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beansideSo, as we see it, this is the last chapter of the first "act" of Deathknell. Not that there isn't a ton more to come, but this is the end of the first part, where the cards are finally on the table.
Enjoy!
Title: Stars When You Shine
Rating: R
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nilchance and beanside
Disclaimer: This never happened, seeing as this is fiction, and all.
A/N: Unbetaed.
As they followed the grandfatherly man back, Jensen felt a chill slide down his back. This could be a Very Bad Thing, he knew. The way Christian was looking at him, almost pleading, didn't bode well either.
When they reached the conference room, he was urged into a chair that had a small microphone in front of it. "What's this?" he asked, forcing his voice to stay steady. They closed Bisou outside the door. Dammit. He would have liked to have her solid bulk next to him.
"Your--Mr. Kane has informed us that you might have some intelligence on Bentley. We'd like to tape it so we get all the information necessary." The old man smiled warmly, folding his hands in front of him. His eyes were calculating every move they made. "It's just procedure, son. I know you've had a bad time of it, but you're safe now."
Jensen glanced at Kane. He hated himself for seeking a second opinion, as if he could lean on anything these people said. Christian had been Morgan's. That only made him more dangerous, not less. Nikki had loved Christian. She told Jensen about him in hushed, reverent tones. It had been the only time she really smiled.
He felt scattered in a hundred pieces. His shoulder throbbed steadily. He couldn't afford a mistake; the ice he was walking on was too thin.
Scanning Jensen's face, Christian turned to the old man. "High Commissioner Addams, I appreciate your interest in this matter, and the serendipity of your being in Vancouver to look into it yourself. However, before we begin, we need to call in one of the medical staff. My brother had an implant removed this afternoon. Now may not be the best time to conduct a formal interview-"
Addams shook his head, still smiling. "Thank you, Christian, I understand your concern. However, you should understand that this isn't simply a matter of slavery. Your brother's testimony could determine whether or not the UN chooses to intervene in the United States. Thousands of lives hinge on this young man's memories remaining fresh." Turning back to Jensen, Christian obviously dismissed, Addams said, "I'm sure you can forgive our urgency. Now, if you could just tell us-"
"I'm not an idiot," Jensen said. The words came fast so Addams couldn't hear weakness. "I know what you're doing. I'm not giving you anything until you agree to my terms."
To Addams' credit, he didn't register irritation. He continued smiling, paternally. Most slaves like Jensen were so starved for approval that they would throw themselves on any scraps Addams gave them. "No one said you were an idiot, Jensen," Addams said soothingly. "Indeed, you must be very strong to have survived Bentley. I respect you deeply, but I ask that you please consider the people left on the other side of the border. They may be dying, now, as we speak-"
"Then I guess you had better stop stalling and ask what I want," Jensen said. "You're the one who is High Commissioner, you have power, so let me ask you, Mr. Addams: why did I have to survive anything? You have recordings of live executions. You already know what they're doing. Why do you think I owe you something because people like Mr. Kane, and you will call him that, are the ones who bothered to put down their paperwork and get their hands dirty?"
Addams regarded him, hands still folded. "Your training shows," he said finally. "All right, Mr. Ackles, what are your terms?"
"Amnesty. I acted on Bentley's orders to survive."
"Hard to promise that without knowing what those orders were."
"Try," Jensen suggested. Christian was staring at him.
"For a former slave, you're awfully sure of yourself," Addams muttered.
"Addams? Would that be Roger Addams?"
"Yes."
"Mm. I see," Jensen said. "I believe you had dealings with Morgan Coulson. She told us all about you."
Addams paled. "Fine. Amnesty."
"For civil and criminal prosecution."
"I can't promise-" Addams began.
"That's a real shame." Jensen started to push back his chair. Hopefully Addams would react before he had to try to stand up.
"Mr. Ackles, I'm afraid you can't just leave-"
Christian tilted his head. "Are you charging my brother with a crime?"
"From the sounds of it, we could," Addams said, with more than an edge of frustration.
"But you have no proof-" Christian started.
"Protective custody could be-"
Jensen snorted. "Protective? You can't even protect the goddamn President."
"That wasn't-" Addams stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "Fine," he said tightly, once he was back to steady breathing. "Amnesty across the board. Now I sincerely hope your testimony proves to be worth our trouble."
"I was Bentley's Chosen vessel," Jensen said dully. "I was his instrument, his audience, and his weapon. I know what he's done, and what he's planning to do."
Addams gestured for more.
So Jensen told them. He spoke for what seemed like hours, spilling the truth until his throat was raw. His voice stayed steady, even if he had to force it to, as if this was one of the reports back to Morgan. Show no weakness. Even when Addams looked grave and ill, Jensen didn't let himself flinch. He was proud of that, of telling the stories of the dead. The ovens and the poisons, the box, the skinning table, the Judas Chair; he told them everything he had, bleeding out onto the table until he was hollow.
When Jensen fell silent, he noticed that his head was throbbing in time with his shoulder now. He leaned back into his chair and scrubbed his good hand over his face.
"Is that all?" Addams asked. Was his voice gentler now, or was Jensen just tired enough to fall for it? He didn't know.
Bentley would kill him for what he'd said already. There was no reason for Jensen to feel a treacherous spike of fear, like an echo of ritual incense.
Was that all? No. Not even close. There was more locked away, behind the door he never touched. More, and worse, the mindless terror that woke him in the middle of the night. He shuddered as the memory touched him, the chill, the antiseptic horror. The bodies crackling as they burned. The stench...
"Mr. Ackles?" Addams prompted. "Is there anything else?"
Christian's voice broke in. "If there is anything else, he can tell you tomorrow. I think he's given you enough to initiate a hearing-"
If he didn't tell them now, they wouldn't believe him. They probably wouldn't believe him anyway. But Jesus, if they did, they'd lock him away and no amnesty agreement or arguments from Christian would stop them.
He was tired. He didn't trust these people. But could he just stand back and watch it happen all over again?
"The basement," Jensen said, hating the way his voice wavered on the words. "Bentley kept us in the basement. The rest of it was just a hobby, but we were the point. That was his higher calling, he said. That it'd get rid of the impure, like the first time."
Addams leaned forward, palms flat on the table, scenting blood. "What was the point?"
"His tests. Angeline was a doctor once, she..." Jensen gripped his blistered fingers hard. He still felt dizzy. "She took samples from Dean Pharmaceuticals. They'd been running them through birds, through pigs, trying to get the virus to mutate so they had a weapon to turn on Chancellor's enemies-"
"The virus?"
Jensen squeezed his eyes shut. "Deathknell. They were trying to recreate Deathknell."
Silence, like a vacuum sucking the air from the room. "Madness," Addams breathed. "Son, you can't prove-"
"They chose us from the slave auctions. Angeline was kind to us, brought us food, ask us if we wanted to go with her. She liked the younger ones, the slaves who were born after the plague years. I knew who they were, knew from Morgan, but I chose to go. Maybe I thought I could change things. I don't know what I thought. They took us back to their compound, and got us well enough that we weren't in danger of skewing their results by dying of starvation. They kept us drugged and compliant, but we could hear the screaming at night from the killing floor. There was nowhere to run.
"When we were ready, we were herded into the basement. Bentley had cages, glass-walled cells with a cot. Angeline put in an IV, and they filtered in the blood from other people they'd infected. The lucky ones died of transfusion sickness." Jensen rolled up his sleeve to show the track marks, hidden among the scars that had distracted Dr. McCoy from noticing a few small pockmarks. "Two days later, I started coughing. Blood from my ears, my eyes, my nose; I kept coughing it up. My lungs were getting shredded. I could see the others dying. I could see Angeline taking notes, pulling the blankets over the faces of the dead. They didn't look human anymore. Like they were weeks dead instead of hours. They were rotting..."
Christian's hand covered the track marks. When Jensen looked, Christian was kneeling by his chair. Addams stared at him, one hand over his mouth like it would protect him from the air he breathed.
"I don't know what came after that," Jensen said. "I had a fever. There was no water, no food. I only remember Angeline coming in my cage to pull the blanket up, to throw me in the piles of bodies they burned. I asked her to stop; she told me I recited a psalm. Something Morgan made me learn. The next thing I knew, I was in Bentley's chambers in a clean bed with an IV in my arm, giving me liquids. They took blood for a vaccine. Bentley came in, touched my face, told me I was his chosen. God's chosen."
Addams' voice shook. "Do you know if Bentley's virus will transmit between humans?"
"Not yet."
"Where will he strike when it does?"
"Vancouver. The Agency." Jensen looked at Christian. "He'll send someone like me."
"I see." Addams stood. "We'll need to run some bloodwork, of course," he said. "And you'll need to be quarantined for testing."
"Like hell," Christian barked. "Did your forget that he's an ex-slave? No quarantine."
"He could be a threat to public health," Addams blustered.
Jensen stared at the floor. Here it came, the iron fist in the velvet glove. He'd be quarantined, poked and prodded like Angeline all over again. Possibly dissected, to see the effect on his organs.
The door opened, and two armed guards came in. "Take him to the hospital wing," Addams ordered. "Quarantine protocol. I'll contact the World Health Representative."
They nodded and came forward, grabbing his arms.
"Fuck this," Kane growled. "This is not happening. You are not going to treat my brother like a fucking-"
"This isn't your decision, Christian," Addams said sternly. "We have to act in the best interest of world health now."
Jensen felt the guards start to move, and panic spiked in his chest. He thought he'd been prepared for this. He thought he'd expected it. Now all he felt was the crippling urge to run. He backed away from them and nearly tripped over a rolling chair. The dizziness of earlier swept over him in nauseating waves. Desperate, he looked at the closest source of sanity. "I--Christian. Please-"
One of the guards grabbed his arm, fingers digging into the cut left by the Apostate's blade. Jensen snapped an elbow out into the man's head, knocking him back a step, but the second guard hauled both of Jensen's arms behind his back and bent them up. The cut where Jeff had carved out the implant tore open, burning as it went, and Jensen barely felt the guard cuff his wrists with plastic ties.
Christian moved like chain lightning. One second, stillness. The next, he lashed out, and the guard holding Jensen was on the floor. Another had Christian's gun pressed to his temple. "I said no, motherfucker," Christian snapped.
"Mr. Kane! This is unacceptable! You should know by now that your actions will have serious consequences for the Agency-"
"I quit this morning. You can take it up with Welling. He's my replacement." Christian reached over, nudging Jensen away from the guard. "Let's get out of here."
Jensen saw the guard Kane had hit coming to his feet, and opened his mouth to warn Chris. Something sharp stuck in his shoulder, spreading liquid warmth down his arm. He turned to see Addams holding an empty syringe in his hand. He cursed, whipping his head back to crack into Addams', and Addams folded.
"Jeff," he managed, through a tongue that seemed too thick. It was pure desperation, but... "Go get Jeff."
Christian reached for him, only to have the other guard grab his gun, throwing it into the corner. More guards streamed into the room, hard hands grabbing him, hoisting him as he struggled. There were too many; for every one he kicked away, two more guards replaced them. Someone risked getting their ribs broken, grabbing both of his knees in strong arms.
Someone was screaming, Jensen thought, clumsily trying to reach Chris. One of them shoved his shoulder into the doorframe as they hauled him out, and the pain nearly blinded him. He gagged, helpless.
Christian was still fighting, taking down guards as he went. He lunged, fingers closing on Jensen's shirt, and tried to pull him away, but the guards kept moving, and others were coming in to hold Christian down.
"No," Jensen muttered. "No, don't hurt him, Chris, stop, I'm not--they'll hurt you- No, please-"
The doors shut behind him on Christian's stricken face, and Jensen let the blackness overwhelm him.
Enjoy!
Title: Stars When You Shine
Rating: R
Authors:
nilchance and beansideDisclaimer: This never happened, seeing as this is fiction, and all.
A/N: Unbetaed.
As they followed the grandfatherly man back, Jensen felt a chill slide down his back. This could be a Very Bad Thing, he knew. The way Christian was looking at him, almost pleading, didn't bode well either.
When they reached the conference room, he was urged into a chair that had a small microphone in front of it. "What's this?" he asked, forcing his voice to stay steady. They closed Bisou outside the door. Dammit. He would have liked to have her solid bulk next to him.
"Your--Mr. Kane has informed us that you might have some intelligence on Bentley. We'd like to tape it so we get all the information necessary." The old man smiled warmly, folding his hands in front of him. His eyes were calculating every move they made. "It's just procedure, son. I know you've had a bad time of it, but you're safe now."
Jensen glanced at Kane. He hated himself for seeking a second opinion, as if he could lean on anything these people said. Christian had been Morgan's. That only made him more dangerous, not less. Nikki had loved Christian. She told Jensen about him in hushed, reverent tones. It had been the only time she really smiled.
He felt scattered in a hundred pieces. His shoulder throbbed steadily. He couldn't afford a mistake; the ice he was walking on was too thin.
Scanning Jensen's face, Christian turned to the old man. "High Commissioner Addams, I appreciate your interest in this matter, and the serendipity of your being in Vancouver to look into it yourself. However, before we begin, we need to call in one of the medical staff. My brother had an implant removed this afternoon. Now may not be the best time to conduct a formal interview-"
Addams shook his head, still smiling. "Thank you, Christian, I understand your concern. However, you should understand that this isn't simply a matter of slavery. Your brother's testimony could determine whether or not the UN chooses to intervene in the United States. Thousands of lives hinge on this young man's memories remaining fresh." Turning back to Jensen, Christian obviously dismissed, Addams said, "I'm sure you can forgive our urgency. Now, if you could just tell us-"
"I'm not an idiot," Jensen said. The words came fast so Addams couldn't hear weakness. "I know what you're doing. I'm not giving you anything until you agree to my terms."
To Addams' credit, he didn't register irritation. He continued smiling, paternally. Most slaves like Jensen were so starved for approval that they would throw themselves on any scraps Addams gave them. "No one said you were an idiot, Jensen," Addams said soothingly. "Indeed, you must be very strong to have survived Bentley. I respect you deeply, but I ask that you please consider the people left on the other side of the border. They may be dying, now, as we speak-"
"Then I guess you had better stop stalling and ask what I want," Jensen said. "You're the one who is High Commissioner, you have power, so let me ask you, Mr. Addams: why did I have to survive anything? You have recordings of live executions. You already know what they're doing. Why do you think I owe you something because people like Mr. Kane, and you will call him that, are the ones who bothered to put down their paperwork and get their hands dirty?"
Addams regarded him, hands still folded. "Your training shows," he said finally. "All right, Mr. Ackles, what are your terms?"
"Amnesty. I acted on Bentley's orders to survive."
"Hard to promise that without knowing what those orders were."
"Try," Jensen suggested. Christian was staring at him.
"For a former slave, you're awfully sure of yourself," Addams muttered.
"Addams? Would that be Roger Addams?"
"Yes."
"Mm. I see," Jensen said. "I believe you had dealings with Morgan Coulson. She told us all about you."
Addams paled. "Fine. Amnesty."
"For civil and criminal prosecution."
"I can't promise-" Addams began.
"That's a real shame." Jensen started to push back his chair. Hopefully Addams would react before he had to try to stand up.
"Mr. Ackles, I'm afraid you can't just leave-"
Christian tilted his head. "Are you charging my brother with a crime?"
"From the sounds of it, we could," Addams said, with more than an edge of frustration.
"But you have no proof-" Christian started.
"Protective custody could be-"
Jensen snorted. "Protective? You can't even protect the goddamn President."
"That wasn't-" Addams stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "Fine," he said tightly, once he was back to steady breathing. "Amnesty across the board. Now I sincerely hope your testimony proves to be worth our trouble."
"I was Bentley's Chosen vessel," Jensen said dully. "I was his instrument, his audience, and his weapon. I know what he's done, and what he's planning to do."
Addams gestured for more.
So Jensen told them. He spoke for what seemed like hours, spilling the truth until his throat was raw. His voice stayed steady, even if he had to force it to, as if this was one of the reports back to Morgan. Show no weakness. Even when Addams looked grave and ill, Jensen didn't let himself flinch. He was proud of that, of telling the stories of the dead. The ovens and the poisons, the box, the skinning table, the Judas Chair; he told them everything he had, bleeding out onto the table until he was hollow.
When Jensen fell silent, he noticed that his head was throbbing in time with his shoulder now. He leaned back into his chair and scrubbed his good hand over his face.
"Is that all?" Addams asked. Was his voice gentler now, or was Jensen just tired enough to fall for it? He didn't know.
Bentley would kill him for what he'd said already. There was no reason for Jensen to feel a treacherous spike of fear, like an echo of ritual incense.
Was that all? No. Not even close. There was more locked away, behind the door he never touched. More, and worse, the mindless terror that woke him in the middle of the night. He shuddered as the memory touched him, the chill, the antiseptic horror. The bodies crackling as they burned. The stench...
"Mr. Ackles?" Addams prompted. "Is there anything else?"
Christian's voice broke in. "If there is anything else, he can tell you tomorrow. I think he's given you enough to initiate a hearing-"
If he didn't tell them now, they wouldn't believe him. They probably wouldn't believe him anyway. But Jesus, if they did, they'd lock him away and no amnesty agreement or arguments from Christian would stop them.
He was tired. He didn't trust these people. But could he just stand back and watch it happen all over again?
"The basement," Jensen said, hating the way his voice wavered on the words. "Bentley kept us in the basement. The rest of it was just a hobby, but we were the point. That was his higher calling, he said. That it'd get rid of the impure, like the first time."
Addams leaned forward, palms flat on the table, scenting blood. "What was the point?"
"His tests. Angeline was a doctor once, she..." Jensen gripped his blistered fingers hard. He still felt dizzy. "She took samples from Dean Pharmaceuticals. They'd been running them through birds, through pigs, trying to get the virus to mutate so they had a weapon to turn on Chancellor's enemies-"
"The virus?"
Jensen squeezed his eyes shut. "Deathknell. They were trying to recreate Deathknell."
Silence, like a vacuum sucking the air from the room. "Madness," Addams breathed. "Son, you can't prove-"
"They chose us from the slave auctions. Angeline was kind to us, brought us food, ask us if we wanted to go with her. She liked the younger ones, the slaves who were born after the plague years. I knew who they were, knew from Morgan, but I chose to go. Maybe I thought I could change things. I don't know what I thought. They took us back to their compound, and got us well enough that we weren't in danger of skewing their results by dying of starvation. They kept us drugged and compliant, but we could hear the screaming at night from the killing floor. There was nowhere to run.
"When we were ready, we were herded into the basement. Bentley had cages, glass-walled cells with a cot. Angeline put in an IV, and they filtered in the blood from other people they'd infected. The lucky ones died of transfusion sickness." Jensen rolled up his sleeve to show the track marks, hidden among the scars that had distracted Dr. McCoy from noticing a few small pockmarks. "Two days later, I started coughing. Blood from my ears, my eyes, my nose; I kept coughing it up. My lungs were getting shredded. I could see the others dying. I could see Angeline taking notes, pulling the blankets over the faces of the dead. They didn't look human anymore. Like they were weeks dead instead of hours. They were rotting..."
Christian's hand covered the track marks. When Jensen looked, Christian was kneeling by his chair. Addams stared at him, one hand over his mouth like it would protect him from the air he breathed.
"I don't know what came after that," Jensen said. "I had a fever. There was no water, no food. I only remember Angeline coming in my cage to pull the blanket up, to throw me in the piles of bodies they burned. I asked her to stop; she told me I recited a psalm. Something Morgan made me learn. The next thing I knew, I was in Bentley's chambers in a clean bed with an IV in my arm, giving me liquids. They took blood for a vaccine. Bentley came in, touched my face, told me I was his chosen. God's chosen."
Addams' voice shook. "Do you know if Bentley's virus will transmit between humans?"
"Not yet."
"Where will he strike when it does?"
"Vancouver. The Agency." Jensen looked at Christian. "He'll send someone like me."
"I see." Addams stood. "We'll need to run some bloodwork, of course," he said. "And you'll need to be quarantined for testing."
"Like hell," Christian barked. "Did your forget that he's an ex-slave? No quarantine."
"He could be a threat to public health," Addams blustered.
Jensen stared at the floor. Here it came, the iron fist in the velvet glove. He'd be quarantined, poked and prodded like Angeline all over again. Possibly dissected, to see the effect on his organs.
The door opened, and two armed guards came in. "Take him to the hospital wing," Addams ordered. "Quarantine protocol. I'll contact the World Health Representative."
They nodded and came forward, grabbing his arms.
"Fuck this," Kane growled. "This is not happening. You are not going to treat my brother like a fucking-"
"This isn't your decision, Christian," Addams said sternly. "We have to act in the best interest of world health now."
Jensen felt the guards start to move, and panic spiked in his chest. He thought he'd been prepared for this. He thought he'd expected it. Now all he felt was the crippling urge to run. He backed away from them and nearly tripped over a rolling chair. The dizziness of earlier swept over him in nauseating waves. Desperate, he looked at the closest source of sanity. "I--Christian. Please-"
One of the guards grabbed his arm, fingers digging into the cut left by the Apostate's blade. Jensen snapped an elbow out into the man's head, knocking him back a step, but the second guard hauled both of Jensen's arms behind his back and bent them up. The cut where Jeff had carved out the implant tore open, burning as it went, and Jensen barely felt the guard cuff his wrists with plastic ties.
Christian moved like chain lightning. One second, stillness. The next, he lashed out, and the guard holding Jensen was on the floor. Another had Christian's gun pressed to his temple. "I said no, motherfucker," Christian snapped.
"Mr. Kane! This is unacceptable! You should know by now that your actions will have serious consequences for the Agency-"
"I quit this morning. You can take it up with Welling. He's my replacement." Christian reached over, nudging Jensen away from the guard. "Let's get out of here."
Jensen saw the guard Kane had hit coming to his feet, and opened his mouth to warn Chris. Something sharp stuck in his shoulder, spreading liquid warmth down his arm. He turned to see Addams holding an empty syringe in his hand. He cursed, whipping his head back to crack into Addams', and Addams folded.
"Jeff," he managed, through a tongue that seemed too thick. It was pure desperation, but... "Go get Jeff."
Christian reached for him, only to have the other guard grab his gun, throwing it into the corner. More guards streamed into the room, hard hands grabbing him, hoisting him as he struggled. There were too many; for every one he kicked away, two more guards replaced them. Someone risked getting their ribs broken, grabbing both of his knees in strong arms.
Someone was screaming, Jensen thought, clumsily trying to reach Chris. One of them shoved his shoulder into the doorframe as they hauled him out, and the pain nearly blinded him. He gagged, helpless.
Christian was still fighting, taking down guards as he went. He lunged, fingers closing on Jensen's shirt, and tried to pull him away, but the guards kept moving, and others were coming in to hold Christian down.
"No," Jensen muttered. "No, don't hurt him, Chris, stop, I'm not--they'll hurt you- No, please-"
The doors shut behind him on Christian's stricken face, and Jensen let the blackness overwhelm him.
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:32 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 02:34 pm (UTC):O
If I were a nail biter I'd be in serious need of a manicure now, homg. Nothing but love for this series. It's just fantastic, and frightening, and angsty and omg that I left my feedback brain somewhere around part two and never quite recovered it.
So all I can really think to say is that I've loved it, all of it, and I get such a thrill of GLEE everytime I see new chapters on my flist. If I could tap dance with teh joy, I totally would. That feeling has never, ever worn off.
Rock on, ladies! ♥
no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:34 pm (UTC)(OMG, icon. *pets*)
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 02:37 pm (UTC)GAH. I think that sums up my reaction...good freaking GAH.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 02:41 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing :-)
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 02:52 pm (UTC)Please don't make us wait too long for the next part. :-)
Keep up the great work!
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 02:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 02:57 pm (UTC)EVIL CLIFFHANGER!
The next part will be up in a few minutes, right? RIGHT?!
:flails:
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 03:11 pm (UTC)And yeah, I need a drink to two after reading this one.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 03:44 pm (UTC)Bitches!!! *G*
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 03:49 pm (UTC)What are they going to do to Jeff? When are we gonna get more? This is seriously one of the best works of fiction I've ever read, no lie. I can't wait for part two!
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 03:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 04:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 05:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 05:19 pm (UTC)OMG. That was... Whew. Jensen! Chris! Oh god, I don't know who I'm more worried about, Jensen, Chris, Jared or Jeff when he finds out what's going down. You guys are the best! :)
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 06:20 pm (UTC)Well, we got to see action!Jeff in the one before last. I'm thinkin' we're going to see reallyfreain'pissed!Jeff coming up.
Geeze ladies, it's a good thing you said this is not the end...cause, damn...
no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:29 pm (UTC)*grin* Hopefully you're able to figure it out, but feel free to ask any questions you might have. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 07:27 pm (UTC)OMG! You guys are so freakin' mean to leave it like this!!
I need more.
-C-
no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:28 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 08:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 08:35 pm (UTC)2. You cannot leave us like this!
But I loved it how Chris was trying to protect Jensen, even to the point of getting his ass kicked. So let me get this straight - Addams is a 'good' guy? Whatever.
Chris had better get to Jeff and Jared to sort this out, or I'll....*shakes threatening fist*
no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:21 pm (UTC)2. There's more up now! I'm glad you liked it. *Grin*
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 10:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 10:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 10:36 pm (UTC)Evil ladies, truly evil, leaving us like that.
I love this story, it's incredibly compelling and has me totally hooked. Like everyone else I can't wait to read more.
Brilliant!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 02:09 pm (UTC)