[Fanfic] The Kid: Chapter 19/24
Title: The Kid
Author/Artist: MoyaKite
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Mainly Prussia, Canada, Romano, and Freddy (little kid!OC), but almost everyone could end up in here eventually. (In this chapter: Freddy, Prussia, Canada, and Switzerland.) Also, Canada and Prussia are now sort of an item.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Cuteness, sappiness, angst, and potential future character death. Oh, and one punch, in this chapter.
Summary: Simply put, Prussia goes backpacking across Europe and finds a kid. What sort of a dad would Prussia be, anyway?
Author's Notes: The original (which started on the kink meme) is here. I've written the entirety of this fanfiction, and I'll be posting the updates once a week on Saturdays or Sundays (depending on your timezone and my schedule). However, if you want me to write bonus chapters to ease the flow of the chapter, please let me know by commenting! (Even just a, "Bonus chapters, please!" comment will suffice, if you don't want to say more; I'm just gauging interest.) If I don't get a big enough response, I'll just leave it as it is and assume that not too many people care about additional chapters.
Prussia stared numbly at the results of his blood work. He was still in the driveway; he had to pick up Freddy in an hour. However long he stared at the results, he couldn't quite grasp it. Germany would understand them, one way or another-he'd be able to decipher the doctor's messy scrawl and put the note into simple, easy-to-understand terms.
Slowly, Prussia realized that there was another car in the driveway-not Germany's car. A rental car. Swinging his door open, Prussia staggered out of his old car and stumbled toward the front door, crushing the results in his hand. He fumbled six times before managing to get the key in the lock and twice more before managing to open the door.
“I'm home,” Prussia said, startled by his own voice. There was a rustling in the living room-a guest?
“Welcome home,” Prussia heard. Canada's voice. Prussia tossed the car keys onto the counter, missing the key hook, and stumbled toward the fridge. He needed a beer. After grabbing one, he found that he didn't have the strength to open it, so he wandered into the living room. Canada was sitting on the couch; at his feet lay piles of boxes and suitcases. Prussia looked up at him, half holding out the beer, not quite comprehending.
“Hey,” Prussia said. His voice sounded softer than he'd expected, but he couldn't find his voice. A lump rose in his throat. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Doctor's appointment.”
“I heard,” Canada said. “Let me see.”
Prussia handed him the crumpled results, and Canada smoothed them. Prussia sank into a nearby easy chair, huddling around his unopened can of beer. He hadn't drunk much since he'd brought Freddy home. Suddenly he wanted to call up France and Spain and go out on the town-get so blindingly drunk that he wouldn't be able to remember the last week.
Canada was looking at him.
“I'm staying,” Canada said. His voice was firm and unwavering. “I've brought all of my things.”
Prussia stared at him, then licked his parched lips. “They think I've got about eight years left at the very most,” Prussia whispered. “I won't even make it past Freddy's thirteenth birthday.”
“I know,” Canada said, not hesitating, not looking away.
“There's something wrong with my immune system,” Prussia continued. “It never developed like a normal human's-they don't understand the physiology of nations well, but they think it's got something to do with never having gotten sick from actual germs. It overreacts to some harmless things while letting through the dangerous ones. It doesn't know what to do.”
“I read it, Gilbert,” Canada insisted. “I'm still staying.”
“They don't expect me to live more than five years, Mattie!” Prussia snapped, clutching his beer so hard that his knuckles hurt. If he'd still been a nation, he would have crushed the can. “You're just-you can't!”
“Do you think,” Canada began, his voice icy and sharp, “that I could ever forgive myself if I left you here to die all alone, without any comfort? Five years is nothing, Gilbert.”
“That's exactly what I mean!” Prussia shouted, leaping to his feet. “You're just going to be miserable watching me fall apart.” He turned and set the can of beer on the table, noticing how badly his hands were shaking. “You can't do that to yourself, Mattie. You and Lovino and Al should take Freddy in, and-”
Canada leapt to his feet and socked Prussia hard in the gut, knocking the breath right out of him. Prussia collapsed backwards onto his chair. He heard a pop and a fizz-Canada shoved the opened can of beer into his hand.
“No more self pity,” Canada said, and Prussia tried not to notice the tears in Canada's eyes. “No more half-baked selflessness. You're going to grow a pair and kick yourself into shape. And I am not, under any circumstances, going to let you do this alone.”
“So we're getting hitched?” Prussia coughed, sipping at the beer. A smile caught at the corner of Canada's mouth, breaking his defenses just enough that a tear got past his guard-it pooled in his eye, and, for an instant, his lip trembled.
“Yeah, sure,” Canada said. “We can get hitched. Why not? It'd make Freddy's day.”
“You've gotta be attracted to somebody if you're gonna marry 'em,” Prussia said. He rubbed the spot that Canada had punched. “Man, you've got a mean right hook.”
Canada looked at him, then-looked at him in a way that reminded Prussia that Canada wasn't France's little brother for nothing.
“Attracted?” Canada repeated. “Yeah, I think I could do that. Yeah.”
Prussia remembered the way that he'd always wanted to drape an arm over Canada's shoulders and see whether it'd make anyone notice Canada, the way that the first person that he'd wanted to see after his last doctor's appointment had been Canada, not Germany. He remembered the way that Canada looked with a spot of flour on his nose, the way Canada cackled after telling a scary story, the way that Canada smelled faintly of maple even after a shower.
Prussia looked at Canada.
“I'm going to get old,” Prussia said. “You're going to outlive me by at least a century.”
Canada knelt in front of Prussia, reached up, and squeezed his hand.
“It's my heart,” Canada replied. “I can break it if I want to.”
~
Freddy sat in the corner of the playground, kicking his feet as he watched the other kids play. He had an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach; Papa was late to pick him up, and so was Uncle Vash. Uncle Vash was almost always on time. Papa had never been late after promising something-not once, not ever. Most of the other kids were staying for after school activities-clubs or sports. Freddy thought he might want to try them someday, but mostly he wanted to hurry home to Papa.
Alexandra sat down beside him.
“Do you have cooties?” she asked. “I heard some of the other girls back home talking about them. They said that all the boys have them.”
“I don't think so,” Freddy said, frowning. “Is there a shot for it?” Alexandra thought hard for a moment, then nodded very slowly and seriously. “Papa said that I got all my shots.”
“That's all right, then,” Alexandra said, slipping into Italian. Her accent was improving, and she liked to practice it. “Why do you look so sad?”
“I'm worried about Papa,” Freddy said, sighing as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He propped up his chin and scanned the horizon. “He went to the doctor a week ago, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” Alexandra said. “Didn't he have to go back?”
“Yeah,” Freddy said. “He went back today, and now he's late.”
“Maybe the doctor is giving him medicine,” Alexandra said. She grinned and turned to grab Freddy's hand, her red curls bouncing. “Don't worry, Freddy!” she said. “Doctors know just about everything. I'm sure they have a good medicine for him. And you can always kiss it better, like my mommy does.”
“Kiss it better?” Freddy repeated.
“Where it hurts, you know?” Alexandra said, pointing to the band-aid covering her skinned knee. “Mommy just kisses it and-poof!-it's all better!”
“Huh,” Freddy said. Uncle Vash's car pulled into the parking lot across the field, and Freddy leapt to his feet. “Thanks, Lexi!”
“See you on Monday!” she said, waving brightly. “Have a good weekend!”
“You, too!” Freddy shouted, taking off for the car. When he got there, he found Uncle Vash holding the door out for him, looking impatient.
“Your father is busy assisting Matthew,” Uncle Vash said, addressing him in crisp German, motioning for him to get in the car. Freddy clamored in, and Uncle Vash shut the door before Freddy could say anything. Freddy buckled his seat belt and twiddled his thumbs until Uncle Vash got in the driver's seat.
“With what?” Freddy asked.
“Unpacking,” Uncle Vash said, a faint blush on his cheeks. He sounded loathe to admit it.
Freddy gaped for an instant, then beamed.
“I was right!” he cheered. “Mattie is totally going to marry him! I knew it!”
Uncle Vash turned red to the roots of his hair.
“Whether he does or does not is none of my concern,” Uncle Vash said, gripping the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles went white. “How was school today, Friedrich?” Freddy cringed-only Mattie and West were allowed to call him that. Uncle Vash was focused on the road, though, and didn't notice.
“It was fun,” Freddy replied. “We talked about geography, and I knew more than anybody else in the whole class.”
Freddy caught a proud smirk catch the corner of Uncle Vash's mouth before Uncle Vash could hide it. Uncle Vash had spent a lot of time with him over the summer discussing politics and geography and language. For a neutral country, Uncle Vash seemed to know a lot about the subject.
“Did they pull out a globe?” Uncle Vash asked, looking both ways and flipping on his turn signal. It'd be another twenty minutes before they got home; even though Uncle Vash always drove within the laws, he always got them places faster than Papa. Papa had mentioned it once-nations just seemed to slip through the cracks and find paths that humans couldn't.
“No, a map,” Freddy said, remembering that Uncle Vash had asked him a question. “I found you on it! Papa's country is gone, though.”
Uncle Vash swallowed hard, and Freddy realized he wasn't supposed to mention that part.
“I found West, though!” Freddy continued. “And Kiku, and Feli and Lovino, and everybody, really. Well, I don't know anybody from Africa or South America, but you showed me the pictures, and I remembered most of them. The teacher had to ask me to stop.”
“Keep practicing until you can remember all of them,” Uncle Vash said, then fell silent. They were traveling through a forest-somewhere that Freddy knew in his bones wasn't real any more. An old forest that had been cut down. A forest Uncle Vash remembered. Freddy closed his eyes-it didn't smell like exhaust or even smoke, just like plants and damp earth. Freddy opened one eye and saw that Uncle Vash was looking off into the distance. Freddy knew better than to disturb him.
Ten minutes, Freddy guessed, and he'd be home. Mattie was going to move in, and Papa was going to have all of the medicine he needed, and they were going to eat pancakes for dinner. He never asked, but Mattie always knew when he wanted them. Mattie made sure he ate vegetables most of the time, but he wasn't that strict.
Were Mattie and Papa going to have a real, bonafide wedding? Freddy tried to imagine it and couldn't. Maybe they would just skip right to the being married part. It'd be like a sleepover, only Mattie wouldn't have to leave when the weekend ended.
Freddy dozed, resting his head against the window. Someday he'd catch up to his aunts and uncles, and he'd get married, too. He thought about Lovino and grinned. They'd stay up late and watch movies together and eat together all the time. They'd have sleepovers every night and Lovino would tell him stories.
The car slowed to a stop, and Freddy roused, blinking to clear the sleepiness from his eyes as he fumbled with his seatbelt. He'd have to ask Lovino to marry him soon, he decided. He hopped out of the car and thanked Uncle Vash. If he didn't ask first, somebody else was bound to do it soon.
“Friedrich!” Mattie called, waving from the doorway. He had flour on his hands, which he wiped off onto his apron. “Welcome home!”
“Until Monday,” Uncle Vash said, and he almost smiled as Freddy grinned and waved goodbye to him. Freddy turned and ran up to Mattie, grinning.
“So you're gonna get married, right?” Freddy asked, switching automatically to English. “Are you going to have a wedding and a honeymoon or just skip to the being married part? Are you going to change your last name? Is Papa? Are we going to stay here or move to Canada? And can I call you Vati?”
“How about Dad?” Mattie said, chuckling. He turned back and called into the house, “Your son has some questions for you!”
“For both of you!” Freddy insisted, pouting. “And now I'm going to be both of your sons, aren't I? If you're my dad, too?”
Mattie looked down at Freddy and suddenly grabbed him, pulling him in for a hug. Freddy hugged him back until he realized, after a moment, that Mattie was crying.
“What's the matter?” Freddy asked, trying to pull back, but Mattie just held him tighter. “Is something wrong?”
“Right now, Friedrich?” Mattie whispered. “Right now, everything in my life is just perfect.”
Chapter Guide: ( Ch. 1) ( Ch. 2) ( Ch. 3) ( Ch. 4) ( Ch. 5) ( Ch. 6) ( Ch. 7) ( Ch. 8) ( Ch. 9) ( Ch. 10) ( Ch. 11) ( Ch. 12) ( Ch. 13) ( Ch. 14) ( Ch. 15) ( Ch. 16) ( Ch. 17) ( Ch. 18) ( Ch. 19) ( Ch. 20) ( Ch. 21) ( Ch. 22) ( Ch. 23) ( Ch. 24)
Author/Artist: MoyaKite
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Mainly Prussia, Canada, Romano, and Freddy (little kid!OC), but almost everyone could end up in here eventually. (In this chapter: Freddy, Prussia, Canada, and Switzerland.) Also, Canada and Prussia are now sort of an item.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Cuteness, sappiness, angst, and potential future character death. Oh, and one punch, in this chapter.
Summary: Simply put, Prussia goes backpacking across Europe and finds a kid. What sort of a dad would Prussia be, anyway?
Author's Notes: The original (which started on the kink meme) is here. I've written the entirety of this fanfiction, and I'll be posting the updates once a week on Saturdays or Sundays (depending on your timezone and my schedule). However, if you want me to write bonus chapters to ease the flow of the chapter, please let me know by commenting! (Even just a, "Bonus chapters, please!" comment will suffice, if you don't want to say more; I'm just gauging interest.) If I don't get a big enough response, I'll just leave it as it is and assume that not too many people care about additional chapters.
Prussia stared numbly at the results of his blood work. He was still in the driveway; he had to pick up Freddy in an hour. However long he stared at the results, he couldn't quite grasp it. Germany would understand them, one way or another-he'd be able to decipher the doctor's messy scrawl and put the note into simple, easy-to-understand terms.
Slowly, Prussia realized that there was another car in the driveway-not Germany's car. A rental car. Swinging his door open, Prussia staggered out of his old car and stumbled toward the front door, crushing the results in his hand. He fumbled six times before managing to get the key in the lock and twice more before managing to open the door.
“I'm home,” Prussia said, startled by his own voice. There was a rustling in the living room-a guest?
“Welcome home,” Prussia heard. Canada's voice. Prussia tossed the car keys onto the counter, missing the key hook, and stumbled toward the fridge. He needed a beer. After grabbing one, he found that he didn't have the strength to open it, so he wandered into the living room. Canada was sitting on the couch; at his feet lay piles of boxes and suitcases. Prussia looked up at him, half holding out the beer, not quite comprehending.
“Hey,” Prussia said. His voice sounded softer than he'd expected, but he couldn't find his voice. A lump rose in his throat. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Doctor's appointment.”
“I heard,” Canada said. “Let me see.”
Prussia handed him the crumpled results, and Canada smoothed them. Prussia sank into a nearby easy chair, huddling around his unopened can of beer. He hadn't drunk much since he'd brought Freddy home. Suddenly he wanted to call up France and Spain and go out on the town-get so blindingly drunk that he wouldn't be able to remember the last week.
Canada was looking at him.
“I'm staying,” Canada said. His voice was firm and unwavering. “I've brought all of my things.”
Prussia stared at him, then licked his parched lips. “They think I've got about eight years left at the very most,” Prussia whispered. “I won't even make it past Freddy's thirteenth birthday.”
“I know,” Canada said, not hesitating, not looking away.
“There's something wrong with my immune system,” Prussia continued. “It never developed like a normal human's-they don't understand the physiology of nations well, but they think it's got something to do with never having gotten sick from actual germs. It overreacts to some harmless things while letting through the dangerous ones. It doesn't know what to do.”
“I read it, Gilbert,” Canada insisted. “I'm still staying.”
“They don't expect me to live more than five years, Mattie!” Prussia snapped, clutching his beer so hard that his knuckles hurt. If he'd still been a nation, he would have crushed the can. “You're just-you can't!”
“Do you think,” Canada began, his voice icy and sharp, “that I could ever forgive myself if I left you here to die all alone, without any comfort? Five years is nothing, Gilbert.”
“That's exactly what I mean!” Prussia shouted, leaping to his feet. “You're just going to be miserable watching me fall apart.” He turned and set the can of beer on the table, noticing how badly his hands were shaking. “You can't do that to yourself, Mattie. You and Lovino and Al should take Freddy in, and-”
Canada leapt to his feet and socked Prussia hard in the gut, knocking the breath right out of him. Prussia collapsed backwards onto his chair. He heard a pop and a fizz-Canada shoved the opened can of beer into his hand.
“No more self pity,” Canada said, and Prussia tried not to notice the tears in Canada's eyes. “No more half-baked selflessness. You're going to grow a pair and kick yourself into shape. And I am not, under any circumstances, going to let you do this alone.”
“So we're getting hitched?” Prussia coughed, sipping at the beer. A smile caught at the corner of Canada's mouth, breaking his defenses just enough that a tear got past his guard-it pooled in his eye, and, for an instant, his lip trembled.
“Yeah, sure,” Canada said. “We can get hitched. Why not? It'd make Freddy's day.”
“You've gotta be attracted to somebody if you're gonna marry 'em,” Prussia said. He rubbed the spot that Canada had punched. “Man, you've got a mean right hook.”
Canada looked at him, then-looked at him in a way that reminded Prussia that Canada wasn't France's little brother for nothing.
“Attracted?” Canada repeated. “Yeah, I think I could do that. Yeah.”
Prussia remembered the way that he'd always wanted to drape an arm over Canada's shoulders and see whether it'd make anyone notice Canada, the way that the first person that he'd wanted to see after his last doctor's appointment had been Canada, not Germany. He remembered the way that Canada looked with a spot of flour on his nose, the way Canada cackled after telling a scary story, the way that Canada smelled faintly of maple even after a shower.
Prussia looked at Canada.
“I'm going to get old,” Prussia said. “You're going to outlive me by at least a century.”
Canada knelt in front of Prussia, reached up, and squeezed his hand.
“It's my heart,” Canada replied. “I can break it if I want to.”
~
Freddy sat in the corner of the playground, kicking his feet as he watched the other kids play. He had an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach; Papa was late to pick him up, and so was Uncle Vash. Uncle Vash was almost always on time. Papa had never been late after promising something-not once, not ever. Most of the other kids were staying for after school activities-clubs or sports. Freddy thought he might want to try them someday, but mostly he wanted to hurry home to Papa.
Alexandra sat down beside him.
“Do you have cooties?” she asked. “I heard some of the other girls back home talking about them. They said that all the boys have them.”
“I don't think so,” Freddy said, frowning. “Is there a shot for it?” Alexandra thought hard for a moment, then nodded very slowly and seriously. “Papa said that I got all my shots.”
“That's all right, then,” Alexandra said, slipping into Italian. Her accent was improving, and she liked to practice it. “Why do you look so sad?”
“I'm worried about Papa,” Freddy said, sighing as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He propped up his chin and scanned the horizon. “He went to the doctor a week ago, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” Alexandra said. “Didn't he have to go back?”
“Yeah,” Freddy said. “He went back today, and now he's late.”
“Maybe the doctor is giving him medicine,” Alexandra said. She grinned and turned to grab Freddy's hand, her red curls bouncing. “Don't worry, Freddy!” she said. “Doctors know just about everything. I'm sure they have a good medicine for him. And you can always kiss it better, like my mommy does.”
“Kiss it better?” Freddy repeated.
“Where it hurts, you know?” Alexandra said, pointing to the band-aid covering her skinned knee. “Mommy just kisses it and-poof!-it's all better!”
“Huh,” Freddy said. Uncle Vash's car pulled into the parking lot across the field, and Freddy leapt to his feet. “Thanks, Lexi!”
“See you on Monday!” she said, waving brightly. “Have a good weekend!”
“You, too!” Freddy shouted, taking off for the car. When he got there, he found Uncle Vash holding the door out for him, looking impatient.
“Your father is busy assisting Matthew,” Uncle Vash said, addressing him in crisp German, motioning for him to get in the car. Freddy clamored in, and Uncle Vash shut the door before Freddy could say anything. Freddy buckled his seat belt and twiddled his thumbs until Uncle Vash got in the driver's seat.
“With what?” Freddy asked.
“Unpacking,” Uncle Vash said, a faint blush on his cheeks. He sounded loathe to admit it.
Freddy gaped for an instant, then beamed.
“I was right!” he cheered. “Mattie is totally going to marry him! I knew it!”
Uncle Vash turned red to the roots of his hair.
“Whether he does or does not is none of my concern,” Uncle Vash said, gripping the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles went white. “How was school today, Friedrich?” Freddy cringed-only Mattie and West were allowed to call him that. Uncle Vash was focused on the road, though, and didn't notice.
“It was fun,” Freddy replied. “We talked about geography, and I knew more than anybody else in the whole class.”
Freddy caught a proud smirk catch the corner of Uncle Vash's mouth before Uncle Vash could hide it. Uncle Vash had spent a lot of time with him over the summer discussing politics and geography and language. For a neutral country, Uncle Vash seemed to know a lot about the subject.
“Did they pull out a globe?” Uncle Vash asked, looking both ways and flipping on his turn signal. It'd be another twenty minutes before they got home; even though Uncle Vash always drove within the laws, he always got them places faster than Papa. Papa had mentioned it once-nations just seemed to slip through the cracks and find paths that humans couldn't.
“No, a map,” Freddy said, remembering that Uncle Vash had asked him a question. “I found you on it! Papa's country is gone, though.”
Uncle Vash swallowed hard, and Freddy realized he wasn't supposed to mention that part.
“I found West, though!” Freddy continued. “And Kiku, and Feli and Lovino, and everybody, really. Well, I don't know anybody from Africa or South America, but you showed me the pictures, and I remembered most of them. The teacher had to ask me to stop.”
“Keep practicing until you can remember all of them,” Uncle Vash said, then fell silent. They were traveling through a forest-somewhere that Freddy knew in his bones wasn't real any more. An old forest that had been cut down. A forest Uncle Vash remembered. Freddy closed his eyes-it didn't smell like exhaust or even smoke, just like plants and damp earth. Freddy opened one eye and saw that Uncle Vash was looking off into the distance. Freddy knew better than to disturb him.
Ten minutes, Freddy guessed, and he'd be home. Mattie was going to move in, and Papa was going to have all of the medicine he needed, and they were going to eat pancakes for dinner. He never asked, but Mattie always knew when he wanted them. Mattie made sure he ate vegetables most of the time, but he wasn't that strict.
Were Mattie and Papa going to have a real, bonafide wedding? Freddy tried to imagine it and couldn't. Maybe they would just skip right to the being married part. It'd be like a sleepover, only Mattie wouldn't have to leave when the weekend ended.
Freddy dozed, resting his head against the window. Someday he'd catch up to his aunts and uncles, and he'd get married, too. He thought about Lovino and grinned. They'd stay up late and watch movies together and eat together all the time. They'd have sleepovers every night and Lovino would tell him stories.
The car slowed to a stop, and Freddy roused, blinking to clear the sleepiness from his eyes as he fumbled with his seatbelt. He'd have to ask Lovino to marry him soon, he decided. He hopped out of the car and thanked Uncle Vash. If he didn't ask first, somebody else was bound to do it soon.
“Friedrich!” Mattie called, waving from the doorway. He had flour on his hands, which he wiped off onto his apron. “Welcome home!”
“Until Monday,” Uncle Vash said, and he almost smiled as Freddy grinned and waved goodbye to him. Freddy turned and ran up to Mattie, grinning.
“So you're gonna get married, right?” Freddy asked, switching automatically to English. “Are you going to have a wedding and a honeymoon or just skip to the being married part? Are you going to change your last name? Is Papa? Are we going to stay here or move to Canada? And can I call you Vati?”
“How about Dad?” Mattie said, chuckling. He turned back and called into the house, “Your son has some questions for you!”
“For both of you!” Freddy insisted, pouting. “And now I'm going to be both of your sons, aren't I? If you're my dad, too?”
Mattie looked down at Freddy and suddenly grabbed him, pulling him in for a hug. Freddy hugged him back until he realized, after a moment, that Mattie was crying.
“What's the matter?” Freddy asked, trying to pull back, but Mattie just held him tighter. “Is something wrong?”
“Right now, Friedrich?” Mattie whispered. “Right now, everything in my life is just perfect.”
Chapter Guide: ( Ch. 1) ( Ch. 2) ( Ch. 3) ( Ch. 4) ( Ch. 5) ( Ch. 6) ( Ch. 7) ( Ch. 8) ( Ch. 9) ( Ch. 10) ( Ch. 11) ( Ch. 12) ( Ch. 13) ( Ch. 14) ( Ch. 15) ( Ch. 16) ( Ch. 17) ( Ch. 18) ( Ch. 19) ( Ch. 20) ( Ch. 21) ( Ch. 22) ( Ch. 23) ( Ch. 24)