I've noticed that I usually have one or two "guest" reviewers. Since I can't PM you guys (to give you the preview that the rest of my reviewers get), if you still want one, feel free to email me - dick0382 umn. edu (it's my NAME...I'm not a pervert). Looks like the people who voted in my poll all think Caleb will draw the short straw, but would prefer that no one dies. So, Caleb's your sacrificial lamb, reviewers? Poor guy. :P

trudes193- Merci. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Astrianne- I'm glad you like the quote- I actually have that (and the caterpillar one) as magnets on my fridge. Also glad you like the title. It can be a bitch to pick them when all I have are song titles on my iTunes (I don't know why I always do it that way).

Jesscah- Aw, no one (except Robert, apparently) likes Cheryl. As I mentioned to you before, I was going to have a little tension between them, but on top of not wanting EVERYONE to hate each other, I realized that they actually have common ground. And as for Jackson's little outburst, I have to admit that I enjoyed visualizing it. Glad you enjoyed!

pinky's creature feature- I can't get over how your first line ("omg I'm so excited to see what happens!") looks next to your profile pic of Zoiberg, who looks like he's flailing. I just stared and giggled like an idiot. And I'll try to be as nice as I can to our little characters, but happy endings are just so difficult for me. I want one SOO badly when the ending is sad, but usually end up hating it when I do read one. We'll see what happens- I have no ending solidly planned at the moment.

Pirate Gyrl- Yes, her butter has slipped off her cracker. She'll get a little more "special" later. As for the greeting card, I could just see her getting a card like that, hating it, but feeling obligated to put it on her fridge (and liking it well enough to quote it). It seemed very "Lisa" to me.

KnoKnayme- Glad to hear that it wasn't over the top and too soap opera!

EmpireAndAll- Oh sure, point out my flaw. :P Can we just pretend that they're a little hipster about their phones? As for your second review: I have a feeling that you're right.

Guest- Wow, thanks! It seems like the more I get nervous about my chapters, the more supportive you guys get. All my love is reserved for you fantastic people.

Clavis Salomonis- Love heart goo! Thanks for the support, my lovely.

In honor of the reviewers who responded so fantastically to my last scene, I wrote a little more porn. And drama. And a new character's point of view. Enjoy:

Chapter 21: Compromise

"She's pregnant?" Lisa asked in disbelief. Jackson nodded, shifting to lay perpendicular to Lisa, his head on her stomach. He stared at the ceiling. He had relayed his previous conversation to her, and she was trying to take it all in. Lisa scowled. Any doubt she had felt about killing Cheryl was gone. "You're not going to tell Caleb, are you?"

Jackson scoffed. "Absolutely not."

Lisa absently played with his hair. "Will he call it off if he finds out?" she asked. "What if she tells him?" Jackson reached over his head and grabbed Lisa's hand, intertwining his fingers in hers.

"She won't," he responded coldly. "It wasn't a confession that she was trying to get off her chest- she just told me to get under my skin. She might even be lying." He chuckled dryly as Lisa's stomach rumbled. "You sound hungry."

Lisa half-smiled. "I am," she replied. She squeezed Jackson's hand and nudged him off of her, pulling herself into a sitting position. "You do believe that you're not like her, right?" Jackson rolled onto his stomach, propping himself up with his forearms.

"Honestly?" he asked. "I want to, but I..." He hung his head. "I agreed with her in a way, Leese. I understood why she didn't love or respect Caleb anymore. I've done a lot of things that decent people would find horrible, but I feel no remorse for most of them." He looked up at her again. "And I don't feel guilty for not feeling guilty."

Lisa nodded. It unnerved her to see him lacking confidence, and she felt conflicted. On one hand, she could feed this lack and maybe convince him to give up his profession, but on the other, she knew that he was good at it and what he did was important. Then again, if he was second-guessing himself so much, he probably wouldn't be as good at it as he used to. And yet again, she knew that he still had Keefe and Robert to kill. It was occurring to her more and more that he was relying on her to help him out. He would never say the things he was saying just to share his feelings- he was genuinely lost, and whatever she said could very well influence his next moves.

"Well," she began, leaning back on her forearms. She didn't continue, realizing that she still didn't know quite how to handle it. She looked at Jackson to see if she could see some indication of which direction he wanted her to head. She saw only questions in his eyes, and could tell that he was waiting for her answer. "It's one thing to kill when you believe that it's necessary," she said carefully. "What Cheryl is doing is betrayal, and she's been doing it for a while. It's different. Even if she was successful, and Caleb was killed, you would be alive and you would go after Robert. She has to know that."

Lisa furrowed her eyebrows. "The way I see it," she continued, "she's using the situation to get rid of an inconvenience and leaving you and Robert to fight it out...if she had any guts, she would have just left Caleb long ago. And that's very different than what you do." She traced her fingers along her collarbone, trying to figure out exactly what she was attempting to say.

"I guess...maybe you don't respect Caleb for walking out, but you would never punish him for it. You understand that it's his decision to make, even if you disagree with it. And that's what makes you a better person." She waited for Jackson to reply, but he just continued to stare at her. "Maybe you didn't avoid Caleb because you were hurt that he left. Maybe you avoided him because you knew that he was trying to start a new life, and you knew that you were part of the old life...it hurts to do the right thing sometimes, like you feel like you're watching out for everyone else and wondering who has your back." She winced in frustration. "Sorry, that didn't make much sense, did it?"

Jackson shrugged, pondering what she said. "It does," he finally replied. He pushed himself onto his knees and slid closer to Lisa. "If I continue doing what I do..." he began, frowning slightly. He seemed nervous. "...will you stay?" He cleared his throat. "With me, I mean."

Lisa's eyes widened. She hadn't expected that. She rested her chin on her own shoulder, staring at him. He still looked so vulnerable, and she didn't want to hurt him. But she couldn't lie either. "I don't know," she responded, and frowned when she saw his face drop. "It's not because I don't like it," she continued hastily. "I mean, I don't really like it, but I get it. And I guess I support it in a way. But I think I'd be afraid for you a lot." She forced a smile, wanting so badly to fix the sadness on his face. "This is all happening so fast," she said, turning her torso to take both of his hands in hers. "I'll make you a deal." She used his weight to pull herself closer to him. "Ask me again when this is over, and I'll have a definite answer. Alright?"

Jackson nodded, his face warming slightly. He slid his hand under her thighs and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. Lisa giggled as she looked down at him. "Do you realize that this is the first time that we've had a meaningful conversation without one of us getting angry?" she asked, kissing him quickly. "It's a little creepy."

Jackson chuckled softly. "Well, I could insult you if you'd prefer," he teased, and pressed his face against her throat. "Maybe threaten you," he mumbled, kissing under her jawline. Lisa tilted her head back, closing her eyes. She grabbed his shoulders, using him for support as she leaned back, allowing him to trail kisses down her neck and collarbone. She felt his sinfully experience lips on her breasts again and closed her eyes. In the past, with the few boyfriends she had had, this kind of foreplay bored her. She always felt like they were rushing through it, eager to get to the "good part". Jackson was different- he seemed to savor her, probably enjoying the thrill of torturing his prey more than the actual devouring. She reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding over her nipple again, and jolted slightly when she felt him blow softly on the wet skin. A shiver traveled through her body.

"You're surprisingly good at this," she teased, bucking her hips against him when he bit down gently on a nipple in a silent reply. Jackson groaned, squeezing her shoulder blades. She felt his arousal pressing between her legs through the fabric of their jeans, and pulled her entire weight against him, eliciting sharp moans from both of them. He bucked his hips in response, sending another jolt of pleasure through her body. Lisa was no man's prey, and she could give as well as she got.

Lisa grabbed Jackson's face with both hands and pulled him up. She leaned down, kissing him deeply as her fingers trailed down his chest, stomach, and to the buckle of his belt. She felt so free, and all she could think about was how badly she wanted him.

Jackson placed both hands on her sides and pushed her off of his lap, sending her onto her back. Lisa frowned incredulously as he got to his feet. What the hell? He motioned around the room. "Not here."

Lisa raised both eyebrows. She had never heard of a man giving himself blue balls before. But she understood, and allowed Jackson to pull her to her feet. She could even convince herself that it was more romantic than practical- he wanted their first time to be better than somewhat awkward moments spent being distracted by the thought his brother and their hostage on the other side of the door.

Jackson carefully bent down to retrieve her hoodie and bra, and handed the two items to her. "I think I need a shower," he stated, obviously chagrined. Lisa giggled softly and kissed him quickly to let him know that she wasn't upset. She was disappointed, but definitely agreed that it wasn't the best of settings.

"Alright, but do me another favor," she replied, pressing her body against his. Jackson inhaled sharply and grabbed her shoulders tightly to push her away, but Lisa wasn't going anywhere. "You need to get it together again," she teased, trying to lighten the mood and still get her point across. "I think I like you better as an arrogant jerk." She smiled and leaned up to kiss the tip of Jackson's nose playfully. "Okay?" In a way, she did prefer that Jackson have his confidence, despite that fact that he used that confidence to use and murder people who may or may not deserve it, but realistically she knew that he needed that confidence to get through the night.

"Mhm," he responded, and pushed her firmly from him. He looked her over once more before turning for the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Lisa pulled her clothes back on and dropped onto the bed, breathing deeply to calm herself. She knew that her cheeks were still flushed, and she ached to be back in his arms. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to be touched in that way, and she felt as though a dam inside her was broken. She needed more, and knowing that she wouldn't get it anytime soon was almost too frustrating to handle. She felt an unfamiliar urge to follow Jackson into the bathroom and jump in that shower with him. A cold shower felt like a great idea. Running her fingers quickly through her short hair, she forced herself to calm down and finally exit the room.

Caleb sat on the couch, staring at his wife. How did they get here? Caleb couldn't figure out who was surprising him more- Cheryl, or Jackson. His brother had changed so much over the last decade, and it definitely seemed like there was yet another personality shift. He could see glimpses of the brother he knew well, the actual human inside him. He grinned, wondering if it was technically progression or regression if a person behaves more like they did ten years ago, if that older self was a more complete person. All he knew was that smart money was on Lisa having something to do with the changes.

He heard the bedroom door open, and turned to see the woman in question standing in the doorway, staring at Cheryl. He took in her disheveled hair and pink cheeks. He noticed that the shower was running in the other room, and couldn't help but chuckle.

"You should probably tell Jeff to wash his sheets," he teased, drinking from the bottle of beer that Jackson had left behind.

Lisa paled. "We just talked," she replied nervously. Caleb raised an eyebrow. He wasn't blind. He could see that there was something between the two of them that hadn't been there back in Minnesota. And he knew that they weren't "just talking"- he wasn't deaf, either.

"Thin walls," he replied, still grinning. It was oddly amusing to see her so uncomfortable under her gaze. Lisa's cheeks flushed again, and she broke his gaze. She walked over to Cheryl, who was unconscious on the chair.

"What happened?" she asked, changing the subject. She dropped next to Caleb, who also looked at Cheryl again. The smear of blood on the corner of her mouth was almost dried, and the swelling on her face was getting worse. Caleb was pretty sure that Jackson had fractured her her cheekbone, which could only have been caused by an incredibly hard hit.

"I sedated her," he replied coolly. He had had enough of her winces and moans, knowing that he didn't have the resources available to fix her- even if he wanted to. "Jackson hit her. She wouldn't tell me why." He glanced at her. "Did he tell you?"

Lisa shrugged. "Not really," she responded, and it was obviously a lie. Caleb frowned. What could she have said to make Jackson angry enough to inflict that much damage and to make Lisa seem too scared to tell him? He stared at her, seeing if she would continue. "Ask him," she relented. "I'm sure he'd rather you hear it from him, not me." He nodded. Fair enough. The two sat in silence, staring at Cheryl.

"He thinks he's a monster," Lisa said quietly, breaking the silence. She pulled her knees close to her chest. "He's been saying it for days. I thought he was just trying to scare me, but he believes it."

Caleb nodded, sighing. He wished that he could rewind life back to three weeks ago, before any of this had happened. Things were easier then- the past wasn't being constantly dragged to the surface. "I know," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's been like that since Dad died." Lisa frowned, turning to face him.

"Really?" she asked, confused. "He told me what happened."

Caleb smiled grimly. "Charming story, isn't it?" He took another drink. "Jackson's an artist with reality," he admitted sarcastically. What an understatement. "He can rewrite events and people without a problem." He lit a cigarette, waving his free hand absently. "It's a coping mechanism, I think. I don't know." And he really didn't want to get into it. He should have kept his mouth shut.

Lisa rested her chin on her knees. "So it wasn't like he said? I mean, I sort of figured that he felt more guilty about it than he says...that's pretty obvious."

Caleb sighed. He couldn't very well tell her to drop it now. He twisted around, glancing at the bedroom door. The shower was still running. "Alright," he said, dropping his voice even lower. "Let me get this all out before you ask questions." Lisa smiled slightly, which threw Caleb for a moment. He didn't see what was so amusing. She nodded. "Our dad wasn't the saint that Jackson makes him out to be- before the accident, I mean. He drank, and he could get mean. Mostly to our mom."

Lisa raised her eyebrows in surprise, but remained silent. Caleb fidgeted, trying to figure out the short version. Even though Jackson had told Lisa what he remembered happening, Caleb still didn't feel like it was his place to tell her the real events.

"But that was rare. I guess for the most part, he just wasn't around," he continued. "But when he was around, he wasn't a very nice guy." He took a drag of his cigarette. "I'm smoking way too much," he remarked, staring at the drug. He saw Lisa roll her eyes and nod. Hippie. "Fuck...anyway, it didn't get physical until after the accident. Before that, he was always putting us down. We were never good enough for him." He glanced at Lisa, who was practically raising her hand. "What?" he asked, sighing.

"Why does Jackson say he was a great dad?" Lisa asked quickly. Good question.

"Because he loved our dad, and wanted to be loved, I guess," he replied. "I mean, he never told me so, but that's my best guess. He was always trying to give Dad reasons to like him- going to the range, watching the same movies, listening to the same music. He used to talk about wanting to be a cop." Caleb had mostly given up trying to win their dad's affection by the time they reached double digits- he just tried to stay out of the man's way. But Jackson was unrelenting until after the accident. It was almost as though his brother had finally realized who their dad was, but he had blamed it on the accident, refusing to see James Rippner as anyone other than a hero who was destroyed by a horrible incident.

"So he thinks he's a monster because he killed him?" Lisa asked, pulling Caleb from his thoughts.

He shrugged. "Either that or because he never got that approval, so he won't be happy himself. Or because he still knows the truth and he's scared that he's turning into him." Caleb shrugged. "There are lots of possibilities, and he's not talking."

Lisa took the bottle from Caleb's hands, and took a drink. "Is he?" she asked, resting her cheek on her knees and looking at him.

"Like Dad?" he asked, taking a drag from the cigarette. Lisa nodded. Caleb sighed, bouncing his heels on the carpet. "In a way, I guess," he replied, frowning with uncertainty. "Not really, though." Jackson wasn't an asshole. He cared about the people close to him in his own weird way, but he was also good at his job. Putting the job above his own life was really the only thing Jackson did that reminded Caleb of James.

He looked over at Lisa, who was staring at him with that familiar questioning expression on her face. Surprisingly, she remained silent, even after Caleb raised his eyebrows, signaling that was finished and she was free to comment.

"What?" he finally asked, dropping his cigarette in Jeff's old bottle.

Lisa chewed her lip nervously. Was she afraid to talk to him? Obviously, they didn't know each other well at all, but Caleb assumed they were in the kind of position that allowed for a breach of typical social norms. "You can ask me."

"I get what you're saying about your dad, and I guess it makes sense," Lisa began after a few more moments of silence. "I don't get what happened with your mom, though. Why wouldn't she want to see you?"

"Didn't we already go over this?" The two jumped in surprise at the sound of Jackson's voice from behind them. Caleb hadn't even noticed that the shower had turned off or that Jackson had opened the door.

Jackson stood in the doorway wearing only a towel, and he did not look pleased. "I could have sworn that we did," he added coldly, grabbing his bag from next to the couch. "Maybe I have a weird case of amnesia." He walked back into the bedroom, but they could still hear him talking. "Makes sense, though. Apparently I don't know my own father."

Caleb rose to his feet and walked into the bedroom, motioning for the already-standing Lisa to stay with Cheryl. He shut the door behind him. "How long were you listening?" he asked nervously. The last time they attempted to have this conversation was when they were 19, and it had resulted in a dorm room brawl, after which Jackson refused to speak to him for a few days.

Jackson tossed the duffel onto Jeff's bed and rummaged through it. "I'm afraid that I'm turning into Dad?" he asked. He scoffed. "You chose the wrong profession, Caleb. You and Lisa would have made one hell of a psychiatric team." He pulled a set of clothes out of the bag. "Kind of ironic that you have spare time to analyze me when your personal lives are less than fantastic."

Caleb leaned against the door, crossing his arms. He swallowed hard, choosing not to respond to Jackson's last jab. "What do you expect when you refuse to let anyone in?" he asked defensively. "Lisa has been stuck in a car with you for days. I've been stuck with you for twenty-eight years. Actually talking to you doesn't get us very far, so we fill in the gaps. It's just how we amuse ourselves, I guess."

Jackson dropped his towel. "Fair enough," he responded flatly. Caleb relaxed- apparently Jackson wasn't in the mood for a fight. Must be too tired. He twisted his wedding ring absently, watching his brother pull on his jeans.

"Do we have a plan yet?" he asked, changing the subject. Jackson nodded, pulling on one of Caleb's t-shirts.

"Ben said that Robert's going to hide at the King of Diamonds, so we're going to have to get him out. We have three of his men on our side, against Robert and two more. I figure I just have to get him out, and his men will follow." He ran his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it back. I figure he'll try to take me somewhere since there's too much security there, and that's it."

"I'm coming," Caleb told him. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't open to debate.

Jackson carried the towel into the bathroom, and walked out again. "No," he replied, apparently not agreeing. Caleb held fast.

"This is personal," he insisted. "I'm coming. You know I can help, and then it will be four on three." He approached his brother, who had crossed his arms in defiance. "You can't use guns, so you need as many people as you can get."

"We're going to kill them," Jackson reminded him. "Pretty sure that violates your oath." Caleb clenched his jaw.

"It's more of a tradition than a contract," he replied, attempting to add a little levity. Jackson wasn't fooled, and stared at him skeptically. "Come on," Caleb insisted, embarrassed to find that his words came out as a whine. "It's a huge advantage. Send me in, as you. You can catch them off-guard when we come out."

When Jackson remained silent, he continued. "You said they'll take you somewhere else, right? Send Ben a text and tell him to leave the second car unlocked. Or Jeff can break in. You hide in the second car, and Ben can make sure that our guys are the only ones that get in." He dropped onto the bed. "Or if one of Robert's guys get in, you can threaten them into silence. When we get to wherever, you can attack Robert then."

Jackson raised his eyebrows, dropping next to his brother. "You'll be in the middle of it," he replied, sounding concerned. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Caleb drummed his fingers on his knees. "Yes," he insisted, wishing that he were as confident as he sounded. "I want to help you. What if something happens and you get killed? And I just sat here?" He conveniently didn't mention that he was describing the same situation that they had been in for the last five years. Finally, Jackson nodded.

"You'll have to clean up," he remarked, teasing Caleb. "If you're going to pass as me, you have to be a lot more refined." Caleb laughed.

"You're a philistine compared to me," he replied, feigning indignation. He sifted through Jackson's bag, folding the clothes that had been crammed inside. "What did Cheryl say?" he finally asked hesitantly. After seeing Cheryl's face, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"She doesn't love you anymore," Jackson replied, running his hands through his hair again and walking away from the bed. Caleb scowled, glaring at his brother's back.

"Obviously," he snapped. "And?" Did Jackson really think he was that stupid?

"And apparently you were her second choice," Jackson replied, leaning against the dresser. Caleb crossed his arms, skeptically eyeing him. He knew all of this. It still didn't explain why Jackson had lost his cool. Were they supposed to just pretend that he hadn't come storming into the bedroom less than half an hour earlier? Why couldn't they just talk?

"You aren't going to tell me, are you?" he said, hanging his head. He didn't know why he bothered talking to Jackson sometimes. He quickly stood up, defeated. For his part, Jackson remained silent, an unreadable expression on his face. Caleb quickly ran a hand through his hair. "Hopefully this will be over soon, and we can go back to being half a country apart." He sighed. "It's just better that way."

Jackson's face dropped, and he stood up straight again. He opened his mouth, but closed it with a deep sigh, clenching his jaw. Caleb stared right back at him. He wanted to back down, apologize, but he was tired of pretending that Jackson's behavior wasn't a big deal to him. He wanted his brother to hurt as much as he did.

"I'm doing you a favor," Jackson finally spat, leaning back against the dresser again. Caleb could see that he wanted to say more, but was holding back. He had the familiar posture- the hunched, defensive shoulders, his eyes turned to the ground.

"It's not your job to protect me anymore," Caleb murmured, walking to stand next to Jackson. He leaned against the dresser, also staring at the carpet. "Why can't we watch each others' backs? You know...mutually?" He stole a sideways glance at his brother, who finally turned his head toward him.

Jackson narrowed his eyes, thinking. He barely nodded, lifting his eyes to meet Caleb's. "But you have to be serious," he responded, analyzing his brother. "You can't just back down when the heat's on."

Caleb scoffed, slightly offended. "Is that what you think?" he asked bitterly, looking at the floor again. "I just ran away when it got too hard? I thought about it for over a year before I left." He dug his shoe into the carpet. "But this is different. This is personal, and not because it's Cheryl. It's you, and Lisa, and obviously Lisa is important to you – I'm not blind," he interrupted himself when he saw Jackson about to speak. "I'm doing it for you. Bottom line. And then I'm done – back to Minnesota and a normal life."

Caleb walked away from the dresser and ran a hand through his hair again. He turned to look at Jackson. "You should have told me," he accused. He couldn't understand why Jackson would choose to keep it from him.

Jackson snorted. "Yeah, that makes sense. 'Hey Caleb, sorry about your wife, we totally need to think of a plan to kill a bunch of people – oh, and Lisa and I are kind of starting a relationship maybe.'" He grinned. "One of these things is not like the others, one of these things doesn't belong–"

"Oh shut up," Caleb interrupted, grinning in spite of himself. "I see your point...so," he began carefully, "what did she say?" Jackson shook his head.

"Just a lot of crazy bullshit," he replied casually. "And I didn't appreciate it."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "You potentially gave her a zygomatic fracture because you didn't appreciate her bullshit?"

Jackson nodded. "I have anger issues. It's a real problem." He grinned again. "And your jargon doesn't impress me."

Caleb threw up his hands in exaggerated defeat. "Alright, fine. I'll stop asking." If Jackson was this insistent, he was probably better off not knowing. "And I'll get you some Xanax." The two brothers turned toward the bedroom door, hearing Jeff enter the house again.

"You know," Jackson said, sobered. "I could be wrong about what's going to happen tonight. It could be a trap, and if I send you in, you could get killed. Or they could kill you in the car. Or any number of other things, really."

Caleb nodded, and glanced back at his brother. "I know," he replied simply, and walked out of the bedroom. He knew that he was doing the right thing by joining the fight, and he was trying to come across as calm about it, but secretly, he was terrified of what that night and the next few days would bring. He wasn't worried about being killed- he was worried about what he would become with a weapon in his hands again.

For those of you who never saw Sesame Street in the 70s, here is where Jackson's "one of these things" line came from: www. youtube watch?v=Ect-kgxBb4M.

So, my beta is M.I.A., and I love having someone to talk to when I'm writing. If you're interested in having ideas bounced off of you, I love Skyping with people (I have a few readers added already). If you're interested, please send me a PM.

Finally, in chapter 22, there will be blood. For real. Promise.

R&R or Cheryl will survive them all. I'm serious. :D