Fic: All That is Gold

[beanside]

Deathknell!

Title: All That is Gold
Authors: nilchance and beanside
Rating: R
Disclaimer: As ususal, this is fiction, and did not happen.
A/N: Many thanks to topaz119 for her advice, and beta skills, and for just being awesome.




Jeff eyed the cameras nervously. Thirty years of running, and it all came down to one statement. Obviously, his grandmother was insane. There was no way anyone wanted to hear from him. "I don't know if I can do this," he whispered, glancing at Jared.

Jared, bless him, just smiled. "You can. And you're going to be awesome."

Jeff gave him an anemic smile. "Yeah. Whatever you say, baby."

"No one expects you to do it all yourself. That's why you have Chris, and Tom, and Allie, and the rest of the UN. But the world needs you. They need that hope," Jared said softly. "That's what Matthew Dean has always been to slaves, you know. Hope." He looked down. "That's what you were to me."

"Oh, that's low," Jeff muttered. "Dicksmack."

"Oh, baby. Talk dirty to me," Jared laughed. "Now get up there and say hello."

Jeff nodded, taking a deep breath. "Okay, let's do this."

The assembled people scrambled into action, and a moment later, the red light next to the camera winked on. "And we're live in four, three, two, one, go!"

Wait, live? No one had mentioned live, Jeff thought.

He waited a moment, collecting himself. "Good afternoon. This day has been a long time coming, but allow me to introduce myself. My name is Matthew J. Dean, and I'm the President of the United States, by current law."

Somewhere, Jeff swore he could hear his grandmother laughing. The old broad probably thought this made it all worthwhile. "Before anyone starts wondering, yes, all of this has been documented by the UN. I have submitted to proper blood tests and genetic screens to assure that I am who I say."

He leaned forward, looking hard at the camera. "Now, I'd like to speak to President Chancellor. Your administration is over. It is unjust, and illegal, and worse, it is un-American. You have perverted the Bible that you were sworn into office with for your own ends, you have perverted everything you and my grandfather fought for, and you have done it in my family's name. It ends now. If you chose not to turn over the presidency, I will fight you, and I will win."

Jeff shifted, looking down at the notes he'd jotted. "To the American people, I would like to apologize for leaving you in the grip of these tyrants for so long. There have been many political powers at play who would have preferred to never see the day that I took my place. There are still more who have pledged their help in freeing the United States, and helping me to restore it to its former glory. I thank them, and you, for your support."

The light winked out, and Jeff sagged, huffing out a hard breath. "Thank god that's over," he muttered, drawing himself slowly up. Distantly, he realized that he was shaking, but it was all background to the beaming smile Jared was giving him. "I did okay?" he asked.

Jared hugged him tightly. "I love you so much baby. You were...perfect. Everything I would have hoped for."

"Thank you," he whispered. "I love you."

That was his last chance to talk with Jared for a while before he was suddenly engulfed in reporters and bureaucrats. The questions flew hot and heavy. The reporters wanted to know if he was willing to engage in open warfare, if he thought he would ever regain office, how he planned to support the economy without slavery. The bureaucrats asked some of the same questions, but their questions had an element of personal concern. They were invested in this situation, years of service and millions of dollars, and along came Jeff to disrupt it all.

He was still schmoozing when a young man touched his elbow. The man was in the uniform of embassy staff; his nametag read 'Tobey', and he looked like he'd been thrown to the wolves. "Um, sir? Can I have a word?"

"Sure," Jeff said, smiling.

He made his apologies to the politicians, meeting Jared's eyes over their shoulders. Jared must've read Jeff's alarm, because he nodded and came over. Jeff let Tobey beckon him out into the hall, where the guards kept things quiet.

Bisou was there, curled up in a miserable ball against the wall. As soon as she saw them, she whined and lifted one paw off the ground. There was no sign of Kane or Jensen. The knot in Jeff's stomach tightened.

"Sir," Tobey said, "we'd be happy to take your dog up to your rooms, but you can't just leave her unattended-"

"She wasn't unattended." Jeff knelt and took Bisou's paw, wincing when she flinched and tried to pull away. He crooned to her, feeling along her foreleg until she yelped. A break; some motherfucker had hurt his dog. Gritting his teeth, Jeff exhaled and rubbed Bisou's ear. "Sorry, baby. Daddy's real sorry."

Bisou bent and licked his fingers, giving him the big sad eyes.

"Sir," Tobey began again.

Straightening, Jeff turned on the nearest guards. "Where's Christian Kane?"

Two of the guards didn't make eye contact, like that meant Jeff wasn't talking to them. The third and youngest guard shifted uncomfortably, then muttered something.

Jeff wasn't in a patient mood. "What was that?"

The guard shoved his chin out and repeated, "He's in a holding cell."

Aww, Christ. He left Chris alone for five minutes... "What the hell for?"

"Security violation, sir."

Jeff's stomach gave a sickening lurch. Something had gone wrong; while Jeff was off getting laid in a bathroom, something had changed. "What about the man who was with him?" Jeff asked. "Jensen, his brother, where did he-"

The guard's eyes averted, guilty as sin.

Slowly, Jeff folded his hands behind his back to keep from punching someone. He turned back to Jared and said, "Baby, could you take Bisou back to the room? I'll be up in a few with Jen and Kane."

Jared gave him the look, irritation warring with worry.

"Call Tom while you're there," Jeff continued. "And Dr. McCoy. Ask her to call my cell."

Understanding registered. Jared nodded and bent to scoop Bisou up. He tilted towards Jeff, bumping against him. Between Jared groaning and Bisou whining, no one seemed to notice Jeff transferring the gun from the small of Jared's back into his own jacket pocket.

He wouldn't need the gun. That didn't mean he would leave without it. Jensen had warned him that Bentley's people were everywhere. Jeff had slipped, small but unforgivable. He patted Jared's shoulder, like a touchstone, and glanced at the guard again. "Show me to the holding cells."

As it turned out, the security offices were off the beaten track. They looked innocuous, a false quiet echoing in Jeff's ears. The guard kept glancing at him, uneasy. When they reached the office's door, clouded glass obscuring what was going on within, the guard began, "Sir, maybe you should go on upstairs-"

Jeff ignored him and pushed the door open.

The office was banal, neutral colors and elevator music playing overheard. It looked like a hurricane had struck; furniture lay on the floor, walls had been kicked in, and there was paperwork scattered everywhere. One security guard sat in a chair, clutching his bloody nose. Another was nursing a busted lip. Knowing Chris, that was the least of the damage.

"Thank you," Jeff said to his escort, dismissing him. The other man fled.

The officer with the busted lip raised his head, squinting at Jeff. "Sir, you're gonna have to return to your suite. We're experiencing a shortage of personnel at this time-"

"Sorry to hear that. I'm here to take your problem off your hands." Jeff glanced around the office, then at the two guards. "So, which one of you assholes kicked my dog?"

The officers exchanged a look. Busted Lip sighed and pushed himself upright. "Mr. President, you can't take Mr. Kane at this time. He's up on charges for assault-"

"Why?" Jeff asked.

Busted Lip blinked, then explained slowly, "Because he struck several officers-"

"I understand that. I'm asking why he did it. He's worked for the UN for years; if he hit everybody he wanted to, he would've been in custody long before now."

Busted Lip glanced at his buddy again. Jensen was absent, Kane was arrested, and nobody was talking. It was starting to piss Jeff off, as much as it unnerved him. Busted Lip said, "Sir, due to certain concerns, Mr. Kane's companion was escorted to our medical office. Mr. Kane objected."

"Mm. And did Jensen object?"

Another look. "Mr. President, I'm afraid I can't explain that. Again, certain health concerns rose, and in the interest of public safety-"

The language was eerily, damningly familiar. A chill crept up Jeff's spine. He asked, "You put him in quarantine? Why? Under what authority?"

"Sir-"

"Was the World Health Organization contacted? The CDC?" At their silence, Jeff bit off, "Let me get this straight. You're holding Christian fucking Kane in custody because he didn't want his brother, a newly freed slave, dragged off and held in quarantine against his will? A slave who just saved the president's life, gave testimony against a fucking dictator and could be assassinated at any time? One who isn't even a citizen of this country, and whose embassy has not been contacted?"

Busted Lip stared at him.

"Right," Jeff said finally. "Where I come from, that's what they call 'screwing the pooch'. You want to let Kane out, or would you rather I let the press in on this? It wouldn't even be a far walk."

It was a bluff, of course; bringing in the press would shine a spotlight on them all, and potentially kickstart a panic. Words like 'quarantine' generally did. But the threat was enough. Busted Lip grimaced and spun, walking stiffly towards the holding cells. A moment later, Kane stalked out, rubbing his bloody wrists. "Jeff," Kane said immediately, "Jen's-"

"I heard. Point me in the right direction and get your ass upstairs."



Kane glared at him. He was guarding his left side, one arm awkwardly up, but he still protested, "I can--"

"Chris. I need you upstairs with Jare. You're too volatile. I promise, I'm going to get him."

Christian hesitated for another moment, then nodded grudgingly.

"Oh, and Chris?" Jeff added. "Did you see which one of these dicks kicked my girl?"

With a vicious smile, Kane pointed to the one holding his bloody nose. "Him. She bit him in the ass when he grabbed Jensen."

Jeff nodded, walking over to the man. "That what happened?"

"Sir?" Broken Nose asked, his voice clotted thick.

Jeff didn't bother to answer, just slammed the flat of his palm into the man's nose. Blood clung to his skin, and Jeff felt cartilage grind beneath his hand. Broken Nose fell out of the chair to get away from him, scrambling backwards and retching. Busted Lip reached for the weapon at his hip, realized that he was about to taser the president, and halted.

Jeff said, "I don't want to see you near any of my people ever again. If I do, that nose will be the least of your worries. You got it?"

Broken Nose nodded frantically. Satisfied, Jeff stalked out of the office. He distantly noticed Kane following. His vision was a veil of red, fury settling deeper into his bones. Fine, so Jensen was probably sitting in a cubicle somewhere, with nothing more threatening than boredom. That didn't matter. These were his people; while he mouthed words about freedom and justice and his presidency, the goddamn good guys had hurt what was Jeff's.

"Which way is quarantine?" he barked at a nearby guard.

The guard pointed, eyes wide.

"Sir?" came a quiet voice at his elbow.

Jeff turned to find the young female aide looking up at him. Trying for patience, Jeff asked, "Yes?"

"Um. There's a Dr. McCoy at the front desk for you?"

"Good. Have her meet me at the quarantine area." Jeff continued walking.

"Sir?" the aide tried again.

Jeff barely resisted the urge to snap at her. "Yes."

"That's not the way to quarantine. I'll show you." She touched the small communicator. "Please issue Dr. McCoy a visitor badge and escort her to quarantine."

The iron in Jeff's spine softened, letting him relax a little. He shortened his strides so she could catch up. "Thank you, Miss... I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Um. Grace, sir. Grace Parks." Grace smiled.

"Thank you, Ms. Parks."

"My pleasure, sir."

"Jeff, please." Jeff followed her, relaxing fractionally as Sandy showed up with her guard in tow. She was in scrubs, her hair pulled back, fresh from her rounds. "Sandy, it's good to see you."

Sandy flashed him a smirk. "Mr. President, huh?" When Jeff shrugged, Sandy fell in step beside him. "What's the situation? There are plenty of doctors around here. Kane putting up a fuss?"

"I need a Surgeon General," Jeff said bluntly. "Preferably now."

To Sandy's credit, she looked flustered for only a second. "Why?"

"Jensen's in quarantine. He's an US citizen, I'm his president, and my Surgeon General's inspection can get him out."

"Quarantine?" Sandy demanded. "Nobody's issued a UN quarantine since that swine flu outbreak in '59. What the hell happened?"

"Not sure. They questioned Jensen, something came up." As they drew down the hallway, Jeff recognized the glass doors and the signature yellow biohazard sign. The hallway looked dim, barely used, a secret torn wide open. He sighed. "I'm sorry, but I need an answer before we go through those doors."

Sandy pulled to a stop and grabbed Jeff's arm, forcing him to face her. She searched his face for a long moment, then nodded. "I accept."

Jeff exhaled. His throat felt tight. He glanced at Grace. "Witnessed?"

"Witnessed," Grace said firmly.

"Okay, then. Thank you." Jeff clasped Sandy's shoulder; she felt small under his hand. He was throwing her to the wolves, and he knew it. "Thanks."

They went to the quarantine. The sight of it made Jeff ill, ugly familiarity in the plastic walls and the violently yellow tarp hiding its contents from view. There were red handprints on the doorframe, a spiderweb fracture on the inner door. Jensen had fought.

As much as Jeff wanted to kick the fucking door down, he stepped up and pressed the intercom button.

The staticky reply came immediately: "This ward is currently off-limits by WHO Act 341, Subset 12. Please step away from the doors."

Jeff searched his memory; Act 341 was the one for suspected, not confirmed, viral contaminants. He was walking in blind, but at least they were confused as he was.

"Open the door," Jeff said.

"This ward is currently off-limits by WHO Act--"

"Yeah? Your guinea pig is a US citizen. By Act 524 you're required to allow the surgeon general access to your quarantine." Silence. Jeff waited for a minute, drumming his fingers on the plastic; he could hear the blip of a heart monitor and a steady whine that worried him. He couldn't hear Jensen. Finally, Jeff said, "Open the fucking door before I kick it in."

Someone came to the door and seemed startled to see them. He was dressed in the facemask that had replaced full CDC gear, covered to the elbow in thick gloves. There was blood smeared across the front of his scrubs. "Mr. President," the doctor began, his voice crackly and muffled, "a representative from the CDC and the WHO will be happy to explain the situation to you, but we can't-"

"I've been in the house with Jensen for the last four days. He's been in my bed. If he's got something, I've already been infected. Please move aside."

The guy started to shut the door. Jeff shoved his shoulder against it, forcing it open all the way.

"Sir-" An attendant grabbed his arm, trying to hold him back. Jeff rounded on him, eyes narrowing. He felt Sandy brush past them, heading deeper into the quarantine. "Sir, she can't-"

"Did you miss the part where she's the Surgeon General of the United States? You will not treat one of my citizens like this. I don't give a good goddamn what Addams said."

The attendant stepped back, eyes wide. "I--sorry, Mr. President."

"Jeff," Sandy said quietly. Tension thrummed under her voice. Jeff should've been prepared. He wasn't.

When he turned, it took a moment for him to recognize the figure on the bed as Jensen.

They'd laid on the gurney naked, execution-style, with his arms strapped to planks that held them open. It gave them ample access to the IVs that seemed to bristle from every available vein. They hadn't dealt with the surgical cuts or the lacerations from the assassin, just stuck more tubes in to collect more samples. A tube ran into his mouth, attached to a breathing machine, and more went up each nostril. A tech was standing at his head, holding one of them, seemingly feeding it down his throat via his nose. A catheter lay next to him, ready for insertion.

These were the people Jeff was allied with. These were the good guys.

Jeff moved slowly at first, half-afraid of what he'd do if his hand brushed Jared's gun. Fuck the oxygen tanks, fuck every one of these goddamn parasites, fuck politics. If he touched the gun, he'd kill them all.

As he drew close, he could see Jensen's eyes were closed. He was unconscious. Thank God for small mercies.

"What are you doing?" Jeff asked the tech, very quietly.

She must've heard something in his voice, because her answer was wary. "Sputum sample, sir."

There was blood on Jensen's lip, blood on the tube down his throat. Jeff studied it all, burned it into his memory. This was the price for his mistakes. Then he slid his jacket off and spread it over Jensen's hips, covering him from view. "Fine. Now get all of it off him."

"Sir?"

"Get it off of him," Jeff bit off. "This patient was certified healthy by my surgeon general on arrival to Canada."

"But sir, he admitted that Bentley was using him to test new strains of Deathknell."

The floor seemed to lurch beneath his feet. Fuck. So that was what Bentley meant by his apostle. Jeff took a breath, small sips of air that tasted like oily smoke. It hadn't gotten to that point, not yet. The air was clean. But he wanted to gag anyway.

"Did you get blood samples?"

"Yes sir," the tech said slowly.

Jeff nodded curtly and gestured Sandy over. "Pull the tubes, get him loose."

The tech stared. "Sir-!"

It didn't matter; Sandy was already sliding past her, her gloved hands brisk on the tubes and wires. She undid the restraints first. The quarantine crew had torn off the bandage over Jensen's tattoo, his freedom bar hidden by the leather straps. Sandy murmured to him as she worked, all the quiet words Jeff wished he could say.

Instead, he turned his attention to the quarantine staff, who hung back like they were afraid to touch him. They'd be smart to think so.

"If you need anything further from Mr. Ackles, you may contact my executive assistant," Jeff said. He glanced over at Grace. "Assuming you'd want the job?"

Her eyes widened. "Never did like it here much, sir."

Jeff gave her a smile. "Good. in that case, Ms. Parks'll leave contact information. But Jensen's not staying here."

Behind the doctor in his facemask, someone was calling security.

"Mr. President," the tech began. "I understand that this may seem somewhat extreme-"

Sandy hissed suddenly, studying the IV bag they'd had Jensen hooked up to. Grabbing it off the rack, she shook it at them. "Scopolamine? You put a goddamn ex-slave in paralyzed twilight? What the fuck is wrong with you people?"

"He's out," the tech shot back. "You're the one who's putting him at risk for-"

"Sandy," Jeff said, jerking her attention back. "Damage's done. Just get him off the wires so we can go."

With a last glower, Sandy impaled the IV bag on its rack again. "I swear to God, I will see your licenses revoked for violation of ethics," she said darkly. But she said it while she pulled IVs, so Jeff let it pass.

With all the drugs, it took a good thirty minutes before Sandy felt safe unhooking Jensen from the ventilator. The doctors fussed, but none of them wanted to approach. It might have been the dark glare Jeff shot at anyone who moved. More likely, it was the gun holster he'd clipped at his hip, in full view.

When the door to the quarantine opened, his hand twitched towards it before recognizing the figure entering as none other than Addams himself. Addams had one hell of a black eye; Jeff recognized Kane's handiwork and was bitterly glad to see it.

"Mr. Dean!" Addams began, "What is the meaning of--"

Jeff cut him off. "Now I'm Mr. Dean? Should I go alert the press?"

"I'm sorry. I mean Mr. President," Addams amended.

"No, I don't think you did. You all are so hot to have me paint a neon target on my ass that you forgot one thing. I am my grandfather's heir. In every way that entails. You cannot bully me. You cannot bully the people under my protection. And if you do, I will come down on you with everything that I am. Do you understand me?"

Addams drew up to his full height. "Sir, you can't threaten-"

"Yes. I can. You need me, and I don't need you. I can just as easily go back to Egypt and disappear into a warlord's stronghold. I survived without this bureaucratic bullshit for thirty years, and I'm not about to start kissing your ass now."

"Sir, I-" Addams blanched pale.

"No. Either you're recognizing me as the President, or not. If you are, then this man is one of my constituents and you have no authority over him. He was checked for contaminants and found clean. If you want to work on a vaccine or a cure for the new strain, fine. You'll do it at Fairbanks General or Nagawa Memorial or whatever, with his consent. Until that time, you can fuck off."

Addams stared up at him, a vein pulsing in his temple. He was furious, impotent with it, and scared out of his mind. Any other time, Jeff might've pitied him. "Thousands of lives may hang in the balance," Addams said finally, his voice hoarse. "You can't be so irresponsible as to risk another plague for the sake of one refugee."

"He's clean," Jeff said. "Jesus, Addams, think. He's been in Canada for almost a week with no symptoms. Deathknell doesn't incubate that long."

"It didn't. It may now." Addams shook his head, looking suddenly weary. "Fine. Make your grand gesture. If this comes to another plague, I'll see you crucified for it."

Judging from Addams' tone, he wanted Jeff crucified regardless. He wouldn't forget the powerplay.

Fine. Jeff could do without people like Addams on his side.

Turning back to Sandy, Jeff found her pulling the last tube out. Jensen choked weakly as Sandy eased the plastic free, and half the people in the room flinched. The paranoia was sadly familiar. Sandy just wiped Jensen's mouth and the tube, business-like as usual. "Jeff, would you rather carry him up or put him on the gurney?"

"I've got him." Irrational as it was, Jeff didn't want to bring anything from this room with them. He wanted to scour his skin raw as it was.

When he approached the gurney, Jeff felt his stomach clench at the stark bruises on Jensen's wrists where the straps had cut in. He bent, lifting Jensen with ease, and hoisting him close. It left him vulnerable, unable to draw his gun in an emergency. Then again, if he needed a gun, he'd probably already lost.

With Grace leading them, they made it to the back elevator and up to the room without further incident. Jeff wasn't sure what the hell expression he was wearing, but everyone seemed determined not to meet his eyes. That was fine. He tracked Jensen's breathing, humid puffs of air against his throat.

I'm sorry, Jeff thought. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

But that wasn't ever going to be enough.

Their room was at the end of the hall, guarded by two men in suits. They were irrelevant so long as Christian was around, but appearances mattered. They seemed unsurprised to see their principle wander up to the door with a naked man cradled to his chest. Rumor spread fast. Jeff nodded at them and let Grace knock.

Jared answered the door before Grace's knuckles pulled back. All the color bled away from his face when he saw Jensen. He met Jeff's eyes, already reaching to take Jensen, and a silent understanding passed between them. Then Jared let his arms drop and stepped out of the way. "Bedroom's back this way. Kane's already there."

Jeff followed. His arms and back were burning like hell, but he didn't want to hand Jensen over. He needed the weight to keep himself steady. The rooms were lush and gorgeous, but Jeff had stayed in more comfortable crackhouses. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight.

When they reached the bedroom, Jeff saw what Jared meant. Christian was on the bed already, stripped to the waist with bandages wrapped pale around his ribs. He stiffened when he saw Jensen, looking sharply at Jeff, but didn't speak.

Jeff got to the bed and lowered Jensen down, wincing as Jensen lolled like he'd been broken. Jeff's jacket slid off Jensen's hips, but Christian was already there, tugging the comforter over Jensen and smoothing it down. Christian patted Jensen down, checking vitals, his expression the tight mask that was as close to frantic as Christian would ever get. He settled when he found a pulse, but not by much.

Then Sandy was there, her hand on Jeff's arm. "Honey, I need to sit."

Yeah. Apparently the president looked like such crap he was being demoted to 'honey'. Because there wasn't much he could do otherwise, Jeff let himself be nudged out of the way. Sandy steered him back into Jared, which Jeff doubted was an accident. Jared's hands wrapped around Jeff's arms, steadying and solid.

"You stay," Sandy ordered, giving Christian a stern look. "He's not all the way out or in. Talk, keep him calm, let him know you're there."

Christian looked up at her. "You sure I'm the one to-"

"Just run your goddamn mouth, Kane."

Sandy let Christian stay where he was as she stitched Jensen closed and hooked him up to a new round of IVs. Christian bent down, eyes half-closed, murmuring things Jeff couldn't hear. Jeff hung back, arms crossed. He knew he ought to sink back into Jared, or at least say something. The problem was, all his words had dried to ash.

Deathknell.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jared's fingers skimmed down Jeff's arms. Twining their hands together, Jared leaned his chin on Jeff's shoulder and said, "Bisou's milking the guards for bacon."

It was such an irrational thing to come up with that Jeff choked on a laugh. He had to, just like he had to close his eyes a moment later against the burn of tears. "Well, all right."

"Yeah." Squeezing Jeff's fingers, Jared sighed. "So how bad is it?"

"Bad enough."

Jared hummed. They stood like that for a few minutes, watching Sandy work. Then Jared's arms came around him in a loose embrace.

It didn't take long for word to spread, of course.

Within an hour, Japan had withdrawn their offer of sanctuary. They'd still provide air and naval support, but they didn't want Jensen within their borders.

Hawaii was equally divided, with their rulers choosing to take a "wait and see" approach. If in a month everyone was still alive, they would be willing to negotiate with the President.

Alaska was their only choice.

Comments

[wyoluvr.livejournal.com]

best breakfast ever!

[topaz119.livejournal.com]

"Just run your goddamn mouth, Kane."

::loves::

[qwertypoiuq.livejournal.com]

It's seriously ridiculous how fast my heart is racing, really. I think they must've heard my squeal of joy at seeing this updated all the way in space! But oh Jensen ;_; you gals sure know how to twist the knife. Excellent and thrilling as always! ♥

[ymmy12.livejournal.com]

as intense as ever
wonderfl way to start the week

[bathsweaver.livejournal.com]

Oh my God, THANK YOU. Cannot wait to read this. Love this series, absolutely love it.

\o/

[sea-yeah.livejournal.com]

OMG - you don't know how happy I am to see an update. I love this verse from Heaven to Hell *insert over-dramaitc music*

Poor Jensen...*sobs*

What's the 'paralyzed twilight'? Will we find out more? Or am I stupid?

[romp.livejournal.com]

Scopolamine (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scopolamine)
I think the idea is that he's paralyzed while in an ananesthetized state between consciousness and unconsciousness. So he's likely aware of movement and sound but unable to move. Not a nice thing to do to a torture victim.
/my take on it

[way2busymom.livejournal.com]

Yeah. Just yeah.

Jeff gave me goosebumps & Sandy? Wins!

[phantomas.livejournal.com]

I love all the characters, Jeff most of all, but I confess to a soft spot for your Kane :)

And you HURT BISOU!!! *is horrified*
No doggies or other pets will be hurt again, pwmise?

:)

I love it, Jeff's rage for Bisou, Kane and Jensen is nothing short of brilliant.

Thanks!

[hellinabucket93.livejournal.com]

I'm so happy you updated.
Poor Jensen, how horrible.
He is aware as they put all those tubes and IV's into him isn't he?
It must be terrifying for him that he can't move and can't make them stop. He probably thought he was going to be trapped that way until they killed him. As if he wasn't already messed up in the head.
Good thing he had Jeff to the rescue.

[littledrop.livejournal.com]

Oh my god, you made me flap like a mad woman and post about it. In two journals! So, so, so thrilled to see Jeff rescue Jensen, and Chris being excellent, and Bisou being adorable and Jared being all supportive. Yay! What a great way to finish my day. Thank you!

[mss-celestal.livejournal.com]

Thank god they got in out of there, but I hope that too much damage wasn't inflicted.

Great job, can't wait for more!!

[aynslee.livejournal.com]

Break my heart! *cries*

Lovely update, so moving the way Jeff takes care of his people.

[without-me.livejournal.com]

If you guys would stop regularly making me incoherent, you'd get better feedback. Srsly. *flails*

[ysbail.livejournal.com]

Seriously, seeing this on my FList made my day.

[apieceofcake.livejournal.com]

Intense *vbg*

[candygramme.livejournal.com]

OMG, this is really getting exciting. I can't remember the last time I read such a well crafted thriller. Poor Jensen. Fix him, please, ladies. I really hate seeing him in such a state.

And go, Jeff. Too bad he didn't shoot a few people, just to encourage the rest.

[(Anonymous)]

Excellent work. This chapter was just haunting. I loved it!
Can't wait for more...

[kbpen.livejournal.com]

Guh! This is too good. I agree with Jared, watching Jeff being all presidential is hot. It is such a relief they are all back together again. Let the healing begin!

[devil-does-cry.livejournal.com]

I think my heart skipped a beat or two when I saw this on my flist. It's almost scary how much I love and enjoy this 'verse. You guys are fucking awesome :)

And I love straight-to-business Jeff. That's some hot stuff.

[hammerhead22.livejournal.com]

:flails:

I was late to a meeting this morning so I could finish this chapter and I'm NEVER late. This series makes my heart race and want to save them all.

More soon?

:begs:

[glitterglam13.livejournal.com]

Jeff for the win!!!! I knew he'd rescue Jensen and put things as right as possible. Poor Jensen though, it's trauma on top of trauma for him. And Jeff feeling guilty for letting his guard down for just a little while. I wanted to hug them both. Chris and Jared where amazing as always too.
I'll never get tired of saying this: I'm so absolutely in love with this 'verse, I'm almost obsessed. Every time I see you posted a new chapter, I flail all over the place and can't stop smiling.

[(Anonymous)]

birthday cake and champagne and now this. best birthday ever!

cheers ladies ♥

[fureux.livejournal.com]

um, maybe too much champagne. that was me, btw. doh.

[inimicallyyours.livejournal.com]

Well.

Poor Jensen, poor damn Jensen. I just, *sniff*. Boy can not get a break, can he? I have to say that the idea of brotherly-love between him and Kane is growing on me like crazy. And the scene you wrote, where Jensen's all spread-eagled and stuck with the iv tubes in his wounds...shivers!

(Also, *loves*)

[deathangelgw.livejournal.com]

gack.......gaaaaaaaaaaack that was awesome! and you ended it there!1 you torment us you beautiful talented lovely ladies!!! GAAAAAAAAAH NEED MORE!!!!

[eloise-bright.livejournal.com]

There were red handprints on the doorframe, a spiderweb fracture on the inner door. Jensen had fought.

Wonderfully spare and powerful use of words. So much terror encapsulated in that short sentence.

Oh, if he wasn't broken before... poor Jensen. I ache for him - but yeah, I can (I'm ashamed to admit) see why the others react as they do. Something that destroyed a nation, a plague so terrible, the very thought that it might be revived - I can understand the complete and utter over-reaction here. The scene in the quaratine room felt horribly real.

I have a thing about plague stories. I still regularly wake up in a cold sweat having dreamt scenes from 28 Days Later.

*wibbles*