Roswell Fanatics

Hi, guys! Just breezing through with the newest bit. Enjoy!!






Both women kept their mouths shut, no matter what he did. He’d joked, teased, annoyed, pestered… heck, he was considering begging... but he still hadn’t managed to get anything out of them.

The curiosity was killing him, he’d admit to that much. The concern… that, he was keeping to himself. He wasn’t quite sure how or why he’d become so attached to Liz. They’d just met a few days ago, but he already felt as if he had known her for years. He reacted to her as if she’d always been there, as if she were under his responsibility. And that was… puzzling. He’d never reacted to people in this way. Usually, it was just the opposite, keeping them as far away as he could for as long as he could manage.

And yet, he now realized, he hadn’t reacted to her like that at all.

Yes, he’d been mistrustful for a bit but in less than two days he’d allowed her to be in the same room as his unconscious and vulnerable baby brother. That she’d been unconscious herself didn’t matter. She should have still “registered” as a threat at that point, but she hadn’t. He didn’t know whether to be pleased about that or incredibly upset.

He settled for mildly uncomfortable and planted his ass on one of the kitchen’s chairs. From there he had a prime view of the cooking taking place. It was nice, homey. Even if he did end up with a knife in hand and several onions to slice and dice.

Little bitches always made his eyes water.


******************************


He’d ended up cutting up all of the vegetables. Why they needed so many, he didn’t want to know. Give him one big, crispy potato still hot from the oven and enough cream, cheese and bacon to slather over it, while it sat on his plate beside a big, juicy steak and he was set. The ladies (and Sam) apparently did not agree with his taste. They had decreed that there’d be steamed baby carrots and onions, green beans with cream and ham, golden corn with mayo, cheese and lemons' juice (Missouri had muttered something about Mexico, which had made Liz smile) and a rather large bowl of salad on the table before they had even deigned to consider placing any meat on the menu. Both Bobby and he had been giving them hopeful puppy-dog-eyes during their planning. Eating only rabbit food could in no way be healthy for big strong men like themselves.

Being handed a large bowl filled of large stakes marinating in beer had been like a dream come true. He’d probably been salivating like a puppy over them, because all the women had given him amused looks. Sammy had just shaken his head in exasperation. Bobby had bolted to light up Missouri’s grill.

Wolfing down that stake had been glorious. It left him feeling full, sleepy and mellow.

He should have known it was a trap.


******************************


-“We’ve been thinking about what could be done with Jacob.”

-“Oh?”

-“We were thinking of letting him go.”

-“What?!”

-“Sit down, boy, and listen. You can’t keep on dragging him all over the place, least of all in the trunk of that car of yours. Either you kill him or you let him go, there isn’t any other choice.”

-“Look, we just haven’t looked enough. There’s no way we’re letting his ass go after he tried to stab Sam through the back, literally. Then, to make things worse, he just helped a demon unleash Hell’s army into the world. And he’s getting off with a pat to the hand? No fucking way.”

-“Ah, but I didn’t say he was getting off, now did I?”

-“Cut the crap, Souri. You’ve got a plan already, then spell it out. I know you enjoy torturing the unsuspecting, but the boy’s got enough in his plate to go a round or two with you right now.”

-“He certainly cleaned enough of his plate to be out of it for a while tomorrow.”

Sam, honest to God, giggled. He was so not forgetting that one. They were do another prank war, anyway. The Nair episode deserved a repetition.

Bobby simply kept a measured look on the older psychic. It took a few minutes, but eventually she caved and threw her hands up.

-“Fine. I won’t tease him anymore. Today.

-“We were thinking about a binding… a geas, perhaps. Something that will keep him from speaking about what happened and that will keep him from harming any of us ever again.”

-“Shouldn’t it be “from harming anyone ever again”?”

-“I don’t think that’s really feasible. The kid’s a soldier. You send him out with that kind of binding and you’re just signing his death warrant. He’ll be defenseless.”

-“Maybe you could add a self-defense clause or something.”

-“It doesn’t work that way. The clause would contradict the original geas. It’d become a sudden death clause.”

-“So harming anyone, like in just bumping into them accidentally, would kill him.”

-“Yes. If we limit it to ourselves, we also guarantee that he’ll stay away from us. At least, if he wants to live past such an encounter.”

-“He could also go kamikaze on us.”

-“I… don’t think he will. I think he was so terrified of what the demon would do to him and to those he loved that he was willing to do anything to prevent it.”

-“You’ve been peeking into his mind.”

She didn’t deny it. Probably had been peeking into all of their minds.

-“What did you see?”

-“Each person’s mind, their feelings and thoughts, they are their own, Dean. I can tap into them, yes, and I could make them public knowledge if it so pleased me as well. That, though, is a path I’m not willing to follow. The person doing that would make me, I don’t ever want to meet her. She, as you young people say, freaks me out.

Yes, I did look into Jacob’s mind. And yes, I saw many things. The one thing I can tell you, the most important one to you, is that that boy means none of you real harm, at least not on his own. He can’t be trusted, for the easiness in which he was corrupted, but I don’t think he’ll “come after you” if you let him go.”

He wanted to scream at her again, and he knew she knew that. He also knew Bobby was at the perfect range to slap him upside the head if he did so. So he kept quiet, thinking her words through. Sammy chose to use his silence for his own questions, which he appreciated. If someone could dig up some info, it was Mr. Geek himself.

-“I’m sorry, but… isn’t a geas magic? As in witch magic?”

-“It’s a sort of binding. Many look at it as a curse, but it can also be a gift. It depends on the intention and the wording. Usually, it’s “cast” by a woman upon a man.”

-“So one of you girls will do the honors?”

Ellen opened her mouth, whether to volunteer or deny, he didn’t know. Missouri, though, didn’t give her the choice.

-“I think it should be Elizabeth here whom does the binding. A psychic to bind a psychic, and the stronger the better.”

That got little Liz looks from around the table. Had Missouri really implied that she was the stronger of the two? Missouri, Mrs. I-have-a-range-of-over-two-states?

It was a little bit chilling… and humbling, to realize just how easily they could have ended up fried had they pissed her off.

Liz, didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at them, just took a sudden complete interest on her food. Ellen was gaping at her with disbelief similar to Dean’s own. Bobby and Sam, they just looked thoughtful, as if they’d been expecting something similar.

He looked again at the petite girl… and realized he should have, as well. He’d seen her toss Jake as if he were nothing more than a leaf blown in the wind, had watched as she ripped control of his possession of Ellen’s body. Had heard the demon call her one of his top picks among his children.

He should have realized she was strong, much, much stronger than she looked like.

She was still beautiful… and powerful… and terrifying.

And there was still something the matter with her, something neither Missouri nor she would admit to.

And that… that freaked him out.

Hi, guys! I'm so, so sorry. I didn't manage to get access to the Net on Friday (got sent out of town ) and, thus, couldn't post. Here's the next part, just out of the oven. Enjoy!!







Placing the geas over Jake sounded relatively easy: they placed the guy inside a protective circle, meant to keep the power of the geas contained to those within. Liz would step up to the very edge of it, spread her hands over Jake and intone the words they had chosen for the binding. As she did so, she was supposed to use her gifts to power the thing, to jump-start it (for lack of a better term). If everything went well, Jake would become disoriented, perhaps even fall unconscious, and then they’d use some of their Dad’s old contacts to get the guy back to Afghanistan.

That was the theory.

The practice went a little like this:

They dragged Jake out of his closet, where he’d obviously been regrouping, because as soon as they’d placed him in the circle the kid somehow rolled onto his very bound feet and started swinging his bound arms like they were some sort of freaking club. He knocked down Bobby and Missouri and went for Ellen’s throat before they could react. Sam flung himself against his back, pulling him away from the blond and ending up thrown against a wall for his troubles. That left just Dean and Liz on their feet and only he had hand to hand combat training. The room was much too small for her to try to use her lightning, would have probably fried them all if she’d tried, so he was left as their only real defense, as the only one that could stop the guy.

He’d forgotten about the super strength.

Jake smashed him away from himself and towards the nearest wall, grabbed him again and sent him against a bookcase. Damn if the guy didn’t know how to hold a grudge.

The next toss, against a wall again, left him reeling. He had to get up, he knew it, but his body simply wasn’t answering the frantic commands of his brains. Heck, he could barely even tell where up was.

He’d managed to open dazed eyes upon a peculiar sight: Liz moving to intercept Jake as he came at him. The pint-sized girl caught him by the back of his shirt, lifted him as if he were a child, and flung him head-first back into his closet. Jake jumped to his feet immediately, or at least he tried to, but his bindings made his movements clumsy. It bought her enough time, though.

A wave of her hand had something flying in from the kitchen and flinging itself at Jake. The guy didn’t even see whatever it was coming. He just froze as he detected the impact, eyes going wide. Dean’s eyes finally focused enough that he was able to see what had happened, was able to see the two syringes sticking out of the guy’s thigh.

Jake went down as if he were a puppet with its strings cut, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Liz swayed in place for a second, but then she marched over on shaky legs and closed the closet’s door on his face.

The others were already picking themselves up from where they’d fallen, all of them taking peeks at the petite girl that’d just saved their butts.

What the fuck??!!??


******************************


-“You said girly here was strong, psychically strong. You never said she was fucking wonder woman!! What’s she gonna do next, lasso up the lot of us?”

-”Calm down.”

-“Don’t you tell me to calm down! Don’t you freaking want to know what just happened?”

-“Of course, but I don’t think screaming at them will get us anything.”

-“Bobby, so help me God…”

-“Ellen, just sit down.”

The blond had an impressive glare, he’d give her that, but he’d lived with his Dad for most of his life, had been pissing off the guy for most of his life. He was glare-proof.

-“Let’s just give them a chance to explain.”

-“They’ve had chances. And all they’ve done is avoid the issues.”

-“What do you want to know?”

Liz’s voice was cool, detached. Her eyes were dark, with heavy bruises beneath them. Was it his imagination, or where her eyes darker than before?

-“How the hell did you stop that guy? You picked him up as if he weighed nothing.”

-“It’s one of my gifts.”

-“That’s… vague.”

She smiled at him, not in amusement but in recognition of his attempt at lightening up the environment.

-“Psychics aren’t limited to one gift, you know. The stronger they are, the more gifts they have. And those gifts can change over time, can evolve.”

-“So you have more than one gift. Something besides your little light show business.”

-“She’s a copycat.”

Missouri looked unbelievably pleased.

-“A copycat? What exactly do you…”

Bobby’s jaw dropped mid-word. Poor guy had a good reason. It’s not every day a tinny little girl lifted a guy Sam’s size with her bare hands. And not only him, but the chair he was sitting on as well.

Her eyes, which he could see clearly now, were darker than before.

In fact, they were the exact same shade as Jake’s own.

-“You’re tapping into his powers.”

-“I’m… replicating them. Imitating. I can only do so for a little while, though. The stronger the ability the faster I have to let go of it. Strength and mind control are Jake’s main abilities, his strongest ones. And he’s no slouch.”

Even as she spoke, color bled out of her irises until they returned to their normal velvety brown. She reached out again and tried to lift Sam once more. They could see the muscles bunching up in her arms, but she didn’t even move him an inch.

-“That means you could tap into Missouri’s abilities… or mine, right?”

-“In theory? Any psychic’s within a certain radius. Some abilities are easier, though. Especially if they are similar to my own. For example, I could tap more easily into Missouri’s psychometry than I can tap into Jake’s strength enhancing.”

-“Psychometry? You mean palm-reading?”

-“Palm-reading? We gonna get into our PJ’s and have pillow fights next?”

-“Not that kind of palm reading. I won’t be pulling out the tarot of the Ouija board next, either. Palm-reading of the kind Missouri does, touching a person or object to get an impression. Sam can do it too, it’s why I mentioned that he won’t touch certain objects. To him, they feel wrong.”

-“You mentioned? You’ve been talking about me? When? Why? About what?”

-“Easy, Sammy. It wasn’t like that.”

-“The what was it like, Dean?”

-“You’re getting us sidetracked!”

Ellen had risen from her chair and was glaring at them like she wanted to tear them new ones. There was something there, he realized suddenly, something way beyond mere animosity. He’d thought she simply didn’t like Liz, but there was something more to that dislike, he could see that now.

His whole body went tense with the sudden urge to jump between both women. But whom, exactly, would he be protecting then? He’d known Ellen the longest and yet…

Missouri, thankfully, took the choice out of his hands. Her wooden spoon smacking against the displaced coffee table made them all jump in surprise.

-“Look, honey, we know you don’t like being here. We also know you don’t like being near… our kind. I’m pretty sure the boys won’t mind dropping you off on their way back to Bobby’s place once this is over. But you’re also not going to take out your feelings on anyone while under my roof or we’ll have to have a little chat, is that clear?”

There was something there too, in the older woman’s eyes. Like a banked fire just waiting for a chance to really burn. The sudden tenseness in both Sam’s and Liz’s shoulders told him he wasn’t barking at the wrong tree. Whatever Missouri was packing behind her mild mannered façade, they didn’t want to be there when it came out to play.

-“Fine. Then get a move on.”

The You-Bitch! at the end of those words was easily recognizable. Ellen looked like a cat, back arched, spitting and hissing, as she once again took her seat.

-“If we place the geas on Jake while unconscious, will it hold?”

Sammy Winchester, the voice of reason and geeky curiosity all rolled into one humongous package.

-“I’m not sure. It’d depend on how much strength Elizabeth places on the command I guess, and whether or not his subconscious registers it appropriately. We wanted to place it on him while awake, to make sure it sinks.”

-“And if he’s unconscious, we can’t test it. Got it. How about half conscious? Like, when he’s coming out from under the drugs. Prep him up and, as soon as he starts giving any signs of life, lay the whammy on him.”

Missouri looked thoughtfully at the books still laying on her floor.

-“It might work. It’ll also give us some time to clean up this place and for me to find a few things that will be needed. Yes… it might be the best we can do, given our cards.”


******************************


Dean had watched in weary amusement as Sam got dragged into cleaning duties. He wasn’t as amused, though, when he realized the resident psychic intended it to be a practical lesson. He watched, between fascinated and horrified, as Sam was given instructions and tips on how to make his “gifts” work as he needed them to.

It was… disturbing, to watch as Sam did something that went 100% against what their Dad had taught them. Psychics weren’t to be trusted, they had to stay as far away from them as possible.

And yet, Dad had been friends of a sort with Missouri. Dad had known about Sam’s abilities. Dad… had done many things, said many things, because he believed they would protect them.

How was he supposed to protect Sammy from himself? From something he was?

Something he’d always been.

It was going to drive him crazy, he just knew it.

Still, it was funny as hell to watch Sam’s attempts. His brother might be a bright little geek when it came to books and facts, but he was apparently quiet average in the psychic learning curve.

His first few tries ended up in nothing, and the first time something happened it was thankfully just a pillow that exploded. It was hard not to laugh at Sam’s expression. His brother looked once again like the chubby three-year-old that kept insisting he could tie his own shoes and kept on tripping until big brother rescued him.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t help Sammy in this one. God knew he didn’t know whether to try to help or to drag his brother as far away of the whole situation as he could.

He still didn’t think Sammy’s working on his powers would bring anything good, either.

Hi, guys! I want to thank you all for you comments, I'm glad you like it! I wrote a little faster today, so you get the new part a little early. Enjoy!








They ended up cleaning the room by hand, like people should. Normal people.

He’d never tell his brother, even if he knew Missouri knew, but he felt relieved when Sammy’s TK refused to work as it should. It was one thing to accept that his brother was and would forever be psychic. It was another completely different thing to agree to that very same brother actively using those gifts.

The risks were too high, too many, for him to do so. Strong psychic ability would draw in all sorts of nasty shit.

His heart hurt, badly, as he considered those it already might have.

He’d really like to have a little chat with his Dad. Especial topic being what to tell your sons before you die. Added to the other special: when it’s not acceptable to make deals with demons.

Shit, if things kept popping up, he’d want to kick the guy in the ass next.

He hated thinking this way about his Father, about the man that had literally given everything for him to survive.

But…. Jeez. The guy sure kept a lot of things close. Perhaps too many.

He rechecked the lines he was drawing on the floor. Missouri had explained how the circle worked, kind of like a giant lens, aiming and concentrating the power poured into it at the object or person inside it. The drawings had to be precise or everything would go askew.

He was a bit glad he’d gotten this particular “chore”. While the clean-up would have gone faster if he’d helped Liz and Sam, his head felt a little loose. Son of a bitch had concussed him, he guessed. Sitting down on the floor and drawing symbols felt ten times easier than moving around. Even if it still made him queasy.

Missouri had gone to pick up some stuff she’d decided she needed, and Bobby was walking Ellen. Yes, he realized just how bad that sounded, but the woman was acting… bitchy. He really didn’t know what her problem was. Missouri had mentioned that she didn’t like psychics, but she’d never seemed to have a problem with Sam, and she knew about him, had known for a while.

Maybe her problem was with practicing psychics? Was there even such a term among them?

He wanted some Tylenol. Between the blows earlier and the dealing with women 24/7, he was getting a headache.


******************************


The hand against his forehead felt cool. Its mate sifted through his hair, supporting the back of his head and helping him rise slightly then lower himself back against someone’s chest. The shape of the body and the fact that he could feel breasts pressed like tempting little pillows against the back of his neck told him his helper was female. The feel of soft, if tangled, hair against his forearm told him exactly who his helper was.

The hand on his forehead shifted slightly, protecting his eyes from the sudden increase of light in the room. Still, he flinched back into Liz, trying to hide from it, and she obligingly shifted her fingers to give him a better cover.

-“Fool of a boy. He should have told us his head hurt.”

-“You could also have told us he wasn’t feeling ok.”

-“You still have much to learn about men, deary. Even more so about Winchester men. Offer them some help without their asking and they’ll only treat you like you’re crazy and keep on going until they collapse.”

-“So you let them collapse and then help them?”

-“I thought he’d be ok until I got back. Didn’t expect it to hit him quiet so hard. Feels like a migraine, doesn’t it?”

Another set of fingers pressed something lightly against his lips. He’d opened his mouth before it registered that it was some sort of pill. A cool glass was presented to him next and he drank greedily, swallowing water and pill in one go.

-“That should help. You going to stay with him, girl?”

-“Yeah, at least for a little while.”

-“I’ll close the door, then. The light won’t help him when he’s like this.”

-“Is everything ready?”

-“We’ll set the geas in the poor boy as soon as Dean’s feeling better and you’ve all eaten something. Have you thought about what I told you?”

-“I… yes. I don’t think it’s right.”

-“And dying is? Besides, the pros much outdo the cons in this one.”

-“You’re talking about taking away someone’s free will.”

-“No more than it already has been. I don’t think anyone would begrudge you this, sweety.”

-“The answers’ still no.”

-“You’re a stubborn little idiot, Elizabeth. I wouldn’t wish what’s coming on my worst enemy.”

Steps, moving away. Fast, angry steps.

-“Missouri?”

The older woman stopped, her frame thankfully blocking even more of the light from the corridor.

-“Yes, honey?”

-“Thank you. For everything.”

-“I… You’re welcome, honey.”

The door closed softly behind her, leaving them in darkness. Liz’s hand moved from his eyes and onto his forehead.

-“At least you don’t have a fever.”

Her voice was soft, whisper-smooth and soothing. He considered answering her, but the mere thought of moving enough to speak had him cringing.

-“Men are such big babies whenever they feel sick. You guys get the sniffles and you want to hide in bed for a week.”

Something soft pressed against his temple. Her lips, he realized, as a memory of his Mom holding his Dad in much the same way came to him. No one had ever held him in such a way.

She started humming something, deep in her throat. Metallica’s “Back in black”. Heck, Missouri might say she still had much to learn, but this chick got him alright.


******************************


The next time he woke, she was gone. There was a pillow under his head and a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Someone had even taken the trouble of getting his boots off, without waking him. The pain was gone, though, for which he was incredibly thankful.

Squinting his eyes as he got to his feet, he could see that everything had been prepared once again for the geas. Candles and herbs, what few were needed, were already at their places and someone had finished drawing the symbols of the circle.

He stepped carefully over everything, trying not to smudge the lines or shift something out of place. He wanted this to go as smoothly as possible. Once he made it into the corridor, he heard the low voices coming from the kitchen.

The scene before his eyes as he walked in was almost homey, for this lot. Sam, Bobby and Ellen sat at the table. Sammy had obviously been drafted into vegetable chopping duty, while a smug looking Ellen helped Bobby clean some guns. Missouri had her head in the fridge while she searched for something and Liz swayed before the stove, humming along with the low playing radio as she kept watch over their cooking dinner.

There was a wooden box on the nearby counter, one he hadn’t seen there before. It looked a bit like one of those old jewelry boxes, but bigger. He’d just reached curious fingers towards it when Missouri’s voice rang out warningly.

-“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

-“I was only looking!”

-“Mmmhmmm. Only looking. Curiosity killed the cat, Dean Winchester. Make sure you remember that.”

He gave her his most rakish grin to her face, but pouted at her behind her back. He would have stuck his tongue out at her too, if he’d thought he would get away with it. A soft giggle from near the stove told him he’d been caught and gave him enough time to clear his expression before the older psychic turned towards him again and glared at him.

-“Why, exactly, did we fix him up?”

-“We’re going to need some muscle to carry Jake out of the closet?”

-“Oh, yeah. That’s right.”

He stuck his tongue out at them both, after all.

Hi, guy! Sorry it's a little short this time, my access to a computer was a bit.... limited, today. Hope y'all like it!








She was lovely, he had to give her that, and she was dressed to impress.

But the setting was all wrong.

One second he’d been sitting at Missouri’s table, eating some pasta, and then the next he was back here, watching as his possessed brother had sex with an equally possessed girl.

The cream colored dress that fell in waves around her waist as their hips snapped together, the blood-crusted nails scratched deeply into his back, the pretty pink lips spread in a drawn out moan of pleasure.

He liked porn as well as the next guy, but this was just plain disturbing. Especially because he could see every expression that crossed Sam’s face in that perfectly positioned mirror. In Sam’s… and in his own.

His own face, which still sported those awful eyes. Did tearing your eyes out in a dream mean you’d also do so in the real world?

Or was this what was real, and the other a dream?

The sights, the scents… they felt real.

-“Back again, sweetheart?”

Her eyes were mocking over Sam’s shoulder, her expression almost earnest.

-“Who are you?”

-“Don’t you know?”

-“I know who you are pretending to be. I want to know who you are.”

Her expression twisted suddenly in pleasure, even as “Sam” gave a sudden gasp of his own. Both of them collapsed in a tangle of sweaty, bloody limbs. She pushed him off her and onto the couch, though, and rose to approach Dean. Even as she did so, she licked the blood collected on her fingernails, tainting her lips with its red shade.

-“Poor darling. You still don’t get it, do you?”

-“Get what? Answer my question!”

-“I’m trying, Deanno. You’re just not asking the right one. It’s not really important whom I am, but whom I may become.”

-“And whom, exactly, can you become?”

She was suddenly against him, pressing him tight against a wall, her thigh moving between his own and rubbing gently against his cock. Those pretty lips pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss against his earlobe before she spoke.

-“My name is Legion, darling; for we are many.”


******************************


And just like that, he was back in the kitchen, listening as Bobby groused about lost research time and as Ellen muttered about things she should be doing. Sam was talking to Liz, peppering with questions about his gifts, about what he could do to get them into control. And Missouri was looking at him, dark eyes intense, face blank.

It took an effort to keep himself from blushing. Had she seen all that?

He hated the idea of her getting into his head and seeing things there that he didn’t even comprehend.

He returned her look with one of his own. No, he didn’t want to discuss this. She sighed with what seemed to be disappointment, but sent him a look of her own. And then she sent a look and Liz.

No way! No way was he telling a girl he’d just watched her…

That just got him a shrug, her body and expression telling him that she was giving up on it… for now.


******************************


Dinner was almost over, at that point, for which he was thankful. Sitting at that table, looking at everyone’s faces and pretending everything was ok was more draining than he would have expected.

He almost welcomed the activity when Sam and he were sent for Jake.

The guy was heavy, perhaps even more so than before. He’d heard that people were heavier while unconscious but this was ridiculous. The guy seemed to weight a ton.

It wasn’t until he looked at Sam after they left trunk-boy in the circle tat he realized he was the only one that seemed to have a problem with the weight. Sam wasn’t even winded.

Had that little episode sapped some of his strength?

His eyes went to Missouri, whom, without looking at him, nodded.

Shit.

What the fuck, man?

No, on better thought, he didn’t want to know.

The woman pursed her lips at him in distemper, but kept her mouth shut and busied herself helping Liz prepare the last of their little ritual.

Sam and Bobby had already chosen prime viewing spots and Ellen was busy lighting up candles, so he planted his ass in a nearby chair a prepared for the show.

Under Missouri’s careful guidance, Liz stepped around the circle, a “candle” made from several herbs burning softly in her hands. Surprisingly, the smoke didn’t spread, but formed a softly floating circle of its own. Another pass was made, this time pouring water from a small bowl, with similar results. The liquid formed its own circle, floating a few inches beneath the smoke. She repeated the process, with a pot of dirt and then with a pot of oil. The oil was the set on fire itself, using what was left of the wand.

He hadn’t liked this part, even in the explanation, because it sounded so much like witchcraft. Missouri had explained it was actually added protection, asking for help from the four elements. The circle itself already included symbols for the main cardinal points and for the sun and the moon. The explanation hadn’t helped much in dispelling his dislike.

Once all the circles were ready, Liz stepped up to the north of the circle and murmured three phrases. They’d had to translate them into Gaelic, of all things, of which Bobby had been in charge. The guy apparently spoke 10 languages, most of them deader than dust, and was handy in another 8. Guy really needed to get laid. Even more than Sam. It was becoming an emergency.

The words had to be repeated at each cardinal point. If everything was done right, the circles would then be “absorbed” by the person or object within.

Even as he watched her move from spot to spot, his gut told him something was wrong.

Something was missing and without it, he didn’t think this little ritual was going to work.

So some of you have been asking about some things. This one has a few answers for you guys, but maybe not the ones you'd like. Enjoy!







Liz intoned the last of the words and slowly lowered her hands. The circles began to spin, slowly at first but gaining in speed.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

-“Uhmm… guys?”

-“Maybe we should duck.”

He kept back the No-shit-you-idiot just because Ellen was a girl, but moved to do just that. The chair wasn’t exactly protective, but it was better than being out in the open. They all moved behind the nearest piece of furniture… or well, most of them did. Little Miss Elizabeth apparently didn’t even hear what they were saying. The girl was just standing there, seemingly mesmerized at the lightshow going on in the middle of the room.

Dean was moving before he even thought about it. Three steps had him at her side, all but colliding with Sam, whom had moved as well. He didn’t stopped, grabbing an arm from each of them and dragging them after him towards were Missouri hid with Bobby behind the couch. The nearly skidded into place just as the spinning reached critical.

The whole thing exploded outwards, flinging things, furniture and people everywhere.

He saw a chaotic view of the wall coming ever closer before everything went dark.


******************************


A cramp woke him. He tried to move his leg, but there was something heavy on it. Opening his eyes, he found himself face to face to someone’s pocket.

Denim, big, with a small whole near the seam at the hip. He knew those jeans. Which meant Sam was the one acting as his body pillow. He tried to turn his head left, to see who was on his legs, but his brother’s belly was in the way. Next, He tried to move his arms and hands. The right one squeezed something soft.

Something hand sized.

Uh oh.

He wondered if he could pretend to still be asleep. If he closed his eyes and didn’t move, would they believe him? In a room full of psychics?

Shit.

He turned his head right, dreading what he was going to see.

Missouri glowered at him from beneath Sam’s lower legs and most Bobby’s torso.

-“Get your hand of my tit. Now. Before you lose it.”

He did as she asked, faster than if he had been burned, which increased the glower. Ok, time to act as if he were once more before the cops.

Deny, deny, deny, deny.

And hope it would somehow sink into his brain and erase the experience.

-“I heard that.”

Oh, man. There was no winning this one. He was getting “spooned”, he just knew it. Time to change the subject.

-“Anyone else awake?”

-“No, thankfully. You do realize the only one that wasn’t affected by the explosion was Jacob, right?”

-“Shit! Don’t tell me he’s gone!”

-“No, but it won’t take him long. Drugs were almost out of his system by the time we started.”

-“So it hasn’t been that long.”

-“About an hour, I think. If we can get them on their feet, we might have a chance to figure out what went wrong and try again.”

-“I think… something was missing.”

-“Missing?”

-“Yeah. You know, like we skipped something.”

-“This a gut feeling?”

-“What?”

-“Is this your gut talking? Or are you just guessing?”

What the…

-“Gut, I think.”

-“Ok.”

-“Just like that?”

-“What exactly would you like me to say, then?”

-“I… I don’t know.”

He really didn’t.

-“When you figure it out, ask again.”

He didn’t answer, couldn’t… didn’t want to. It wasn’t happening. No way, no how. It just wasn’t.


******************************


It turned out that the one cuddling with his legs was, for some reason, Ellen. Liz had ended up hidden from him bi Sam’s frame. How on earth the blond had ended up on this side of the room when he was pretty sure she’d been by the door, no one seemed to know. Or at least, no one was talking.

Missouri and Liz sure looked shifty when asked, though.

He older psychic dragged Bobby out of the room, in search of answers or so she said, and again left them to clean up. He was really beginning to dislike this whole thing, and not only because of the whole fix-the-room-again thing. He was letting them take one last chance at it. If it didn’t work this time, they were looking for something else.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ellen once more glaring at Liz. Ok, what was up with that? The girl had done nothing to her. Why the fuck was she being so damn aggressive?

A look at Sam told him that his brother had seen it too, and appreciated it as little as he did. Time to get a few answers.

A nod towards Liz had Sam chatting her up and discreetly leading her out of the room. He didn’t think they were pulling the wool on her, but she went willingly enough. Perhaps she was as tired of the attitude as they were?

-“Ellen?”

-“Yes, honey?”

-“What’s up?”

That got him her complete attention.

-“What do you mean?”

-“I think you know.”

-“This is about the… girl, isn’t it?”

-“What were you going to say?”

-“What?”

-“That little pause? What were you going to say?”

-“It’s… nothing.”

-“Look. I’ve never known you to hold back your opinion. Hell, I’ve even heard you scream it. You’ve been biting your tongue on something practically from the moment you met Liz, and it’s gotten worse since we’ve been here.

So, what’s up?”

She hesitated, obviously uncomfortable with the subject. Still, she didn’t avoid his eyes.

-“I… they’re not to be trusted, Dean!”

-“They?”

-“Them. Psychics like them. I don’t mean Sam. I’ve watched your brother. From the very moment he told us the truth. He doesn’t use those so called abilities, doesn’t revel on them, doesn’t lord them over anyone else or use them against them. He’s not like them! Those two… have you seen them? Have you even listened to them? Next thing we know, they’ll have us all believing that being what they are is the most natural thing in the world!”

-“They were born this way, Ellen! They can’t exactly stop being what they are!”

-“So those vampires you told us about, the ones of you little hunt with Gordon, they were all killers because they were vamps? Everyone can fight their nature, Dean! Everyone has a choice! Sam’s proof of that!”

Sam, whom had been practicing with his abilities just hours ago, while she was gone.

Would she hate him as much, had she seen? If she knew?

-“Yes, Ellen. Everyone has a choice. You don’t have to deny whom you are to help people. Missouri’s abilities have helped us before. Liz’s saved Sam’s life, saved you own! Should she have let you die? Would it have been better if she had, instead of using her gifts?”

-“You don’t get it. You don’t know… you haven’t seen…”

-“Not know what? That they can be dangerous? By that measure, so am I! So are you! Anyone has access to a gun or a knife, Ellen, anyone can be dangerous. All that rules us all is our conscience, and some have very little of it or don’t care at all. But they don’t! Missouri and Liz, they don’t deserve that judgment. They’ve done nothing wrong.”

-“I can’t make you understand, Dean. Can’t force you too. You’ll understand someday. I just hope it won’t be too late. That it won’t cost you what it has my family. I’d hoped that John had taught you better. I guess I was wrong. For your sake, and Sam’s, I hope you wise up.”

-“This is about what happened to your husband, isn’t it? What were they hunting, Ellen? What happened? What really went on on that hunt?”

-“Some bastard of a psychic went rogue! That’s what happened! He went rogue and he tore my husband apart! Never even lifted a finger, the way John told it.”

-“Ellen…”

-“Get the hell away from me! You want to listen to them, fine. You want to trust them, fine. But don’t expect me to take it laying down. Don’t expect me to like or ask me to… to be “friends”. Any of them set step on my land and I’ll kill them, no questions asked.”

She was crying by the end of her rant, big fat tears rolling down a splotchy red face. He’d seen a lot of people cry like that, it was inevitable while hunting, but never with that kind of desperation centered on his family. She was worried about them, bordering on terrified.

-“Ellen, I… I wish you had told us about this sooner. I know that it probably hurts to talk about it, but we really needed to know. I… I can’t promise you that we’ll stay away. What’s coming, we need all the allies we can get. I can promise you we’ll be careful.”

-“I guess that’s as goo d as I’m going to get, isn’t it?”

She tried to dry her eyes as she spoke, hands shaky with her distress.

-“Just… be safe, ok?”

-“Hey, it’s us! Of course we’ll be safe!”

-“That wasn’t exactly reassuring, you know.”

Hi, guys! Sorry for the delay. I had everything all typed up last Friday, but wasn't able to get online to post it. So here goes. Hope you like it!






Missouri was waiting for him as he came out of the room. She didn’t speak, just grabbed his arm and dragged him into the kitchen. He couldn’t help but notice the way she watched the door behind him. Probably watching out for Ellen, he guessed, but it still made him uncomfortable. It was like being the toy in a tug-of-war between two kids. The toy never came out well from those.

The kitchen was surprisingly empty.

-“Where’s everyone?”

-“Robert and the others are busy “researching”.”

-"Oh. Maybe I should go help?”

-“I think you and I need to talk for a bit first. About truth and lies.”

-“Oh?”

-“I can’t “block” my powers, Dean. They can’t be turned on and off like a light switch. At least, not without some preparation and a rather complicated ritual.”

-“So… you were snooping on Ellen and me.”

-“Not precisely snooping… “keeping an eye on” might be a better expression for it.”

-“Well then… Since you had your eye on us, was she telling the truth? Was her husband really killed by a gone-Dark-side psychic?”

-“All truth is relative, Dean.”

-“This is a yes or no question, Missouri. Was he killed by a psychic?”

-“He was killed by s demon-spawn. One that was controlled by a Summoner, like that Ava girl you mentioned.”

-“So it was a psychic.”

-“It was a terrified 13-year-old boy whose powers awakened too soon. Dean, please. You have to listen.”

He’d been marching towards the door as she spoke, intent on getting his brother and the others. They’d deal with Jake on their own and they’d send the women on their way. He wanted his brother as far away from this mess as he could get him.

But Missouri had been his father’s friend, had probably heard the story straight from him. And he needed that info, especially if he was going to be dealing with Ellen and Jo.

-“Talk fast.”

-“A psychic’s first awakening usually happens in their early twenty’s. It can happen as a child, if they’re very strong or stressed or if particular circumstances occur. But that’s rare. I thought Sam would be one of them, he’s that strong, but I maybe whatever the demon did had a hand in slowing the process. I don’t know. Elizabeth mentioned her own abilities came on when she was around sixteen, out of stress. She’ll have to tell you her own story, though.

This boy, he was 13. John later found out his father had been in the process of raping him. That’s what triggered his abilities. I can’t even imagine what it was like, suddenly being able to feel what the person doing that to you was feeling.

He snapped. His mind just… broke every barrier inside itself and released his gifts fully. Usually this happens gradually, as the psychic learns. With him, everything was suddenly there… and he couldn’t control it. His father was ripped apart in an instant and, when his mother came home later, she was all but splattered on the walls.

Then the boy took off into the woods near his town. Anyone that went in after him was slaughtered, no questions asked.

John and Bill went there to stop him. They didn’t know quite what abilities he had, just that he was deadly and that there wouldn't be much of a window of opportunity. It was Bill’s hunt, Bill’s plan. They came to me first, asking about how to bind someone’s abilities. They wanted to help that child, not kill him. They were fathers, they couldn’t bear to think about hurting that boy unless there was no other choice.”

That… sounded like his Dad. And like Jo’s description of hers. The kind of men that would do anything to help a kid.

-“Bill had called in your Daddy because of he was a good hunter and because he knew me. He needed us both for that hunt to work. I gave them what I could and sent them on their way.

John returned three days later. He didn’t tell me what happened, let me see it all in his head. They found the boy all right, or should I say, the boy found them. Poor thing, frightened and alone and hungry. All wide eyes and dark hair. Could have been any of you kids. Bill managed to talk him into bundling up with his own jacket and John got him to eat a bit from what they had in their packs.

Then John went into a nearby bush, to take care of business, as he said. Wanted to do the binding away from his eyes, before they tried to get him back into town. Good at rituals, your Daddy was. Best exorcist I’d seen in a while. That’s why Bill trusted him with it.

That boy, though, he felt it happening. And being anywhere near a man was already tough for him. He snapped again, summoned the demon-spawn and, before any of them could react, it was tearing at Bill.

John killed that boy, Dean. Put a bullet through his head trying to save Bill’s life. Then he tried to patch him up, enough so that he could get him to help, but it was already too late.

So he listened to Bill’s last message to his family and then he took that and his body back to his wife.

Then he came here, to thank me for the help I’d given them, and then he went home to his children. To the two little boys he’d been unable to spend Christmas with.”

-“Ellen told Jo he’d used Bill as bait in that hunt. That he’d jumped the gun and that’s why Bill died.”

-“Your Daddy was a good man, boy, but he was also a bit of a fool. A fool with guilt issues. A bit like his boys in that, if you ask me.”

He gave her what he could of a smile, lopsided though it was. He felt as if someone had just stabbed him in the gut, as if he were slowly bleeding to death. He remembered that Christmas, with a clarity that was painful. Remembered it and now knew all that it had cost.

-“So you see, honey, truth is a relative thing. It all depends on your point of view.”

-“Ellen hates psychics because of it. You knew that.”

-“Yes.”

-“You knew and you didn’t tell us.”

-“It wasn’t my place. She had to tall you her side of the story, Dean. It was the only way you’d understand where she stands.”

-“Because she hates all psychics, doesn’t she? And she’s torn over Sam.”

-“I… yes, that’s one way of putting it.”

-“Is it? And how would you put it, exactly?”

She looked at him, biting her bottom lip. It was quite obvious she didn’t know if she should tell him whatever her impressions were. He still wanted to know.

-“I think Ellen is a good mother, one that knows a thing or two about her child’s heart. And I think she’s willing to sacrifice anything for that child.”

-“What?”

-“You’ll figure it out someday, honey. But… I wouldn’t depend on her too much on things that affect Sam… or Elizabeth.”

She left him standing there, looking after her with an eyebrow raised. He wanted to scratch his head and sigh in frustration, he really did. As far as he got, from those little comments, was he could trust Ellen, but only if it helped Jo.

What a pain in the ass. Couldn’t she just tell him things up front?

-“And don’t you cuss at me, young man!”

Shit. Unfair, man! She wasn’t even in the room.

-“I can still hear you, Dean Winchester!”

Fine!


******************************


He ended up being the one that dosed up Jake while the others researched. He kept the sedative mild, as per Missouri’s orders. They wanted to try the binding as soon as possible. They knew the thing worked, or at least it powered up all right, so all they needed was to figure out why it had gone south.

It was actually Sammy who got it, unsurprisingly.

-“He’s never hurt you.”

-“What?”

-“We’re trying to keep him from doing us harm, right? But he’s never hurt Liz, who’s the one doing the binding. In fact, you’re the one that’s hurt him. Wouldn’t that be like… preventing him from self-defense? And that’s one of the clauses we’re setting, that he be able to protect himself from true harm.”

-“So me tossing him around to save your life… constitutes harming him, under the terms we’ve set.”

-“Yeah.”

-“Then she can’t do it herself, can she? Someone else should do it.”

-“She could still do it. We’d just need to give her a little help.”

Everyone turned to Bobby. He’s eyes were unfocussed as he thought things through, but then they locked on Sam.

-“You’re the one he has meant the most to harm. I mean, he did try to kill you, nearly did. If you walk through the ritual with Elizabeth, you should be able to help her cover that angle.”


******************************


So they did it again. Binding Jake, take three. Only this time Sammy had to walk around behind Liz, all but clinging to her wrists. The lightshow with the circles was just as impressive as before, if not even more so as they were sucked into Jake’s body and lightened him from the inside out. The guy’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body convulsed as the power of the binding was absorbed. It looked a bit like the lightshow they sometimes got when they were dealing with the caspers.

The guy ended up knocked out cold, and Sam ended up on his ass with a lapful of Liz. Oh, man, the expression on his kid brother’s face! How on earth had he managed to raise such a prude?

Sorry, guys! Another post and run. Enjoy!!!







It was surprisingly easy what it took to quietly get someone out of the country. At least, what it took when you had the right contacts. His Dad hadn’t kept many from his time in Nam, but he’d kept some suspiciously good ones. Guy seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to people, and it proved incredibly useful at times like this.

Thus, they delivered Jake to the indicated coordinates and watched as he was carted, crate style, into a nice military chopper and the wave goodbye as they airlifted him out of their lives. Hopefully forever.
Sam had gone with him while the other remained at the house. His little brother looked… not distressed, not quiet, but upset.

-“Dean… do you think it’s alright?”

-“What do you mean, Sammy?”

-“Me using this gifts. Missouri says they’re mine… that I was born with them. But I can’t help thinking that they only seemed to come online when the demon was involved.”

-“Sam… what do you want from me?”

-“What?”

-“What do you want, man? Do you want me to tell you its ok, to go ahead and use them, that I don’t mind? I can’t do that and you know it. I hate that this is happening to you. If I had my way, we’d lock those abilities up in a vault and never touch them again.”

Each word he’d spoken had hit Sam like a rock being thrown at him, he could see as each of them hit, could imagine the bruises they were leaving on his little brother’s soul. What was he supposed to do? Tell the kid he was alright with it? Especially when it was tearing him inside to even think of Sam… of the path his using his abilities could set him on. He couldn’t. It went against everything he was, everything that his life stood for.

Especially because, he realized, he was terrified. His Father’s words, no matter how cruel, still rung in his head. Either he kept Sam safe or one day he’d find himself aiming a gun at his baby brother’s head and by Hell if he could even bear the thought of having to do that. If this was what his Dad had meant, if this was what he was supposed to protect Sam from, from himself, then…

He didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know who to trust.

He didn’t know what was right or wrong.

All he knew was to hold on to his brother and not let go, just as he’d been doing since the night their Mom had died.

No.

From the moment his very proud Dad had set a tiny, newly born baby Sam in his arms and called him a big brother.

His Dad might have told him to look after his brother, but the promise to keep him safe he had made to himself, on that very moment.

-“I know what Missouri said, Sam. I get it that this abilities are a part of who you are. But… I don’t think you should actively use them. Knowing how to control them is ok, but not like… everyday, can-you-float-the-salt-please using. I think they’re dangerous. Or at least, that they can be. To you.”

-“What if I can’t control them? What if lack of use makes them… unstable or something?”

-“If that happens, then we’ll deal with it. Same as we always have.”

-“I… I’ll try.”

-“I guess that’s all I can ask.”

God, he was a hypocrite. If Ellen ever got wind of this conversation… Heck, once Missouri got a hold of it when they got back.

Shit, it was going to be the spoon again.


******************************


He knew she was there as soon as he got out of the car, could almost feel her eyes on his back. It set the hairs on the back of his neck on end.

The house was dark, but the hallway’s lights were still on. After the last few days, everyone was tired. They were resting tonight and going to Bobby’s tomorrow. They’d get Ellen to the Roadhouse, or what was left of it, on the way. But they still hadn’t decided what to do with her.

Sam marched into the house without a look back. Only the slight hesitation as he stepped over the threshold betrayed the fact that his brother knew exactly who was waiting for him.

He wasn’t quite sure about why she was waiting for him, but…

She came out of the shadows beneath a nearby tree. He was beginning to hate the way she seemed to crawl under his radar. She was much too close for him not to have known she was there, barely a few arm-lengths away.

Missouri had obviously found something more girly for her to wear. Slightly too big white pants, an orange sweater and white tennis shoes. The clothes had probably belonged to a slimmer version of the older psychic and seemed to swallow her petite frame, but at least she looked like a girl.

The white suited her. The orange… thing… was hideous.

-“I know you’re leaving tomorrow.”

-“Is that so?”

-“I’m going with you.”

-“Now wait a minute…”

-“You’re going to need me, Dean.”

-“We’ve done all right on our own so far, haven’t we? No need for a pint-sized psychic sidekick.”

-“This pint-sized sidekick saved your brother’s ass with one hand while you were too busy scream like a little girl.”

-“Hey! I wasn’t… I was warning Sam, you little bitch!”

Surprisingly, she was the one that moved into someone’s space. From an outsider’s point of view they probably were quiet the show, since she had to step in her tippy-toes to shove her face anywhere near his.

-“Whether you like it or not, you owe me your brother’s life. Have you ever heard the Chinese saying that “if you save someone’s life, you’re responsible for what they do with it”? I’m electing to apply it now. I’m going with you.”

-“You’ve never even been on a hunt! You have no training!”

-“You didn’t either when you began hunting!”

The fiery glare, the stomping foot. She reminded him so much of Cassie he didn’t know whether to kill her or kiss her!

Sorry guys! Internet trouble again. Whole town was out of the loop for hours yesterday. We were even sent home early, since we couldn't really do much. The joys of working in remote support . Anyway, here's the next bit, hope y'all like it!





Liz’s eyes stayed locked on his own, as if daring him to take that next step, whichever it might be.

Her slender little neck was just there, all it would take was for him to reach out and squeeze. She wouldn’t even have the chance to cry out.

And yet, her lips were also there. Looking soft and sweet, parted ever so slightly as if inviting him in. He could see himself doing it, had done it before. Just reach out, pull her against him and kiss her as if he wanted to devour her, until they were both breathless in a tangle of ruined clothes and languidly sweaty limbs.

And then he’d be gone with the dawn, stealing away as if he were a petty thief, undeserving of the treasure he had stolen.

Cassie had known what she was walking into, had chosen the path with both eyes wide open. Liz… something held him back from even showing her that the path existed.

Doe-eyed brunettes had always been his weakness. He knew it. Hell, it’d even been exploited before.

He should just purge out the itch and move on.

And yet, damn it all, this one mattered.

And the problem was he didn’t know why.

Whatever she saw in his eyes, Liz decided not to press the issue. Perhaps she believed she had won? He’d find himself more ammo before the next round and show her what winning was truly like.

-“Perhaps I should have told you Bobby’s news before I jumped down your throat.”

Now that was interesting.

-“News?”

-“He managed to raise dome of his contacts. Freaky things are going on. Dark, smoky clouds seen over 17 cities, spread all over the place.”

-“The demons from the Gate.”

-“Yeah, popped into the radar then immediately popped out.”

-“So they possessed someone and went to ground? What kind of army is that? Where’s the battle?”

-“No one knows. Bobby thinks that without Yellow-Eyes, they don’t have a leader. That maybe they’re trying to reorganize themselves.”

-“Huh. Great. So what are we supposed to do in the meantime? We can’t exactly walk around dosing people with holy water in the hopes they’re a demon we can hunt. And unless they do something ridiculous like putting up a sign that says “Hunters! I’m a Demon! Come kill me!” we’re shit out of luck”

-“Out of luck would be better than were we are.”

-“And where’s that?”

-“Did you really think they’d let you go?”

-“Let me go?”

-“The demons, you doofus. Did you think you’d kill their leader and walk away without them retaliating? They want you dead, Dean. They set a contract out on you.”

Hmmmm. Ok, so he had never really thought about an “afterwards”. He didn’t think any of them had. Except maybe Sam. That one was all about making little plans. But him? He’d just thought of these days as their glory days. Ride into the sunset kind of thing. But that wasn’t very realistic was it?

-“Of course not.”

-“My God, you did! You totally believed this would be it. Game over for the bad guys and so long for the good guys. Jeez.”

-“Ok, so maybe I didn’t think about it. Much. But still…. What’s this about a contract?”

That sobered her right up.

-“They want you dead. So they’re making a Celebrity Deathmatch out if you. Free game for one year, anyone that gets you gets the pie. Years up? Send out the Hell Hounds to run you to ground.”

-“They want me in the pit that bad, huh?”

-“You could at least take it seriously.”

-“They’ve still got to catch me.”

-“Even if they don’t how’re you going to avoid the Hounds? Indefinitely?”

-“I…. I’ll figure something out.”

-“And if you don’t, you leave behind your brother to bury you.”

-“I…”

And wasn’t that a kick in the nads? Because she was right. Him dying meant Sammy would be alone. Yes, he could trust Bobby to look out for the kid, but Bobby couldn’t be everywhere.

He could remember the pain of losing his mother, and the more recent wound caused by his father’s death. To add himself to Sam’s burden….

Shit. Girly played dirty.

-“That’s why you want to come with.”

-“You helped me out. I’m just repaying the favor.”

-“We just gave you a ride.”

-“Whatever you say.”


******************************


She’d let him go then, with a soft mutter about watching the stars. Whatever she could see in a somewhat cloudy night, he left her at it.

Sam was out on the living room floor, limbs comfortably spread around him. It left him with very little space to stretch out, but he managed.

Surprisingly, as soon as he settled his brother rolled into him and cuddled against him. Sam hadn’t done that for years, since he’d entered adolescence and began considering himself to grown to keep cuddling with his brother. It was just not cool.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed the familiar weight and warmth against his side.

It also told him just how unnerved his brother was about Bobby’s recently acquired gossip.

Sam had only ever done that in his sleep when he’d been seriously freaked out about something.

Double shit.

Looked like Lightning Girl was going to get her way after all.

Because, if for some reason he messed up and ended up taking a trip down under, he didn’t want Sammy being left on his own.


******************************


-“Awwww. They’re just too cute for words.”

-“Shush, girl. Get the camera!”

The feminine whispers woke him from one of the best sleeps he’d had in years. He was toasty warm, cuddled up against an equally warm body, and he wanted to keep on sleeping.

He almost growled at them, especially when he remembered where he was and whom he was cuddling.

He would have, had they not kept on talking as they took pictures to their hearts’ content.

-“You talked to him?”

-“I told you I would.”

-“What did he say?”

-“He doesn’t want me anywhere near his precious hunts, but he’s going to take me with them.”

-“Dean said that? He didn’t agree with it?”

-“He thinks he’s getting the chance to argue later.”

-“He’s still arguing? After all… You foolish, foolish girl. You didn’t tell him, did you?”

-“I told him what he needed to know.”

-“You… Do you have a dead wish? Is that it? Because I can tell you now, this will only end up gory for you.”

-“It doesn’t have to be that way. I won’t let it be that way.”

-“Who says you get to decide, Elizabeth? You haven’t even got a chance to get word in edgewise in this whole mess. Why bet on things changing? You’re playing at the Russian Roulette, child and you don’t even know how many bullets this gun’s got.”

-“Because I had no choice!”

Had she not been attempting to keep her voice at a light hiss, that scream would have brought the ceiling down on them.

-“There was no time to choose, Missouri. That can’t be changed. But this? I won’t do the same thing to someone else! I’m not taking away anyone’s choices. Heck, I’m making one of my own! This is me taking my life into my own hands and living it! I won’t let you destroy someone else’s life for my sake, I won’t do it either.

I’d rather die.”

-“But you are taking away someone’s choice, aren’t you? Girl, a lie of omission is still a lie. And that’s what you’re doing here. Lying.”

-“There’s too much hate there, too much distrust. This… would just become the stroke that broke the camel’s back.”

-“But you will have this little chat with him? With both of them?”

-“When the time is right. Please let me have that.”

-“If you wait too long…”

-“I know. But this is my bet to make.”

-“What is it with all of you children loving your high-stakes?”

-“You wouldn’t like us quite as much if we weren’t the betting sort.”