Mornings are quiet. He likes mornings. He likes the quiet in mornings because he's quiet more lately, quiet in a way he doesn't think he ever has been. It's a cliché, to think of calm after storms, but that's still what he finds himself thinking of, when he thinks about it at all ( Read more... )

Abby hated hurricanes. She hated hurricanes like she hated scary ex-boyfriends, double-crossing Mossad agents, and her friends or family getting hurt. She would blame it on Katrina or the hurricane they'd had on the island a couple years ago, but it wasn't just those specific events. She just disliked the feeling of not being able to do anything ( Read more... )

Dated September 9, 2010:
Mike wakes up back in the Real World. It takes more than one try--and a truly horrible mistake--but with Tom and Neil's help, he finally confronts what he left behind there.

[ HERE | Complete | PG-13]Afterward, Neil finds Mike and, though they're home and the loop is over, that one horrible mistake rears its head once more ( Read more... )

It's been a long fucking day ( Read more... )

Never before in his entire time on the island had Lennox been hit with so many disappearances at once. He was depressed as all hell, lonely, and pretty damn angry at the whole situation, but he hadn't talked about it much. There wasn't much to say and not many people left to even say it to, which was why he was sitting on the beach surrounded by ( Read more... )

In the night, well after the dinner rush, The Winchester is empty and quiet, save for the music playing from the radio -- just a few random Cure and Siouxsie albums I picked out earlier to go on after Gideon's show -- echoes of it fading out the open doors and into the night. While anyone with a radio can hear it, I've put it on for me. It fills ( Read more... )

Three years old. If he had been told it three years ago, he would have looked at the wrinkled little things in front of him and laughed in disbelief. Things so small couldn't grow into people, surely ( Read more... )

Dated July 8, 2010:

"There's nothing to deal with, Tom. It's over and done with. I mean, I dunno what the fuck you think is going on here, but there's no hidden fuckin' meanings, I'm not havin' a fucking breakdown. And for the fucking record, there are plenty of people that do this sorta shit -- I mean, there's a goddamn amateur boxing ring out ( Read more... )

The rain, at least, had become a familiar constant. Everything else might be shaky, sliding into the mud, but the rain came and kept on coming and Tom let it bead up and roll off him. There wasn’t really anything else he could do ( Read more... )

It's quiet. A lull in all the usual chaos in the Compound. People hurrying in and out. Clanging around the kitchen. Yelling at the jukebox. Crying in front of the movie projector. It's quiet, down here in the basement, the rhythmic tumble of clothes in the dryer, the groaning rumble of the water heaters and generators, and I'm sitting alone on the ( Read more... )