[Fic] Hold the Line

Title: Hold the Line
Fandom: The Covenant
Characters: Pogue, Caleb
Word Count: 1,500
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Pogue takes care of Caleb like a good lieutenant and a good friend. Sequel to Wrack and Ruin. Deals with adult themes and issues. Written for pyroblaze18's prompt.

"We will walk -- on the land
We will drink -- from the stream
We will breath -- of the air
We will live -- hold the line
Hold the line"
--Peter Gabriel

It was seven days later, and Caleb still hadn't said a word about what happened. To say that Pogue was scared might be understating things a bit.

Everyone knew something was wrong. He had shut Sarah out completely, leading to hysterics from both girls and a great deal of time spent comforting them, which was time he wasn't spent helping Caleb. Back and forth, back and forth. In the end Kate had to push him off to Caleb, after they had gotten out of the hospital and she had been reassured that her boyfriend, at least, was not much worse for the wear. She would take care of Sarah, she'd said. He would get to take care of Caleb.

If Caleb would let himself be taken care of.

Reid, Pogue, and Tyler took turns shadowing him everywhere he went. When they weren't keeping an eye on him his mother was, finally pulling out of her shell when she realized her son was in a more insidious danger than she could protect him from. They met in Pogue's dorm room, the three boys and Kate when she could get away from Sarah, pacing up and down and trying to figure out how to help him. Pogue still wouldn't tell them in words what had happened, but they knew it was bad.

How bad, even Pogue didn't know. But he'd seen what was left. The remains of cloth and the blood and sweat and he knew the possibilities. Hadn't had it happen to himself, yet, but there were people who'd said it was only a matter of time. Of course, these were people who didn't know about power. But when it was Chase it was a level playing field, they both had power.

It frightened him to think about it. Terrified him, to think about what Caleb would be like now, how he would deal with it. And he still didn't know what to do.



The wind was cold on the Marblehead cliffs, even with the leather jacket and leather-covered jeans. He kept his hands in his pockets and his eyes on Caleb's back, as though if he took his eyes off him for a moment the other boy would go leaping off the cliff and he would never see him again.

The idea made him close his eyes and swallow back the sobs or screams. One of the two. Life had been so up and down. He'd fought back more upset in the past week than he'd had in the months following Chase's first attack.

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[Cookie] (Untitled) A Pen Bryton mystery

Title: Untitled
Setting: Penelope Bryton mysteries
Characters: Pen Bryton
Word Count: ~350

Morgues were always ten degrees colder than the rest of the building, at least. I used to think that morgue techs should be issued lab coats made out of white wool or something. I wanted my jacket when I walked in. Mostly because of the chill.

"I told you, I'll have the cause of death when… oh."

"Hi." I smiled. "I'm not looking for a cause of death. Not yet, I have a missing person I'm checking on. Detective…" I had to look at the business card. "Scott Bradley said that you might have a Jane Doe that matches my girl?"

He took a look at the photo I held out for him and before he could open his mouth his face said it all. Even if he wasn't sure he thought it was the missing girl.

"We do have a Jane Doe, came in this morning, she looks a lot like your missing girl."

That wasn't the answer I wanted to hear, in two ways. "A lot like?" I watched him go over to a drawer, check the number, and slide out the body.

There's a trick to checking the identity of a body. First of all, make sure it's no one you know. Doing a body identification of someone you know, well. There's nothing like it, and it's not something you can ever be prepared for. If it's someone you don't know, if you're in the line of work where you have to run around with a photograph and a strong stomach, don't breathe. Take as shallow breaths as you can and concentrate on the physical.

A human body is made up of parts. Bones, skin, teeth, hair, eyes, all parts of a whole that makes a person when you add in a personality, a soul. Take away the soul and it's just parts again, and if you can match the parts in the right order to the picture or information that you have, then you win. If you try to put the soul in and match it up with an empty place where the soul was, you lose.

[Fic] Reconstruction

Title: Reconstruction
Fandom: N/A
Word Count: 1,000
Rating: PG
Summary: What happens when it gets to whatever you do, don't panic. Written for insafemode's prompt. Probably cross-posted to pawprintletters eventually.

The water was turned as hot as it would go. Both palms to the tile, head bowed, hair down around her face. She could feel it along the back of her spine, another inch. An inch maybe every six months. The steam covered the mirror and kept her from hating herself any more than she already did. It didn't help the heat over her eyes like a thin film.

She wanted to cry but she couldn't. Too rational for that.

From crash to the resurrection, and then burning up again. It was like a sugar high rollercoaster except without the tartness in her mouth or the powder along her gums. She peeled her lip raw, watched it bleed, and kissed the back of her hand. Take that, you lingering goth tendencies.

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