-----THE DOCKS Halloween Day-----

The leather folds of leather overlapped as her arms crossed to hold the fabric close to herself. The night was frigid. Uncomfortably so, even for her too-warm skin. Coming upon the ominous crashing of the water against rotting wood in collaboration with the lightless sky, she could barely see. Too much Darkness for her taste. She felt heavy, even afraid. But mostly, heavy. They came upon the building, and Chase slowed to a stop. "Get y'happy ass up there, get y'stuff. Be quick about it."

The very act of them standing in such a place seemed illegal on its own. Adrenailne had kicked in, keeping her tense. Fight or Flight was aflare. A pin could drop, and make her wince. Chase was nervous. Coming to stand against the wall near the door, she pulled her cell phone out.

Pressing a single number, she placed the contraption to her ear. It went straight to voicemail. She frowned, and spoke. "Hey babe. I'm helpin' my friend at the Docks relocate.Was hopin' y'could come by to help. We won't be long. Call me back, schway?" Chase nodded to herself, and hung up the phone. Stuffing it into her back pocket, it was placed on vibrate. So as not to startle the carnivorous rats that lurked this part of town. And not just rodents.

She didn't like the silence of the Inn. There was usually the sound and smell of men drinking themselves to death within. She gulped, looked over to her friend before looking back to the door," Sway. I'll be back. It's all in bags anyways." She bit her lip and twiddled Inked fingers. One big breath after another came before she stepped forwards and into the Inn.

It was very much like the Red Dragon Inn, but years were not very kind to it. The paint on the walls was well faded and worn down, even peeling in places. Each step she made, the floor creaked and groaned to even her lithe weight. The stairs were groaning rather warily. Almost warning her that with one wrong step she could fall through. She gulped as she rushed, running up the stairs almost as that spine crawling dread grew more and more threatening.

When she stepped in, she started to stuff the loose items of her room into another, rather large bag. Anything of value was shoved in a book of sorts and put in her smaller bag at her side. It was sealed shut. She only took a moment or two to gather up everything, from the towels she had purchased to her tooth brush. Scully was making her way down the stairs not even five minutes later, determined to get the hell out of there.

Chase nodded simply, and arched her chin toward the building to urge her within. When Squeaks was out of view, she immediately reached for her back pocket. Phone was pulled out. The screen became a'glow, giving her bronzed face a near ghastly glow. No missed calls. No text messages. This time, the cell phone was placed loosely into her front pocket, half of it sticking out of the pocket. She needed something to distract her. Anything to forget where they were. Then, she heard something.

There was only one sound at first, which was acceptable. Maybe a paper bag rolling down the street, probably nothing at all. That's what she told herself. Then, another sound. That had her tense. Slitted pupils dilated, as she looked through dark. She saw nothing, and almost hoped to find something. Anything. A reason was all she needed. Again, another sound. That made her step away from the wall of the building. Fingers came to clench, curling to bite her palms. The sound struck thrice which made her look over her shoulder as she circled around. Then, she knew. Big lips parted to utter an expletive. Before she got to speak, a form came to zoom behind her.

Anaconda-thick arms came to clinch. One shoved a leather hand over her mouth. The other grabbed her shoulder, shoving her face-first into the wall further from the door. All the quick, violent movements shook the phone out of her tight pocket, the plastic clattering against the floor.

It was the sound outside that spurred her. She was dropping her bags at the door before she burst through into the night. Pink hair whipped over her face as she searched through the dark for Chase. When she spotted the rainbow haired girl against the wall she shouted out boldly," Oi! Ya pissant! Get your f***ing hands off of my friend!" She couldn't tell who it was in the darkness, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She growled out to him, her body jumped forwards.

She didn't care, not in the slightest, about what happened to her, but Chase on the other hand. That's where lines were drawn. As she had said earlier, Chase gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. Hell, she had given Scully plenty when she deserved none. One of her fists lifted in an attempted swing towards the attacker's face, but it was shot down. She received a left hook right across her face, forcing her body off balance. She fell to the side, letting out a heavy grunt as she hit the ground. Her palms stung against the gravel, but it didn't keep her from moving to stand up.

She knew that left hook, but even then she couldn't put her finger on it," Chase, say something to me if you're -." There was a scream of pain in the darkness as one of the man's feet connected with her gut.

"Not a word, RockStar." Sausage-thick fingers pushed the skull beneath the thick dreads against the wall to scrape. The pressure was splintering the aged wood into her cheek. Hisses of breath slid out of her throat. Laughter rattled in the man's voice. The man's throat was hoarse with cancer from smoke.

Chase didn't care for orders. "Scully, move!" It was muttered against the wall, in spite of her orders. Chase never was a good captive.

The man tutted her. "Bad girl.." The arm that was torn from the wall was folded behind her back, and snapped. A deafening snap ripped through the night. The pain was overpowering, leaving her to cry out into the wall. Knees didn?t want to work anymore, but were kept upright with the man pressed close behind her. More laughter came, the two targets subdued.

"Scully, baby, there you are." The man at Chase's back spoke into her ear in a near seductive tone. Intentionally, his lips came to run against the Gypo's pierced ear. He then turned behind toward the ground. Chase was in enough pain to think nothing of escape. Tears smeared into the walls flaking paint.

"And you brought us a celebrity to play with. I'm almost ready to make up with ya right now!" The other men laughed maliciously, many coming to examine each of them with demented interests.

Coughing for a moment or two, her breath rasping as she moved to stand. One hand was clenching at her gut and blood was dripping from the corner of her lip. She ran a scraped up hand against her lip, wiping the blood from her face. She narrowed her eyes on the man, panting for needed breath. There was a pain in her side, she was doing her best to ignore, but her eyes were watering as much as Chase was," Let her go D. She didn't do nothin to you." It wasn't true, but still. She didn't like the situation.

"Shut up, this isn't your call ya slut. You didn't think you could just leave us did ya Scully? Didn't think you could just wander off without saying good bye?" Another arm shot forwards, fat and short in a way. A hand struck across her right cheek and she winced out. She felt a foot in the back of her knee, toppling her forwards.

In the background there was the voice of another man,' On your knees Scully. Show the boss some love.' Reminders of another thing she would sooner forget.

One palm was on the ground before her. More pants falling from her lips. Again she called out to Chase," Chase... I'm sorry..." It was her fault she had gotten into this mess," Chase.." She was moving to stand again, this time a hand reached out and grabbed her by her pink hair. This time her face was pushed into the ground. One man was practically sitting on her, keeping her down.

Any small grinding noises against the halves of bone were deafening, and even more unbearable with forceful pressure from behind. Panting between sobs, she began to quiet herself. Eyes were wide open against flaked paint and flecks of wood. Red crumbs swollen with the water of her tears cascaded to the ground in a rain. Her mind was tunneled into her arm. The pain was monopolizing her thoughts.

If Squeaks spoke, she didn?t hear it.

She wasn?t talking, but the words of cries were their own little language. A language with the alphabet of only one sentence. It was colored with expletives, peppered with prayers. Her heels scraped the floor as her weight juggled against the strong knees of her assailant. Yet, deaf with wing flaps of voices and laughter riddled with the wave crashes.

Suddenly, she was lifted again and slammed against the wall. Why she was, she didn?t know. Out of the scattering charades of marches, the man pushing her yelled into her ear. Only then did she engage in what he yelled into her ear.

?Rocker. I?m talking to you. Listen up.? It was said with thorns, placed to metaphorical horror pressure points. ?I used to beat off to you on MTV. Can you tell?? That had her search for why. She found it. It sickened her. And she wasn?t going to be coy about it.

?Y?sick tweeker... ? Chase couldn?t stand it. The pain, the pressure, and most of all, the pain. She could feel a porcelain nose along her dreadlocks. This was enough. Anything was better than this.

Staying still was getting her nothing. Anything is better than this.
In the death and black water of this manic womb had her near the brink. It was then that-

Brrr. . . Brr. . . Brrrrrr. . . .

Chase turned her head, inched it over her shoulder. She saw the blue glow. Hearing the buzz against the concrete had her cry harder.

Shoving backward, she used gravity to speed into a spin of her heel. She turned, and fell to the ground with the paperweights of two men coming to accommodate her.

?1 missed call from a Brandon. That your new dealer on you, Rocker?? Now above her, he continued to press down this time. The two piece arm was now swollen to a near inflatable shape.

A limb trembled as it reached upwards. Her good one. She wanted the phone back.

The man fed off of it. Like children with puppets, they laughed in sync with the gesture. All of a sudden, her middle finger became erect, and pointed. Then, the laughter turned to coos of shock.

Beneath the tears, and the crunched forehead of excruciating pain, she grinned. ?Y?guys are so dead y?don?t even know it. Keep this up, an? you?ll see. Brandon ain?t the one y?need to be frettin? over. It?s yours truly.? Chase knew the coin was twitching. It was near the point of flip. The pain wasn?t even a factor. For once, the thorn in her side took the stage for the Ace up her sleeve.

?Squeaks...? She called, only for her bird to be thrown into the ground by a heel. The next part had that smile leave her face as if horror was a soft drink landing on the ?Pause? button. She was frozen. The handle of knife budded on her back, along with the roots of fresh blood staining her back. Guttural coughs came from her mouth with drops of red to smudge onto her cheek.

Brandon took his time driving towards the docks. Chase hadn't called him back and told him where to be, exactly, so he drove around in circles. After not finding his girl, he picked up the phone and tried again. He frowned and tossed the phone back onto the seat when it went to voice mail, once again.

Not sure exactly what pulled him towards that street with the run down Inn nestled at the end of it, Brandon easily steered the truck. A flash of metal, and the radio was turned off. "Hey!" He shouted through the windshield. Quickly the truck skidded to a halt. "Hey, stop that!" He could hear crying, women's crying.

Jumping from the truck, Brandon grabbed a shovel. He held it defensively as he entered the dark street. "Chase, baby?" the hairs on his arms stood on end as the smell of copper wafted up and into his nose. The more he moved, the stronger the scent became. His eyes grew wide to accomodate the darkness.

"Lover boy.." A man's voice to his right and he swung the shovel, hands stinging as the flat, metal end struck and crunched bone. He stepped back, trying his best to see in the dark.

"The hell's going on here?" He called out, swinging the shovel like it were a baseball bat.

Somewhere between watching the man in front of Chase fall and her abusers? fall, Scully had lost energy. She just lay there, staring forwards at Chase, pleading with her body to move. Everything was going hazy, foggy; too much pain was being mixed in her system. Suddenly all she wanted to do was go to sleep.

Fingers were brushing hair from her battered face. Eyes caught sight of Chase right there besides her. A strained breath was pulled in and she responded to Chase weakly, ?Rosew- wind?? Scully was crying again, ?I?m s-s-sorry. I didn? didn? know.? Every breath she took hurt.

?M.. my.. book.? The book was the only clue she had for sorting this mess out. Several of it held things she could hardly remember; things from her high days to give her sobering thoughts.

She could smell the blood; feel its warmth starting to pool a bit against her face from her nose and lips. Her lame arm twitched feebly when she tried to move it towards her rainbow-haired friend.

She wasn?t aware of any other man. She only knew that, for some reason, she could sleep now. That everything would be okay. Her eyes closed on everything in the world so that she could seek peace. Her breathing slowed, easing the pain in her sides only a small bit.

Rasps of breathing would be one of the small details that announced she was still among the living. Small whistle sounds came with each exhale from her nose. Pink hair fell back in her face, but did little to hinder the state of it.

A book, the one tossed so easily aside, lay closed and face up in the darkness. It was thick, it?s papers thin and edges lined. On the inside, the words,? To Scully, may your faith and strength never leave you, Your Mother.? Though tattered and worn, the bible had served a purpose for Scully for many years.

Perhaps even Chase could remember her old dealer carrying that around from time to time, or always fearing to leave it behind. The only difference between then and now was that it held secrets; secrets they wanted back from her; before she gave those secrets to the right hands.

Scully had just learned, secrets could be a deadly thing. The message was now clear to her. Her old family would go to any length to make sure those secrets stayed as such.

Despite the fact that the Gypsy inspired change, Scully should have known, the family wasn?t going to let her get away. Not that easily.

Somewhere a phone is ringing that a hound dog wildly bays toward.

?Gauge! Shush, it?s just my phone. Come on,? and he takes the dog by the collar, pulling him down from the side of his bed as he looks down at the phone. Huh. Brandon. He was just wondering what that guy was doin?. ?Hey man.?

The tidings dampen him, he hadn?t heard Brandon sound like that, not ever. He hangs up immediately and heads for the docks. Shane didn?t own a car or anything like that, but he did have a bike. It was fortunate he wasn?t far off from the docks and when he arrived the scene was surreal. After all, he had hardly seen Chase or Skulls in low spirits let alone in loose spirited ways that spilled on the gorund. He shoved his bike to the earth as he bounded over to them.

?Holy Mary,? he cursed under his breath, momentarily froze by it all. Since Brandon nursed Chase he went for Skulls. He double checked everything Brandon hand already and reached under her neck, fingers working along the bones to see if there was a fracture. All the way down her side, looking for a serious break. None. That was perhaps the best news upon his arrival.

?They need a hospital now. Can we fit in your truck?? and he looked to see if Brandon?s truck needed to be cleared of anything, ?Christ man, it?s a lot of blood. They need more blood and some handy stitches, yah know?? He though they could have piled in the bed of it as Brandon drove.

His focus was, mostly, not to notice how much blood was already on his hands from touching her as little as he already had. Had he ever looked so strict, so forlorn? Perhaps, when one of his brothers died.

Mixed with grunts and murmurs were the obvious tears. Stormy clouds with the properties of tar came to mix with the moving blobs of skin.

Constant voices of panic and quiet were head. She was touched several times. Each time, she winced and drew back harshly. That did not help any. That broken arm was thick with the blood going there. Sadly, it wasn?t as thick as it should be. Most of her blood was lost, and going to that wound. Chase was no giant, and didn?t have all that blood to spare.

That hand that was on her face rested over her mouth. Words were so far away. This feeling was familiar, but the pain was not. So this was disorientation was like, with death attached by the seam. It was this close. Belief was too much to do. She felt gravity?s pull on her wounds, making her groan a drawn-out cry. Placed on the truck?s bed, she felt the ribbed bottom beneath the tarp. She was breathing unevenly, and the sobbing was making the breath wasted.

?Is.. this it?? She said it out loud in drones, but she had really only thought it. At the moment, thoughts and words were as sorted as alphabet soup floating in broth.

Dim rumbles and definite vibrations came to her back, and made the pain in her arm unbearable. She rolled to one side. Eyes were better off staying closed. The bad arm was above, away from the painful moving surface. It was unwise, allowing the break to become more and more disjoint from alignment.

The dying piano keys seemed to be tapped in the distance. She heard something else, and cried away whatever sounds may have been around her. Feathers of once vibrant colors were a blackened red, clumped and heavy with mixed DNA. She was whimpering into the bed?s tarp.
Everything hurt.

?I waited.. t-too long..? The hand that shielded her face fell limp. It took too much for it to stay where she wanted it to stay. Rain drops made her shiver. Rain wasn?t hinted in the skies. She felt tapped, by cold. The tap turned to a brush. The brush began to linger.

?Ch-ch? Chilly..? She was in delirium. In the median between soundness and complete dream. The pretty Technicolor posie was withering. That cheer, that funk, it was growing mute. She was too tired to shiver. And far too beaten to hold on to whatever warmth was left. There was no light. Somehow, she expected one. No opening doorway of divine light.

There was just a darkness that seemed like a pool of water with the lights off.

She was floating, and reaching into more nothing.

A bump in the road had her hop an inch off the bed and back onto it. It was as if sledgehammers came to plunge into her in every orifice. Needles lit by fire were being forced into her joints, mostly just her arm.
The hurt kept her a bit more animate, as a new bout of sobbing had her hide her face in the tarp?s ground. She hated crying. She knew she wasn?t alone.

Like any, she was a victim of vanity. Pride rule her, and with that came the shame and guilt when weakness was in crude view. Silver strings were clumped with red patches along the charms and trinkets. Rings were of a red coat, and began to brown and flake. The black fingernails were chipped at certain angles, as was the nail themselves from the damage.

She was sleepy. With sleep, it would all go away. All the piping hot needles and merciless sledgehammers would go away, wouldn?t they? It seemed like a good idea. It was then that the sorrow and shame also began to fade and flake off. As was most of her other motions. She was growing still, and cold. She was falling into a deep sleep.

Possibly, the deepest sleep of all.

Instead of bringing them to the penthouse apartment that he and Chase shared, Brandon drove to the hunting lodge that he had taken Shane to on occasion. Not much hunting got done as the best friends drank the weekends away.

The truck pulled up and he killed the lights before jumping out and running to the back. He aided Shane in bringing the girls inside. As he held Chase's nearly lifeless body in his arms, he bit back the tears as he kissed her cold lips. "Please baby, hang in there. Don't you give up on me."

He placed Chase down beside the pink haired girl beside the fireplace. He and Shane took turns placing glasses of water to their mouths. As he kneeled between the girls, holding and patting Chase's hand, he looked up at the healer.

"Good heart, have you and your friends." The ancient one with her straggly brown hair and army jacket moved closer to the four of them. "Out of my way!" screeched in her ancient language, but the translation was clear. Brandon gave Chase's hand one last kiss before laying it on her chest. He then joined Shane across the room.

He remained silent, his stare intent at the crone's back as she worked her magic over the girl's. His jaw ticked with the pressure of gritted teeth and his mouth was a worried, grim white line. A million questions filled his mind. But now was not the time nor the place for them.

Slowly he felt his knees buckle and he sat heavily in a sturdy wooden chair. "Please." he whispered and looked up to the ceiling. A silent prayer was offered to whoever was listening.

The world was heavy. Gravity was cruel against her, without a grain of strength for her to ward away the depths. Passion and animated responses to anything diminished. Yet, within the sinking black was someone. There was somebody there with her. It didn?t feel majestic, or divine. And no light came with this feeling of presence. She had withdrawn into this feeling, in hopes of discovering its identity. It?s name.

She knew of the calls made by many shamans to call upon the unborn and beyond. And her invisible voice called to it. She wanted to know what it was. It felt familiar, but she knew it wasn?t the Other. She was well hidden, and wouldn?t stroll through her subconscious when Chase was occupying that territory.

She called, and reached. She had to have known who it was. It didn?t threaten her. She swam through the heavy clouds and overlapping curtains of black and sleep. Searching through the sequences of nothingness, she reached. And reached. Her innards called for it. Begged for identification, for a sign.

---

The healer came to grasp upon the scope of her injuries. Her wounds.

Upon a spiritual level were further damages. There was a heavier, spiritual hindrance. A weight.

As the healer delved into her patient to undergo the process of reparations, it caused her to halt violently. There was a blockage. Something was there, beyond the stab wound and broken limb. Sure, there were two sides to this spirit. That wasn?t what had startled her.

There was something dark, and unwavering within.

There was Another within the form. One that dwelled within. The healer sifted through to the fading heart rate, past the blood loss. And with all those vitalities ignored, it was out in the open. It was the only strong thing remaining in the girl?s body. The girl?s hand came to hover above Chase?s stained, weakened chest. It was originally there to restore the heart?s strength, but that?s where she sensed it. There was something in the way.

The healer?s ribbons of health and reinforcements were grasped not by the ailments of the Gypsy, but by that unknown entity. She felt the pull. The greed within the grasp it took upon the healing energies that were being secreted by the healer. The healer noticed that another had begun to absorb her endeavors. She knew it did not mean well, and proceeded to draw back her arm.

As she did, Chase?s chest arched up with it. As if strings were suddenly attached to the woman?s hand and her chest. A malicious energy supply had been established, making the healer unable to disengage.

And at the resistance, Chase?s eyes opened. They were vacant, but opened. She looked horrified, but unaware.

Seeing the Gypsy?s thorax move of its own accord in sync with her hand, a look of utter shock came over her face. She was flabbergasted. Her hand lowered close to the girl?s chest, bringing her back to rest on the ground. Her chest moved in harmony with her hand. Sudden fear came over the healer, having her draw her hand back violently, which made

Chase be thrown upwards and dropped violently back to the floor.

Chase?s eyes opened with every pull. When she hit the ground in a fit of dead weight, her eyelids fell closed.

--

The Chase inside the body was unaware of the outside. She was within herself, searching through the dark waters and clouds for that presence. Something was there, she knew it. She was getting closer. A small excitement was prompted. She would know soon, and it was someone she knew. As if reaching to grab it, a force grabbed her wrist. It was sudden, harsh, and painful. She was torn from the darkness, and into a darker type of darkness.

But in this sudden touch, the identity was clear. She knew that hand from anywhere. As she was being sped into further black, she looked into the face of what had grabbed her. She knew that face. Especially the name that went with it. And all of a sudden, she understood. She knew where it was taking her. In her moment of weakness, an Agent of Wickedness had entered to infiltrate to reclaim a spirit for the Underworld. She knew his name. He wasn?t who she remembered anymore.

--

The healer was startled the first time, but now gained a stubborn desire to restore this woman. Her professional reputation was at stake! By saving this life, her reputation would gain more prestige. This was a challenge to her expertise. And now that the war cry was made by her opponent, there was a fearless determination coming over the healer?s face. It was a spiritual hurdle. Simple as that. It would be difficult to ostracize, but it was doable. The woman?s passion was up to the task. An opened hand came to brandish above Chase?s chest once more, fingers spreading slowly after. As her fingers spread, Chase?s eyes opened again. Slitted pupils were dilated to a near black, showing little to no red, or orange. Her eyes were opened, but unseeing. They say nothing. Within that gaze were a doll?s vitals.

Lifeless, thoughtless. Those eyes were simply that. Opened eyes.

The healer was a strange woman. Her hands thin, skeletal with roasted chicken skin stretched over the bone. He noticed the leather of her hands a lot, especially now when it seemed pivotal that those digits were spiderweb spread over Chase's sternum. He couldn't tell who was being the puppet. Was the healer holding the strings? Chase seemed the surprised one but so, also, was there alarm in the healer's lined face.

It read to him surreal and he wondered if this could at all be real. It had to be. It had to be because he'd never smelled anything in his dreams before. But flesh and blood, the rot and the flesh were all carnal sensations thick and heavy in his nose.

He realized he was holding his breath. He let it out and it sounds like a gasp in a momentarily quiet moment. The Chase doll slumped and awkward and strange and somehow, so much more than just sick. Shane had seen a share of men die in little civil conflicts and though their eyes looked far away, you did not doubt the soul had left them. He found when he was looking at Chase that instinctively he did not think "the soul is gone" but instead searched for "where has it gone?" Instinctively, like on some strange spiritual level he knew it was there even if he lacked proof or anything scientific about what he felt.

This did not slacken the concern at hand. He crouched by Skulls and set her head to rest atop his bent leg so it would be her pillow. One of his hands tried to thread through the mess of hot reds and cold brown blood to sooth whatever of her he could. Both had been like dolls left on the playground, tampered with by the bullies and now their owners come to make sense of what happened and why.

The certainty though was something else was amiss with Chase. He wouldn't have known it if not for the healer's reaction.

Brandon's voice is like a knife to the air and he looks at him and gives a strained smile, "Hope, brother, I do not think anyone here will let her die easily."

To which the healer looked at them, momentarily, with the strength of her eyes that said they were foolish to think she was just some doormat.

She felt herself being snatched from the darkness to another place. And with the way that masculine hand grabbed her wrist, it was a place she would not want to be of her own free will. She knew who he was. But he wasn?t him anymore. His force was powerful. She brought her other arm to the hand that clamped down on her wrist, trying desperately to pry it off. She begged it now to stop, as panic and fear filled her. She didn?t want to go where he was taking her. And it wasn?t heaven. She knew that for sure. His eyes were empty. The face was a shell.

Travis..! She exclaimed into an echoey space. And it was then that his body, his face, smiled.

--

Slowly, Chase?s head came to slowly turn from where it was turned to the opposite way, which was facing the healer. The healer?s eyes narrowed, and came closer to her chest. Finally, it rested on her heart. The woman?s eyes closed in concentration. A long moment of silence went by. Chase was still, eyes opened and upon the healer?s direction. More of an incomprehensive language was murmured. It was a battle between the healer, and Chase?s spirit. The case was kept simple. It was the only way.

As a pause was kept between the murmurs of another language, a furious push came to her chest. It made her body spasm as if a defibrillator had charged her chest. The eyes remained open and vacant.

Another push, and her body spasmed. The healer yelled at the form, as if to taunt it. And then, another push. The wounds could wait. Nothing would heal with that wicked force hogging all the juice. Her soul was kept in limbo, and her life was in the balance.

Now farther from the fire, the other chairs and nearby dining room table was shoved across the floor. It made a deafening series of screeches and scrapes across the floor. Now on a clear plane of flooring, the healer stood up and darted for the form. Brandon kept charging, and being deflected. After his final try, the body turned her head to face Brandon that was now on the ground. Suddenly, there was depth in her eyes. The slitted pupils flexed, but stayed enlarged.

A smile. It came to rot upon her face. Chase wasn?t smiling at Brandon. Something else was. Something other than the ethereal being she housed since birth. Something malicious. Something that did not like Brandon at all. The barrier was meant for him.

The learned healer came through whatever barrier as if there wasn?t one, coming to her knees hurriedly. She noticed the smile, then looked toward Brandon. In urgency, the woman turned toward the Gypsy?s body. Her skull was still turned, smiling at Brandon?s frustration, his anguish.

?That?s him? I?m not impressed.? There was a sudden difference in accent, and a deepening of her voice. It sounded more like a man than the melodic tone she usually took. The healer came to bring her hand on her chest again, making the same small spasm again. This time, the hateful smile on her face faded to one of abandonment. It was vacant again. Then those eyes slowly closed.

--

?Stop it! Let me go..! Travis, let me go!? Her voice was echoey, and soft. The forces around them grew fast, and wind whizzed past them. She was plunging. She suddenly felt smothered, the hand that sought to pry his hand away in futility rushing to her neck. Her airway became blocked.

?You?re with me now. Isn?t that where you wanted to be, Rose??

She was at an impass. It was, but.. It wasn?t right. A long pause passed as she was flung deeper and deeper. She began to hear a sinking sound.

Like a vicious heart-stopping tidal wave crashing over her and sucking her in, darkness became blinding and bright. The orange wiggle worms of the fire blurred, than solidified into vision. The touch felt like a frying pan branding her. Pupils thinned into slits as she frantically looked at the source of who was causing her pain.

She was confused. Very, very confused. And scared. Not to mention in serious pain. The frenzy had her hysterical. As hysterical as she could be in her blood-deficient state.

"W-what now? What's all this?" She grew a bit more excitable at the fact that she didn't recognize her surroundings. Or the strange woman above her.

"Who the hell are you? Who is she?!" She was growing frantic, and the hand connected to her chest did not help the situation any. She began to thrash a little, both at the burning at her arm from Skull, and at the stranger with a firm hand on her chest. Since she was weak, she was easily kept down on the ground. It was then that she looked to her friend, the ex-dealer with a look of pleading. Her breathing had turned into near hyperventilating, as she looked solidly at Skull's with agony laced into her fear.

"Skulls.. Scully." She swallowed away the blood that pooled in her cotton-roofed mouth, before she continued. "Please Scully.. Don't let him take me. I don't want to go back there.. I.. I can't do it. It's Travi-"

Time was up. She had become rigid and still again, eyes freezing in wideness of horror. The last moment of herself remained on her face, but still. Like a photograph. The pupils widened into their near black state, and still looked at her. It was someone else. Chase wasn't looking at her anymore.

"Scully. I remember you.." His accent was thick. Australian. And the voice was deeper, and that of a man. "You sold good bud. Sorry you can't play with Rose anymore.. She's coming with me. I'll tell her you said hello."

The face contorted with exertions. Suddenly, the healer came to create another spasm in her chest, making her jump a bit in recoil. Pain and gags of blood had her choke. Between the false emotions on her stolen face were the gurgling and guttural sounds of a body slowly dying. But at the name, Chase?s face was forced to form a grin. A grin that was very dashing, and masculine.

?Long time no see.. You don?t look so good.?

A sickly, weak laugh came out of her throat, mixed with coughs. A sudden shiver made her body writhe and squirm. Her legs kicked at the ground, and slid along the floorboards.

And as Scully began to pray, the wicked smile grew broader. A weak, wan laugh came of her throat as she continued. It was incomplete, and shoddily executed. And even if it were done in exceptional form, it wasn?t that simple. There were far more steps needed than just a few holy words. The unbroken arm began to reach toward Scully, as the laugh continued. It was quiet, so that Scully could say the prayer without hindrance. It was mockingly done, as her neck twisted and rolled against the floor.

Rudely, as she chanted, her hand was grabbed. Cutting off the prayer, her hand squeezed back with incredible pressure.

?That?s not very nice, Scully. Calling a friend a demon.. ? As he softly chided her, a sizzling sound came from their joined hands. ?You?re not doing it right!? That was said with a near feral anger.

Chase?s body thrashed violently, causing random limbs to stiffen unnaturally with the anger expressed by the one dwelling within.
?Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name!? A remarkably loud scream came from her voice, along with fierce twitch that was near mechanical in ferocity. The healer cried out in her own language, a hand coming to thrust energies down to settle the unruly form.

Between the shocks of energy, and the violent seizure-like quakes of her body, she would continue reciting. ?Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil!!!!!?

Then, upon completion of the most well known prayer in Christianity, the hand that held hers was thrown away. Small gray ribbons danced off and up into the air from her released hand. Laughter rattled from her voice that was more masculine. Deep, grainy, and with a faint sound of ghastly properties. The healer came to strike her across the face, and resume her own set of healing chants. Soon, there wouldn?t be much more that could be done. A human body can only take so much.

The strike was rewarded with more laughter. As the black-eyed shell of a face looked back to Scully.

?Our wedding was supposed to be done by a Priest. I was a Catholic, more god-loving than you.. Foul tweeker.?

She barked this, and unfitting laughter came after.

?Yes, give me your crosses. Rose is wearing a few, don?t you see? I gave her one of them..? The laughs subsided, glancing down at her neck full of charms and trinkets.

?If you can find it, she still wears it. Rose will be in good hands, I promise. I gave for her, and she will give herself for me. If she loves me, and she does.? Another all-knowing, confident chuckle came from her charred voice.

?If she loves me, she will come with me. And together we will stay. As God--as we both-- intended.? He failed to mention the fact that he was given power from an enemy of hers. And that once her soul was taken, that enemy would take control of the body and the avatar it housed. That was irrelevant. He cared not for any of these things. Only for her.

?Amen, Scully. Say it, for me.? He mocked. That dashing smile was there, as if he had won. He hadn?t.

She felt the dark tides become aggressive around her. Like the once docile waters of black had solidified and came to host an earthquake.

Evacuation was commencing. The string of threads was beginning to fray and disengage. And yet, as horror should have come and made her fear, she did not. Instead, she closed her eyes. Even with them closed, there was no difference in the light. But the shaking grew greater.

Her arms spread slightly at her sides, and she brought her inner light above. She knew how to move it. How she learned, she did not know. It was like moving a leg up to kick. In that manner, she too controlled her own personal light. It was like a lone Christmas light. It was the only strong portion remaining. She accepted it. It was time to summon reinforcements. Even if it meant a heavy deal after the fact, she was not to be damned. Not like this. And the Two could at least agree that continuance was a mutual desire. And for that want, they could join. They were mixed a little, but this called for a little more of integration. More would be needed. And it was needed now, at that moment.

?Roomy, now?s your time. Come out and play with us, won?t you? You always have so much fun when you come out. There?s somebody here that wants to see you. An old friend.?

The form behind her gave her an incredulous look.

?You cannot.. It is too late to.. to call Her. She cannot help you.? The lie was red, and he grew more anxious. This was not according to plan, and his fright made her grin.

?You don?t know Her very well, do you?? Come on. Come on, whatever you are! Come out..

And like a supernova of blessings and destruction, white cracks came to etch themselves in the dimension that the agent had condemned them to.

?This is twice I have saved you tonight.?

---

And with a roaring scream, she was breathing heavily as if coming up for air after being thousands of feet below sea level. Sobs mixed with the obvious wheezes that came of such injuries.

The healer showed a wide-eyed owlish gaze to the girl below her, as the breathing alarmingly came to a decreasing plunge. Placed back where she belonged, she was with all that was with her form. This was the stab wound, and the broken arm. That pain came flooding back, and everything suddenly was not so keen to function after her abuse of such activity in her fragile state. Her form loosened and became limp on the ground, instead of the stiff stone-like posture she had before.

?Just.. work, woman. Hurry.. Feelin? sleepy?? She did not have much time. She?d wasted so much during her stunts of the moments before. She had little to no time to lose. She felt her eyes closing, eyelids weighing metric tons per millimeter.

?What a sucky healer.. Ain?t workin? worth a pence. How?m I ?STILL- hurtin? when y?been here for so long?? Her sudden criticisms of the healer had the healer strike her across the face again. She spat away more blood, having her look up with incredulity.

?The hell, woman!? Get to work! Fix me.. What was that for?? It had her scoff, and shakes her head. ?Un-bloody-believable. Treatin? me like a pack mule..?

Her neck would arch from one side to the other as the healer worked. A twitch here, a sigh there, and small protests of caught breaths in small dashes. Patience had her eyes opened, looking up and around. She didn?t see anyone, save for Scully nearby. And even then, she still felt disoriented. The strike across the face, she ventured, wouldn?t be healed.

It felt like two school buses had run over her and reversed. It took more pain to take the original pain away. That was a cruddy deal, but a deal she didn?t make. Life was taken a little more before sinking into her. Bare minimums, but that was more than before. She took the primitive healing process like a champ.

Her arm was worked on, giving her the most trouble. The clean break had moved during her forced absence that was catastrophic. Majestic hands moved, adjusted, and mended. Her body would have to pick up where the healer left off. The glow was nourishing on its own. She felt a little saved by it. Whether it was just pretty lights or not didn?t matter. She again came to look directly at Scully, a bit unsure of what to say.

That was a rare thing for someone like Chase. What kept her quiet was the fact that she had been somewhere else for such a long time. It felt like she was in that darkness for days. But it had only been under an hour. It was something she could never talk about. Something nobody would ever understand. It was alienating.

Blood was in flakey tectonics upon usually flawless skin. Pretty pictures of ink and color were scratched, scraped, and distorted. But with moments passing by, life returned to the once near-lifeless woman. She was coming back to life. A little went a long way with how far gone she had been. Vital minutes were used wisely, and the rest was simply the aftermath. The awkward conversations, the questions, the suspicion. She had a lot of answers to give that she didn?t have herself. That was always her problem.

Then, she was snapped out of her jaw-locked gaze, and looked over in Shane?s direction. Wherever his voice came from is where she looked. ?Yeah?? It was simple, and she assumed they were still unsure if she was at the steering wheel.

She didn?t know anything that she had done, because she didn?t do it.

Something else did. Without the chilling part of the tale, it was hard to connect with the stillness of those around her. They seemed to all be recovering from disbelief.

It seemed everyone around her was talking without speaking. All had their own panicked arrays of questions. It was in their eyes, in their parted mouths. In their slackened jaws. But Shane was given the twin spotlights of her volcanic eyes.

The Irishman was known for his humor. His laughter. The way his voice rolled rough in the mornings and the whiskey sour he'd drink at night and on lunch breaks. He was known for his spades of dark auburn hair. His dimples.

He was not known for the soft, vulnerable sounding voice that left his lips when he spoke. So saturated his voice with sympathy that it was like the quiver sound before a cry.

"Oh... Chase."

Skulls got up to take care of herself. He thought if anyone was well enough to throw up, well, it would set his heart to ease. So he went to Chase and smoothed back some of her hair and looked over the healing the woman hand done. Brandon's home was a wreck.

"Here," and he went to her and carefully moved to either help her to her feet, if she would stand, or just carry her threshold style to the bed. He wanted to collect the debris that were like puzzle pieces wildly thrown in all directions. Wanted to collect them and put them up in the right place. Where wood had splintered up and blood spilt and dyed the floor. It was like an at-home labor that went terribly wrong. What'd be born, though?

He tried to be as tender as he could about moving her. But she needed to be somewhere than on the mess of the floor. He suddenly became more aware of raspy breathing that sounded like it was hovering over his right shoulder.

"Young man," said the healer, whose sticky hands spread in the air, "there is a great debt to me on this day."

Shane's eyes are steady and cold on her, like the collection of her debt was an insult, "Yea, I know."

"I think you also know," she fixed the ends of her sleeves and pushed back the veins of her brown hair behind an ear, "that my interest isn't money."

"I've know that for some time."

"Who is it," she said, her eyes squinting as she looked between the four of them, "that owes me for this night?" She said it she was asking for the person who desired to be disciplined.

Brandon remained crouched, paralyzed in the spot he had landed. Blue eyes rounded as he watched, helplessly, as his girl struggled with what seemed like demonic possession. As the foreign voice spilled from her lips, Brandon's head shook in disbelief. '

"Let her go!" But for all of his yelling, there was truly nothing the man could do but sit and watch as the woman he loved thrashed and then lay still. Terribly still.

Vision of that first pheromone filled kiss, their first date, holding hands, their first fight all flashed before his eyes. He just knew that this was it, he was losing his girl. He dared not move, not even to bat an eyelash, for fear that the stillness of the room would shatter like glass and the shards of reality would lay at his feet.

"Oh, Chase.." His voice echoed that of his best friend. It was the sound of a man already beginning to mourn.

And then that gasp of air. Brandon never thought he ever heard such a sweet sound. Never had he seen anything so beautiful in his life as her chest heaved and her back arched. But terror still filled him. He couldn't be sure that it was Chase within the shell of flesh and bone. That is, until her eyes opened.

Chase had returned.

Still, he did not move. He wasn't sure that he could reach her, touch her. Whatever it was that had kept him from her was a strong, invisible shield that had bruised his abused shoulder trying to get through.

He watched her crawl, his own head tilting to the side and his hands reached out. It wasn't until she was on her feet and leaning against Shane that he finally moved. Lurching forward, stumbling to his feet. His arm snaked around her bloodied and aching waist, a counterbalance to Shane's own arm that held her up.

"Chase.." He whispered, staring down at her. He could not move another inch, until he knew for certain, his girl was there.

It had been a few hours since most of the relief had settled in. Scully had moved to a window and was staring out. She had done that for a few hours at least. Shock was her mindset, shocked that they had found her, shock at the fact that Chase had taken the worse of what should have been her punishment, and shock for the fact that they knew she still had the book.

Her pink hair was still matted with dried blood as well as a bit of her face. At the moment the cool glass felt good against her sore forehead, soothing her more than it should have. Somehow she had gotten careless, stupid, and wreck less. She just couldn't remember where.

Her hands still hurt. More questions were being asked mentally than verbally and she knew she'd never let them take that jump out of her mouth. For now, despite the several check ups from Shane, she kept to herself. She was still close enough, but the distance was enough for her not to feel like she was not in the way.

Brandon had checked on Chase and was returning to tidy up the living room as best he could when he passed Skulls. At first, it seemed he was going to walk on past her, but two steps away, he paused. Turning slowly, he held out his hand. "I"m Brandon. Are you going to be alright?" He had seen that haunted, fearful, and faraway look before. The girl was a friend of Chase's. That made her family.

Sullen, golden eyes fell to his hand before returning to his face. Still shaken a bit, Scully reached out her own hand and took his, but she was only able to give his hand a flimsy squeeze. Her mono-tone voice only carried a few feet away, it was a good thing he was close enough to hear her," I'm... I'm not sure." What if what happened to Chase had happened to the heroes Brandon and Shane? It was another question that sent horror rippling through her. There was one more moments glance to Chase, Shane, and then out of the window. The reminder that this was her fault would dwindle as long as she stayed there.

He saw her look over at Chase, and he turned to follow her gaze. "She's resting now. Why don't we grab a beer from the kitchen. I've got some questions." He spoke quietly, trying to be as unassuming as possible. But when it came down to it, his baby had been hurt and badly. Somebody was going to pay.

She knew this had been coming. Her throat was suddenly dry, eager for the drink that was offered. All she could muster was a weak nod. Her hands began to tremble. Was there a way that she could answer his questions and keep him from danger? No. She knew that answer before the question had been fully asked.

Slowly she uncoiled from her self-conservative ball to descend her perch next to the window. She stood on shaky ground, well more or less shaky feet, and then nodded to Brandon once more. A weak breath slowly filled her lungs, but even near the end she felt as if she couldn't breathe.

Brandon simply watched, impassively, as she stood up. "I'm not going to bite you." He grinned then and turned to walk towards the kitchen. "Really, I just want to know what happened and why. Chase was hurt badly and I intend to make sure that whoever did this pays for it. "

She followed silently, both golden eyes turning on Chase again when she stopped to check on her. At least she was alright," I'm not sure how well I can explain this.." She frowned for a moment when they stepped into the kitchen," But I suppose I could do my best."

Brandon reached into the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers. Offering her a bottle, he made a gesture to the table. "Well, take your time, but tell me everything you know about what happened. Shane's my brother and he seems to have taken a liking to you. Chase is my girl, and you're her friend. So consider yourself at home. "

Home... People were always making a home for her. Hell, they were hanging that fact over her head almost constantly. Her head had lowered a bit, but she didn't argue with that urge to sit down at the table. She buried her head in her hands before she started," I've been homeless for roughly ten years now. Since I was thirteen. The pimps like it when they catch em young." She gulped a bit.

When Brandon settled down onto the chair opposite of her, he popped open the beer and took a swig. Leaning forward, he placed the bottle onto the tabletop and began slowly spinning it between his fingers. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. But to hear her start with her own history, it gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "You're how old now?"

"Twenty three, almost four." She waved a hand as if it didn't matter," I ran away from an abusive home. Eventually I thought I was fortunate to be taken in by an old woman named Alista. She was good hearted and kind until I was of age. In her eyes that was thirteen." Her inked fingers coiled around one of the beer bottle and pulled it to her lips. After a moment she stated," I was sold to the first pimp she could find... Err... Well he adopted me. Which ever way you want to look at it. I prefer the latter."

Brandon's eyes closed and he brought his hands to his temples to massage. Already, he was getting a headache behind his eyes. "Son of a bitch took a thirteen year old girl and..." he knew he was going to be sick. Slowly he shook his head and gulped the bile back down into his stomach. It was a forceful action that made a soft sound in the kitchen.

"Sold me on the streets." She finished his words, her own mind racing on the past. Her body shifted on the stool and she sighed," I remember when I was sixteen and I switched from being a common prostitute with a pimp to a dealer, a runner, a druggie." She frowned, wondering just what Chase had told Brandon.

He waved his hand, not really wanting to hear what his mind was already picturing. "I'm going to be sick." The beer was pushed away and he leaned back in his chair. "Bastards." He whispered but urged her to continue.

"But with selling came new resposibilities. Soon enough my pimp thought I was broken enough to be trusted. At twenty one I was given their black book." She paused to think of how to word it," This black book showed how deep the organization went. Hell, he was more organized with the mafia." Scully snorted, sick herself," I was in to deep with the drugs by then." Her fingers were held up, the inked marks on them being shown off," One for coke, dope, hero, and acid." Shame suddenly took her over again," I've only done three of those... And eventually my head cleared."

Brandon had been raised in a clean, healthy environment. The stuff Skulls was telling him he only saw on television. Being the Eagle Scout that he was, he gave Skulls a sympathetic look. that urged to finish her story. He wouldn't interrupt at all.

"I realized I had the key to my salvation right in my hands." She smiled to him, but it was a weak smile," Their black book." After a moments pause, she found herself shaking again," I was able to inform a few people what was coming, save a few people from a fate as bad as death, hell even worse, but then they figured out." Her heart was racing, practically raging from her chest. She was going to be pale and green at this rate," I was surprised that one repaid the favor when they found out I had been marked for my miss use of the book." Golden eyes were looking at her feet," I was twenty two years old and already marked for death."

"And you still have the book." he sighed, fingers tented over blue eyes, rubbing. "And that's why you and Chase were attacked." He brought his hand down and sighed heavily. "The attack on Chase wasn't random and just because she was with you, was it?"

Skulls could feel the nag in her throat again. The one that would surely jerk her to tears. Her breath became hard to take in and her face grew pale. Both her eyes had locked on Brandon almost as if he wasn't but a part of the kitchen. Once more the mono-toned guilt was in her voice," No... If it was random, she wouldn't have been in the state she was. They would have just gone for me and passed.." The tears were suddenly spilling free despite her attempts to control them," Passed by her."

Brandon ingested the information and slowly closed his eyes. A cleansing breath was taken in with his chest rising and slowly blown out. Chase hadn't told him a great deal about her past, but he'd guessed enough that drugs and alcohol were a part of it. But thirteen year old prostitutes that became suppliers by the time they were twenty-one was more than he'd expected. It was a lot to take in. Part of him wanted to comfort the little girl across the table from him. Part of him wanted to rush to Chase's side and hold her tightly. A question burned behind his eyes and lips. "Who were they?"

"Old friends......." But the way she said it, it was with a bitter and vicous tone on her face. Her eyes narrowed on her beer. Suddenly a surge of revenge tore through her, to the point where her fingers coiled in fists. A sharp breath was pulled in," They called her Rockstar so I would assume that it was Chet, Marcus, Wayne, and Phillip."

He grabbed his bottle, in preparation for her to strike the table. Even if the physical blow did not come, he emotional one did. Chase's past was coming back to haunt her. "I don't know who those men are. But I will. Soon enough." He sat back then and took a swig of beer. "Show me the book."

She thought for a moment, faultered, and a weak breath was pulled in," Did any of you by chance grab anything before you left the alley... My things? Anything?" She knew she hadn't.

"No." he sighed and shook his head. "You and Chase were in pools of blood. All I could think of was getting you two the hell out of there." A hand ran through his short, dark hair. "I'm going to g check up on her." Sttanding, he moved away from the table and towards the master bedroom.

"Damn..." Scully rose up, her feet starting to move out of the kitchen. She had to get to that bible before they did. Her fingers clasped at one of the jackets near to her. Step after step moved her rather quickly towards the door to the outside world.

Brandon kissed Chase's forehead then left the room, quietly closing the door. He saw Skulls trying to make an escape. "Where are you going?"

"I have to get that book before they get it. If they get it, they won't know they have it.." She drew in a deep breath, frantically gasping for breath. Horror, pure horror," I can't let them do that to Shane."

"They're not going to do anything as long as they're healing up from the beating that they took from my shovel." he moved to the door and closed it before her. "Besides, there's strength in numbers. You're not going alone. Shane and I will go with you."

"We have to move fast. We just have to." She swallowed weakly. Her eyes were pleading with himto understand," I have to get to that book before they do or it will be lost for good. They will always hunt me and those I love."

"If they have the book, why would they come after you?" He shook his head and kept his hand firmly on the door. "No, we'll wait to see what Shane has to say about all of this. Sorry, but you're not going anywhere."

"Damn it! You don't get it! They won't know they have the book!" She started to pace, even panic. Her eyes snapped this way and that way. She wanted to get out, she had to get out, but how? Skulls didn't want to put Shane or Brandon in danger, but Brandon was giving her no choice.

"Like I said, strength in numbers. And you're not very strong right now. Time, wait. They won't know what they're looking for, either. Sit down and be quiet. We'll come up with a plan, together. The four of us will put our heads together. Until then, you stay in place, missy."

Brandon was given a sharp look, a very sharp look. Her feet pushed forwards into the kitchen again. This time she did hit something, but it was the fridge. She slammed it into the side of it before sliding down.

"Hey!" he stepped into the kitchen and frowned. "What'd that appliance do to you? I paid good money for that." he nodded and touched the side of the fridge, as if caressing it. He was going for humor here and hoped that he would at least illicit a smile.

The humor was lost by her. By now she had slid down, hugging at her knees," They will take everything that was lost in that alley... everything. I will have nothing to barter with to keep any of you safe." Her head shook up at Brandon," All I need is one thing. Just one thing."

The knock on the door was loud, like when the police do it. Outside he cussed softly to himself at the cold, burying his hands in his jacket pockets and hugging it closer to himself. The idea that it had ever felt nice enough to go shirtless was just beyond him. Winter made his cheeks glow-- he thought it made him look like a rough coal minor on account that it was sort of ruddy and ran down his cheeks instead of coupling to the curve. Blue eyes blistered in the cold.

Brandon sighed in exasperation and he left the kitchen. "Don't go anywhere." He called out over his shoulder and continued to the door. "Hang on to your hat, I'm coming!" And suddenly the door was thrown open.

"Hey," Shane gave him an upnod and then looked back over his shoulder, "I went and checked the property lines and all that. The area is secure, I don't think anyone is gonna come this way." He sniffed and stomped his feet to warm them up a bit, "I woulda just walked in but the door was locked." *

'Stay here.' A sour expression curled up on her lips, but never the less she stayed put. Her head leaned back against the fridge and she muttered up to it," Sorry Fridge, didn't mean to show you some tough love..."

"Good." he stepped back and turned towards the kitchen. "Your girl tried to make an escape. Trying to convince her that going back to where the attack happened, alone, is a bad idea." He moved towards the kitchen then. "What's your girl's name again?"
"Uh, yeah, it's a bad idea," he said with dark and sharp tones, a disappointment like a curse from him. Following Brandon he said, more softly and absentmindedly, "Scully. Or Skulls." He rubbed his hands together. He face already felt like it was thawing since he stepped in. When he saw Skully he sighed heavily, "Why would you go and do that?"

'He better not call me squeaker.' She muttered under her breath. Her fingers were massaging at her temples, a weak sigh of relief when she heard Shane use the other two. Her eyes lifed on Shane," I have to get it before they do." It was the only answer she could give," I have to get it before they do or it will never stop." Okay, maybe she could add that.

Brandon stepped around Shane and Skulls to grab more beer from the fridge. He settled the bottles down onto the table before taking a seat. "Ok guys. time to make a plan." he glanced at them, expecting them to take seats as well.

"Skulls, wait," and he wrapped an arm around her, looking at Brandon and giving a strict nod of agreement, "Yea, that sounds more like it. Come on," he encouraged Skulls to join them. Kissed her forehead and took a seat, nudging the chair next to him out some.

A small sigh of defeat was given the moment Shane's arms were around her. It was so easy to forget and feel safe with him around. Yet, her mind was racing, she knew without the book it was going to be hard to keep Shane safe from all of this. Her eyes turned up to his after the kiss and she nodded. Eventually she was sitting next to him and fumbling with the beer bottle she had been drinking from.

"Now, the way I see it." he spoke up once both of them were at the table. "The girls go no where alone. Even if they're together, we need to keep an eye on them, right, bro?" He leaned back and took a swig of beer from the bottle.

"Agreed. Especially until we sort this business out. It's just less likely that there will be any trouble if you have someone with you." he wet his lips and scratched the back of his head, "Not what is this thing we have to get, anyway?" Shane wasn't aware that anything had been lost expect for blood.

"A organized crime black book." Hopfully, Skulls had said enough for Shane. She glanced towards Brandon, hoping he wouldn't tell Shane everything that she had said to him, it was her place to do that. Some of it he already knew. She quickly took a few gulps of her beer.

Brandon figured that Shane already knew what he knew so didn't bother to go into details. "I think we should get her all of her stuff. She can hang out here for a few days until she's one hundred percent. I'd feel better about it and I know Chase would feel better with everybody around her that loves her." He glanced towards the master bedroom's door. He was worried about his girl. Slowly he turned and pinned his gaze onto the both of them. "Once we have the book back, you go through it and you pull the names of the bastards that did this to you and Chase. I'll take care of them."

"If they know we're here, they sure aren't acting like it," he said in reference to his sweep about the boundaries of the property. It was clean Shane's eyes held the ghost of confusion as they brought him to the present point. Eyebrows lowered and then relaxed at the mention of dear Chase, for who he smiled slightly at the thought of. He could forget, for a moment that she wasn't so well and was instead a creature all of them could love. The book. Shane wet his lips and nodded, "What are we going to do with the book after that? Trash it or what?"

She had a feeling Chase would not let Brandon do as he was thinking. She chewed on her bottom lip a bit, both confused and worried. How in the world had two decent men showed themselves in this world and one of them take an interest in her? Especially with what she had done in her life. Her eyes turned to Shane," I've already made it unrecognizable to them, they wouldn't know what they had even if they held it in their hands. But we can't trash it. I was thinking of putting it away for now." She bit her lip a bit," Giving it to the priest I confessed to."

Brandon sat back and folded his arms across his chest. "Tell him, Skully. Tell him what you told me you were intending to do with that book." He glanced over at Shane and before she could respond, he shook his his head. "She intends to use the book to shield you from the bastards that attacked her and Chase. As if she could give it to them and they'd leave her and you alone." His hands went to the edge of the table then. "If this book is that important to them, then you've seen too much and they'll still come after you.. We need to put these people down."

"What?" he had bitten into Skully's story but Brandon's words brought his head swinging back to her and that gaze, wide eyed and wanting to know with hands frozen in the air from what he had said before. Brandon spoke though. Eyes jumped to him. A double blink at the story and he sighed, "That's not how those sort of people work." and he looked at Skulls with a nod of agreement to what Brandon had been working, "Once they have the book... aren't you a problem that they could just get rid of? You gotta think about it not like a regular person, but an animal. That's what they are."

Both eyes were wide when Brandon flat out gave up what she had planed to do. It wasn't fair! She drew in a breath to calm her anger. The whole ordeal had her agrivated. She was chewing on her bottom lip weakly. A small gulp came from her, Shane's words making her whimper out," I don't want them to hurt you Shane. I don't want them to hurt you." She frowned weakly," You saw what they did to Chase. What if it was you or him? It's bad enough that my best friend was almost killed out there." She was going to fight tooth and nail to defend herself," I couldn't bear that if you got hurt because of me."

"Nothing's going to happen to Shane." he nodded, taking a deep breath and blowing it out. They caught you unawares and the cowards picked on little girls. If you haven't noticed, we're not so little and we're not girls." He leaned forward to place a comforting hand on Skull's shoulder. "And I know what you can do with that book, once we get it back."

"Well, we need a more active approach than just pacifying the people that want to hurt you. That's not the... best defensive plan." he reached over to take Skull's hand to comfort her. She seemed to quiver a bit under the stress, which was understandable, considering. He wet his lips again like he did when he was extremely nervous and said, "We need to let them know that they don't want to fuck with us. That dealing with us is the last thing that they want to do."

A weakened sigh of defeat came, her head lowering in the process. She squeezed at his hand tightly, small sobs falling from her lips," Can we just... just get the book before they do? Every moment we waste time..." Though she knew they weren't even going to let her leave.

He'd never heard Shane use profanity before and it shocked him enough to give Shane a curious look. But then tears started. Female blackmail, in his mind. And guys like Brandon and Shane, good to the bone, always fell for it. "We can go now, if you'd like. There's three of us and my valet has come from the penthouse to watch over Chase. Sound like a plan to you two?"

"Got it. We got enough light to give the ground a good going over?" and he was the first to get to his feet, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket once more, "Scully, do you have any idea where it was last? Like... the docks or before that or what?"

?Before?.? It was like the pit of her stomach gave out. Her eyes fixed on Shane, horror mingling with absolute shock,? I had it in my hands right when they first hit me.? Scully could still remember the way they hit, as if they hadn?t cared at all. Instinctually a hand lifted to her cheek to fight back the sting of memory. They had to get that book back.


(Live RP between Shane, Brandon, and Scully!)