In the Darkest Place (In Between 11 and 12, PG13)

[Shadow]

Disclaimer: Moonlight is not mine and no copyright infringement is intended.










IN BETWEEN
eleven and twelve





In the Darkest Place




“If you hate what you are so much, then why do you go on living?”

The pain of Beth’s words hit so hard that Mick could scarcely breathe, even though it was his own fault for coming to her too soon, when she could see nothing in her life but grief.

You make me want to.

But this was no time to tell her the truth. “I’m not really sure,” he said instead, stumbling on the words. “I’m not really sure.”

His floundering only made her angry; she turned away from him, every part of her body saying, as she’d said out loud before, stay away from me. He couldn’t tell her the whole truth; it would only hurt her to hear it now, but he could at least offer her a part of it. “I did a lot of bad things after I was turned, Beth,” he said quietly. He stared at the candle flames and photographs beside her, but they faded in his sight as old images flared up before him: the nightmares that hurt so much, the ones he tried so hard not to remember. He saw the terror in their faces, saw the blood, heard their screams . . . “Things that you could never imagine. Things I carry tremendous amounts of guilt about.” He swallowed, focusing on Beth’s shadowed face, on her tangled hair, trying to drive away the memories. “I want to make up for them.”

She stayed still, her head bowed, as if she hadn’t heard him, as if she hadn’t felt the pain in his voice. “Beth,” he said desperately.

She finally looked up at him, and his heart fell, because she hadn’t understood. Maybe she hadn’t even been listening. “I just can’t stop thinking about him,” she said. “If you’d have done it, he’d still be here.” Her voice was hoarse, ragged, full of tears. “What if it were me lying there instead of Josh, seconds from death - would you have saved me?”

Mick flinched, but tried not to show it, tried to keep his face calm.

“Would you have saved me?” she said again, her voice almost a whisper now. And there was only one answer he could possibly give her.

“I would have done the same thing,” he said steadily.

Beth turned away from him in a wash of despair. She didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. Not now. Maybe not ever. “Beth . . .”

“Please, just leave.” Her voice was haunted. “Don’t say anything else. I need space; I need you to go away. I don’t want you near me right now, okay? I can’t stand it.”

She was crying again, deep wrenching sobs that hurt his heart almost as much as her words did. Mick backed away from her. He stepped silently from her bedroom to the balcony, the windblown curtains brushing against his face, cool and soft. He leaped to the ground, and Beth’s hot bitter rage slowly faded from his mind. With one last glance at her window, he moved into the shadows, and slipped away.














But he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Two houses down and one across, he climbed swiftly to a rooftop where he could still see the softly flickering light from Beth’s window. The memory of her words burned him like fire, and his mind was full of new visions that almost drove away the old nightmares: Beth turning her back on him, the people in the bar staring at the face of the monster, the flashing lights and gaudy colors, the daze of revenge and hot blood.

It hadn't just been revenge, though. Mick had no regrets over that death, and nothing at all to make up for. Tejada had been the true monster, a man who'd deliberately destroyed every life he came across. He'd come so close to murdering Beth . . . Mick only regretted that he hadn’t killed Tejada sooner. He would have, if he’d known where to find the man. And Mick wished that he'd killed Huerta today, or at least hit him twice as hard. If only he'd guessed that Huerta would regain consciousness so quickly, that there was another gun in the car . . .

Stop it. He couldn't have known what would happen, and he had enough nightmares to dwell on without adding more.

Beth was standing right there when Josh was hit. It could have been her lying there, bleeding to death in front of me.

Trembling, Mick slid off the roof, dropped into the grass below, and put his head in his hands.

He’d told Beth that he would have done the same thing, and he thought he’d convinced her, but he hadn’t told her the truth. The truth was, he didn’t know what he would have done. All the choices were horrific. It had been terrible enough to have to watch Josh die . . . . what if it had been Beth? Oh God, I could never have let it happen! But to turn her, especially in such a state . . . he imagined Beth as a new-turned vampire, eyes glittering white with rage, the blood of her victims dripping off her fangs. No. He slammed his fists against his head, trying to drive the image away. Turning was worse than death, for a mortally long time.

It isn’t so much that I hate what I am now. What I truly hate is the road I had to travel to get here.

He’d told Beth that turning someone into a vampire wasn’t saving a life, it was taking one. But that wasn’t strictly true. Turning someone into a vampire resulted, usually, in the taking of many lives.

Oh, Beth. What would I have done, if it had been you?














When Mick finally made his way back to his car, Josef was waiting there, leaning against the passenger door and gazing out into the night. Mick hesitated, his thoughts echoing Beth’s: I don’t want to talk to anyone. He hadn’t wanted to talk to Josef earlier, either, which was why he’d ignored all of his calls. But Josef was nothing if not persistent. Mick braced himself for argument, strode to the car, and got in.

“You need a ride?” he asked casually.

“Nope.” Josef settled himself in the passenger seat.

“What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer my calls. I figured I’d find you somewhere around here.”

“You know where Beth lives?” Well, of course he did . . . but somehow, Mick found it disturbing.

“I know where everybody lives.”

“So why are you really here, Josef?”

“Well, you were in the news again.”

“I was?” There hadn’t been any cameras or reporters on the scene when Josh died, and surely Josef wasn’t talking about what had happened at the Hollenback bar.

“An interview with a paramedic,” Josef went on. “He mentioned your heroic efforts to save ADA Lindsay after the man was gunned down in Griffith Park. He seemed quite impressed with your medical skills.”

“Oh.” The paramedics had been astonished at what Mick had done, but he’d never imagined it would go public. “I just – I had to try everything I knew.”

“Things a P.I. would know how to do?”

“Maybe. Field medicine is mostly just common sense.” Josef looked dubious, but he didn’t argue. Mick said, more quietly, “Beth asked me to turn him.”

“She did?” Josef looked startled. “I wouldn’t have expected that. I gather you didn’t do it.”

“Of course not. Josh is dead, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Even if he’d wanted to turn Josh, how would it have been possible? Nothing could have been more public – there had been cops everywhere, there’d been an ambulance pulling in. And with the violence and trauma Josh had endured, a turning would have been disastrous.

Would I have tried it anyway, if it had been Beth?

“I suppose Beth doesn’t know what a supremely bad idea that would have been,” Josef said.

“No, she doesn’t. She only knows the basics about turning.”

“Pretty much what you knew, forty years ago?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.” Mick glared at Josef. “Thanks so much for reminding me. Anyway – so I was on the news. Big deal.”

“The Cleaners also got one hell of a call tonight. They found a sleazy bar turned into wreckage, a couple of dead guys with bullets in them, and a guy by the name of Chemma Tejada with fang marks in his throat and all his blood drained. By some odd coincidence, Tejada was being prosecuted by ADA Lindsay.”

“So? Once the Cleaners are done, who’s gonna put all that together?”

Josef sighed and said, “It’s not that much of a stretch. Did anyone see you vamp out? Anyone who's still alive, that is?”

Uneasily Mick thought of Bustos in the interrogation room, screaming about devils; he thought of all the people in the bar who’d seen him transform. Would any of them speak to the police? The gang members would scatter and disappear, and surely nobody who’d been in the bar that night would go near a cop . . . but he wasn’t all that certain about the girls who’d been there dancing. “Nobody who’ll talk,” he said out loud, trying to sound confident.

But Josef knew him too well. “Right,” he said. “Well, the Cleaners are good at their job, and I’ll do what I can to cover things up. Just be a little more discreet next time, will you?” He leaned back in the seat and said, “So. How’s Beth taking it?”

Mick shook his head. “Badly.”

“Well, that’s grief and guilt for you. What about Elaine? How’s she doing?”

“Elaine’s hanging in there.” Guilt?

“You ready to tell me what happened in New York?”

“No.”

“Mick, I spend a lot of time in New York. If there’s a hazard there, I need to know about it.”

“There’s not a hazard.”

Josef glanced toward Mick’s wrists, and Mick self-consciously folded his arms, even though the marks were long healed.

“Seriously, Josef. There’s not any danger, to you or to anybody else. Not any more. And it was all a misunderstanding, anyway. So can you just drop it?”

“When my best friend nearly gets killed, I have a little trouble just dropping it.”

“Look, let it go,” Mick said in frustration, “and I won’t ask – like I’ve been meaning to ask - how you just happened to survive an explosion that killed everyone else in the room.”

Josef’s eyes went wide, and Mick cursed himself for the way that had come out. “I didn’t mean it like -- ” he started, but Josef cut him off.

“I don’t know what happened, okay? I saw the guy throw the bomb, and I guess I reacted on instinct. I don’t know how I moved fast enough to get clear, but I must have. First thing I remember, I was out in the street a block away, watching the building burn.”

It was impossible even for Mick to tell if a vampire was telling the truth. He thought Josef was being straight with him, but still . . . something seemed off. Is he hiding something from me? It wouldn’t be the first time. No wonder the Cleaners are working on a truth drug . . .

But then, Mick was most assuredly hiding something from Josef, so he was hardly in a position to complain. “Okay. I get it. But I still can’t tell you about New York. Look, can’t you just trust me on this? I’m perfectly okay with what happened.”

“If you’re okay with what happened, you’re out of your mind, Mick.”

“Please. Trust me.”

Josef stared at him for a long time, and then, finally, nodded. “All right, then. Not that I’m the trusting type . . . but I’m not much for beating my head against brick walls.” With an exaggerated sigh, he got out of the car and shut the door behind him.

“Thanks for getting the car fixed, by the way,” Mick said, gesturing at the gleaming hood of the Mercedes.

“Not a problem. I’ll send you the bill.”

Mick smiled briefly, and then became serious again. “And thank you for leaving me at Elaine’s.”

Josef shrugged, not looking at him. “I thought it might help,” he said, and then he was gone, vanishing almost instantly into the darkness. A moment later, Mick heard the Ferrari’s engine, and he listened as the sound faded into the distance. He hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone . . . but with Josef gone, he suddenly felt very much alone.

He looked back toward Beth’s apartment, longing to return, if only to spend the rest of the night on her balcony. But she didn’t want him there, and he knew she was safe. He didn’t need to reassure himself of that, at least not yet. But something was making him uneasy, unsettled, something beyond Beth’s misery and the potential consequences of the fight at the Hollenback bar. He thought of Elaine, all alone, without even someone to watch over any more.

Beth doesn’t need me right now. But I think Elaine does.
















When he reached Elaine’s house it was dark and empty, and there was no trace of her presence. Mick drove on to the beach and stopped in an empty parking lot, gravel crunching under the car’s tires. It was cold and dark, the waves pounding under a chill wind, and he pulled his coat tighter around him. He’d mostly recovered from the silver, and from the drug he’d been given, but he wasn’t completely back to normal. He could only tolerate the freezer for a few hours at a time, and today the sun had hit him hard, burning his eyes and sapping his strength. Thank God the necklace Beth had given him hadn’t been silver. In fact, she hadn’t worn silver since . . . when? Since she found out I was a vampire. She’d worn gold, white gold, and simple stainless steel jewelry, but she’d never once worn silver.

He shivered, thinking of the way he’d used the necklace. You learn a lot in war, he’d told Beth, but his war memories weren’t the only ones that had been stirred by Josh’s death. Mick hadn’t just remembered his friends who had fallen in combat, the ones he’d tried and failed to save. He’d remembered Elaine, lying in that dark back alley, covered in blood.

Mick slowly got out of the car and stood beside it, sliding his hand across the glossy new paint on the Mercedes’ front fender. If only people could be put back together the same way cars could be repaired. If only humans could heal the way vampires did, without the darkness and the killing and the blood. If only I’d been able to save Josh. If only I’d been able to save Elaine.

He looked back out across the beach, and saw a lone figure in the distance, heading his way. He wasn’t at all surprised. The combination of the silver and the drug in his body had somehow enhanced his connection with Elaine; that was fading now, but still . . . he knew, without needing to catch a scent or see her face, exactly who was walking toward him. I was drawn here, I think. Or she was.

He thought again, sadly, of Beth. He’d planned to tell her how he really felt about her. He’d even planned to tell her about Elaine. It wasn’t right for him to be keeping such a huge secret from her. But he couldn’t tell her about Elaine now. Would he ever be able to? Could she ever understand his refusal to turn Josh, if she knew that he had turned someone else?

He watched as Elaine slowly moved closer, and he remembered.
















The Starfire Club had been semi-exclusive, but Chloe and Elaine had gotten in somehow on their fake ID’s. It had been Chloe’s doing, Mick imagined; one look from those glorious eyes would certainly have overcome any gatekeeper. Elaine, too plain and shy for the club, would have slipped inside in Chloe’s wake.

Mick and Tyler wafted in easily, without even a thought that their way might be barred. Tyler swung in a delighted circle, taking in the lights, the music, the crowds of humans. “Far out!” he cried, pushing his way inside. “Drinks, dancing . . . gorgeous, amazing women . . .” Tyler gazed around as he moved forward, staring appreciatively at every woman he saw. His smile was contagious; every woman smiled back at him, and looked suddenly radiant. Out on the floor Mick saw Chloe, blond hair flying loose, dancing wildly with a boy not much older than she was. Elaine sat nearby, alone at a table, her shoulders hunched. When Chloe glanced at her, Elaine looked up with a smile. The expression was obviously false to Mick’s eyes, but it seemed to reassure Chloe, who danced on. Mick made his way to Elaine’s table, concerned by how lost she looked, and Tyler came with him.

“Can we join you?” Mick asked.

Elaine started, and stared up at them in shock before she recognized them. “Oh,” she said faintly. “Um, yes. Of course.”

“I’ll get some drinks,” Tyler said. “Elaine, what are you having?”

“What? Oh! Nothing, thank you.” Elaine flushed.

“Oh, come on, you’ve got to get something! How about a coke?”

“Well – okay, then.”

Tyler vanished into the crowd, and Elaine gazed down at her hands. Her heart was racing wildly, and Mick suddenly regretted coming to her table. He’d hoped to make her feel better, but he was only scaring her. He was, after all, an older man she didn’t really know. What could he say that might put her at ease? Between the fumes in the air, the flashing bright lights, and the lack of sleep, he was hardly at his best. In fact, the lights were hurting his eyes, bringing back the afternoon’s raging headache.

“So,” Mick said at last. “No Beatles?”

Elaine shook her head, not looking up.

“Didn’t think they’d show. But it looks like Chloe’s having fun.”

Elaine glanced out at the dance floor, and her face softened in a genuine smile. “Yes, she is.”

“How about you?”

She shrugged. Her face was hot, and she was trying not to cry. Mick took a breath, and heard the echo of a comment she’d heard not five minutes ago: who let the ugly bitch in here?

“You know,” Mick said, “some people are just morons.”

Elaine looked up at him, startled.

“Look, you want to get out of here? I’ll get a cab for you, pay the fare.”

She hesitated, obviously tempted, but finally shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t leave Chloe here alone. And she’s having so much fun – I don’t want to spoil her night.”

“You’re a good friend,” Mick said quietly, and then Tyler was back, juggling two beers and a glass of coke. Chloe joined them seconds later, flushed and bright-eyed, excited to see Mick and Tyler.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Chloe said. “I didn’t think we’d get to see you guys again.” She grabbed Tyler’s beer, took a gulp, and made a face. Hesitantly Elaine reached for her coke and sipped at it. “This place is great,” Chloe went on brightly. “I wish George and Paul were really here, but I love it anyway! There’s so much energy; you can just feel it!” Chloe was so enthused, Mick wondered if she was high, but he could only smell faint traces of alcohol and marijuana on her. It’s just Chloe, loving life.

Tyler took his beer back from her. “So is there gonna be live music later on?”

“Nope.” Chloe shook her head. “Everybody was playing at the festival instead, and that thing about the Beatles was just a rumor. But they’ve got a really good DJ, don’t you think?”

Chloe’s bright chatter had calmed Elaine; her heart rate had slowed and she was starting to relax. “Yeah, they’ve played some good songs,” she said.

“Good stuff for dancing, too,” Chloe said, as a boy hesitantly approached her. She gave him a dazzling smile, accepted his stammering invitation to dance, and followed him out to the floor, her blond hair swinging behind her. Elaine wistfully watched them go, swirling her straw through the remains of her drink. Mick found himself wishing that someone would ask her to dance. But none of the boys here would ever look twice at her.

“Hey, look who’s here!” Tyler said suddenly, pointing toward the bar, and Mick saw two of the freshies from Half Moon House, sitting on bar stools and swaying to the music. “I’m gonna go say hi,” Tyler said. “Mick, you coming?”

Mick hesitated. “Sure,” he said reluctantly. Elaine’s heartbeat had returned to normal when Chloe and Tyler had joined them, but he knew she’d get nervous again if he stayed with her alone. He followed Tyler across the crowded club to meet the freshies – he didn’t remember their names, but Tyler did, of course: Daphne and Josie.

“So, you want a drink?” Daphne said suggestively, looking up at Mick through her lashes, and his own pulse quickened. It suddenly seemed like ages since the last time he’d fed. He hadn’t had time to take Rebecca up on her invitation this afternoon, and the sun had brought on a strong thirst as well as a headache. Tyler had already slipped into a back hallway with Josie, and Mick grabbed Daphne by the hand and followed them. But the blood didn’t make Mick feel any better at all. Daphne’s blood was heavy with drugs - hash, grass and speed all mixed together - and the taste was strange. He pulled away from her before he was halfway sated, and his headache, if anything, seemed worse.

Tyler and Josie were already back in the club when Mick led Daphne out of the dark hallway. Mick glanced quickly at the dance floor, but there was no sign of Chloe there, and the table where Elaine had been sitting was empty.

He nudged Tyler and asked, “Do you see the girls?”

Tyler gestured broadly to Daphne and Josie. “Mick, my man, they’re right here.”

Mick rolled his eyes. “Chloe and Elaine.”

“Oh, they took off a little while ago. You didn’t see? I think Chloe finally realized that Elaine wasn’t having a good time.”

“Oh.” Mick was glad that Chloe had picked up on Elaine’s discomfort, but he felt an odd pang, realizing that he hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye. The girls were from Los Angeles, but what were the odds that he’d ever see them again? He didn’t even know their last names. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, wincing as a strobe light flashed across his face and burned his eyes. “Listen, I’m gonna take off too. See you back at the house?”

“Give me five minutes to finish this beer, and I’ll come with you.”

“No, don’t rush. I’ll just see you there. I’ve got to get out of these lights – headache.”

Tyler nodded amiably, and Mick slipped quietly out the front door, leaving the noise and lights and smoke behind him. He took a deep breath: the air was stale, heavy with fog and rotting trash, but it was fresher than the air inside the club. He headed south, alone on the empty street. The fog was thick, swirling around him in a dark cloud, and the street was nearly empty. Only an occasional car drove by, headlights faint in the murk. Soon Mick couldn’t hear the sound of the music from the club any more, or even feel its vibrations. Alone again. The city around him felt suddenly empty, and lonely depression washed over him. Wish I’d waited for Tyler after all.

Out of the silence he heard a footfall, a whisper of a voice, and he stopped to listen. Ahead of him, a slim figure stumbled out of an alley and fell to its knees – a girl, her hands held to her throat. He ran to her at vamp speed, suddenly terrified. It was Chloe.

She was soaked in blood, her blond hair red with it; her clothes were torn and her eyes were dark and glassy. Mick dropped beside her and she flinched away from him with a muffled cry.

“Chloe, it’s me. It’s Mick.”

“Mick?” Her voice was a ghost - even with his acute hearing he could barely understand her. She fell toward him and he caught her in his arms as gently as he could, afraid of hurting her.

“Chloe, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ll get you to a hospital, all right?” He couldn’t tell where the blood was coming from, and there was so much blood . . . he breathed in, and realized that almost none of it was Chloe’s.

“Not me,” Chloe whispered, struggling desperately to make the sounds. Her throat was bruised and swollen, marked with the deep purple imprints of someone’s hands. “Elaine.” She pointed to the alley she’d come from, and Mick caught her up and ran.

Elaine lay some thirty yards down the alley, utterly still, her body half hidden behind a pile of boxes. Mick put Chloe down, pushing her behind him, and knelt beside Elaine, feeling himself go numb with shock. He hadn’t seen anything like this since the war. God, he hadn’t seen anything this bad during the war. There were things he’d seen on the battlefield that he couldn’t speak of, things he tried desperately to never think of, but this . . .

She was still alive. He didn’t understand how that was possible, but she was. And she was conscious; she stared up at him with terror in her eyes. Almost by reflex he reached out to put pressure on the wound at the side of her throat. He saw a knife, lying where it had been dropped by her side, nearly immersed in a pool of her blood. There were so many wounds, so terrible, he’d never be able to stop all the bleeding in time. Oh God, should he even try?

Scents were washing over him, bringing images that he couldn’t block away. A man, reeking of angel dust and crazed with it, dragging Chloe into the alley. His hands at her throat, strangling her. Elaine, running after them, tackling the man bare-handed and breaking his grip on Chloe . . .

“She tried to stop him,” Chloe whispered from behind him. “He was hurting me, and she hit him, and then he – he pulled the knife -- ”

“Don’t let me die.” Elaine’s voice was even fainter than Chloe’s, but she stared straight at Mick.

“You’re doing fine,” Mick said, almost choking on the words. “We’ve just got to stop the bleeding – I’ll get you to a hospital -- ”

There were tears on Elaine’s face, and the hope he’d brought to her was fading from her eyes. She wouldn’t last another minute - Mick could feel her life slipping away. She shouldn’t be alive now. But this couldn’t happen, it couldn’t. He had to save her.

Mick tore off his jacket, pressed the fabric against the wounds in her chest with one hand, tried to stop the bleeding at her throat with the other. Blood welled between his fingers, and Elaine cried out. “Please! Please, Mick. Don’t let me die!”

Mick stared back at Elaine, hearing Chloe’s gulping sobs behind him, feeling the tears on his own face. “I won’t,” he whispered, and as her heartbeat began to fade he grabbed the knife from the pavement and slashed his left wrist. Blocking Chloe’s view with his body, he pressed his wrist to Elaine’s mouth, his blood mingling with hers on her face. She choked, swallowed, and stopped breathing. “You won’t die,” Mick said desperately, even as her heart stopped beating. “You won’t. Come on, Elaine. You can do this. Come on!” But it wasn’t working, it wasn’t going to work, he didn’t know what he was doing -- he’d sworn never to do this and he’d never learned how and fate wasn’t going to let it happen . . . .















“It’s not quite perfect,” Elaine said critically, and Mick surfaced from his memories with a start. He’d been thinking of her so intently, he hadn’t even noticed that she’d arrived beside him. She was standing now on the other side of the car, leaning over to inspect the paint job.

He managed a smile. “You don’t approve?”

“Well, I suppose it’ll do.” She walked on around the car, pretending to examine the repair work, but after a moment he realized that her casual pose was artificial. She was nervous, worried. Afraid. She was in at least as much turmoil as he was. Mick’s heart sank, but he tried not to show it. He was getting way too much practice at hiding his own reactions.

“It still drives like a dream,” he said. “You’d never know anything had happened.”

“That’s something, I guess. So did Kostan send you the bill?”

“Not yet.” Mick smiled. “But he said he would.”

A blur of movement, and Elaine was sitting in the car, her face deeply troubled. Mick got in beside her and said hesitantly, “You want to go for a drive?”

“No.” She sat very still, looking down at her hands. “Mick, I got an email today.”

Mick’s heart was suddenly pounding. “About what?”

“You, I think.” She glanced nervously up at him, then quickly away. “I have this friend, Thomas. We knew each other years ago. He moved to New York a while back.”

“What – what did he say?”

“He said he was sorry. That’s all. What do you think he meant by that?”

“Elaine -- ”

“I sent him an email a while back. I told him that Coraline was human now. He’d had an accident with his freshie, see, and turned her by mistake, and he’d been wishing she could be human again. So I thought it might give him hope, knowing about Coraline. But I didn’t think, did I? About what he might do.” She swallowed, and looked up at him, frightened. “Mick – what happened to you – was it my fault?”

His breath caught. “No. It wasn’t.”

“But it was Thomas. Wasn’t it.”

“He was – involved,” Mick said reluctantly. “But it wasn’t really that bad. They only wanted me because they thought I’d be a handle on Coraline.”

“It wasn’t that bad? Mick, when you showed up at my door, you were nearly dead.”

“Well yeah, but I did most of that to myself. Nobody was expecting me to get into a car crash.” He wasn’t about to mention the dangers of the drug that Asha had injected him with. “It was just silver, to immobilize me for a while. Pretty tame, by vampire standards.”

“Silver really hurts you now,” Elaine whispered.

“Yeah. But they didn’t know that.”

“Who was it, besides Thomas?” Elaine asked tonelessly. “It was that stupid little freshie of his, wasn’t it? Asha.”

Mick nodded. “And there was a Cleaner. Marguerite.”

“What did they plan to do? Hold you hostage until Coraline told them about the cure?”

“Pretty much.”

“Couldn’t they have just asked her?”

“Coraline would never have told them anything. You know that. And I think the Cleaner had some kind of history with her. Not a good one, either.”

Elaine shrugged off the mention of Marguerite. “I trusted Thomas,” she said. “I’ll kill him. I swear it.”

“Don’t.” Mick touched her hand gently. “I told you, it wasn’t really a big deal. Thomas was desperate. He wanted to give Asha her life back. I’d want the same thing, if I’d had an accident with a freshie.” It had almost happened, in fact, with Rebecca.

“But -- ”

“And you can help me figure some things out,” he said quickly. Could he catch her interest, change her mood? Either way, she really can help me. She knows these people. “What can you tell me about Thomas?”

“Thomas?” Elaine looked confused, which was all to the good.

“Yeah. Did I ever meet him? Would I have seen him with you?”

“No.” She looked embarrassed, now. “I didn’t want you to know about some of my friends, back then. The ones like me, who got turned when they were kids.”

“Huh.” Mick had been guessing that he’d met Thomas before, through Elaine, but now he didn’t know why the boy had seemed so familiar. “What about Marguerite? Did you know her?”

“No, I never met her. But I do know that she sired Thomas. I guess that’s why she got involved.”

Mick nodded; he’d thought as much. “Never heard of a Cleaner siring before,” he said thoughtfully, wishing he could ask Josef what he knew on the topic.

“Well, they aren’t supposed to, are they? Their only family is supposed to be other Cleaners. But, you know - things happen.”

“Yeah,” Mick said quietly. “They do. But why a kid?”

Elaine shrugged. “Same reason you turned me. He was dying. Some kind of illness, I can’t remember what. She gave him the choice, and he took it.”

“But how could he really understand what he was getting into, if he was that sick?”

“Oh, he knew from before. He’d lived with her for years, since he was little. She’d sort of adopted him. Rescued him from a couple of vamps on the street, and took him home.”

“A mortal kid, living with a vampire?” Mick was astonished. “And he knew what she was?”

“Of course he did. Come on, Mick, you’ve told me the facts enough times yourself. A vamp can’t actually live with someone without the secret getting out.”

There was animation in Elaine’s voice again – she obviously enjoyed being able to turn his argument back on him – but there was sadness as well, because it was a reminder of Kevin. Mick didn’t really want her thoughts to turn in that direction either. “Come on,” he said abruptly, reaching for the keys in the ignition. “Let’s go for a drive.”

“Where to?” Elaine said.

“I don’t know. Anywhere.” He started the car and pulled away from the dark beach, heading for the light-splashed freeway.

“Sounds good to me.” Elaine’s hair blew into her face, and she pushed it back. “Mick . . . are you serious about this? I mean, if this had happened to a friend of yours, you’d do something about it, right? But since it happened to you, you just don’t care?”

Mick couldn’t help smiling at her analysis. “I understand why they did it, that’s all. Asha was trying to keep her daughter – and to keep her daughter safe.”

“Well, she’ll never be able to have both. She might as well accept that.”

Mick hesitated, wondering if he should tell her the rest. I don’t want to remind her of Chloe. But what if Thomas tells her in an email, and she finds out when she’s all alone? I should have told her everything the first day.

“She can’t,” he said. “It’s too late.”

“What do you mean?”

“She lost control. Her little girl’s dead now.”

“Oh.” Elaine was suddenly very still.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Mick said gently. “It wasn’t anybody’s fault. It happened, that’s all. It just happened.”

Nobody’s fault. Like what happened to Chloe.















He’d knelt in that dark alley, his wrist pressed to Elaine’s face, his blood trickling out the side of her mouth and falling in a pool to the ground. He hadn't known what was wrong. It’s not working. Why isn’t it working?

“What’s happening?” Chloe asked. She was still behind him, and he hoped, desperately, that she couldn’t see what he was doing.

“Chloe, stay back. Please.”

“Is she dead? She saved me, she saved me; she can’t be dead.”

Mick couldn’t find his voice, couldn’t answer. How could he tell her that he’d failed, that her friend really was dead? He struggled to form the words that would break her heart. . . and then Elaine gasped, her eyes suddenly wide open, her heart beating again in a strange wild rhythm. It did work, Mick thought dazedly, looking down at her in disbelief. It worked! Elaine’s mouth clamped down on his wrist and she pulled at him frantically, downing his blood in great gulps. After a time he tried to draw away but she clung to him, not letting go, and he let her keep feeding. Slowly she began to heal, the terrible wounds in her throat and chest closing, but it didn’t seem right. Should she need so much blood? Should he stop her? Or would that kill her? Mick didn’t know; he remembered Josef speaking of a small amount of blood from the sire, but he didn’t think any fledgling of Josef’s had ever been mutilated like this. Elaine must need more, to heal from such terrible injuries. So Mick let her drink, and she healed, and she drained him until he was faint and dizzy. Finally she let go of his wrist, lowered her head to the pavement, and lay still.

“Please tell me,” Chloe said, from behind him. “She’s dead, isn’t she? Just tell me.”

Mick swallowed, and swung around to face Chloe. What in the world was he going to tell her? He was dazed, weak, and he couldn’t seem to think what to do. But it had worked. He’d saved Elaine, and that was what mattered. He’d have to take her away now, of course – oh, poor Chloe, I’ll still have to break her heart – but there was no help for it. He’d have to teach Elaine how to live as a vampire; he’d have to keep her away from humans until she was safe. “I’m sorry,” he said to Chloe. He’d have to tell her that Elaine was dead, and quickly take her away from here. “She was hurt too badly. I couldn’t do anything to help her.”

Chloe stared at him hopelessly, her face streaked with tears, and then, suddenly, she looked past him, and her eyes went wide with shock.

Mick spun around, and the knife in Elaine’s hand slammed past the hilt into his heart. He fell, and time seemed to stop as Elaine leaped past him and flung Chloe to the ground. Then he couldn’t see them - he could only hear Elaine’s growl and Chloe’s faint cry. Oh God, he couldn’t move. The blade was metal but the hilt was wood, and the knife had gone so deep that the wood was touching his heart. All he could see was the black sky between the buildings, but he could hear the struggle, and Chloe’s sudden silence. Elaine’s footsteps clattered away down the alley, and then everything was still. Mick struggled desperately to move. The wood couldn't have actually penetrated his heart – he was almost completely immobilized, but not quite. He could move his hand, an inch at a time, if he concentrated all his will on it. A minute passed as he fought, and finally he managed to touch the knife. The wooden hilt shifted at once, and he gasped and pulled the knife out of his chest in a rush of blood. He pressed his hand to the wound, agonized, and rolled over to look straight into Chloe’s dead eyes.

Mick crawled to her, reaching for her, knowing that she was already gone. She had been drained, her throat ripped out, and it was too late, now, for any intervention, even if he’d dared to try. He stared at her for long seconds, at her beautiful sweet face, and reached out to close her eyes. He was shaking. Elaine killed her. No. I killed her. He staggered to his feet and began to run.

He was well behind Elaine but the blood trail was strong: Elaine’s blood, Chloe’s, his own. There were drops on the pavement, some of them smeared by her footprints, and there were blood traces lingering in the air. He stumbled as he passed through a wash of memory – Elaine attacking in a frenzy, her eyes cold and white - and fell to his knees by a body. It was an old man, ragged and smelling of drink, his throat torn apart. What’s happening? They don’t go rogue this fast! I didn’t abandon her! Why is this happening? He got back to his feet and kept running, pausing only to grab a wooden chair from someone’s front porch and smash it against a wall, breaking it into shards. He kept the sharpest piece and ran on, faster than he’d thought possible, dreading every twist and turn in Elaine’s path. At any moment he was sure he’d see another body.

Suddenly he caught Elaine’s scent, not the blood trail but Elaine herself. He was close now. A girl screamed, a boy shouted, and Mick ran harder. Ahead of him he saw Elaine throw the boy down, but the boy was fighting, trying to get away, and the girl threw a bottle, smashing it into Elaine’s head. Elaine whirled to face the girl, snarling, and in that instant Mick flung himself at her, dragging her down with him and forcing her away from her victims. The boy struggled to his feet, one hand clutched to his bleeding shoulder.

“Run!” Mick shouted, as the boy stared. “Damn it, get out of here!” Elaine was strong, terrifyingly strong; she threw Mick onto his back and leaped on top of him. The boy ran at last, the girl at his side, and Mick suddenly found himself not protecting them but fighting for his own life. Elaine slammed his head into the pavement, sank her teeth into his throat. More of his blood gone; he almost blacked out but managed somehow to shove her face away. With the last of his strength he brought the shard of wood up and thrust it into her chest. It struck her heart and she froze, her body falling paralyzed across his. Mick, shaking, shoved the wood in deeper, and rolled out from under her. He put his hand to his throat to touch the torn flesh there. It hadn’t even begun to heal. The wound in his chest hadn’t healed either. But if he’d been human he’d have been dead twice over. Twice over. Elaine had killed two people in a matter of minutes, and might never have stopped killing if he hadn’t caught up with her. What if she’d killed him, what if there’d been no one at all to stop her? What have I done?

Mick bent over Elaine, looking down at her pale face, and gently touched her shoulder. “Elaine? You can hear me, I know you can.”

She stared at the sky, fury in her eyes.

“Elaine, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I had to stop you. It was the only way to stop you. It isn’t your fault but you can’t – you can’t -- ”

Mick couldn’t go on. She could hear him, he was sure of it - but she wasn’t listening. Beneath the stake, her body and mind both were taut with rage.

Taking exquisite care not to jar loose the stake, Mick lifted Elaine in his arms and set out for Half Moon House.















His memory faded after that, leaving only flashes and fragments that haunted him. Carrying Elaine through the front door of the house, hearing Tyler say, shocked, Mick, she’s seventeen! Why? Tyler making frantic calls to the Cleaners and to Josef; Elaine lying on the kitchen table with the stake still in her heart. The wounds in Mick’s throat and chest bleeding sluggishly, not healing; Tyler again, Hell, Mick, you’re still bleeding. Wait here. Desperate thirst . . . Rebecca beside him, her nervous voice saying, You won’t get carried away on me, will you, Mick? You’ll be careful? Ash-blond hair and smooth skin and the faint taste of drugs in her warm sweet blood. A sudden violent interruption: Tyler furiously shouting at him, then striking him, fighting him, dragging him bodily away from her . . . .
















Mick surfaced from the memory and glanced at Elaine, who was sitting curled in the passenger seat, her face blank and unreadable. He remembered how she’d looked back then, lying on the floor of the hired van on the way down to L.A., paralyzed by the stake but utterly full of fury. She hadn’t really gone rogue . . . not technically, anyway, though the result was nearly the same. Tyler had explained it as he drove. Josef said that when someone has a really violent death, and you turn them, it can happen this way. The new vamp goes crazy right away. And if you feed them a lot of blood . . . which you did, right? . . . they’ll be terribly strong at first. Mick had found out, later, just how dangerous his actions had been. However he felt about Chloe, it was actually astonishing that only two people had died that night.

Rebecca almost died, too. Mick had never realized that he’d gone too far, and hadn’t even noticed when she’d tried to fight him off. When he’d come to himself, he’d found Rebecca unconscious on the couch under a pile of blankets, deathly pale, being transfused with blood by one of the local vamps. They hadn’t let him come near her again. Mick and Tyler had been on the road within the hour, Elaine with them, headed for L.A., where Josef had a setup that could keep Elaine secure. She has to be kept in silver, until she’s better, Tyler had said. Except . . . Josef said . . . they usually don’t get better.

Elaine glanced at him, expression slowly returning to her face. “God, but it’s awful being a new turn,” she said quietly.

“Yeah.” Mick pulled off the freeway and came to a stop at a light, watching the cross traffic pass by.

Elaine shook herself, as if letting it all go, and Mick was relieved. Apparently she wasn’t going to dwell on Chloe, at least not any more than usual. “What time is it?” she asked.

“About 2 am,” he said, glancing at his watch. “You want me to take you home?”

“No. But you could take me to Logan’s.”

Mick raised an eyebrow, surprised. Elaine and Logan were good friends, but they usually seemed to communicate only by internet. “You’ve got plans?” he asked, curious.

“There’s this new game he bought. We’re gonna try it tonight.”

“Good. Sounds fun.” Mick was glad that she wasn’t going to be alone tonight. Logan may drive me crazy, but he’s certainly good for her.

“So, you haven’t told me. How are things with Beth?”

“Not so good.” Of course she didn’t know. She didn’t even know Josh’s last name, and anyway, she never kept up with the news. “Her boyfriend, Josh -- he died today. Killed by a gang he was trying to prosecute.”

“Oh, no. Poor Beth. She must feel so guilty.”

“Guilty? Why do you say that?” Josef had said much the same thing, Mick remembered.

“Because she wasn’t in love with him any more, and I’ll bet she never told him that. And now, she never can.”

“I don’t know, Elaine. I think she did still love him.”

“Well, I’m sure she cared about him. But she’s been in love with you for a long time now.”

I don’t want you near me right now, okay? I can’t stand it. He flinched, remembering Beth’s words, and said, “I – I think that’s changed.”

“Because of what happened to Josh? She’s bound to strike out at you, Mick. But that’s because of the guilt.”

Even if that’s true, I don’t think that’s the only reason why. But Mick wasn’t ever going to tell Elaine what Beth had asked him to do.

“It just keeps getting harder, doesn’t it?” Elaine said. “But you’ve got to keep yourself in her life.”

“I’m going to try,” Mick said. He glanced sideways at Elaine and said, “You know, it wasn’t that long ago that you were telling me that a relationship with Beth would never work.”

“I know. But I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“I met Beth,” she said simply, and Mick wondered, suddenly, if everything she’d told him might be true.














After he’d dropped Elaine off at Logan’s, he pulled out his phone to check for messages. It was ridiculous to think that there might be anything from Beth – what did he expect, a message saying please come back, I understand everything? – but he couldn’t stop himself from looking. There was only one message, from the Cleaners, and it was short and grim. Containment may not be possible in this situation. Be prepared to take other measures. “Other measures” meant, of course, a disappearance, a new name, and a new city. I won’t do that, no matter what. I won’t leave Beth behind. Anyway, Cleaners were always pessimistic about these things, weren’t they? There might be a few questions, but he could handle that. Still . . . Carl and that other cop saw the way Bustos reacted to me; they heard him call me a devil. What happens if someone from the bar starts talking about devils, too? He simply hadn’t cared, at the time, what anyone saw, but now it could come back to haunt him.

But I did it for Beth, so I still don’t care. He put his phone away, started the car, and found himself driving back to Beth’s place. She didn’t want him there, so he wouldn’t linger. But he had to reassure himself, one more time, that she was safe. He couldn’t stop thinking of how the bullets had torn through Josh’s body, of how terribly close Beth had been standing. And that bullet in the Bionalysis parking lot . . . if he hadn’t been at her side, if he’d been even a fraction of a second slower to react, she would certainly have died.

As before, he parked several blocks away. There was still a police cruiser stationed in front of her building, and guards posted at the doors. It would have been hard for a human to get past them, but Mick slipped silently up the side of the building to her balcony, following the same path he’d taken before. Her bedroom was dark now, the lamp turned out and the candles guttering low, and she was asleep, fully dressed, on top of her bedcovers. The balcony door was still open, the curtains shifting in the night breeze, and it was cold.

He stood listening to her heartbeat and breathing, to the sounds that proved she was alive. He shouldn’t go in . . . but the candles were still flickering, the flames caught by every breeze. He slipped inside through the curtains, quickly blew out the candles, and turned to go. At that moment she moaned, her body twisting on the bed, and her heartbeat suddenly doubled in speed. She gasped and cried out, threw her head to the side, and screamed. Mick stood paralyzed, desperate to go to her, to wake her from this nightmare. But she’d said I don’t want you near me, and he shouldn’t even be in her room.

“Mick,” she cried out. “Mick! Mick!” She was screaming again, caught up in utter terror, and Mick couldn’t possibly leave now, whatever happened. He sat on the bed and gently took her by the shoulders, steadying her, holding her. Her eyes were still closed, she wasn’t awake, but somehow she seemed to be aware of him. Her hands moved to clutch desperately at his shirt, and she held on to him as if he were a lifeline, as if she would die if she lost her hold. Her heart was racing, and she was shaking with fear, trying to pull him closer.

“I’m here, Beth,” he whispered. Cautiously he lay down beside her, drawing her into his arms. “You’re safe. You’re with me.” He held on to her helplessly, not knowing what to do. When she woke and found him here, she’d never forgive him, but how could he abandon her to this terror? He took a breath, trying to steady himself, and a vision caught and held him. He saw only pieces of it, but each image flared into his mind. Beth as an adult, as a child, as an adult again, blood drenching her face and hands, Josh’s body lying at her feet. Coraline ghostly in white, fire billowing around her, cold hands reaching out to grasp Beth’s throat. Faceless men with guns; the sound of bullets striking flesh. Beth running in terror, screaming for Mick, searching for him . . . falling at last into his arms. All the nightmare images vanishing in that moment, with his touch.

Mick gasped, pulling himself out of the dream. Out of her dream? It wasn’t a real memory; it hadn’t happened. How could he have seen it? Had he only imagined it?

Beth’s heart rate slowed, her blood pressure dropped, her trembling sobs grew quieter. She shifted, slipping her arms around Mick’s neck, pressing her face against his shoulder. She clutched him tightly, just as she had in the dream. And it had been her dream; he was sure of it, even though that ought to be impossible. There were still traces of silver, and of the drug, in his blood . . . had that somehow opened her dreams to him? Or is our connection getting stronger, even now?

“It’s okay,” Mick whispered to her, over and over, feeling her relax in his arms. He held her gently, carefully, trying to soothe her into peaceful dreams. She murmured his name one more time, sighed, and fell into a deeper stage of sleep, her arms going limp at his neck. Carefully Mick eased himself away from her, took her hands in his, and then let them go. She was shivering, and he caught the edge of the quilt and pulled it over her. Maybe she’d think she’d done it herself, in her sleep, and he couldn’t bear to leave her in the cold. After a moment the shivering stopped, and he knew he had to leave. But he hesitated for one more moment, leaning over to lightly kiss her forehead.

She still trusted him, deep down. And they were still connected, in a way that couldn’t be broken. Elaine was right. There really was still hope for them.

I did everything I could, Beth. Everything. If only you can understand that, one day.














As he walked away, Mick looked back at her darkened window. Hatred of the vampire suddenly flared through him, this thing that kept him eternally apart from Beth. There is a cure, he told himself, watching the window. There is a cure. Coraline knows what it is. I just have to find her. Somehow. She’d gone to ground, but she never could stay put for long. She would emerge somewhere, sometime, and all he had to do was find out where.

Mick reached his car, got in, and headed for home. He’d check the most likely places first, and try to track down her old friends. He could also visit Saint John’s, and have a look at the footage from their security cameras. Maybe there’d be something there, some clue as to how Coraline had left the hospital, some idea of where she’d gone. If there was anything at all, he would find it.

No matter how close Beth and I have ever been, no matter how we’ve been connected, there’s always been this eternal wall between us. She, a mortal, and me, a vampire. But if I were to find the cure . . . if I were human again . . . maybe things would be different.

He imagined coming to Beth, one day, in the full light of the sun, as mortal as she was, growing older every day. Offering her something real. A future. A family.

He was dreaming, of course. But sometimes, sometimes, it was the good dreams that came true.














_

[redwinter101]

I am so utterly enthralled by this story, Shadow. It's a delicate, touching masterpiece, every chapter taking us deeper into the story, exploring the past while moving forward to a future that still, amazingly, feels so uncertain, even though we all know the ultimate conclusion.

Mick relationship with Elaine is both compelling and tragic - I ache for them both, even more so now we know the circumstances of her turning. I knew it was something violent and tragic - but what you've shown us here is the extent to which it was a tragedy for both of them. And one which changed them both in more than just the physical sense. It breaks my heart, it really does - having that kind of power, yet being so helpless in the face of random circumstance - it's no wonder Mick is so filled with fear.

I loved Elaine's realisation that she was the cause of Mick's injuries - and her assessment that he would never let it lie if someone else had been the victim of such an attack. It's such a poignant moment - there is someone in Mick's world who really, truly understands him. The lingering fear that Mick might lose her is terrifying - for Mick, and for anyone reading this beautiful story.

Red

[wpgrace]

Ohhhh myyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy ggggggggggggoooooddddddddddddd!!!

Poor Elaine! Poor Mick!
What an unholy nightmare for them both!
What an amazing job you have done creating this nightmare!

Two of the nicest people... their natural sympathies for one another already showing just a bit, although they barely knew one another, and then this tragedy happens and they are now connected forever, thru the horror of her turning but also, still, by the utter decency of their natures. And it is a relationship that will forever bring them both pleasure and pain. Love and guilt. Sadness and comfort. Duty, as well. Duty to one another.

Wow. Complicated and beautiful and sad, their connection. I seriously cannot imagine that the writers of the show would EVER have come up with a more gorgeously complex backstory for Mick, for that question that Beth hasn't asked him yet, "Have you ever turned anybody?"

And while I have been DYING to know how Elaine's turning happened, looking forward to when you revealed it to us, it is indeed so horrific that it actually makes me want to push it away! You've already shown us what happens next, once they get her to Josef's... so the big reveal here had just that much more impact. Amazing storytelling... just amazing.

I must also mention the wonderful MickJosef at the beginning of this chapter. Loved that. A brief moment of lightness, of calm within the storm, that I enjoyed very much. And then another such moment or two, with Elaine in the car... commenting of all things on the imperfection of the paint job ... and her intent to go play games with Logan. Just perfect rhythm as we then go back to Beth's, for more intensity, but finally, for some relief for Mick too. I feel very full and very satisfied by the end of this chapter.

[redwinter101]

(To make sure this absolute GEM doesn't get lost.)

Red

[toria1521]

I don't think I could manage a more complete or compelling critique than either of your last 2 commenters. I'll just say that I'm so glad that you are on this board still working on this incredible story. You are truly blessed with talent.



toria

[Shadow]

I am so utterly enthralled by this story, Shadow. It's a delicate, touching masterpiece, every chapter taking us deeper into the story, exploring the past while moving forward to a future that still, amazingly, feels so uncertain, even though we all know the ultimate conclusion.

Wow, Red, that's some comment. These are getting harder and harder to do as the story progresses, but I think your words will keep me going for quite a while! I'm so pleased that the future in the story still looks uncertain, too - just the way it did at this moment in the series.

there is someone in Mick's world who really, truly understands him.

For all the uneasiness in their relationship, I think she really does. And Elaine sees the things that he's blind to, and doesn't hesitate to point them out.


Thank you for the amazing comment! And many thanks for putting this chapter in the updates, too. I forgot about that for a day or so, and it was so nice, when I remembered to do it, to find it already there.

[Shadow]

Wow. Complicated and beautiful and sad, their connection. I seriously cannot imagine that the writers of the show would EVER have come up with a more gorgeously complex backstory for Mick, for that question that Beth hasn't asked him yet, "Have you ever turned anybody?"

Thank you, Grace!! Oddly, the first thing I thought when I saw the look on Mick's face, when Beth asked that question, was that whatever had happened must have been really complex. ( I do wonder what the writers had in mind . . . or if they really even had any plans at that point. )

I must also mention the wonderful MickJosef at the beginning of this chapter. Loved that. A brief moment of lightness, of calm within the storm, that I enjoyed very much. And then another such moment or two, with Elaine in the car... commenting of all things on the imperfection of the paint job.

I had been worrying that this chapter was going to be too unrelentingly dark . . . so that is just great to hear! I'm glad that could balance things out a bit.

Two of the nicest people... their natural sympathies for one another already showing just a bit, although they barely knew one another, and then this tragedy happens and they are now connected forever, thru the horror of her turning but also, still, by the utter decency of their natures.

Just love the way you put that. That's a wonderful point .....

[Shadow]

I don't think I could manage a more complete or compelling critique than either of your last 2 commenters. I'll just say that I'm so glad that you are on this board still working on this incredible story. You are truly blessed with talent.



toria

Toria, that's so lovely, thanks so much!

And I'm really glad that you found the story over here. You'll be able to find all the upcoming chapters here too, as they get finished..

[Shadow]

(To make sure this absolute GEM doesn't get lost.)

Red

[Cleo28]

Shadow, I can only repeat myself. I love your fanfic. And it fits so well in between the episodes. I have to reread this chapter. It is so awesome!

[allegrita]

Shadow, I don't have time to give this gorgeous and desperately sad chapter the time it deserves... just want you to know that I've read it and once again, I'm blown away by the power of your storytelling. I'll be back.

[jen]

Shadow

That was fabulous!

This gave us a look at the terrible darkness possible when someone is turned. Poor Elaine! Poor Chloe, who thought she was the lucky one, the survivor, only to meet death in another form.

Another rich exposition of events between the episodes. and they are getting even richer!

Thank you

Jenna

[francis]

This was a truly heartwrenching chapter, first Beth's grief spelled out again, then the story of Elaine's turning and what Mick did to make him think he's a monster, and the guilt he's bearing. I love how you tie this in with the danger of being busted if the Cleaners can't contain his indescretion, and how Elaine gives him some hope back that things might work out. And then he thinks about the chance of getting the cure, and it ties in right with the next episode. Wonderful!!!

[Shadow]

Shadow, I can only repeat myself. I love your fanfic. And it fits so well in between the episodes. I have to reread this chapter. It is so awesome!

Thank you for rereading, Cleo ... And it is so great that you came by here to leave a comment too!

[Shadow]

Shadow, I don't have time to give this gorgeous and desperately sad chapter the time it deserves... just want you to know that I've read it and once again, I'm blown away by the power of your storytelling. I'll be back.

Thank you, Alle! That's an awesome comment already ... and I'll definitely be looking forward to when you come back by!