Four Brothers
Aug. 7th, 2009 08:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veiledndarknessTitle: Strays 4/?
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Bobby/Jack
Rating: R
Summary: What’s it all worth when you’re alone?
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made and no harm intended.
Notes: AU, the brothers were not raised together by Evelyn.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
X
Jack sat on the windowsill ledge of his bedroom, his legs drawn up to his chest. He rested his head to the glass windowpanes and watched the snow fall outside. He sighed quietly, his breath fogging the pane closest to him. The snow outside was piling up fast. Jack closed his eyes and sent quick thanks for the fact that this was one night he wouldn't be spending outside or crammed onto a metal cot that he was several inches too long for.
The heat in the house was constant, a steady warmth that filled every room. Jack smiled faintly, watching the flakes drift outside until the slam of a door somewhere startled him. He lifted his head, eyes wide and alert. For a long moment, Jack held his breath, waiting to see if anything was to follow.
When only silence remained, Jack crept off the ledge. He padded over to the door and opened it an inch or so, listening hard. The stillness in the air was unnerving to say the least. He frowned and opened the door further, walking down the carpeted hallway.
He passed door after door, the only sounds coming from the heating vents. Jack trailed his fingers along the wall, wandering here and there. He paused, hearing a muffled shout from the end of one hallway. Jack tilted his head. The room, the one at the far end...
He made his way to the room and stopped in front of the door. Another sound echoed, a sigh, a miserable sigh that trailed off. Jack touched his hand to the doorknob, his heart beating faster. This was Bobby's room, he was sure of it. He swallowed. Would Bobby even want Jack around this late at night?
Jack straightened his back and went for it, turning the doorknob slowly. He opened the heavy door a bit and looked inside the dark room. Bobby sat on the edge of a large bed, still dressed in his shirt and suit pants, his head clasped in his hands, his elbows pressed to his knees. His shoulders shook, his whole body shaking and trembling.
'This is such a bad fucking idea,' Jack thought absently.
Bobby lifted his head fast, glaring at him over his shoulder. His glare faded a little when he saw Jack in the doorway. "Hey," he whispered. "You ok?"
Jack nodded and closed the door behind him. "I'm fine, but you don't look ok."
Bobby waved one hand and looked down at the carpet. "Nothin' to worry about," he mumbled.
"Em told me you get migraines," Jack wandered closer to the bed, his heart thudding painfully against his rib cage. If Bobby freaked out...Jack bit his lip. It was like approaching a wounded animal, one that could lash out at any second.
"Did she?" Bobby asked through clenched teeth.
Jack nodded. He stood in front of Bobby and knelt down slowly, lowering himself to his knees. He could see the tension, the way Bobby's eyes were nearly shut and watering from the pressure in his head. "Mhm," he whispered. "Do you need anythin', a pill or somethin'?"
"Took some already."
Jack looked to the bedside table and sucked in a breath. Amidst the bottles of liquor that littered the top, several pill bottles were mixed in. Sleeping pills, migraine ones, Jack glanced back at Bobby, nervous as all hell. "Um, yeah, yeah I see that."
"Go back to bed, Jack," Bobby said, his voice an uneven rasp. "I'll be just fine once they kick in."
Jack reached up, resting his hands on Bobby's wrists. Bobby let out a startled breath. "What...what're you doin'?"
"Lie down," Jack nudged him, pushing a little. "You're puttin' too much pressure on your head like this."
"Go back to bed," Bobby said again, his arms shaking harder. "Fuckin' go."
Jack pushed again, ignoring the increasingly panicky voice in his head. "Lie down first."
Bobby glared at him. "Look kid, I appreciate the advice but I don't need it, ok? I got my pills, I'm gonna be ok. Now get the fuck out!"
Jack narrowed his eyes at him. "No," he snapped, "Stop bein' so goddamn stubborn. You like sufferin' through this, huh? Lie down before you pass out."
"Jesus," Bobby leaned back and swung his legs up onto the bed, the red flush to his skin fading a little as his head rested back on the pillows. "Are you always this annoying?"
Jack stood up and tried not to smirk, "Only when I know better." He sat on the edge of the bed beside him. "Relax ok? I ain't gonna hurt you." He reached fast, clasping Bobby's head in his hands. Despite his bravado, Jack was terribly unnerved.
Bobby stared up at him warily. "What're....what're you doin'?"
"A little trick, it helps with migraines," Jack murmured. "Breathe, ok? I'm not about to hurt the guy that's keepin' my ass off the cold ground." He rubbed his thumbs in slow circles along Bobby's temples, his fingers sliding through the surprisingly soft hair and down behind his ears, rubbing gently as well.
Bobby tensed for a moment before letting out a muted sigh. "Don't..."
"Shh," Jack rubbed slow, steady circles with his fingers and thumbs. "One of my foster moms had migraines and she used to do this to make 'em stop hurtin' so much. Eases the pressure, y' know?"
Bobby relaxed under the firm but gentle massaging, the horrid pain fading away gradually. "You got yourself some magic fingers, Jackie," he whispered, a light smile crossing his lips.
Jack grinned. He kinda liked hearing his name like that from Bobby. "S'why I'm so good on the guitar. Strong fingers, it's a necessity. "
Bobby closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Jack kept the motions up for a few more minutes before he noticed that Bobby had fallen asleep. He chuckled softly and sat back, watching him. "Poor guy...."
He looked to the various bottles and shook his head. He closed each one, tightening the caps on them. Jack grabbed one of the tumblers beside the bottle of whiskey and carried it to bathroom door on the far right side.
He rinsed the glass out thoroughly and filled it with cool water. He set the glass on the bedside table and nodded; satisfied that Bobby would have something better to drink, should he wake up any time soon. He draped the blankets over Bobby, tucking him in.
Jack paused by the door and looked back at the bed. Bobby shifted onto his side, holding the pillow in his sleep. Jack smiled. When Bobby slept, he looked ten years younger.
x
"You gotta be stirrin' the batter like this," Em moved the wooden spoon in wide stirs, molding and manipulating the batter in the large bowl before her. "Y' seein' how?"
"Honest, Em, I know how to cook," Jack said patiently. He stood next to her in the kitchen, listening to her instructions on breakfast.
Em snorted and waved one hand, bits of flour coating her fingers. "Yeah, an' I know how to fly every now an' again. You don't know how to cook my way, so you see, boy, you learn Em's way an' Em's way is the only way."
"Yes ma'am," Jack saluted her and leaned back against the counter. "Bossy lady runs the kitchen, I hear."
"You hear right," Em offered the spoon to him. "Stir, boy."
Jack took the offered spoon and grasped the bowl, stirring the batter just so. "My name's Jack, not boy."
"It don't matter who you are," Angel said as he walked into the kitchen. "Em calls evry'one boy an' girl, ain't that right, Em?" he flashed a bright grin at her.
"You smooth, boy, but no charmin's gonna get you food any faster," Em said, her face stern but for the tell tale smile curving her lips. "Go get your boss man an' see to it that he's up an' moving, boy."
Angel snagged a piece of cut up strawberry and popped it in his mouth. "Oh yes'm, I will," he grinned and brushed past her, "Anything' for you."
"That boy," Em shook her head, amused. "Here," she grabbed a bottle of cinnamon and sprinkled some into the bowl. "See here, this much an' only this much."
Jack nodded and stirred the pancake batter, mixing the cinnamon in. "How often does Bobby get those migraines?" he asked a moment later.
"Too often," Em clucked her tongue. "He gets him pains too often. No sleepin' an' too much of the strong stuff. He never take days off an' you see his eyes when he gets them pains, ain't nothin' to cure all that."
"Why though? Everyone needs downtime, right? Even guys like...well guys like him."
Em let out a quick laugh and patted Jack on the shoulder. "You wanna be the next to tell Mr. Boss Man that he needs him downtime? You go ahead, boy, see what he say."
"I will," Jack set the stirring spoon aside. Something inside, he knew then not to mention how he'd helped Bobby that night, helped him to relax enough to fall asleep. He had a feeling that Bobby wouldn't like that being spoken of.
He caught a glimpse of movement near the door. Lucy stood in the doorway, biting her lip. She darted a gaze at Jack before looking away and moving fast to Em's other side. She hung back by the fridge, whispering to Em.
"No, he's here now, you gonna have to see that, Lucy girl," Em pointed to Jack. "That boy won't hurt ya, he won't dare, ain't that right?"
Jack shook his head. "I swear, I don't hit girls, honest. An'...an' even most guys neither. Not unless they hit me first."
Lucy fidgeted with her hands, looking between Em and Jack. "No hit..." she echoed slowly, sounding the words out.
"Never."
Em rested one wide hand on Lucy's shoulder. "See, Lucy girl? He's a good boy, I can see, an' you trust Em, yeah?"
"Si...y-yes," Lucy whispered.
"Then you don't need to scurry from him. He's here like you, like us," she rubbed Lucy's shoulder gently.
Lucy flicked a glance at Jack, a hint of curiosity in her eyes at that. "Hurt...like u-us?" she asked.
Jack swallowed over the lump in his throat. He knew that look of fear, of pain and hurt. "Yeah," he managed to say without his voice breaking. "Yeah, hurt like you."
She bit her lip harder. "Hurt...We no hurt anymore," she said carefully, looking to Em for reassurance, "No here."
Em smiled proudly. "That's my Lucy girl. Not here, ain't nobody gonna be hurt anymore in this house."
Jack grabbed the spoon and turned away, his chest tight and his eyes burning. He'd heard that line many times before. "I think these are good to go, Em," he said, keeping his words light.
She leaned over, examining the bowl, "Yeah, they good to go. You warm the pan, boy," she said, nodding once to him, her eyes dark and gleaming with understanding.
Jack nodded silently. Yeah, he knew what she meant. He set the pan on the stove and turned the burner on, listening for the footsteps overhead.
x
Angel pushed the curtains back from the windows, whistling under his breath as he did so. "Damn, nearly a foot since last night."
"I figured," Bobby muttered from the bed. He sat up with slow, stiff movements. "Gonna end up snowed in sooner or later."
"I'm surprised you're up an' breathin'," Angel let the curtain fall somewhat back into place, a small beam of light pushing into the dark room. "Not even nine yet."
Bobby ran a hand over his sleep rumpled hair and winced, licking his dry lips. He reached out, searching for his glass of whiskey. He tugged the glass over and gulped it down, sputtering when he swallowed. "The fuck? Water?" He stared at the glass, bleary eyed, "Where the....what the fuck?"
"The look on your face, man,” Angel snickered.
"That ain't funny," Bobby slammed the glass down hard on the table. "Don't fuckin' switch my drinks on me."
"What?" Angel's chuckles faded away, "The hell you on, Bobby? I didn't take your whiskey, I sure as fuck didn't tuck you in or give you water."
Bobby blinked a few times and then groaned, falling back against the pillows. "Jesus..."
"I don't think he does that shit backwards," Angel drawled. "I mean, yeah water into wine, but whiskey into water? No point to that."
"Shut up," Bobby growled. He covered his face with both hands, sighing. "That goddamn kid..."
Angel opened the curtains on each window, one by one, "Ahh, yeah, your little playboy in the kitchen, uh huh," he grinned, "You shoulda seen him waitin' at the gate. Poor kid look half froze to death. I let him on account of not wantin' to explain the frozen white boy to you."
"Before you ask, yes, I gave him the card, and no, I don't need any lectures."
"Well I know that," Angel cracked the window open and shivered at the cold gust of wind. "I saw the card. You think I'm gonna let jus' anyone waltz in here? Not likely. And hey, what you fuck an' who you fuck ain't my concern."
Bobby pushed the blankets back with a muffled curse. "I'm not fucking him!" he snapped, "You an' Jerry...I swear..."
"Why not? Why else would you get him to...ohhhh," Angel pressed his lips together. Laughing when Bobby was so annoyed, never high on the good idea list.
"It doesn't matter," Bobby finally said gruffly. "He's homeless, needs a place to stay an' you know as well as I do what those damned shelters are like. End of story."
Angel nodded and crossed his arms over his chest while Bobby stripped his wrinkled shirt off. "Em sent me for ya," he said. "She's got your boy makin' pancakes. He's skinny, so ya know Em's on a mission to fatten him up."
"I'm sure that'll be a torture Jack will endure with one of his fuckin' teasin' smiles," Bobby muttered. He stalked towards the bathroom and spun the taps for the shower. He stripped off and stood under the hot spray of water, eyes closed, thinking of how much better his head felt right then.
X
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Bobby/Jack
Rating: R
Summary: What’s it all worth when you’re alone?
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made and no harm intended.
Notes: AU, the brothers were not raised together by Evelyn.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
X
Jack sat on the windowsill ledge of his bedroom, his legs drawn up to his chest. He rested his head to the glass windowpanes and watched the snow fall outside. He sighed quietly, his breath fogging the pane closest to him. The snow outside was piling up fast. Jack closed his eyes and sent quick thanks for the fact that this was one night he wouldn't be spending outside or crammed onto a metal cot that he was several inches too long for.
The heat in the house was constant, a steady warmth that filled every room. Jack smiled faintly, watching the flakes drift outside until the slam of a door somewhere startled him. He lifted his head, eyes wide and alert. For a long moment, Jack held his breath, waiting to see if anything was to follow.
When only silence remained, Jack crept off the ledge. He padded over to the door and opened it an inch or so, listening hard. The stillness in the air was unnerving to say the least. He frowned and opened the door further, walking down the carpeted hallway.
He passed door after door, the only sounds coming from the heating vents. Jack trailed his fingers along the wall, wandering here and there. He paused, hearing a muffled shout from the end of one hallway. Jack tilted his head. The room, the one at the far end...
He made his way to the room and stopped in front of the door. Another sound echoed, a sigh, a miserable sigh that trailed off. Jack touched his hand to the doorknob, his heart beating faster. This was Bobby's room, he was sure of it. He swallowed. Would Bobby even want Jack around this late at night?
Jack straightened his back and went for it, turning the doorknob slowly. He opened the heavy door a bit and looked inside the dark room. Bobby sat on the edge of a large bed, still dressed in his shirt and suit pants, his head clasped in his hands, his elbows pressed to his knees. His shoulders shook, his whole body shaking and trembling.
'This is such a bad fucking idea,' Jack thought absently.
Bobby lifted his head fast, glaring at him over his shoulder. His glare faded a little when he saw Jack in the doorway. "Hey," he whispered. "You ok?"
Jack nodded and closed the door behind him. "I'm fine, but you don't look ok."
Bobby waved one hand and looked down at the carpet. "Nothin' to worry about," he mumbled.
"Em told me you get migraines," Jack wandered closer to the bed, his heart thudding painfully against his rib cage. If Bobby freaked out...Jack bit his lip. It was like approaching a wounded animal, one that could lash out at any second.
"Did she?" Bobby asked through clenched teeth.
Jack nodded. He stood in front of Bobby and knelt down slowly, lowering himself to his knees. He could see the tension, the way Bobby's eyes were nearly shut and watering from the pressure in his head. "Mhm," he whispered. "Do you need anythin', a pill or somethin'?"
"Took some already."
Jack looked to the bedside table and sucked in a breath. Amidst the bottles of liquor that littered the top, several pill bottles were mixed in. Sleeping pills, migraine ones, Jack glanced back at Bobby, nervous as all hell. "Um, yeah, yeah I see that."
"Go back to bed, Jack," Bobby said, his voice an uneven rasp. "I'll be just fine once they kick in."
Jack reached up, resting his hands on Bobby's wrists. Bobby let out a startled breath. "What...what're you doin'?"
"Lie down," Jack nudged him, pushing a little. "You're puttin' too much pressure on your head like this."
"Go back to bed," Bobby said again, his arms shaking harder. "Fuckin' go."
Jack pushed again, ignoring the increasingly panicky voice in his head. "Lie down first."
Bobby glared at him. "Look kid, I appreciate the advice but I don't need it, ok? I got my pills, I'm gonna be ok. Now get the fuck out!"
Jack narrowed his eyes at him. "No," he snapped, "Stop bein' so goddamn stubborn. You like sufferin' through this, huh? Lie down before you pass out."
"Jesus," Bobby leaned back and swung his legs up onto the bed, the red flush to his skin fading a little as his head rested back on the pillows. "Are you always this annoying?"
Jack stood up and tried not to smirk, "Only when I know better." He sat on the edge of the bed beside him. "Relax ok? I ain't gonna hurt you." He reached fast, clasping Bobby's head in his hands. Despite his bravado, Jack was terribly unnerved.
Bobby stared up at him warily. "What're....what're you doin'?"
"A little trick, it helps with migraines," Jack murmured. "Breathe, ok? I'm not about to hurt the guy that's keepin' my ass off the cold ground." He rubbed his thumbs in slow circles along Bobby's temples, his fingers sliding through the surprisingly soft hair and down behind his ears, rubbing gently as well.
Bobby tensed for a moment before letting out a muted sigh. "Don't..."
"Shh," Jack rubbed slow, steady circles with his fingers and thumbs. "One of my foster moms had migraines and she used to do this to make 'em stop hurtin' so much. Eases the pressure, y' know?"
Bobby relaxed under the firm but gentle massaging, the horrid pain fading away gradually. "You got yourself some magic fingers, Jackie," he whispered, a light smile crossing his lips.
Jack grinned. He kinda liked hearing his name like that from Bobby. "S'why I'm so good on the guitar. Strong fingers, it's a necessity. "
Bobby closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Jack kept the motions up for a few more minutes before he noticed that Bobby had fallen asleep. He chuckled softly and sat back, watching him. "Poor guy...."
He looked to the various bottles and shook his head. He closed each one, tightening the caps on them. Jack grabbed one of the tumblers beside the bottle of whiskey and carried it to bathroom door on the far right side.
He rinsed the glass out thoroughly and filled it with cool water. He set the glass on the bedside table and nodded; satisfied that Bobby would have something better to drink, should he wake up any time soon. He draped the blankets over Bobby, tucking him in.
Jack paused by the door and looked back at the bed. Bobby shifted onto his side, holding the pillow in his sleep. Jack smiled. When Bobby slept, he looked ten years younger.
x
"You gotta be stirrin' the batter like this," Em moved the wooden spoon in wide stirs, molding and manipulating the batter in the large bowl before her. "Y' seein' how?"
"Honest, Em, I know how to cook," Jack said patiently. He stood next to her in the kitchen, listening to her instructions on breakfast.
Em snorted and waved one hand, bits of flour coating her fingers. "Yeah, an' I know how to fly every now an' again. You don't know how to cook my way, so you see, boy, you learn Em's way an' Em's way is the only way."
"Yes ma'am," Jack saluted her and leaned back against the counter. "Bossy lady runs the kitchen, I hear."
"You hear right," Em offered the spoon to him. "Stir, boy."
Jack took the offered spoon and grasped the bowl, stirring the batter just so. "My name's Jack, not boy."
"It don't matter who you are," Angel said as he walked into the kitchen. "Em calls evry'one boy an' girl, ain't that right, Em?" he flashed a bright grin at her.
"You smooth, boy, but no charmin's gonna get you food any faster," Em said, her face stern but for the tell tale smile curving her lips. "Go get your boss man an' see to it that he's up an' moving, boy."
Angel snagged a piece of cut up strawberry and popped it in his mouth. "Oh yes'm, I will," he grinned and brushed past her, "Anything' for you."
"That boy," Em shook her head, amused. "Here," she grabbed a bottle of cinnamon and sprinkled some into the bowl. "See here, this much an' only this much."
Jack nodded and stirred the pancake batter, mixing the cinnamon in. "How often does Bobby get those migraines?" he asked a moment later.
"Too often," Em clucked her tongue. "He gets him pains too often. No sleepin' an' too much of the strong stuff. He never take days off an' you see his eyes when he gets them pains, ain't nothin' to cure all that."
"Why though? Everyone needs downtime, right? Even guys like...well guys like him."
Em let out a quick laugh and patted Jack on the shoulder. "You wanna be the next to tell Mr. Boss Man that he needs him downtime? You go ahead, boy, see what he say."
"I will," Jack set the stirring spoon aside. Something inside, he knew then not to mention how he'd helped Bobby that night, helped him to relax enough to fall asleep. He had a feeling that Bobby wouldn't like that being spoken of.
He caught a glimpse of movement near the door. Lucy stood in the doorway, biting her lip. She darted a gaze at Jack before looking away and moving fast to Em's other side. She hung back by the fridge, whispering to Em.
"No, he's here now, you gonna have to see that, Lucy girl," Em pointed to Jack. "That boy won't hurt ya, he won't dare, ain't that right?"
Jack shook his head. "I swear, I don't hit girls, honest. An'...an' even most guys neither. Not unless they hit me first."
Lucy fidgeted with her hands, looking between Em and Jack. "No hit..." she echoed slowly, sounding the words out.
"Never."
Em rested one wide hand on Lucy's shoulder. "See, Lucy girl? He's a good boy, I can see, an' you trust Em, yeah?"
"Si...y-yes," Lucy whispered.
"Then you don't need to scurry from him. He's here like you, like us," she rubbed Lucy's shoulder gently.
Lucy flicked a glance at Jack, a hint of curiosity in her eyes at that. "Hurt...like u-us?" she asked.
Jack swallowed over the lump in his throat. He knew that look of fear, of pain and hurt. "Yeah," he managed to say without his voice breaking. "Yeah, hurt like you."
She bit her lip harder. "Hurt...We no hurt anymore," she said carefully, looking to Em for reassurance, "No here."
Em smiled proudly. "That's my Lucy girl. Not here, ain't nobody gonna be hurt anymore in this house."
Jack grabbed the spoon and turned away, his chest tight and his eyes burning. He'd heard that line many times before. "I think these are good to go, Em," he said, keeping his words light.
She leaned over, examining the bowl, "Yeah, they good to go. You warm the pan, boy," she said, nodding once to him, her eyes dark and gleaming with understanding.
Jack nodded silently. Yeah, he knew what she meant. He set the pan on the stove and turned the burner on, listening for the footsteps overhead.
x
Angel pushed the curtains back from the windows, whistling under his breath as he did so. "Damn, nearly a foot since last night."
"I figured," Bobby muttered from the bed. He sat up with slow, stiff movements. "Gonna end up snowed in sooner or later."
"I'm surprised you're up an' breathin'," Angel let the curtain fall somewhat back into place, a small beam of light pushing into the dark room. "Not even nine yet."
Bobby ran a hand over his sleep rumpled hair and winced, licking his dry lips. He reached out, searching for his glass of whiskey. He tugged the glass over and gulped it down, sputtering when he swallowed. "The fuck? Water?" He stared at the glass, bleary eyed, "Where the....what the fuck?"
"The look on your face, man,” Angel snickered.
"That ain't funny," Bobby slammed the glass down hard on the table. "Don't fuckin' switch my drinks on me."
"What?" Angel's chuckles faded away, "The hell you on, Bobby? I didn't take your whiskey, I sure as fuck didn't tuck you in or give you water."
Bobby blinked a few times and then groaned, falling back against the pillows. "Jesus..."
"I don't think he does that shit backwards," Angel drawled. "I mean, yeah water into wine, but whiskey into water? No point to that."
"Shut up," Bobby growled. He covered his face with both hands, sighing. "That goddamn kid..."
Angel opened the curtains on each window, one by one, "Ahh, yeah, your little playboy in the kitchen, uh huh," he grinned, "You shoulda seen him waitin' at the gate. Poor kid look half froze to death. I let him on account of not wantin' to explain the frozen white boy to you."
"Before you ask, yes, I gave him the card, and no, I don't need any lectures."
"Well I know that," Angel cracked the window open and shivered at the cold gust of wind. "I saw the card. You think I'm gonna let jus' anyone waltz in here? Not likely. And hey, what you fuck an' who you fuck ain't my concern."
Bobby pushed the blankets back with a muffled curse. "I'm not fucking him!" he snapped, "You an' Jerry...I swear..."
"Why not? Why else would you get him to...ohhhh," Angel pressed his lips together. Laughing when Bobby was so annoyed, never high on the good idea list.
"It doesn't matter," Bobby finally said gruffly. "He's homeless, needs a place to stay an' you know as well as I do what those damned shelters are like. End of story."
Angel nodded and crossed his arms over his chest while Bobby stripped his wrinkled shirt off. "Em sent me for ya," he said. "She's got your boy makin' pancakes. He's skinny, so ya know Em's on a mission to fatten him up."
"I'm sure that'll be a torture Jack will endure with one of his fuckin' teasin' smiles," Bobby muttered. He stalked towards the bathroom and spun the taps for the shower. He stripped off and stood under the hot spray of water, eyes closed, thinking of how much better his head felt right then.
X
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-08-08 02:27 am (UTC)I think this might've been the best chapter yet - you worked some angst about Jackie-boy's past in there, started the slow slide into slashiness (temple massages really do do wonders for an aching head), and dragged Angel back into the picture. :) The whole Em-Lucy-Jack conversation was wonderfully written; you did an amazing job of getting the emotions in it across.
Also, Jack switching Bobby's whiskey for water and Bobby being all pissed about it was pretty funny. :D Great chapter, I can't wait for the next one!
no subject
Date: 2009-08-19 01:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-08 08:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-19 01:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-08 01:51 pm (UTC)LOVED the exchange between Bobby and Angel, and Em and Angel. Basically, I love the way you write Angel.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-19 01:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-11 05:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-19 01:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-11 03:34 pm (UTC)Very nice!
MORE SOON!
-shadow
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Date: 2009-08-19 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-02 12:40 am (UTC)