I can’t begin to tell you how much I love this fic. I’ve read everything you’ve written and beta’d about 95% of it (at least by word count), so I think I know whereof I speak when I say that this may be the best thing you’ve ever written. Josef may be in your heart, but Mick is in your head – big time. Or, more accurately, you’re in his.
I know from experience how you rise to the occasion when someone throws you a tidbit of an idea, and I have to say
coco handed you prime filet with this one. And I know her input and questions helped forge this piece into what it is.
There is so much to love here, from the overall plot to the tiny details, but what really jumps out at me is Mick’s voice. This is not 2008, post-rescue Mick. Well, it was, as the story began, but it slid back into an edgier 1980’s Mick, so true to what he was at that time. You bring us back to where he was emotionally then – he’s Mick but not quite the Mick we know.
A few passages that set the tone:
And hey, my friend Josef might have had enough scratch to keep hot running freshies living in, but back then, I was struggling. Living and working out of a combo office/apartment in a third floor walkup whose greatest charm was the fact that the neighbors never stayed long enough to notice that the guy in 3B didn’t seem to get any older.
... Maybe his sights were a hair off. Who knows, but the result was that instead of having his brains splattered across my couch, Marcin Borkowski was going to be waking up. He might have a bitch of a headache, but I’m guessing it beat the alternative.
So the situation had gotten fragile. Normally, I wouldn’t worry about a man with a gun. Even two. But I did have some scruples about getting Marcin shot. Especially if Josef had been grabbed. Besides, it’s bad form to let a client die. Tends to have a negative impact on future clients.
And then there’s the reason – Josef.
I’d always said I’d never take the choice from someone, the way it was taken from me. For thirty-three years, I’d raged against the vampire inside, and cursed my condition. Now, I was at a crossroads. Marcin was dying, and if he did, he would take with him my last chance to find Josef. I didn’t have hours or days to think this over, to reason it out. It was Josef, my mentor, my friend, the one who had pulled me back from the brink of madness more times than I could count…or Marcin, who had come into my office a couple of hours ago. And who was dead no matter what I did…
And you leave us with no doubt that Mick’s choice was justified:
About then, Josef lifted his head and snarled in the blond vampire’s face. I could see from my vantage point that he was fully vamped out, and knowing his iron control, it told me just how bad the situation was for him.
And these two very powerful, very vivid images will be burned into my mind’s eye for a very long time:
At one point, I was distracted by a drip on my face, and glanced up to see Josef’s body hanging above us like some kind of bleeding vampire crucifix.
With the conscious human cowering away from him, he clutched the other body like some obscene parody of a mother and child. He’d fallen to his knees, and he was fighting what he wanted to do, what he had to do, and what clearly he feared to do.
And then, the introduction of the man Mick would do anything for to the one he did it to. It was almost surreal in its calmness, its normalness. The irony in Josef’s words was painful, as he himself at this point probably could not imagine what Mick had done for him.
Josef nodded, and got slowly to his feet, extending his hand. “Grandson,” he said. “ Time flies. Welcome to America, Marcin.”
Since this comment is longer than some of my own fics, I'll stop now before I end up quoting the whole thing.
Just one last thing -- perhaps my favorite line:
I regret a lot of things in my life. Dragging that cowering human, the one who’d watched them torture my friend, over to be a meal for Josef, isn’t one of them.
This is the Mick that went after LeeJay and the Mick that finished Tejada. It's Mick with a sense of vampire justice, and it only serves to highlight further the constant internal struggle he faces.
This is just pure gold.