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X  ________                   ____  ___                                     X
X  \______ \   _   _ _ __ ___ \   \/  /               The Pack              X
X   |    |  \ | | | | '__/ _ \ \     /            ---------------           X
X   |    `   \| |_| | | |  __/ /     \            by Steppenrazor           X
X  /_______  / \__,_|_|  \___|/___/\  \                                     X
Xxxxxxxxxxx\/  Blender Corporation  \_/xxxxxxx[DBC013(IFVD)-SR.930311]xxxxxxX

     
     The quantity of sensory input threatened to snap the already fraying
connection that Bill had to reality.  Her blood, her breasts against his arm,
her limp body on his lap, her breath, the cold, the smell of whiskey, the
sound of Miranda bandaging the girls wrists...

     The car sped on.  The car that held them all together.  The green,
kicked in, fucked up, rusted, glasspacked piece of Saturday Night Drag Racing
shit just careened along the edge of the mountain road. Beep Beep.

     Bill's mind clicked back to reality almost audibly. As he heard Frank
enter the room.  Frank had the presence of mind to finally shut the door.  He
rushed to Bill and took Jessica out of his arms.

     "I love you Jesse. Oh GOD why did you try this shit again?"

     "Her good ol' stepdad tried to rape her again, Frank." Miranda said
almost absent-mindedly as she ripped the end of the bandage off with her
teeth."...Now don't do anything hasty, Frank!  He's passed out on that
home-made whiskey, and Bill's already got 'im turned so that maybe the
bastard'll choke to death."

     Bill smiled a smile that Frank thought he had seen once before, on
Animal Kingdom.

     Not all of the Pack was here, but the alpha and beta were, Bill and
Miranda, their attempt to find an empty bed had luckily brought them to
Jessica's house.

     "Ass-hole is snoring his fucking little head off in there." Mark sneered
as he entered the now over-crowded bathroom from the living room where the
step-leviathan was sleeping it off.  "I think I'm going to take his shotgun
and blow his FUCKING HEAD OFF!"

     Miranda looked at Bill and the unspoken conversation was quick: 
     ~Talk to him, Bill.~ 
     ~I'd like to let him do it...I'll help him.~ 
     ~BILL!~ 
     ~I know, love... I know....~ 

     "We share your sentiments, Mark, but we just can't do that..." 
     "I thought that we'd all do anything for each..." 
     "Of course we would." Bill was almost offended. He decided to change the
subject. "Where's Elf?"
     "Pacing, and dealing with this as best he can, he's a bit sheltered, ya
know."

     The first chuckle of the evening came from Bill "Now there's an
understatement...Let's have a butt." Bill grabbed a cigarette from Mark's
shirt pocket, no need to ask in the Pack...for anything, and headed for the
porch.  Mark followed.

     The two stood in concert tee shirts, practically naked to the cold,
October air, surveying the slum they were in, thinking about the Pack, and
how best to nurse Jesse back to health, sans official intervention, and how
they were sure that they'd never survive without one another...

     And somewhere the brake lines got cut, and someone leaned on the horn as
fluid ran down the chassis of the green caddy...

     Beep Beep.

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 xX Copyright (C) 1993 by The Durex Blender Corporation and Steppenrazor  Xx
xX          All Rights Reserved. Text used with kind permission.           Xx
xX                                  * * *                                  Xx
xX  The Durex Blender Corporation / Box 381511 / Cambridge, MA 02238-1511  Xx
 xX                  The Eleventh Hour BBS 617.696.3146                   Xx
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