Somewhere Just Outside Nexus

Present Day

Do you know what it's like to lose everything? Everything you've ever loved? Everything you've ever known? Do you know what it's like to lose everything? I hope you never find out. Life's been hell since E-Day. But…do you know what it's like to get back everything you thought you lost? Everything you lived for? Everything you love?
I hope one day I find out."

— Dominic Santiago's thoughts on the loss of his own family while rescuing another.

Hope was evil. It seduced you, and then dumped you on your ass so hard and so fast you were worse off than when you began.

The first thing I noticed was the smell. The stench of rotting flesh and human filth emanated from the cell, turning my stomach. The odor quickly distributed through the stout tunnel, deflecting off the wintry stone of the tunnels and assaulting us twice as strongly. She had to have been locked away for days, if not weeks, for that to happen. Left to die in her own filth, like a caged animal. I wanted to turn away from the reeking cell before I vomited, but I forced my feet to lie still against the icy rocks. This woman had endured the unendurable. To turn away from her as if she were trash would be colder than I could bring myself to be. Right now, she deserved help and understanding - not being shunned by those of her own kind; of her own blood, unlike the locust bastards.

A ghastly figure fell ungracefully from the cell, collapsing into Dom's arms in a crumpled heap. The torn and tortured flesh dripped off her emaciated figure in blackened and tormented strips; evidence of long-term abuse at the hands of the locust. She was balding, her short malnourished scraps of sheared hair falling into her face and hiding the features that lay behind the curtain.

The only one not affected by the smell was Dom. He held her close to him, tight against his armored chest. "Maria…" he whispered again, his voice raspy and hoarse with unshed tears. "God, I love you…"

"Dom…" Marcus breathed, his voice low with disbelief. I turned to see those mad-dog eyes entrapped upon the dark figure's face, running again and again over the scars wrenched upon her face and body. The scattered strips of fabric barely clung to her skeletal form, revealing more tortured and tormented flesh beneath. The red and angry edges of wounds were left open and untreated, most still leaking black blood in the dim light of the tunnel. The old man's words echoed ominously in the frozen corners of my mind as my eyes latched upon the inflamed and swollen skin of her back and arms. They string you up through giant hooks in your back; whip you with metal chains with spikes. Some are dipped into vats of burning imulsion, held there until their flesh melts off their bones…

I could hear the agonized, soft moans of pain that shuddered their way from her throat. It was a lonesome, keening sound that tore at the soul and ripped at the heart. The sorrowful cries barely made a sound; just echoing, breathy whimpers that spoke volumes of the pained and broken spirit held caged within the shattered, lonely prison that was her body. Dom turned at Marcus' voice, wondering what could have been so damned important to interrupt their reunion. Dom's brown eyes reflected the shallow light for just a second, not focusing upon anything before he turned back to the dark figure in his arms.

It was then I realized that something was very, very, wrong.

He wrenches back from her, as if he doesn't recognize the broken body within his arms. The expression on his face shifts instantaneously from one of blessed content, to one of abject horror. She almost falls away from him without his strong arms underneath her, supporting her, but he catches her at the last second and holds her gingerly before him. His eyes are finally opened to the truth, to the scarred and broken woman that had been his object of fixation for ten long, long, years. He takes in the ripped flesh that now adorns her once-perfect skin, the wounds and lesions that attest to excruciatingly painful torture sessions for the sadistic pleasure of the locust. "Oh…no…no!" he moans quietly. "No…no, no, no, baby…no, no, no, no!"

Her head falls back limply upon her weakened neck, as if she lacks enough strength to hold it upright. Dom pulls her back to him yet again, fighting to keep her with him, to bring her back to him. "What did they do to you?" He makes a horrible, agonized sob of absolute anguish; pain lined into every aspect of his face. Sorrow contorts his features, taking away every trace of happiness and hope and faith that had been ever-present in his demeanor since the moment I'd met him. His eyes, once chocolate brown, have been transformed to flat ebony. They are wide with disbelief, unable to look away from the nightmare placed before him.

"I'm so sorry!" he chokes out, his voice rough with agony and sobs. Silver tears track their way down his face; he doesn't even notice. He rocks on his knees, unable to hold still against the unending waves of pain. Maria rocks with him, pulled by the arms still supporting her bony frame. Her milky, blind eyes are restless, flickering back and forth, settling upon nothing. She is unaware that her husband, her beloved, is only inches away. It matters not; he is too late. She is too far gone, too far in the grips of torture-fed insanity, her mind as scarred as the twisted and bleeding flesh of her broken body.

And there - under her left eye - is a little, innocuous, crescent-shaped scar.

They cut you, the old man's voice whispers again, echoing coldly around our silent group. The tunnel is silent; the frozen stones holding their breath as the world came crashing down around us. They've got a machine. It cuts into your brain. Erases your memories, your personality, makes you a mindless slave to the locust. And there's not a thing you can do to prevent it.

There's not a way in the world to reverse it.

The world froze around us, all time coming to a complete and total stop. Nothing existed outside this moment, this place. Nothing mattered anymore accept the dying woman Dom held in his arms. He sobbed softly for the way it was before; for the woman from his memory. She was lost to him now, alone and beyond the reach of us mere mortals.

"Ah, God…Maria!" he pleaded yet again, his voice echoing his lost and wounded heart. She continued her lonely moaning, the soft breaths of pain slipping from her scarred and tortured throat. She wasn't aware of them - wasn't aware of anything - as she was still imprisoned in her own personal hell of abject horror and agony.

Inside me, the very fabric of the universe was shredding at the seams. Everything I knew about the world - knew about myself - was being torn from me with each aching breath my body forced my lungs to take. It didn't matter that I was still breathing, my heart still beating…not when the bedrock of my existence was shattered beyond repair. My knees quaked and gave out. I fell upon them, not even realizing or recognizing the sharp sting of pain that shot up through nerve endings, through neurotransmitters and minute fibers that made up my existence. None of it mattered anymore. It was just simple biology; simple mechanics that kept the human body alive, even when the soul had been ripped from it...even when you were desperate for the sweet release that came only with the eternal darkness.

I reached slowly into the cloth pocket of my pack. Numb fingers twisted around cold metal, coiling around a thin, delicate chain. I slowly pulled it out, draping the small, child-sized locket around my scarred and calloused hands. It had been a gift so long ago, yet now if felt like only yesterday. I mentally scraped away the effect time had wreaked upon it; the oxidation and rust of the cheap metal, the weathering effect upon the picture…and eagerly devoured the beautiful face printed upon the picture. She was the most beautiful woman in the world; she was my mother. I compared the small picture of the smiling woman to the emaciated skeleton sitting in front of me. I had recognized her immediately; needing only a glance at the small picture in the locket I carried to make sure the impossible was happening.

The woman before me…the woman in the picture… they were one and the same.

My eyes hungrily searched out this lost woman's features; scanned her face for any hints, any signs of recognition at all. I searched for her, past the brittle and torn flesh, past the agony permanently etched upon her, past this misplaced heart that had broken so many lives – past and present. Against all odds, we had found her. We had found her, and yet we would never have her. We could see her, but not touch. We could hear, but not speak. We could love, but not be loved in return.

We could be found, but be forever lost.

"Goddamnit, its Dominic!" he entreated her again, but to no avail. His pleading cries fell upon deaf ears, straining to reach a plane of the galaxy that did not exist to us - not yet. She was a thousand miles away from us, a broken chaos leaving behind only scattered splinters of the woman she once was. This sad truth ripped at me from within, tearing me into two separate pieces. It was too much for me; too much for one body, one mind, one heart. It was breaking me, as sure as I had been broken before. It was unbearable; this dividing of self that wrenched me apart. I tried to scream, but found I had no breath to do so. Tried to cry, but tears were unreachable. Tried to run, but could not find the strength.

I tried to fall, but there was nothing there to catch me. I was completely alone; just vapor in this frozen world. I never was, never would be. My life was a lie, my existence a fraud. I had stolen this life so long ago, and everything came rushing back in painful clarity.

I had been so young... could I plead ignorance? Too young to die, to be snuffed out along with so many others…and yet I had been selfish. I alone had survived, and I had chosen to murder myself. Suppressed by childish fear of death, I had allowed myself to fade away, to allow another to take my place. By running from death, I had succumbed to it.

I had chosen Life.

I had chosen Bri.

Dom's shuddering gasp interrupted me, dragging me back from the brink. I couldn't look, couldn't see… yet I saw his pain, heard his agony. What was the point in perceiving, when I could not speak, could not change this painful exchange of torturous agony? My life had changed nothing - my being was meaningless - as I could not stop this one moment of time, could not roll back continuation. "It's me!" he pleaded with the corpse in front of him again. "It's Dominic!"

It's… "Mom…" I gasped through the diaphanous barrier that lay between me and the rest of the world. It was liberating, to speak to – through – the world again. I had been awakened, brought back to consciousness from the cataclysmic event occurring before me. I had been Returned, yet I had never left. Just…gone for a while. As my mother had been gone, but now she was Returned to me, and all was it should be. It was as if nothing had ever happened; no endless stretch of time had passed since the last time we saw each other. Our time as a family had been brief - only a short four years - but the strength of a mother's love could not fade, could not been doused by the ocean of time.

Suddenly, I was four-years-old again, such a child – young and innocent, and untouched by the evils of life. My mother was with me again, erasing all the bad in the world, if only for this one moment. I wanted to go to her, to be held safe and sound in her arms as I had done so many years ago – like I had done only minutes ago. Time did not matter. Not anymore. Not as Sylvia.

A fraction of my scattered mind, untouched by something as trivial as names or titles, still analyzed the situation without bias. Who still saw the scarred and battered flesh. Who still watched as Dom wept for his beloved, who slipped farther away from him, even as he clutched her to his chest. Who knew that no matter what, Maria wasn't going to walk away from this.

Who realized, that if Maria was Dom's wife, and Maria was my mother, than I must be Dom's daug-

We wouldn't– couldn't – follow that thought to completion.

We heard Marcus stir from somewhere to the left. Marcus – another someone from our past. He stood behind Dom; a quiet, insurmountable force. He left himself there as simple reassurance and comfort. He rested a gloved hand upon Dom's shoulder– we traced the movement with our eyes – and we saw Dom whip around, looking for someone to make it alright.

Just like a child, he needed someone to keep away the demons at night. To keep the nightmares at bay. Bri had been that someone for me, as I had lost my protection from the dark side of the night when my family perished before my eyes. "Marcus!" Dom pleaded, voice wild with pain and worry. "I-I don't know what to do, man! I don't know what to do! She-" he couldn't complete his frantic cries, couldn't focus enough to force the meaningless words out. Nothing that was said was going to change anything, so what was the point?

"Dom," Marcus said softly. We saw his hand tighten upon Dom's shoulder, trying to convey strength. The act was strange to us. Why attempt reassurance when everything was fine? I was with my parents at long last – nothing could ever change that now. In fact, this was the most fine I had felt for years, for an eternity. I was alive, my parents were alive. A huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, giving me a lightness that I had not experienced before. I was not responsible for their death after all.

Marcus said something else to Dom, but it was lost to us. It mattered not – words were weak and useless things, unable to convey so much, unable to change a thing. Words did nothing to change the set order of things, nor to reverse what was set in order. Reassuring smiles, a pat on the head, a warm embrace…these were the things that mattered. For years we had accepted the fact that our mother, father, and brother were dead. For years we pretended that it didn't hurt, but it did. Just as Maria had scars imprinted upon her body, I had scars imprinted upon my mind. I was just as broken, just as tormented by time. People were not meant to be alone, to be abandoned by the ones they loved. Life had been hell since E-day. Drowning in the misery of being Bane's personal servant, forced to be self-sufficient at an infantile age, I had retreated to the recesses of my own mind. Bri had been a way to hide, to separate myself from the world. Everything I could not handle; the pain, the fear, the all-consuming anger… Bri had handled it for me. Without her, I could not be whole, but with her, I was broken.

I wanted to go to Maria, to be held by her, but Bri held my feet still. Bri examined the situation analytically, rationally. Her eyes whispered over the pair before us, took in the situation, analyzed it, and came up with a game plan to be executed. She was emotionless, a scientist simply observing. I died before her, as she would not release me. I was wanting, desiring, yearning to be with them…but she denied me. It was not callous, but necessary. After all, people were not intentionally harmful to lab rats. Only she could understand, comprehend, what was happening and where this would go. Where this had to end.

I strained to be free from her, but I could not completely let go. She was forever a part of me, like it or not. Still, I was distracted, overcome with my need to be held. My body craved it, required it. Acute need demanded it. "I am so sorry, Maria," I heard Dom whisper, and my head tilted to the side, uncomprehending. What was there to be sorry for? We were together again; all was well. A smile twitched my lips as I fought Bri for control. I was Sylvia now; an innocent child caught in a woman's body, who never had the chance to be whole. Young in age and experience, I let my guard down. Nothing could hurt me now, not here.

Bri screamed for me to turn and run, to flee this place before she could be lost forever. I refused her orders, finally strong enough to stand on my own. I relinquished a hand from her iron grip, reaching towards them. My lips moved again, forming the word, "Mommy…" Every movement was sluggish, labored. I crawled forward on my knees, feeling the skin scrape against the cold, inflexible rocks. I tried to call out again, but I could not. My world was silenced before me as I sat there, a curious audience.

Dom pressed his head against her forehead, drenching her face with his tears. "I love you…so much," he said to her, the desperation gone from his voice. Bri rattled against me, screaming for me to turn around, to flee before I could be hurt yet again. For once, I ignored her advice, so captivated was I by the sight of my family. I could not see enough, devour enough of their faces. I didn't see the torn and ripped flesh upon her face, nor her sheared and deadened hair. I tore my gaze from the little trinket in my palm, and back up to my parents. I grinned, getting to my feet, preparing to greet them for the first time in fifteen years.

I didn't see the gun come up, but Bri did.

Everything froze into place. The bullet casing left the gun in slow motion, as if it would take a million years to reach the ground. The open prison door was sprayed red with blood, drop by drop. The gun hit the ground, escaping from a limp hand. A murderous hand. Her cooling body slipped from his arms, making a wet slap as she hit the stone floor. Her final resting place. How convenient that we were already underground. My heartbeat pounded in my chest, in my ears, in my mind. Ka-thump. The only sound I could hear, representing so much. Ka-thump. Maria's motionless body, covered with fresh blood and brain matter. Ka-thump. Dom's rocking form, sobbing silent tears. A contrite murderer. Ka-thump. I didn't hear the gunshot, which a corner of my mind found darkly amusing. A silent, quick death. Could any of us really ask for more?

A soft, keening sound. A bleating refrain of agony. A ripping scream strangled into silence. It took me a moment – a week, a year, a lifetime – to realize all of these sounds came from me. From the serrated and separate pieces of my soul.

Just the sound of my heart, breaking once more.

Dom bends over her motionless form, retrieving something from around her neck. A trophy, a memorial, a fucking medal….I didn't care. I tried to scramble to my feet, but my legs felt weak, limp. Like they were attached by frayed thread. Ka-thump. She was gone. She was gone. I had found her, and lost her, and killed her all in a matter of seconds. Ka-thump. The inevitable strikes again. To be loved by me was the kiss of death.

I had to get away, far away from this place before I killed anyone else. Ka-thump. By sheer force of will, a foot moved, braced against the ground. It pushed, and another foot caught the shifting weight before I fell. Ka-thump. I was a flaccid corpse rising from the ashes. A new body rising out of the earth. A murderer taking a life in order to live. A woman named Bri.

"No…no…no…no," I could hear someone bleating in an agonized refrain. It took me a second to realize it was me. It was quiet, just a breathless whisper of the damned, but it was enough to capture Marcus' attention. I didn't – couldn't – see him until he was literally right in from of me, standing before me, shaking me slightly. His wide palms were pressed unfeelingly on my shoulders. I could feel the pressure - hard enough to bruise - but not the pain. Everything paled against the gaping hole within my chest. He pulled me away from the nightmare, bodily turning me away from my mother until I had no choice but to meet his glacier-blue eyes.

His mouth was moving in a familiar pattern, saying something that I could not understand. It took every ounce of my being to focus enough to figure out what he was saying. Even then, I could only comprehend one word. "…Sylvia…"

Just then, a realization hit me with the force of a ton of bricks. He had known. He fucking knew. Suddenly, everything made sense. His shocked expression when we first met outside the abandoned research facility, New Hope. His leading questions about my family and heritage. The silent moments that I'd caught him staring at me. He had put it all together, recognizing me the moment we had ran into each other. He had known, and yet he remained silent. The absolute betrayal struck me hard, as if he had physically thrown a punch that landed heavily upon the broken shards of my heart.

"You…you knew…" I tried to scream it at him, but the words caught around the lump in my throat and came out as a strangled whisper. His face set into even deeper lines of granite, and he didn't answer. He kept his glacier-blue eyes upon mine as he bodily moved me backwards, using his grip on my shoulders to maneuver me. A part of me wanted to jerk away from him, unable to handle his bracing touch. But I was still struck dumb by the betrayal – the hurt – of Marcus not telling me what I should have known. Blindly, I had allowed myself to trust in him, allowed myself to believe that these…these men actually cared about me. "Why?" I rasped out, eyes wide and brimming with more unshed tears. "Why?"

I didn't know what I wanted him to say; didn't know what I was so desperate to hear. Even if Marcus understood – knew what to say to ease my agony – he remained silent. I think that was what hurt the most. He still tried to push me away from my mother's corpse and her murderer, but I yanked myself away. I couldn't force myself to look back down the tunnel, where the fresh crime scene lay. I had to get away, had to leave this place before I exploded. "Sylvia, please, just listen-" he said to me, reaching for me. I punched him in the face – mostly out of desperation - and he backed away, looking shocked. That made two of us.

"No," I said to him, and I managed to ignore how my voice trembled, on the edge of breaking. The locket – my locket, the one I had held tight to for years – slipped through my numb fingers, clattering to the floor. I had found my family, my parents, only to lose one to death and one to betrayal in a matter of minutes.

"You monster!" I gasped out, unable to break past the stifling silence of the tunnel. I had to struggle for every sound I made; force it out around a throat that felt like it was cinched closed. He reached for me one more time, but I fought him. I shoved against his chest, kicking out at him at the same time. The ferocity of my struggle surprised him. He lost his hold on me, and I half fell into a crouch on the uneven stone beneath me.

I sprang up from the crouch and ran.

"Bri?" I heard Dom – my mother's murderer – call out, sounding shocked and confused. His voice grated upon me, sending shivers down my arms. I could still hear the tears in his rough voice, and the innocence with which he spoke disgusted me. As if he could still pretend he didn't know – as if he was clueless to my being his.

"Let her go," I could barely hear Marcus now, their voices fading with every frantic stretch of my legs beneath me. I had to get away – far away. It sounded like they were struggling now, wrestling.

Of course they were fighting. They were COG. Violence was pleasure to them.

I sprinted back through the same tunnel Sam had led us down. This was the second time I had raced down the corridor – the last time in joy, this time in anguish. It was hard to remember how I had felt only minutes ago when we had found her; everything was dark and gruesome now, tainted by knowing how I had aided and abetted the pair of murderers. The very stones seemed evil. The darkness was cloying without the dim light from the gear's armor. Could I really have celebrated with them, enjoyed being with them only so short a time ago? Believed the smiles on their faces, not seeing the beasts underneath…

I ran to the farthest end of the tunnel, into the deep blackness. Over the sound of my breathing, I could hear soft panting beside me, a pair of footfalls echoing besides my own. I almost stumbled to a stop, my boots slipping over some loose rocks, before I realized it was Sam. Ever faithful, ever present Sam. I was undeserving of her loyalty, more now than ever before. Still, it was almost comforting to have her beside me.

I ran farther and farther into the night, becoming increasingly disoriented amidst the endless acres of prisons and tunnels. I was getting completely and totally lost – the better not to be found. I ran forward until I stumbled ankle-deep into the oily waters of an underground stream. I backed away, my hand outstretched, searching for a wall. My searching fingers found a rough ridge of stone, sharp-edged beneath my palms – I turned into the depression behind the protrusion and curled myself into a tight ball on the ground. Tears slipped from my eyes and ran down my cold face like blood dripping down iron.

Sam came up to me, trying to lick my damp face. "Get away from me!" I roared at her, shoving her back. She skittered backwards, unharmed but very surprised. I couldn't handle her offer of comfort. It was easy to get rid of her, as easy as it should have been from the very beginning.

It was only me now. Me and the knowledge that would not leave me, not ever. Just me, and the pain and the horror that I would never escape. I would never not have that image in my head again. I would never be free of it. It was forever a part of me.

I wrapped my arms tightly around my shoulders and mourned. My mother. My family. I wanted to cry, to keen in misery, but I was Bri now. I locked my lips and hunched in the darkness, holding the pain inside. I slipped quickly and easily behind my façade, hiding behind the animosity of being Bri. This way, I could pretend it wasn't real, that it wasn't actually happening. It was the same protective measures I had used so long ago, when I had watched my brother and best friend cruelly murdered before my eyes. I separated myself from the pain, allowing 'Bri' to handle everything I could not.

I could just imagine how humorous they all found the situation. This cute little Stranded girl, eagerly tagging along beside them, managing to delude herself into thinking that she was a part of their team. I could see them wondering how long it would take me to figure out that I was just a waste of time, just a plaything to be used and tossed aside. What had Cole called me, so long ago, when I was enjoying breakfast with these monsters? A mascot – that was all I'd ever been to them. This betrayal just stacked upon the others, physically weighing me down so that I pressed tightly against the sharp rock at my back.

But…how long had I deluded myself into believing my family was dead; stubbornly and resolutely refusing to entertain any thought of them being alive somewhere, living life without me? And before today, I hadn't had any family. And now I didn't, again. I might as well have just pulled the trigger myself.

But…I hadn't. That blame rested solely upon his shoulders. He didn't even try, didn't save her. Why wasn't he here earlier? Why did he let the grubs have her? If he claimed to love her so much, why did he allow her to die in his arms?

What was it Bane had said to me minutes before he died? A life for a life. I'd used his twisted philosophy to settle so much in my life; even when I had just began following Delta, trying to decide if saving Baird's life meant I was worthy to try and save my own. The evidence of my indulgence - the sharp, tender stitches - still rested within the flesh of my stomach. A life for a life: the universal truth that kept the world within balance.

One death equaled another.

A life for a life.

The debt must be repaid.

I had no idea how long I sat there in the darkness, curled into myself. Once this evident truth rose to consciousness, I stirred. I felt blindly for the filthy COG lancer that I had dropped when I had hit the water. My fingers traced the sharp teeth of the chainsaw so it cut into the cold skin of my fingers. How fitting that their beloved weapon would be the one to kill them.

I rose slowly, a plan forming within the scarred corners of my mind. Their little side quest completed, they would continue on to Nexus. They would regroup with Cole and Baird, completing their little treacherous group.

I had cried enough useless tears. Now…now was the time for vengeance.

So many gears would die within the locust capital city, what was four more? In truth, there was only one life I wanted to take - that of my father.

I heard canine toenails scrape against the stone ground, and instinctively clicked my fingers for Sam. She gave my fingers an apology lick, and I stroked her soft fur. I silently apologized for pushing her away, and she accepted it without hesitation.

The absolute, undying love of an animal. So much better than a human. I would need her help as I tracked Delta to Nexus for this last battle. So much would finally come to an end there.

I blindly started forward, reassured by Sam's warm presence pressed against my leg. As I headed back down the black tunnel that led towards Nexus, there were two things in the world that I was absolutely sure about.

Dominic Santiago was my father.

And he would pay for murdering my mother.


Author's Note – Finally, the truth is revealed. What did you think? Was it what you expected? More? Not even close? I wanna know what you guys think. What do you think Bri will do when she sees Dom and Marcus in Nexus? Will she make good on her threat?

Huge thanks go out to rockforthecross74 for betaing this! My writing could not be what it is without her excellent input, and she really is a godsend. This story would never be here without her, so make sure to head to her page and give her some love! She deserves it, and so much more! :D

So, this chapter is especially important to me for a couple reasons. First off, A Father's Love celebrated its one year anniversary! :D I have a long history of beginning projects, and then never finishing them. I think that this shows that (hopefully) it's starting to change. Would you believe that when I first began this story, I was thinking it would be a quick little seven-chapter fic and I would be done? Now, thirteen chapters later, I have so much more I want to do with this, and even have a sequel in the works!

Once again, I want to thank all of my readers and reviewers. You guys are the ones who give me the inspiration to wake up at three in the morning and finish an important chapter. I'm so thankful for all of you sticking with me up until this point, and I hope you weren't disappointed with the Big Reveal chapter. I know sometimes it felt like we'd never get there, but it looks like we've made it! (Look how far we've come, my baby!)

Okay, before this dissolves into an eighty's power ballad, I should probably wrap this up. A huge heart felt thank you again to all of you reading (and reviewing? :D) this. You have no idea how much it means to me! :D Stay tuned for more crazy adventures with Bri, and to see if she and Dom develop a father-daughter relationship.

Leave a review, telegram, smoke signals, message in a bottle, or one of those creepy-psycho notes with the letters cut out from magazines telling me what you think! You'll get a preview of the next chapter, and my absolute undying thanks! :D