting certainty that something in his brain was broken. He looked at Will for a long, solemn moment, and slowly shook his head. "It wasn't," he choked out. "I swear it wasn't."
The room, the concern radiating off of Njall's face, the obvious conflict playing out on Will's--it all disappeared as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut at a fresh wave of hell. He clutched at Tony's arm and bent forward with something between a gasp and sob. "Dr. Brightstar isn't well," he heard Njall say, "that much I can tell you. I know there's a lot that needs to be discussed here, but, Kent, you need to take these."
The healer was brooking no argument, that much was evident from his voice alone. Kent gave a tiny nod and instantly regretted it. "Tony, can you make sure he takes these and rests? Will, may I talk to you out in the hallway for a minute?"
"Yeah, of course," Tony answered, his hand cupping Kent's cheek with concern, at the same moment as Will answered, "Aye, healer," with a tone somewhere between relief and trepidation. He followed Healer Strand out into the hall, looking back for just a moment to see Tony tip his head down to kiss Kent's forehead so gently and tenderly that he had to stare.
The door swung closed behind them, and he looked up at Njall, his cheeks flushed anew. "Will he be all right?" he asked.
Njall's gaze flicked to the door, and then back again. "I'm going to try everything I can to make sure he is. What I'm concerned about right now, however, is you. Are you going to be all right?"
"Aye," Will answered, and lowered his eyes to the floor. "I was not harmed. Only… afeart. But 'twas my own fault as well. I knew that he was acting strangely, and I should have gone for help." He shook his head, blushing too fiercely to look up at the healer. "I consider I must have done something to make Dr. Brightstar think that I was -- that I wanted -- that. I am sorely ashamed for that."
His reaction was as fierce as it was instinctive. Njall didn't believe that for a single instant. "Hey, no. No. Will, you did absolutely nothing wrong here. Nothing. Look, I'm not advocating you press charges or anything, even though you'd be well within your rights to do so, but what happened was wrong and in no way your fault. You didn't do a damned thing to deserve it."
He watched the young man for a long time, and then asked the one question he was dreading. "Did he do anything besides just kissing you?"
Will shook his head, not looking up. "Nay! Nay. I--" He wet his lips. "I laid my hand on his shoulder. I was concerned. And he took my hand to his heart. 'Twas very familiar, but not -- not harmful. I pulled away my hand to leave, and Dr. Brightstar grabbed for my wrist." He clutched his hand around his own wrist, squeezing tight enough to ground him. "He held me there, and that was when he k-kissed me." The remembered shame and fear twisted his stomach, and he had to swallow down a moment of nausea, still not looking up at the healer. "He held my hair and I-I was too startled and afeart to move, but I turned my head and said 'nay', and he released me. And then he spoke nonsense, and fell, and I caught him so he would not harm himself. But Dr. Brightstar did me no harm, and meant me no harm, and I… I am okay."
It took him a couple of seconds to digest this, to watch Will closely. He wasn't relieved by any stretch of the imagination. The young man had been through a trauma himself, and Njall had very real concerns that he might not be as 'okay' as he insisted. "If… If that changes, if you start to not feel okay, I want you to know that you can talk to me. Or talk to a friend. I've seen you hanging out with JJ, right? Please don't think that you have to go through this alone. There are plenty of people around here that will be here for you."
Will couldn't fathom the idea of confessing to anyone who didn't already know that he had been kissed by Dr. Brightstar. He hesitated, and then nodded. "Aye," he answered, without intending to do any such thing. It wasn't a falsehood, he considered, since he was all right and he didn't imagine that he would be less all right as time went on. "I thank you, Healer Strand."
That doubt only intensified, but Njall was pretty powerless at the moment to help him if he neither needed nor wanted it. He gave Will a firm nod before glancing at the exam room door. "I need to get back, but thank you for sticking around. I'm sure Kent appreciates what you did for him, all things considered. Like I said, let me know if you need anything. I'll see you around."
"Aye," Will agreed again, and managed a smile. "I pray Dr. Brightstar will be better soon. I should go to my supper and rest. 'Twas a long day." He lifted a hand in farewell and turned, sliding his hands into his pockets, to head out of medical at long last. He had no intention of telling JJ or any of his friends in Snowcap what had happened, but as his fingers brushed over his phone, he thought of one person, maybe, he could call. But not yet. Now, he was just exhausted, and all he wanted was food and then silence.