Slipping Through The Cracks
[http://amplificathon.livejournal.com/1833363.html#] - - public:opalsong
Phil looked at Clint, lowering his weapon, devastation clear on his face for a fraction of a second. Devastation for what Clint had done, or devastation for what he’d suffered Clint wasn’t sure. He squared his shoulders regardless. “People like to say that blood smells like iron, but it doesn’t. Blood smells like blood, and sometimes there’s no way around it and no room to regret it.”