Fake Fan Fiction ❯ Fight or Flight ❯ Luck of the Devil ( Chapter 6 )

Anonymous/MediaMiner Reviewer(s):

 

Raven Black: Thanks, as always, for taking the time to review! I dunno why I had Dean call them Buffy…but I did mean it as an insult, because Buffy's stupid and I hate her. But that in no way reflects my feelings about our beloved NYPD cops—just Dean's… However, anytime I insult Rose, it does reflect my feelings. So remember that. Old rat bastard…Well, anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Don't worry about the not-reviewing. But what did you mean by the baby comment…? Just…kinda curious…

 

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Judas, Brutus, and Lilah truly didn't have to wait for long before the hunters showed up, but it seemed like quite a time, mainly because of Brutus's complaints that this was boring and how much longer would they have to wait?

 

But Jude forced his annoyance down, reminding himself that though Brutus was his brother, and had already outlived their parents, in so many ways he was still young—and would be forever. A tragic, but not unheard of, side-effect of being turned—some simply couldn't handle the experience. Brutus had been one of those. He'd survived it, but his mind, while coherent, did not age past fifteen, which was how old he'd been when Jude turned him, to save him from the illness threatening his life—

 

Jude pulled himself from the memories with an ironic inner-chuckle. Strange, how the memories could still twinge after all this time. Oh, it was such a mistake to say that vampires had no desires beyond the pleasures of the flesh, no feelings beyond those of anger and evil…

 

“God, Jude, this is taking forever…”

 

Then again, though he did try to have patience with his brother, at the moment all Jude wanted was to tumble into bed with Lilah and sleep until nightfall, and instead he was forced to leave their home and take care of those fool hunters. And he was hungry, and already beginning to feel the effects of the whiskey he'd never quite built up an immunity to, even after all these years. And looking at Lilah was making his cold blood surge, and he couldn't do anything about it…

 

In short, he was losing his carefully reined-in temper.

 

But luckily, before he could open his mouth and say something he would regret later, Lilah looked over at the two of them from her vigil at the window and said, “They're coming.”

 

In seconds, Jude was at her side, looking out the window at the car inching down the street. Behind him, he sensed it as Brutus stood up.

 

“Not yet, Brute. Not until I say.”

 

“I know.”

 

Jude watched as the car stopped, and the two young men got out. They conversed for a moment, and then turned to the building that they somehow knew was the vampires' home…

 

It was a bit surprising when the two cops showed up, but it was nothing that couldn't be dealt with. Just as long as they…

 

“Wait, Brute.”

 

“I know, Jude!”

 

Jude, Lilah, and Brutus watched as the foursome argued, watched as the taller hunter explained things, watched as the shorter hunter took off for the home Jude was about to lose, followed by the black-haired cop…

 

Have to wait until they're all inside…

 

The cop entered the building…

 

The other two were a few yards away…

 

And Brutus got impatient, as teenagers are wont to do, and pressed the button early.

 

XXX

 

“Sam…”

 

The voice faded in and out, and Sam thought vaguely that there must be something wrong with his ears. They kept making an irritating noise, for some reason—like ringing, but muted to more of a buzz. His head felt all floaty…and his arm hurt.

 

“Sam.”

 

And the voice…that was gonna get annoying soon…

 

“SAM!”

 

A pair of hands grabbed at the collar of his jacket and shook, and Sam snapped to awareness and pushed himself up on his elbows.

 

“You all right?” Ryo asked, putting an arm around him and helping him sit up.

 

“Uh…yeah…” Sam said slowly, his eyes on Ryo, taking in the details. The other man was so pale he had almost no color, and his face was smudged and dirty. And his eyes…his eyes were red and puffy, as if he'd been crying…

 

Sam began to get a sinking feeling in his stomach.

 

“What happened?” he asked, not sure he really wanted to know.

 

“T-there was an explosion…” Ryo said. His voice shook, and Sam's feeling of something wrong intensified. “I don't know how, but…but…”

 

Sam's head still wasn't exactly clear. Ryo's words kept slipping away, and took a long time to process. The quake in his words didn't help, either. But even so, he felt a deep pang of alarm at the word “explosion” and after a moment, he understood why.

 

“Where are Dean and Dee?” he asked slowly, his tongue seeming too thick to form words.

 

Ryo physically trembled—Sam felt it in the arm still supporting him—and his voice was nearly too soft to hear. “T-they were inside when it happened, Sam…”

 

He didn't sound as if he believed his own words—and Sam would not believe them, either. Ryo was wrong—Ryo was wrong, and that was all there was to it. This was the thought stubbornly sticking to Sam's fuzzy mind as he began to scramble to his feet—the only thought that was sticking right now. Ryo was wrong…

 

Ryo didn't try to stop him, and that was enough to say very clearly that part of him, at least, agreed with Sam's assumption. Part of him still hoped, against all hope, that the explosion wasn't nearly as serious as it looked…

 

Sam was relatively steady on his feet by the time he reached the blasted bits of what had been the door, and he charged in with admirable speed, given all of the hazards littering the ground.

 

The inside of the place was a mess, of course—boards, pieces of wall, and other remains were everywhere—and there was no sign of anyone standing. But there also wasn't anything—else—that told of anyone else having been caught in the explosion, and that alone kept Sam together. By the time Ryo joined him, he was digging through the rubble, throwing aside anything that didn't shift to reveal his brother like some kind of madman, not noticing that he was chanting Dean's name with every breath, almost too softly to hear. Objects that should have been impossible to budge moved easily under his hand and he didn't notice that either, just kept looking, looking, looking…

 

Ryo joined him after a moment of staring around, white-faced and tight-lipped, and the two of them worked without speaking, meaning that the only sounds were Sam's soft chanting and the scrape and creak of heavy objects on concrete.

 

Which was probably why both of them picked up the sound the second it came.

 

It was not a loud sound. Actually, it was barely there at all, and probably would have been indistinguishable if the two of them hadn't been so keyed up. As it was, though, Sam picked up the noise easily—a quiet shuffle, and then a very soft groan. In an identical movement that would have been comical under any other circumstances, Sam and Ryo turned to look at the source of the noise—a pile of cracked and broken wood and plaster and cement on the other side of the room that they hadn't gotten to yet.

 

They were still staring at the pile when it moved, and then burst, revealing the stocky form of a man struggling to rise.

 

A split second later, a raspy, unusually quiet voice echoed through the silent room. “NYC sucks!”

 

Sam had become almost completely steady during the search. The dizziness had faded and his confusion was ebbing, and though the ringing in his ears wouldn't seem to just go away, he had thought he was fine.

 

But when he saw Dean moving, and heard him speak, Sam's knees began to buckle, and he had to lean against the nearest wall to stay standing. His throat closed up slowly, and he could only watch Ryo fly across the room to join his brother. He couldn't hear what they were saying above the sudden roaring in his mind, and slowly, he slid down the wall until he was sitting, trying to get himself back under control before Dean saw him.

 

He was still in the exact same position five minutes later, when a hand touched his shoulder gently. He started, and lifted his head from his knees to see Ryo once again looking down at him in concern.

 

“I managed to get them to stay sitting,” Ryo said to him, sounding remarkably calm considering the situation, though he looked a little pale still. “They're shell-shocked—moving might not be a good idea. I called an ambulance. Your brother has one scary glare, but I did it anyway, and one will be here soon. You okay?”

 

The last part was said in the same calm, professional way as the rest of it, and it took a moment for Sam to process the question. And even after he understood it, he had to wait a moment for a reply to come to him.

 

“I-I don't know…I don't feel…hurt…but I feel…weird…”

 

Ryo smiled gently. “You were a lot closer to the explosion than I was—it tossed you a good distance. I'm surprised your as coherent as you are.”

 

“Back at you. Seriously, men, does anything shake you?”

 

Ryo shrugged. “I'm a sharpshooter. If I let something shake me, someone could die. But what I show is no reflection on how I feel…” He was about to say more when Dean's voice cut through the relative quiet of the room.

 

“Hey, Sammy, get your ass over here or we're gonna have a problem.”

 

Ryo looked thoughtful. “You think he's mad?”

 

“Right now, Sam.”

 

Sam felt a slow grin tug at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, yeah. He's mad.”

 

XXX

 

“Dammit, Brutus!”

 

It was not Jude who uttered the epithet, but Lilah. She descended on Brutus like the locusts upon Egypt, while Jude watched with no expression at all.

 

“You idiot! Do you have any idea what you just did?”

 

Brutus looked sullenly at her, and didn't answer.

 

“You killed one of the brothers, and left the other alive! You killed a hunter, and let his fellow hunter live! He will want revenge! You may have just signed our death warrant, you stupid little bastard!”

 

“That's enough, Lilah,” Jude said, his voice soft and cold, cutting through the one-sided argument.

 

Lilah subsided at the command, and for a while the silence spiraled on with none of them looking at each other. Then, finally, Brutus spoke up in a small voice.

 

“I'm sorry, Jude.”

 

Jude turned his gaze on his brother, and Brutus shrank away, looking—not afraid, by any means, but certainly as if he was regretting ever setting up the bomb in the first place. And from the way he kept looking at Lilah, he did not appreciate her lecture. But then, what fifteen-year-old boy wants to be lectured by his older brother's mate?

 

Jude sighed. “I know you are. And we can deal with this—it's just a matter of choosing the right moment—”

 

“Jude.”

 

Jude turned quickly at the word—he was not accustomed to hearing Lilah surprised. She was looking out the window again, and he went to join her, looking out over her shoulder at the ambulance that was coming to a stop outside the wreckage that had once been their home.

 

“Well…” he said slowly, as the meaning of it came to him. “I'll be damned.”

 

XXX

 

The ambulance was far too crowded with both Dee and Dean riding in it—particularly since the latter was rather perturbed, and Sam had always sworn that when Dean was angry, he actually grew. Besides, there was the matter of the cars, and Dean would not tolerate the Impala being left behind. The problem was, Ryo was flatly refusing to leave Dee's side again—Dee, though conscious, seemed dazed and unfocused, and he was still barely responding to the activities around him, and Ryo was obviously more worried than he let on.

 

They solved the dilemma efficiently, however. In the end, Ryo crammed himself into the vehicle, after calling the precinct and reporting the incident, and arranging for a team to come and tie up the loose ends, and Sam remained reluctantly behind to drive Dean's car.

 

None of the group saw the three faces peering out from the window across the street as they left.

 

XXX

 

Sam never did understand exactly why doctors took so long to do their jobs. They were supposedly trained for all possible speed—they had to be, if they were going to respond efficiently to emergencies. But in all his dealings with catastrophes, the only truly fast workers Sam had seen were the EMTs that showed up on scene. It seemed that once a patient actually got inside the building alive, things were allowed to slow down.

 

It had always annoyed him thoroughly, until he couldn't sit still at all and, once or twice, had even come close to physically throttling whatever staff member happened to walk by at some unlucky moment.

 

The waiting took just as long as usual today, but today, Sam didn't mind as much. Oh, he was impatient, of course, but not as ready to kill as he had been in other situations like this. This was due in part to the fact that he was still trying to get his bearings back, and partly because of his utter relief at the simple fact that his big brother was still alive.

 

Sam did have one worry, though—Ryo. Though the other man had been very calm and quiet since the accident, he was still white as a sheet and he looked ready to fly apart at the first wrong word.

 

Sam didn't try to talk to him. He recognized that look—that wild, carefully contained desperation that was so valuable to one of Ryo's profession—and to one of Sam's, for that matter—and yet so delicate that it would completely shatter if not strictly controlled.

 

Ryo seemed uncomfortably good at maintaining the façade. He kept it up as he and Sam were taken to be looked over, and it didn't so much as flicker when he was pronounced “shell-shocked, but otherwise fairly healthy.”

 

They took longer to examine Sam himself. As Ryo had said, he had been much closer to the blast, and apparently he'd taken “quite a fall.” So, the hospital personnel were ridiculously thorough in their examination, refusing to admit themselves satisfied until it seemed that every inch of him had been poked, prodded and jostled so that if he hadn't felt the aftereffects of the explosion before, he was as sore as an old man now. They even took it upon themselves to change the bandage on his wrist—though, to Sam's vast relief, they pronounced it “a fine stitching job” and didn't try to undo what Dean had already done.

 

At last, though, Sam was free to join Ryo in the waiting room, and for another half hour or so they sat in silence.

 

As is often the case, the doctor who finally decided that maybe it was time to take pity on the two men brought rather anticlimactic news. Dee and Dean were “resting comfortably”—yeah, right, not unless Dean's possessed—and they would both be fine.

 

“Mr. Hampton can check out any time, but it seems that Mr. Laytner was closest to the actual blast, and so got the worst of it. I'd like to keep him overnight,” the doc concluded, and Sam fought down a sigh of relief at the end of the monologue. Ryo, however, only looked alarmed, and it took several reassurances that the stay was only for observation, and not in any way indicative of true danger to Dee, to calm him down.

 

“So we can see them now?” Sam asked. It was a rhetorical question, and the doctor must have figured that out, because he just murmured the room number and then excused himself to go do doctor things, leaving them to find the place on their own.

 

The two were sharing a room, and for a moment Sam was inclined to wonder what idiot made that mistake, though he suppressed the urge to laugh before going in.

 

And after taking a look at Dean's face, he was glad he did.

 

Dean was sitting up in his bed, arms crossed over his chest, scowling in annoyance. The second he saw Sam, the scowl deepened and he said, “You're one dead little geek, Sam.”

 

“Why?” Sam asked innocently. “Ryo called the ambulance.”

 

“You coulda stopped him,” Dean said sullenly.

 

Sam shrugged, and didn't reply. He certainly wasn't going to say, “Sorry, I was too busy falling apart to pay attention.” Because seriously, how lame would that sound?

 

“Seriously, though, you're okay?” Dean asked, though his frown didn't lighten.

 

“I'm fine. You did a crappy job on my arm, though—they decided to re-bandage it completely.”

 

Dean shrugged, still glaring, though he relaxed marginally. “Sorry, man. I was a little distracted that night. And you're still not off the hook.”

 

“Oh, relax. They'll release you any time, so you don't even have to stick around.”

 

“Why couldn't you have thrown that in earlier?”

 

“Because I'm deliberately trying to hurt you.”

 

“Shut up, Sammy.”

 

XXX

 

During Dean and Sam's oh-so-loving exchange, Ryo crept to Dee's side as if sneaking up on an opposing army. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a deep sense of apprehension.

 

Dee had maneuvered his bed so that he was sitting up, and as Ryo drew closer he saw that his eyes were open, and he looked considerably more alert than he had in the ambulance. He smiled when Ryo stopped at his bedside, and murmured, “Hey, you.”

 

“Hey,” Ryo replied, reaching out to take Dee's warm hand tentatively in his own, after glancing quickly at Dean and Sam. “How are you feeling?”

 

Dee's smile widened. “Like half a building fell on me. Oh, wait…”

 

Ryo's eyebrows knitted together as he frowned. “That's not funny.”

 

“Oh, come on, it's a little funny.”

 

But Ryo didn't lose its haunted look, and Dee sighed and tugged on his hand, pulling him down onto the bed. Ryo resisted at first, a little self-conscious as always, but Dee was insistent, and in a moment Ryo was sitting next to him on the bed, their hands still clasped tightly together.

 

Ryo wanted, so badly, to tell Dee exactly what was bothering him. But the fact was, that conversation was beginning to feel redundant even to him. So he stayed quiet and simply looked at Dee for a long time.

 

Dee had gotten most of his color back by now, and he had lost that vague, not-really-there expression. The dazed tone of his voice was nearly gone, too, and his eyes were clear, since they didn't have him on any drugs. He looked a little tired, but otherwise healthy, and Ryo felt a sense of relief so profound that he had to fight back tears.

 

Then Dee gave him a warm, gentle, sleepy smile, and Ryo couldn't hold himself back anymore. For a moment, he forgot the inhibitions and the shyness that made him so anti-PDA, and leaned forward to give his lover a long kiss.

 

XXX

 

Sam and Dean carefully, tactfully, and completely ignored Ryo and Dee from the moment Ryo reached the bedside, but that didn't stop Dean from saying in a low voice, “I hope you're not expecting that kind of major `moment'…”

 

Sam grinned, and actually managed a joking tone. “I'm just glad I don't have to sell my limbs to pay for a funeral.”

 

Dean smirked. “Nah. Just put my ashes in my baby and toss us in a lake somewhere.”

 

Sam tried to laugh, he truly did. But, God, that's not funny…

 

His weak chuckle must have satisfied Dean, though, because he shrugged and started to scramble out of bed. “C'mon, Sammy, let's get me out of here. We've got vamps to hunt.”

 

Sam didn't bother arguing with him. “Fine. You go. I'll meet you at the desk to sign my half.”

 

Dean shrugged. “Whatever. Five minutes.”

 

He left the room without looking back, and then Sam turned toward Ryo and Dee, just as they finally parted from their liplock. Sam tried not to let his embarrassment show as he approached them, and he thought he managed it pretty well.

 

“Uh…we're gonna go now…” Sam said awkwardly, unsure how they would take being interrupted.

 

Ryo froze for a second, then turned to him with a smile despite the blush fanning out over his features. “Oh. All right. Do you guys want a ride to Mother's tonight, or just directions?”

 

Sam shrugged. “Just directions, I guess. Dean'll want to drive himself. He needs the catharsis, after today.”

 

Ryo nodded, and freed his hand from Dee's long enough to jot down directions on a piece of paper from a little notebook he produced from his pocket. “Seven sharp. Mother won't stand for tardiness.”

 

Dee spoke up then. “Don't forget to tell her I'll come to see her the second they let me out of here.”

 

“Like she wouldn't force the promise out of me, anyway,” Ryo said, rolling his eyes. “But are you sure you don't want us to postpone?”

 

Dee shook his head. “Nah. No reason, and it'd just make her think something's really wrong.”

 

Ryo shrugged. “Well, the man has spoken. I'll see you guys tonight, Sam.”

 

“Yeah, and probably for the last time,” Sam replied, for some reason feeling like he needed to explain, at least a little. “Dean'll want to leave at first light if we waste the vamps today.”

 

For a moment, Sam could have sworn Ryo looked disappointed—but, no, now his face was a mask of skepticism that told Sam he wasn't quite as ready to believe in vampires as he was to believe in shapeshifters.

 

“Well, at least call before you go,” was all he said, though.

 

Sam wondered why for a moment, but he decided against asking and simply replied, “I'll try. See you tonight. Feel better, Dee,” he added, ducking out of the room as Dee murmured his thanks, and going to join his still-breathing, devilishly-lucky brother for a hunt he actually wanted to go on.

 

XXX

 

Judas was tired. Exhausted, actually. He hadn't slept in two days—he'd been too busy with the hunters—and on top of that, keeping the tension between his brother and Lilah from exploding into something major had taken a lot out of him.

 

As a result of all this, he gave an order—phrased as a request, of course—that once they'd fed a little, they would find a nice, empty place to bed down for a while. He wasn't too concerned with the idea of hunters finding them again—at least not for a while—but it was probably a good idea to get away from the explosion site, just in case.

 

So, that was how the trio ended up in this cool, abandoned old two-story building, bedding down on two stolen cots, Lilah and Jude in one and Brutus in the other. Judas was fairly full, and that always made him rather lethargic. Even Brutus's squirming wasn't going to keep him awake for long, he thought with satisfaction, curling himself around Lilah.

 

He was just drifting off into a doze when the door exploded inwards.

 

XXX

 

It only took about an hour to find the vampires' new location, thanks to Sam's freaky new ability. Or…well, Dean wasn't sure if it was an “ability”, per se, but maybe…heightened intuition? Of course, Sam wasn't exactly willing to enlighten him, or anything…

 

Then again, I haven't really been putting any pressure on him…but God, I'm no good at stuff like that!

 

Sam popped out from under the trunk lid and thrust a crossbow into his hands without looking at him, then began to load his own, working with a silent, single-minded focus that disturbed Dean a little, though he couldn't really say why. His brother had hardly said anything during the drive from the hospital, simply staring blankly out the window without seeming to really see anything. In fact, his only spoken word had been, “Here,” which had apparently meant that Dean was supposed to stop.

 

Something was bothering him, Dean was sure of it, but now didn't seem like the time to ask…

 

And then it was time to throw away all thoughts and focus on the fight, and Dean forced himself not to wonder anymore.

 

It didn't end up being much of a fight, actually. The vamps only outnumbered them by one, and they had apparently been feeding, because they were all going to sleep when the Winchesters burst in, and their reaction time was considerably cut down. Sam took care of the one closest to the door, the one who didn't look much older than mid-teens, just as he was scrambling to his feet, without even needing the use of dead man's blood—which actually turned out not to be the best possible way of doing things, because apparently that one was special to the other guy…

 

Sam, though, faced the fury with absolute calm. In fact, Dean's presence turned out to be completely pointless—Sam took out both the creatures with two easy shots and two precise swings of his machete, taking them all out entirely on his own.

 

And where Dean would normally be bursting with pride, now he felt a twinge of alarm. Sam looked so cold, so unfeeling…not that these things deserved an ounce of pity, but still, Sam usually showed something during a hunt, even if it was just his loathing of the job. Now…nothing.

 

But with Dean's alarm came a pang of familiarity, and finally he figured out why. Sam had been this way before, and more than once. In fact, this was how he acted every time something had nearly killed Dean, dating back to his very first hunt.

 

So that was kind of a relief, to know that Sam hadn't completely lost his mind.

 

`Cause God knows we have enough insanity in our lives…

 

XXX

 

For a long time after Sam left the room, Ryo and Dee sat together in silence, Ryo half-lying next to Dee on the bed, though he was ready to spring away the second he heard someone approach. Dee seemed utterly relaxed, and he was rapidly lulling Ryo into the same state, running a hand through his hair in that special way of his…

 

“I'll be sorry to see them go.”

 

Ryo hadn't even realized he'd said it aloud until Dee's hand paused momentarily before resuming its gentle strokes, and he said, “Really? I won't.”

 

“I know that. You've made it pretty obvious,” Ryo replied.

 

He didn't realize he may have said something offensive until Dee dropped his hand and asked sharply, “What's that mean?”

 

Ryo opened his eyes to look up at his partner, and was surprised to see that Dee's face was dark with anger. “Nothing,” he said, trying to sound soothing, and sounding patronizing instead, which of course only made Dee more annoyed.

 

“Ryo…” Dee growled.

 

“Well, you do have to admit that you haven't exactly been polite to them—”

 

“Well, neither were they!”

 

“Look at the circumstances, Dee,” Ryo snapped, beginning to lose his temper in spite of himself. “One of them was injured, and the other was concerned for him and him only, and you and I were standing between them and what they considered safety. Besides, they'd just come off a major fight, and then you start in with that NYPD cop stuff—”

 

“I am an NYPD cop! And so are you! And that was a completely non-law-abiding fight! Have you forgotten the law, Ryo?”

 

“Well, without that law-breaking that shapeshifter never would have been killed and you'd be dead by now. And if it wasn't for them I would still be trying to find you, still thinking I'd lost you. You nearly died on me, and if it wasn't for Dean and Sam—”

 

“Oh, good God, Ryo, when are you going to get over that?”

 

An abrupt silence took the place of their heated words, and for a moment neither of them moved. Then Ryo pushed himself slowly off the bed and walked across the room, and the silence continued.

 

Then Dee spoke, and he sounded absolutely stricken. “Oh…oh, Ryo, I'm so sorry. That was so stupid. I didn't mean it, I didn't…”

 

Ryo couldn't look at him.

 

“Ryo, please, I—”

 

He sounded like he was going to cry, and Ryo finally glanced over, and softened marginally at the look on Dee's face, enough to keep the ice from his voice when he finally said something. “You're tired. Get some rest. I'll be back to pick you up in the morning.”

 

“A-aren't you gonna stay?” Dee asked uncertainly, sounding like a frightened child.

 

Ryo sighed, and shook his head. “I think…I should just go back to the precinct and…get some work done.”

 

“Ryo…” Dee's voice sounded one more time, and Ryo froze by the door. “You know that I love you more than anything, right?”

 

Ryo half-turned, and smiled wanly. “I know.”

 

And then he left Dee alone, to brood on his guilt.

 

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AN: I know, random place to end. But I dunno, it seemed right to me. And also, so sorry it took me so long. But I do have an excuse, and it goes by the name of The Last Herald-Mage Trilogy, by Mercedes Lackey. Picked the first one up last week, and didn't write a single thing until I'd finished off the series. If any of you have ever read a truly amazing book, you'll know what I went through during that time. If it helps, I do feel bad…

 

Oh, and before I beg for reviews, there's one other thing you guys should know. I did not intend to give the vampires actual personalities. They were initially supposed to be just another crush-kill-destroy mission of our beloved, sexy Winchester boyz, and the personality part just kinda happened. But they're gone now, so I guess it doesn't matter. But can anyone find evidence of my twisted sense of humor? If you can…well, I have nothing to give you, but it'll at least mean you're fairly literate!

 

Now we're at the part where I beg.

 

PLEEEEEASE REVIEW!