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Picking Up Where We Left Off (Gen, 10/13)
Title: Picking Up Where We Left Off
Disclaimer: This is Kripke's sandbox, I just like playing with his toys ;)
Rating: R, for language and violence.
Category: Gen.
Pairings: None.
Characters: Dean, Sam, Bobby, OCs, other canon characters.
Spoilers: For all episodes aired in the US. This story is mostly AU for season 3, but some characters and events will be mentioned.
Comments: Are what feeds my muse ;)
A/N: Much love and cookies to the awesomeness that is my beta ![[info]](https://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
tru_faith_lost , who helps making this story better. All remaining mistakes are mine.
A/A/N: I really, really want to kill Sam. Can I? Please? 
Summary: Twenty five years ago, a demon killed Mary Winchester and tainted her son. Six years ago, someone drugged and abducted Dean Winchester. Nine months ago, one of the yellow eyed demon's tainted kids killed Sam Winchester. A few days later, the gates to hell opened and all hell broke loose. And now, everything's picking up where it left off....
Chapter Ten
Sam was dead. Had been, for a little over nine months now, and it was all Dean's fault. He should have been stronger, should have resisted more. He should have torn the place apart to make sure that bitch kept her end of the deal. He hadn’t. And his little brother was the one who paid for it.
She had wanted to keep her end of the deal, had wanted his soul, and Dean had been only too happy to give it to her, happy to get ripped apart by her dogs and spend an eternity in Hell, if only she'd let Sam…
Dean let out a broken sob, tears falling from his bloodshot eyes. Sam was dead, again, and it was all his fault.
Someone held a bottle of water to his lips, coaxed him to drink. He's done that a lot at the beginning. When Sam had died again. Drank that water and became all numb inside. Or maybe it wasn’t the water that had made him numb. He roughly remembered being numb before. When Sam died before. When Sam died…
No amount of drugs or whatever else was in that water took the pain away, not really. And somewhere deep inside, Dean was glad for that. Because Sam was dead, and it was his fault. Because he hadn’t put up more of a fight. Because he let them kill the crossroads demon, and now there was no way for Sam to not be dead now, no chance for more deals, no chance for Sam to be…
Sam was gone. He died. Again. Three days ago.
Dean remembered the numbness he'd felt when Sam's body got cold in his arms, before the pain hit, before grief and hopelessness. Maybe this was the same numb feeling. Sam's body was out there, already cold, and this time it was worse. This time Sam had died alone.
Another sob escaped him. Another tear squeezed through his closed eye.
He remembered screaming; both times Sam had died. Both times there was some sort of ritual involved. But the crossroads demon was dead this time.
Like Sam.
There was a different ritual this time, different way to take claim over his soul. He didn’t go looking for a crossroads this time. He didn’t give up his soul willingly this time. Not that it mattered much.
Sam was dead.
Dad was dead
Mom was dead.
There was nothing left to fight for, so he stopped fighting. Three days ago, he'd stopped fighting. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a tiny part of him tried to keep fighting, tried to remind him that people needed his help, that people would die if he didn’t help them. That these people were probably someone else's Sam. He told that part to shut its cake hole.
A tiny hand touched his cheek. A tiny voice called his name. (Not Sam) Dean tried to ignore it, but the voice kept calling, pleading. A small body (not Sam) pressed itself against the wounds that had stopped bleeding days ago. (Long after Sam had died). The pressure against the still raw wounds made a small hiss escape Dean's lips.
Little fists twisted in his torn and bloody shirt. Large green eyes filled with fear and tears met his. (Not Sam)
Maybe there still was someone to protect. Until they all died, and he could join his family.
"Dean, I'm scared." A small, stuffy voice said. Dean forced himself to look at those green eyes. Not Sam, never again.
"I'm not."
Sam was dead. Like Mom and Dad. Dean was alone, and nothing could change it. There was nothing left to fear.
Bobby rubbed at his tired eyes and looked across the table at Sam, who was staring at the same page he'd been staring at for the past ten minutes. "Sam?" But if Sam even heard him, he made no move to show it. Sighing, Bobby got to his feet and walked over to his duffle, fishing around for a bottle of Tylenol. He took out a couple of pills and filled a glass with lukewarm tap water.
Bobby called out Sam's name again, not getting any response from Sam, until Bobby just closed the book with a loud thump. Sam blinked, looking up at the older man quizzically, and Bobby offered him the pills.
Sam's brow furrowed. "What're those for?" He asked.
"Looked like you needed 'em," Bobby said.
"I don’t," said Sam and stretched in his chair, working the kinks out of his neck and back.
"Well then, mind sharing with the rest of the class?" Bobby asked. Sam blinked at him. "What bit you in the ass?" Bobby grunted, shifting his hat back to scratch his head and then pulling it back in place.
Sam opened his mouth like he had something to say, and then he tilted his head, his face crinkled in thought. Bobby watched the quickly changing expressions on Sam's face, his worry intensifying.
"Marlene," said Sam, his voice a mix of wonder and triumph. Bobby's eyebrows disappeared under his hat.
"What's that?"
"Marlene!" Sam repeated, a smile spreading on his face. "Man, that's been bugging me for days! I knew she told me her name. I don’t just sleep with a girl and forget about it the next day. It's just with all the stress…"
Bobby blinked, mouth slightly open. "Uh, Sam?"
Sam looked quite proud of himself, smiling like an idiot. His smile vanished at the look on Bobby's face. He shook his head as if waking from a dream, his face turning red all the way to the tips of his ears, and cleared his throat. "I uh… I mean…" he grabbed the glass of water from Bobby, emptying it in one gulp. The water went down the wrong pipe and Sam started coughing, but he batted Bobby's hands away and took a couple of deep breaths.
"It's been eleven days, Bobby," Sam said finally. Bobby sighed and sat back down. "Ruby said…" Sam started, but Bobby cut him off.
"Damn it, Sam, stop believing everything that demon tells you! She's a demon. She's helping you, you need to be thinkin' what it is she wants in return," Bobby groused. Sam lowered his head, clenching and unclenching his jaw, before he looked back up at Bobby.
"Fine. Then she has an ulterior motive and she's lying. And Dean's… what? We don’t have a clue about where he is, Bobby. We don’t even know if he's still alive, not really." Bobby had nothing to say to that, so he kept his mouth shut. "Ruby says Dean's alive," Sam went on. "She says they'll kill him in three days, and you know what? I believe her. Because I can't take the chance of not believing her and being wrong."
Bobby sighed and scratched his beard. "Okay," he said tiredly. "Okay. So what's our next move?"
Sam ran both his hands through his messy hair and then stood up. "We need more information," he said.
"You got any you haven’t shared yet, I'm all ears."
"What about that cop? That… Carlos Martinez you talked to?" Sam asked, but Bobby shook his head.
"This isn’t even the same state, Sam. And I've been to that place he was talking about. It's a doughnut shop now." Sam rubbed at his temples, and Bobby's stomach reminded him it really liked to have doughnuts. Or any kind of food. Now, please. "We should go grab something to eat," Bobby suggested.
"I'm not hungry," Sam said as he got up and started pacing.
"You should eat anyway. You haven’t eaten a thing today," Bobby noted, but Sam just ran a hand over his face.
"I gotta do something, Bobby. Something… more."
"You keep going like that, you're not gonna do your brother any good when we finally do find him," Bobby said. Sam paced for a while longer, and Bobby was getting dizzy looking at him.
"I'm going to summon Ruby," Sam said all of a sudden.
"What? Why?"
"Because she can hel…"
"Sam," Bobby cut him off before he could finish.
"I gotta do something, Bobby, and she might tell me. If I play my cards right, she might tell me."
Bobby sighed again. "I don’t know, Sam. That's an awful lot of trusting to put on a the likes of her," he said. Sam said nothing, just gave Bobby a look that spoke all he needed to say. This is for Dean.
"Sam. A lot of nerve you've got, summoning me here after last night," Ruby said and crossed her arms over her chest. Sam gave a small nod.
"Yeah I… I'm sorry about that," he said and pushed to his feet.
"And what's with the summoning? The phone too good for you?"
Sam took a deep breath, ignoring the taunts. "You're a demon," he said.
"Uh, yeah. We've already established that."
"Demons lie."
Ruby narrowed her eyes, stood up a little straighter. "What's this about, Sam?"
"How do I know you're not lying to me? I mean, you've lied to me before. How do I know you're not lying about this?"
"This being…?"
"About Dean; about him still being alive. About those demons that are going to kill him in three days," Sam demanded.
"Why would I lie to you, Sam? What good would that do?"
"Well, you are a demon. Isn’t it in the job description? And besides, you don’t like Dean," Sam noted. Ruby snorted.
"Can't say as I do."
"Then why help him?"
"Oh, I'm not. Trust me, Sam. If it was up to me, I'd let them flay him alive. But you're still under the illusion you need him for some reason. Have no mistake about it Sam, I'm doing this for you, not for that ass of a brother of yours."
Sam gave a little nod. "Okay," he said. "So prove it. Tell me where he is. Let my see him. Just… I need to see for myself that he's still alive. Please, just… Just take me to see him. I promise I won't do anything stupid. I just need to see for myself…"
Ruby sighed. "Sam, I told you, I can't take you to him. I don’t know where he is," she said exasperatedly.
"But," Sam started, and Ruby held up her hand to stop him.
"Unless…"
"Unless what?"
"Well, there's something I can do. To show you," Ruby said cautiously.
"Then do it. Show me," Sam said quickly. "Please," he added.
Ruby gave him a long look, and then nodded slowly and lowered her head. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, they were tar black.
"Ruby?" Sam asked hesitantly. Ruby closed her hand over the amulet hanging from her neck and started chanting something under her breath. "Ruby, what are you…?" But Ruby didn’t answer, didn’t even look at him. Just kept on chanting. "Ruby, stop," Sam ordered her, but she didn’t. "I said stop!" He cried. And then she did. She lifted her dark eyes to look at him, her hand reached for his forehead, and then everything went white.
A white-hot pain burst behind Sam's eyes, spreading like fire in his brain. He thought he might have grabbed his head, thought he might have screamed, but he couldn’t tell for sure. He thought he might have passed out, because when the white went away, so did everything else. He figured, wherever Dean was, he was probably saying 'I told you so'.
The white faded away eventually, but that didn’t really help, because all Sam was left with was total darkness. Sam's heart began to pound hard against his chest as he squinted around the total lack of light.
Slowly, gradually, his other senses began to kick back in. His sense of smell was the first to return, and after it did, Sam sort of wished it hadn’t. Wherever he was, it smelled so bad it made him gag. The smell was a mix of stale air, urine, blood, and sweat. Sam really had to fight the urge to throw up; he didn’t think that would help the smell any.
Sound was the second sense to return. Whimpers and sobs, soft, but not too far. He could hear people talking in hushed, tired tones. Sam frowned and tried to concentrate on what they were saying.
His eyes were the last to adjust to his new surroundings. He could see the people now, tired looking men and women, sitting around the large, stagnant room. There were about a dozen of them, and it looked like they were all injured. Most of them didn’t look that bad, though. Tired, exhausted maybe. Scared. But not in urgent need of medical help.
They were all covered in blood, every one he could see, but there wasn’t much of it. He took a closer look at one or two of them. Their wounds seemed superficial, the blood congealed, but the wounds seemed fresh.
Sam sucked in his breath, his eyes going wide at the sight of the familiar figure of his brother. He called out to Dean, but Dean didn’t even flinch. He kept sitting there, with his back against the wall in what looked like a very uncomfortable angle, lap full of sobbing little boy, blank eyes staring blindly ahead.
Sam rushed to his brother's side, falling to his knees next to Dean, but his brother didn’t so much as blink. Sam tried shaking him and yelped when his hands went right though Dean's shoulders.
He jumped when one of the others let out a cry of frustration, and turned to look at him, squinting his eyes in the bad lighting.
"I can't take it anymore!" The man said, and hissed as he got to his feet. "Why are we just sitting here, doing nothing?" The man demanded, looking around. Sam swallowed and looked at Dean, but Dean just blinked and kept on staring ahead. "I mean, seriously, what are we waiting for? Huh? For them to kill us all?" No one answered him. The best the guy got were a few looks his way.
"Oh, come on, people! We’ve been here for two weeks! No one's coming for us. If we want out of here, we gotta do it ourselves!" The man stressed. He let out another cry of frustration when no one joined him.
"So what, huh?" He pushed, looking around desperately. "You're all giving up?" He asked, but wherever he looked, people looked the other way. Sam glanced at Dean, hoping, praying that he would answer the call, but Dean just hit his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "There are no more people, do you get that? They took the last one of us last night. They've dealt with us all, one by one. What do you suppose they're going to do tonight? Huh? Ever thought of that?" The man's voice broke a little, sweat rolling off his temple. "Oh, come on. What, you think they'll just let us go?" He demanded.
"Maybe," someone said in a small, hopeful voice. The man snorted.
"Right. And maybe the moon's made of cheese," he rolled his eyes. "Come on, we gotta… we gotta do… something! We gotta, I don’t know, break down the door, find a way out!"
"You've already tired that. Didn’t work," a woman said and sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. The man gritted his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked around helplessly until his eyes landed on Dean. Sam swallowed, heart pounding, and sat up a little straighter. He looked from the man to Dean, who was still just sitting there with his eyes closed, like he didn’t give a rat's ass about anything, not even really paying attention to the kid in his lap. It scared the crap out of Sam, seeing Dean like that, like nothing mattered anymore. It just wasn’t his brother; Sam had never seen him this way. Ever.
The man walked over to Dean. "Come on, Winchester, you know I'm right," he pleaded, "We gotta do something!"
Dean's eyes moved lazily to the man, and then back away, focusing on nothing, his hand absentmindedly stroked the little boy's head. The man let out another cry of frustration and kneeled next to Dean.
"Come on! You're the one who said we can't just sit around with our thumbs up our asses. You're the one that helped us out last time. What the hell are you waiting for?" He hissed. "I know this is hard, I know all you want to do is just get stoned out of your mind, man, I know it hurts, but…"
"You don’t know shit." Dean's gaze suddenly cleared, sharpened. His eyes glared with intensity that sent the man a few steps back and made Sam gasp. There was so much hate and hurt in those green eyes that made Sam's chest hurt.
"What did they do to you?" He whispered, unheard.
"Get the hell away from me, Mike," Dean growled, and the little boy in his lap whimpered. The man, Mike, was about to speak, but Dean's glower changed his mind. At least for a little while.
"Look, I get it," Mike said, raising his hands in surrender. "Whatever they did, I get it, man. It hurts like hell, and it's scary, but you can't just…" he sighed. "I need you, man. I can't do this on my own, and Ben's… I need your help. We need your help."
Dean just kept staring ahead at nothing, that blank look back in his eyes. Mike ran a bloody hand over his face and sighed. "Look, I get it, man."
Dean reacted so fast, neither Mike nor Sam saw it coming. Quick as a snake, Dean's arm reached out and snatched the collar or Mike's bloody shirt, pulling him in. "You don’t get it," Dean hissed. "You don’t have a freakin' clue, so get the hell out of my face!" He yelled.
Mike was stunned for a moment, before his shock turned to anger. "Look, I know they hurt you, they hurt all of us. But we have to snap out of it, fast, or they're going to kill us all!" Mike pushed. The little boy in Dean's lap looked up at him, and his eyes watered. His lower lip trembled, and a moment later, he started wailing. Dean pulled him closer, but didn’t even glance at him.
"I don’t care," he whispered.
"Well, I do!" Mike cried. "I have a family, I have a girlfriend, I'm sure as hell not gonna give up and die in here, you hear me?" He pushed, getting in Dean's face. "I don’t care what crawled up your ass, but you're going to help…"
This time Dean didn’t hold back. He was on his feet in a blink of an eye, his grip strong around Mike's throat. "Get the hell out of my face, before I do something you'll regret," Dean threatened in a low voice, then pushed Mike back. Mike lost his balance and fell on his ass.
"No!" Mike insisted. "You just proved it, man. You're still in there, somewhere. You were all for fighting before, all for making plans and trying to get out of this place. You're obviously not as high as you pretend to be, so get over yourself and start helping!" He demanded, but Dean just sat down again, the kid burrowing deeper into his side, his little hands covering his ears.
"Oh, damn it, man, come on," Mike pleaded. "I can't do it alone. I think I might be able to sober Ben up enough to help, but I need you, man. I am not going to die here, you get it? I'm not!" Mike's voice cracked and he swallowed. He rubbed his nose, shook his head and blinked his tears away, but Dean remained impassive.
"You want to die? Is that what you want?" Mike whispered in a shaky voice, his composure faltering. "You want your family to have to go to the morgue to identify your sorry ass because you couldn’t be bothered to help? Is that…" Mike didn’t get to finish the sentence when Dean shoved him against the wall he'd been leaning against mere seconds before.
"I don’t have a family anymore," Dean whispered in a way that made chills run down Sam's spine. "You think you're so smart? Think you know everything? Think you know what they did to me in that room?" There was malice in Dean's voice that Sam recognized but couldn’t quite place. "They killed my brother out there," Dean shoved Mike harder against the wall, "They killed him to get to me, so don’t you give me any of this crap. You have no idea… You stay in my face any longer, and I swear to God, I'll kill you myself," Dean spat, and the bottom dropped under Sam's stomach.
"Dean," Sam could barely voice his brother's name, his eyes watering. He could place that anger now; Dean had lashed out after their father had died. If he thought that… oh, God, if he believed… "Dean, I'm still alive. Do you hear me? I'm not dead!" Sam cried. He tried shaking his brother by the shoulders, but his arms went right through.
"They what?" Mike whispered in shock, and Dean let him go, pushed him away.
"They killed my brother," Dean said in a shaky voice, and dropped back to the floor, back resting against the wall. He closed his eyes in an effort to keep the tears from flowing down his cheeks. "They killed the only family I had left, so excuse me if I don’t give a shit about what happens now."
It took a moment for Mike to wrap his brain around what Dean had said. "Why would they do that?" He asked in horror. Dean smiled bitterly, but didn’t answer. "Are you sure? I mean, did you actually see…?"
Sam shook his head and reached for his brother. "Dean, listen to me. I know you can hear me if you really want to. You could always hear me. Listen to me, Dean. I am not dead. I am not dead, you hear me? I'm not dead! So you get up, and you fight! You fight, Dean, okay? Please…" Sam begged, but it was useless. Dean looked right through him.
Sam winced when the doors opened and the bright light momentarily blinded him. People were screaming, and this was it. God, this was it, and Dean wasn’t even fighting.
"Goddamnit, Dean, please!" Sam cried, before the white light burned into his corneas, short circuiting his synapses. "Demons lie, Dean, you know that. You taught me that. You can't believe what they say! I'm not dead, Dean! I'm right here. I'm right here, Dean! Please fight. Please save yourself!" Sam cried, tears spilling from his eyes. "Just tell me where you are. Let me prove to you that I'm not dead. Let me save you, Dean. Just tell me where you URGH!" Sam screamed as the pain in his head became more than he could manage. He pressed his hands to his temples trying to keep his brain from bursting.
And then everything went dark and quiet.
Sam's eyes were a little sticky from the tears, but he managed to get them opened. And immediately wished he hadn’t.
He was still standing in the same room, only now it was lit by warm candlelight. It smelled of blood and smoke, and something else Sam couldn’t put his finger on. And there were thirteen dead bodies lined up in a circle, each lying in a pool of blood.
There were demons there, the ritual still going on.
Sam's breath got caught in his throat at the sight of his brother's savaged, and for a moment, all he could think about was that they still had three months. That it wasn’t right, because they were supposed to have three more months.
Sam had no idea how he managed to cross the room and get to his brother's side, but he was there now, kneeling in a pool of Dean's blood and trying to hold his brother in his arms, but he couldn’t touch Dean. Sam's hands went right through his brother's dead body and touched the floor. The blood soaked floor. When Sam raised his hands, they were sticky and covered in blood.
Fat tears fell freely down Sam's face, and he cried in pain and rage, his cry turning into a scream as the pain wrapped around his brain again and squeezed so hard Sam couldn’t even breathe.
Then the pain was gone.
When Sam opened his eyes, it almost felt like he was still seeing white. The light was so bright it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Ruby was standing over him, practically holding him up. She was calling his name, shaking him, telling him to snap out of it. She looked a little freaked out, which didn’t really help.
Sam was still crying, still shaken from the sight of his brother. It took him a few moments to compose himself, to remember where he was, and why. "What happened? What… What did you do to me?" Sam stammered, his voice, like his body, shaking.
Ruby helped him to the floor, supported him as he sat there, shocked. "You said you wanted to see," she said. "You said you wanted to know what would happen to your brother. You said you wanted me to show you."
Sam shook his head and pushed Ruby away. "Get away from me," he spat and pushed to his feet. Ruby rolled her eyes.
"Stop being a baby, Sam. Stop whining and feeling sorry for yourself," she snapped. "You wanted me to show you? Well, I did. Deal with it."
"You bitch," Sam spat. "You think…"
"You have so much power, Sam. You want to save your brother? You're the one who can. With the right training, you can get those demons to bow before you," Ruby cut him off.
Sam shook his head. "What power? You mean all that psychic crap?" He asked. "'Cause that's gone. Been gone ever since Yellow Eyes died."
It was Ruby's turn to shake her head. "Not gone," she said, "dormant. And not just visions, either. You want me to save your brother? Let me teach you how to use it."
Sam squared his jaw, gritting his teeth, his eyes narrowing. "You think I'm stupid? You think you can mess with my head and get me to go darkside? For what, so I could be your little Antichrist?"
"So you could save your brother!" Ruby snapped impatiently. "So you'd finally stop with that whole puppy dog routine you've got going on, because let me tell you, Sam, demons don’t really find that all too intimidating."
Sam rolled his eyes. "You're just full of it, aren’t you?" He said. "Can you help my brother, or not?" Sam demanded.
"I can teach you how to save him," Ruby answered. "But it's gotta be now."
"Why?"
"Because. We got a lot of ground to cover, and we gotta do it fast," Ruby said, and crossed her arms over her chest. Sam considered it. For a whole minute, he was about to give in. But then he shook his head.
"There has to be another way," he said.
"Sure," Ruby said. "Your brother can die; Lillith can go after your friends; and then we'll be right back here. But, you know, whatever."
"There weren’t so many demons in there," Sam said. "I could use to Colt. And your knife."
Ruby rolled her eyes and sighed. "Sure. There's an army of demons out there, that's about to raise a master they've been trying to raise for centuries, but sure. Go ahead. If you're really that stupid, maybe I was wrong about you," she said, and Sam turned away from her. "Just promise me something, Sam? When you find your brother's dead corpse and realize he's earned an early ticket to Hell, come get me, okay? Because I really want a front seat for that. I want to be there when you realize you've made the biggest mistake of your life!" She yelled after him as he went away.
He wasn’t going to listen to her. She was a demon.
But he'd seen his brother die. A hundred times over. And he wouldn't let it happen again.
TBC
Previously: Where it all started >> 2 >> 3 >> 4 >> 5 >> 6 >> 7 >> 8 >> 9a >> 9b >> 10 >> 11 >> 12 >> 13
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And DEAN - Sam's alive!! Don't give up! You and Dean are in the same boat right now, dear. *throws you both life rafts*
If you need ANY help, I'm here! If you want someone to just bounce ideas off of or whatever, I really don't mind. You can't abandon this fic! It's too awesome!
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As fot the life rafts... ... Muahahahaha (they're so going to need it. Muahahahaha)
I might take you up on that idea bouncing offer ;)
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*smish*
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Nah, this is a happy ending fic. I'll just kill sam after. Over, and over and over again. With no trickster or having poor dean watch. Muahahhahahahaha. Ahm...
*blushes*
*hides*
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I'm not reading I'm afraid, but I'm still eagerly awaiting this to be finished. :)
There are many people out there who don't even click on a fic until it's finished so don't worry, you'll find so many more people reading this once it's done.
I hope you find enough encouragement to battle on a finish this, just think of the sense of satisfaction and achievement if you get this difficult story completed.
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I know. Problem is, 99.9% of them don't comment, so I don't really know they're reading...
*sigh*
Thanks for the kind words tho!
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(Anonymous) 2008-07-21 07:09 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
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Uh... yes? *iz evol. muahahaha*
XD
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Yes, I do know where this is heading, have known for ages. In fact, the last scene is already written. Now, if I could just get there...
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ROFL at your icon!
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I'm hoping that you don't give up on this, it's far too good to abandon!
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*smish*
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Ok, I'll finish it! XD 3 chapters left to go.
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Good questions. All I can say is Muahahahahaha XD
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(HUGS)
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(Anonymous) 2008-07-26 02:23 am (UTC)(link)no subject
The story is finished. Just need a little bit of editing, but chapter 11 is with my wonderful beta now =)
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And you're being so nice with the commenting, I can't ignore your request, so here's chapter 11: http://sams1ra.livejournal.com/60057.html#cutid1
Hope you like it!