Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) COMPLETE
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vaifeal
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Re: Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) New 3/02
“There's something wrong with the world today
I don't know what it is.”
- Living on the Edge, Aerosmith
Newspapers spread across what universally passed as a pub table and ink stained her hands as she skimmed through them with Sam. Dean was at the bar, several blonds standing next to him doing their best to get the attention of a what she would admit was a very sexy specimen of the male population. They weren't making any progress as he leaned on the counter and ordered another round. He'd barely glanced at them on his way over.
It made her want to jump up and down in triumph.
Liz had no idea what the thing they had going between them was. She slept in his bed at night (after Sam had passed out and was up before either of them), he watched over her a little closer when they were hunting, but outside the occasional sly touch there was nothing to say that there was a chance at more. She was surprisingly ok with that.
Balancing three mugs he came back to their table. She took hers with a small smile that matched his and half listened to the hunt that Sam had found them.
*
It was like Boogie Nights had thrown up in the room, it was that bad. Liz had to wonder what the hell the people that owned the motel were thinking. No one in their right mind would decorate a place in that way unless they were stuck in some terrible polyester time loop.
Dammit, she was afraid she was going to be infected by disco just by touching anything. She had to tell Dani about the place. It would definitely be one of the highlights of her friends tacky motel collection that she'd had going since the first picture Liz had sent her.
“You want me to use her to get info,” the laptop she'd slipped from her bag slipped slightly in her hand.
The girl they'd met at the auction house, Sarah Blake, was just Sam's type. Nice, outgoing, innocent, intelligent, and a good sense of humor. Jess minus the responsibility to keep friends out of trouble even though half the reason she'd seemed so quiet was because everyone else had been so loud.
Sarah was not a good idea.
*
Dean and Sam were over the tall gate blocking entrance to the property quickly. They turned back to her waiting for her to follow. She could do it. One of the great things about being around Charlie and Dani for so long was that scaling walls was a must know. Generally speaking the skill was employed when running from some type of security guard.
“Take a running start,” Liz rolled her eyes and ignored the instructions as she laid her hand on the lock to hear it click open under her hand a moment later. She slipped in and closed the gate again.
Giving the brothers a look she almost laughed at their identical expressions, “Must you always do things the hard way?”
*
“I don't mean any disrespect but I'm sure this is about Jessica. Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that but I would think she would want you to be happy. God forbid want you to have fun once in a while, wouldn't she?”
Liz was doing her best to ignore the conversation happening around her, it wasn't working but she had managed to gnaw her lip enough to taste blood trying to stop herself from saying something she'd regret. If they didn't stop talking about Sam moving on from Jess she most definitely end up screaming at the pair using a stream of ever colorful filth.
She'd hoped that by the time Sam was even considering doing anything with another woman they'd have caught the thing that went after her friend and all their, her cards would be on the table. She was going to have to kill Dean for pushing his brother the way he was.
*
Sam was staring at her waiting for her to talk which given that she had asked Sarah and Dean to give then a moment alone wasn't so odd. She hated awkward conversations.
“This thing that you're doing with Sarah-”
“-there's nothing-”
“I need you to not do it. You'll regret it. Please just trust me on this,” he stared at her a minute longer before nodding.
*
“You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” Liz did like the Sarah. If they'd met differently they could have been friends as it was, they weren't. She wasn't even going to try.
“This isn't their first time,” her voice was sharp and Dean paused where he was digging to give her a curious look. A slight nod got him to turn away.
*
“The doll?”
In her sophomore year, Liz took an history/anthropology class that covered twentieth century American customs. It was complete bullshit the only highlight of which had been talking about Kinsey's sex study but at the moment she was glad that even though she hadn't bought the textbook, she had paid attention to the lectures.
“Dean,” she tugged on his arm and took his phone. “We got it Sam, hang in there.”
“What the hell?”
“Those dolls were made with human hair, the owners hair.”
*
Her headphones were up too high to hear anything around her, not that there was much. Dean had gone into the diner to grab some food and Sam was sitting in the front staring out the window. He was probably thinking about Sarah. She really didn't want to know. Her faith in him had taken a hit when she'd found that search he'd done, she needed to believe that nothing had happened before he'd come out and joined them in the car.
A hand gently shook her and she jumped. Liz turned down her music and met Sam's smiling face, “I'm sorry about Sarah – nothing happened – but I'm sorry.”
She nodded, her fingers pressing skip when the opening cords of the Weezer song she used to tease him with. He was making an effort to ease the tension that had been festering between them for weeks now. She wasn't ready to let it go.
“Please tell me that's not BOC,” it wasn't but it was from the same time period. “I though you didn't hated that type of music.”
She didn't hate it, the music that Dean usually played reminded her of what her dad used to play. That's why she avoided listening. Sam should have remembered that. Liz closed her eyes and put her headphones back on.
“You can't find out everything by pressing the search button on google.”
*
“Speak your piece,” the sounds in the bar were muffled behind the close door but seemed to come through the other end. Serena was out.
“Weren't you ever taught the proper way to answer a phone?”
“Yeah but it didn't stick,” Liz shook her head at the familiar conversation. It was comforting to be able to rely on something so inconsequential. “Everything good on your end?”
“Mostly, Sam's making some trouble.”
“Need me to have a talk with him?”
“No. No, that's alright,” Serena's work had made her harder. Her version of talking was more destructive than not. Situations that they were both in weren't fair. “I can handle him being an ass but...”
“What?”
“There was a girl. He was close to going for it.”
“Shit.”
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
-
vaifeal
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 186
- Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
- Location: somewhere this side of unstable
- Contact:
Re: Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) New 3/05
A/N: Answers to the Sarah thing come in two parts from now (depending on if the next part is two episodes in one) but there have been little clues the whole way that might be a bit obscure. Thanks for all the great reviews, I haven't recognized you guys in too long but I do really appreciate them.
“I shield you from this life
Your heart is kept on ice
I'll file you where I need
And keep you from the heat”
- Ice Water, Agua De Annique
John watched his boys where they were sleeping on the motel beds. Both of them on top the covers and still dressed. He knew they'd be up at a moments notice if he needed them to be. There had been plenty of times when they were growing that he had watched them the same way. Sam still slept sprawled out, his long limbs taking up most of the bed.
Dean still slept mostly to one side of the mattress as if someone else was suppose to be in bed with him and now there was. Liz Parker, the young woman who had refused to be left behind after her friend had been murdered. He'd looked her up after he'd seen her in Lawrence. The only thing he'd found was that she was smart, very smart. She had a sealed flag on her record from when she was a teenager and a small misdemeanor from a college prank but besides that he'd think she was perfectly normal if he hadn't seen what she could do.
But despite how it might have seemed to Sam at times, John did trust his boys. If they trusted her, he could give her the benefit of the doubt.
Since meeting his sons earlier, the most curious thing he'd seen was that Dean had been the one to get into bed with her not the other way around. Liz had been the first person to claim a bed and Dean had laid out next to her, grumbling that he didn't feel like moving when Sam had given him a curious look. John knew better.
They didn't sleep like two people forced to occupy the same bed. It was more intimate than that.
He hadn't sensed anything between the two of them the last time they'd crossed paths and even in the car the two of them had only been friendly but that didn't mean anything. It was there. If he were honest, Liz reminded him a little of Mary - strong willed and unaccepting of any bullshit that came her way. They were both so hard-headed he didn't see it ending well.
When they had a minute, he'd have to make sure that Dean knew what he was getting himself into.
*
“Hey Dean why don't you touch up your car before you get rust. I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it,” she didn't get that. Dean loved that car. It was a staple of his childhood, had been his dad's, he didn't mistreat it.
Liz's eyes flitted from Dean to John and back before taking a step towards the black truck. They needed to get going if they were going to catch the vampires trail. Vampires. She was having as hard a time as Dean in accepting that they really existed, which was crazy. In her lifetime she'd dealt with several variations of aliens, two types of shapeshifters, ghosts, demons, poltergeists, a Strega, and many other creatures straight from legend. That was on top of the ones she read about in John's journal or heard about from the brothers.
But vampires? That was a little hard to swallow. She blamed Buffy. The movie and the show had made the creatures the laughing stock of villains. Granted, according to John most of the lore used was bullshit but she still expected some pasty white guy with a black cape.
“Liz where-” Sam stood with the Impala's driver side door open, staring at her in curiosity. It seemed like those were the first words he'd said that didn't in some form undermine his father.
There was times to listen and there were times to question. Now wasn't great for the latter. His refusal to learn that lesson was getting kind of annoying.
“I'm gonna ride with your dad.”
Getting into the truck turned out to be one of those things that illustrated how short she really was. When it was time to get out she'd have to jump. Hopefully Dean wouldn't be watching. He already teased her about her height, she'd never live it down.
She stared out the window watching the scenery fly by. One day her mouth was going to get her into trouble, “I spend so much time defending Dean to the people that should know him I wonder if they really do,” she ignored the look John shot at her. He knew about Missouri, he had been there of course he did. It might have taken her a while but she knew that. “You don't have to push him so hard.”
“You-”
“Sam blows you off and you make an effort. Dean listens to you and you push him. That's not right.”
“Just because you're sleeping with my son-”
“Yeah. Sleeping,” Dean scared the crap out of her, the possibility there. She couldn't handle it. What would happen if they went for it? Where would she be left when everything came to a head? “that's it. I'm his friend. Friends have each others backs. Why does everyone treat him like all he does is fuck up?”
“He need a strong-”
“He needs a father not a commanding officer,” they glared at each other a minute before John slammed on the breaks to avoid colliding with the Impala where it had cut in front of them.
Sam got out, pissed off and showing it. Liz really needed a vacation.
*
“Drop the blade,” Dean held out the machete and slowly lowered to the ground. The vampire pressed her blade into her neck. It might've, just might have, taken her off guard. “Why can't you people leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do.”
“I don't think so,” using reflexed improved in the alien abyss and sharpened over the last several months, Liz grabbed the hand that was holding her knife and places the other one on the closest exposed skin. Luther yelled at the unforeseen attack.
She managed to twist out of his arms and swung the machete that had transferred to her hand when his grip had loosened, his head went with it. For a minute she stood in a daze barely aware of the two female vampires that were being chased off by the Winchesters, usually when she killed something it - more times than not - dissolved.
A heavy hand sat on her shoulder, “Are you ok?”
Liz blinked at the body in front of them, “His head...”
John pulled her into a half hug making her look away. She'd decapitated someone, something. A something that looked like a someone, “You did good.”
*
“Nope. No way,” she shoved Sam towards his dad's truck. “If we're traveling together now you two are going to settle accounts.”
“Liz-”
“Uh-uh, don't Liz me. Go,” he gave her a dark look but went.
Shaking her head she got into the Impala, in the passenger seat. It was the first time she was in the front seat when Sam was an option. That made her all kinds of happy. Dean glanced at her amused as she grinned out the window.
“Need a booster seat?”
“Oh shut up.”
“I shield you from this life
Your heart is kept on ice
I'll file you where I need
And keep you from the heat”
- Ice Water, Agua De Annique
John watched his boys where they were sleeping on the motel beds. Both of them on top the covers and still dressed. He knew they'd be up at a moments notice if he needed them to be. There had been plenty of times when they were growing that he had watched them the same way. Sam still slept sprawled out, his long limbs taking up most of the bed.
Dean still slept mostly to one side of the mattress as if someone else was suppose to be in bed with him and now there was. Liz Parker, the young woman who had refused to be left behind after her friend had been murdered. He'd looked her up after he'd seen her in Lawrence. The only thing he'd found was that she was smart, very smart. She had a sealed flag on her record from when she was a teenager and a small misdemeanor from a college prank but besides that he'd think she was perfectly normal if he hadn't seen what she could do.
But despite how it might have seemed to Sam at times, John did trust his boys. If they trusted her, he could give her the benefit of the doubt.
Since meeting his sons earlier, the most curious thing he'd seen was that Dean had been the one to get into bed with her not the other way around. Liz had been the first person to claim a bed and Dean had laid out next to her, grumbling that he didn't feel like moving when Sam had given him a curious look. John knew better.
They didn't sleep like two people forced to occupy the same bed. It was more intimate than that.
He hadn't sensed anything between the two of them the last time they'd crossed paths and even in the car the two of them had only been friendly but that didn't mean anything. It was there. If he were honest, Liz reminded him a little of Mary - strong willed and unaccepting of any bullshit that came her way. They were both so hard-headed he didn't see it ending well.
When they had a minute, he'd have to make sure that Dean knew what he was getting himself into.
*
“Hey Dean why don't you touch up your car before you get rust. I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it,” she didn't get that. Dean loved that car. It was a staple of his childhood, had been his dad's, he didn't mistreat it.
Liz's eyes flitted from Dean to John and back before taking a step towards the black truck. They needed to get going if they were going to catch the vampires trail. Vampires. She was having as hard a time as Dean in accepting that they really existed, which was crazy. In her lifetime she'd dealt with several variations of aliens, two types of shapeshifters, ghosts, demons, poltergeists, a Strega, and many other creatures straight from legend. That was on top of the ones she read about in John's journal or heard about from the brothers.
But vampires? That was a little hard to swallow. She blamed Buffy. The movie and the show had made the creatures the laughing stock of villains. Granted, according to John most of the lore used was bullshit but she still expected some pasty white guy with a black cape.
“Liz where-” Sam stood with the Impala's driver side door open, staring at her in curiosity. It seemed like those were the first words he'd said that didn't in some form undermine his father.
There was times to listen and there were times to question. Now wasn't great for the latter. His refusal to learn that lesson was getting kind of annoying.
“I'm gonna ride with your dad.”
Getting into the truck turned out to be one of those things that illustrated how short she really was. When it was time to get out she'd have to jump. Hopefully Dean wouldn't be watching. He already teased her about her height, she'd never live it down.
She stared out the window watching the scenery fly by. One day her mouth was going to get her into trouble, “I spend so much time defending Dean to the people that should know him I wonder if they really do,” she ignored the look John shot at her. He knew about Missouri, he had been there of course he did. It might have taken her a while but she knew that. “You don't have to push him so hard.”
“You-”
“Sam blows you off and you make an effort. Dean listens to you and you push him. That's not right.”
“Just because you're sleeping with my son-”
“Yeah. Sleeping,” Dean scared the crap out of her, the possibility there. She couldn't handle it. What would happen if they went for it? Where would she be left when everything came to a head? “that's it. I'm his friend. Friends have each others backs. Why does everyone treat him like all he does is fuck up?”
“He need a strong-”
“He needs a father not a commanding officer,” they glared at each other a minute before John slammed on the breaks to avoid colliding with the Impala where it had cut in front of them.
Sam got out, pissed off and showing it. Liz really needed a vacation.
*
“Drop the blade,” Dean held out the machete and slowly lowered to the ground. The vampire pressed her blade into her neck. It might've, just might have, taken her off guard. “Why can't you people leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do.”
“I don't think so,” using reflexed improved in the alien abyss and sharpened over the last several months, Liz grabbed the hand that was holding her knife and places the other one on the closest exposed skin. Luther yelled at the unforeseen attack.
She managed to twist out of his arms and swung the machete that had transferred to her hand when his grip had loosened, his head went with it. For a minute she stood in a daze barely aware of the two female vampires that were being chased off by the Winchesters, usually when she killed something it - more times than not - dissolved.
A heavy hand sat on her shoulder, “Are you ok?”
Liz blinked at the body in front of them, “His head...”
John pulled her into a half hug making her look away. She'd decapitated someone, something. A something that looked like a someone, “You did good.”
*
“Nope. No way,” she shoved Sam towards his dad's truck. “If we're traveling together now you two are going to settle accounts.”
“Liz-”
“Uh-uh, don't Liz me. Go,” he gave her a dark look but went.
Shaking her head she got into the Impala, in the passenger seat. It was the first time she was in the front seat when Sam was an option. That made her all kinds of happy. Dean glanced at her amused as she grinned out the window.
“Need a booster seat?”
“Oh shut up.”
Last edited by vaifeal on Mon Apr 07, 2008 1:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
-
vaifeal
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 186
- Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
- Location: somewhere this side of unstable
- Contact:
Re: Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) 3/09
“Early one mornin' while makin' the rounds,
I took a shot of cocaine and I shot my woman down.
I went right home and I went to bed,
I stuck that lovin' .44 beneath my head.”
- Cocaine Blues, Johnny Cash
“I'm going with your dad,” three sets of eyes turned in her direction and she steeled her resolve. “He needs someone to watch his back, might as well be me.”
A storm of words erupted around her like she had known there would be. The wet chill in the air made her pull her coat closer even as she compared the two guns in John's hands. They weren't exactly alike but she could make it so they were. All they needed was a little wave of her hand and poof two colts. If Sam and John would just stop talking she could tell them that.
“No way in hell are you-”
“She said come alone-”
“Who's going to watch your-”
“I won't jeopardize-”
Liz met Dean's eye, a shiver going down her back. His brow was pulled together and he hadn't blinked since she'd first spoke but she couldn't tell what was going on in his head. She'd thought she'd figured out most of his looks, it was worrisome that he was so still.
“You're the only one that's gone up against this thing and made it out alive,” his voice was low but both his brother and father stopped. John looked at her in surprise, she briefly wondered if anyone had told him the full story of what happened that night in Palo Alto.
“It wasn't prepared for me. That won't happen again,” he nodded slightly which she hadn't expected. She didn't turn away from him but addressed his family. “I'd like nothing more than to kill that thing myself but we need to play to our strengths. Lincoln is a trap, I can take Meg but THE Demon, it'll just hit harder if I'm there.”
“Liz,” the concern in Sam's voice was palpable.
“Just give me those damn guns.”
She placed both of them on the flat of John's truck and slowly began changing the fake. Centimeter by centimeter the appearances became identical all the while she was aware of the low argument between Sam and John, of Dean standing close. The warmth of his body was making it hard to focus. Something might happen to him, to either of them, and she wouldn't be there to fix it.
When she was done, Liz turned and without the reserve she usually exercised put her arms around Dean's neck. She lightly pressed her lips to his pulse before pulling back to whisper in his ear, “Be careful.”
He cleared his throat after a minute and stepped back, “We'll see you both soon.”
*
Her first instinct had been to tackle Meg but then she'd remembered that hey that was a demon and oh yeah there was two of them. So instead she'd taken a deep breath and sent the nearest object that wasn't bolted down – which turned out to be a filing cabinet of some kind – at Meg knocking the she-thing off her feet as she was bitching about getting shot.
“John go!” she focused as much as she could but still stumbled back. The male demon was stronger than Meg. From the corner of her eye she made out John opening the door, still pushing back as hard as she could she followed.
As soon as the door was shut they both ran, past the holy water John turned on and up through the tunnel back to the truck. The tires were slashed and Liz forced herself to not focus on the fact that everything was going wrong and on the possibility that by the next morning a year of worries and lies could be over.
“This way,” they started running again but only ended up in a dead end.
Liz searched around them and found a heavy door sealed shut. She placed her hand on the lock, managing to get it unlocked just as John was thrown up against the wall. The pressure from both side hit too hard and too fast for her to react.
She crashed through the door, the sound of tearing flesh was the last thing she heard.
*
“You boys really screwed up this time,” Meg's voice coming through his fathers phone made Dean's heart stop. His hands clenched.
“Where is he?”
“You're never going to see your father again,” he snapped his phone shut and took a minute to let the situation sink in. His dad was in demon hands. He knew nothing about Liz.
“They've got dad.”
“Meg?” he gave a small nod. “Liz?”
“I don't know.”
Dean started shoving his belongings into his dufflebag. They needed to leave, they needed to do it now. More demons could be coming for them and the colt. Salvation wasn't safe anymore. His phone ringing stopped him as he shoved the last of his clothes in.
A raspy voice met his ear, “Dean.”
*
Her tank was shoved up so that Bobby could bandage her side, her teeth clenched together to stop from making any noise as he pulled another piece of debris from the wound. Turned out there was a lot of that in an abandoned factory. The shard of metal that had embedded itself in her side – luckily missing all major organs – hadn't been rusted through just a bit fractured.
“You should go to a hospital,” Dean hadn't moved from her side since he'd found her outside of the factory after she had tried to find the demons.
“No. I'll be fine,” she'd had worse. When Bobby had finished she went to pull down her tank before realizing that there was a hole in it and it was crusted with her own blood. “Can I borrow a shirt?”
Liz's bag had been in John's car. Her knapsack with Daniel Elkins journal and her laptop had been with Sam just in case but her clothing had come with her since it had been determined that her and John might not have been able to meet up with the boys after ditching Meg.
*
The broken body of the woman that the demon had used lay in front of her. Her name might have been Meg but they couldn't been sure. She'd been used for a year, watching helplessly as evil was done. This woman who even in as she was dying was trying to help.
More than anything else in the last year, a year of that womans life being taken made her realize that there was never going back. When the demon from Palo Alto was dead that wouldn't end anything. She was a hunter. That's it.
Liz closed her eyes and pressed her hands to either side of the blond head. She couldn't heal the woman, there was too much damage but she could help take away the pain. Dean's shirt was bunched on her lap, the woman's hair sticky with blood, her insides screaming in pain. So much loss from one demon. She hoped Hell was as bad a place as rumors said it was.
That thing deserved it.
*
“I'm trying to thank you.”
“You're welcome,” Sam nodded and went to check on John. He'd passed out as soon as they'd found someplace to stop. Sam had told her that they'd been drugging him which since it was demons holding him, Liz found a bit odd. She hadn't gone with them into the Sunrise Apartments, Dean hadn't let her, so she couldn't say much on it.
Pushing herself off the corner cot, she went to stand in front Dean where he was half sitting on the table. She came just between his legs, close enough to touch him. He didn't look up.
“That guy I shot. There was a person in there.”
“You didn't have a choice.”
“That's not what bothers me,” haunted eyes finally came up to meet hers. “Killing that guy. Killing Meg. I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch. For Sam and dad the things I'm willing to do or kill. It's just... It scares me sometimes.”
Her forehead lightly touched his, her hands took his lacing their fingers together, “It shouldn't. You take care of your family. None of us would be here if you didn't.”
“She's right,” Liz jumped away from Dean almost tripping over his feet as John entered the room.
“You're not mad?”
“For what?” Sam came to stand next to her. One Winchester. Two Winchesters. Three...
“Using a bullet,” she pulled on Dean's outer shirt. That wasn't John.
*
It took everything she had not to move where she was crumpled on the floor. Like she had predicted as soon as the demon had made itself known her involvement had been swiftly dealt with. Liz was fairly certain that the only reason she was alive was because she hadn't taken the offensive. Dean had drawn the colt. Sam had backed him up, reminding her of the person he'd been that had come and gone since Jess. Then it was all a blur.
“What? You think you're the only one that can have a family. You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family? Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still two wrongs don't make a right.”
She didn't think she'd lost consciousness, she'd heard what was going on around her just much more muffled than it should've been. Her head was spinning and, even blinking, everything was blurry around the edges.
“You son of a bitch.”
The colt was on the table. She couldn't get to it without the demon noticing, neither could she aim it where she was. With only three bullets left they couldn't waste one on a crap shot. Sam looked in her direction and she purposefully glanced towards the colt then back at him. He nodded slightly to let her know he got it.
“I want to know why, why'd you do it?” the demon walked to stand in Sam's face.
“You mean why I killed Mommy and pretty little Jess?”
“Yeah.”
“You know I never told you this but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. Had bought the ring and everything. You want to know why? Because they got in the way.”
That wasn't really what she had meant. It was all well and good that it was monologuing, confirming things that had been thought out before plans had been made, but she couldn't very well get the colt to Sam if the demon was in front of him.
“In the way of what?”
“My plans for you Sammy,” she could officially never call him that again. “You and all the children like you.”
Liz took a deep breath, nothing felt broken. Not that it mattered adrenaline alone would keep her from feeling it if there was serious damage.
“Listen you mind just getting this over with 'cause I really just can't stand monologuing,” it crossed to Dean.
“Funny but that's all part of your M.O. isn't it,” using its distraction she levitated the colt. “Mask all that nasty pain, mask the truth.”
The table shattered before hitting it. She rolled to her feet trying to get the gun but it shoved her back, head cracking into the wall. She'd have one hell of a concussion later. It was stronger and had centuries – if not millennia - worth of experience on her.
“You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?” it stood right of reach, even as her arms tried to swat at him.
“I've been told,” she cried out in pain. Her chest being pushed in, her synapses on fire. Everything she had was going into not being completely pinned to the wall. An invisible force enclosed her neck.
“The truth?” Dean yelled from his position, her feet kicked at the wall trying to get loose. “What's that?”
The demon turned back to him, “You know. You fight and fight for this family but the truth is they don't need you, not like you need them. Sam, he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight it's more concern than he's ever shown you.”
“I bet you're real proud of your kids too,” her feet gave out under her as she was released. Blood dripped from Liz's nose from the effort and the violent coughs were bringing up blood. “Oh, wait. I forgot. I wasted them.”
“Dean! No!”
She could see her reflection in the blood and saliva on the floor.
“Dad. Dad, don't you let it kill me.”
“Dean! No!”
Dean was letting out low groans of pain, made almost inaudible by Sam's frantic calls. Ignoring that her body wanted to shut down to recover, she pushed herself to her feet and half fell on the demon. She could feel John struggling to gain control, the demon ignoring him as one would do with a brief annoyance. He was trapped in his own body. Like Meg had been.
“Dad please.”
John grasped on to the mental assistance she was trying to give, managing to get enough control that when she fell back his sons had been released. Liz crawled to Dean, a relieved sigh passing her lips as she felt his pulse.
*
Her head was pounding, she was barely avoiding getting sick. Blood was dripping down the back of her neck were her skull had collided with the window shattering it but that didn't matter. Liz was still half covering Dean from her attempt to shield him from the trucks impact. It hadn't done any good.
“Dean?” his skin was deathly pale, his chest was barely moving. “Dean?”
Frantic fingers found a slow and thready pulse through the blood that was covering him, soaking into her lap. She tried to shake him awake but didn't get a response.
“No. No. Dean you have to wake up,” Sam groaned from the front of the Impala. “Dean, please.”
I took a shot of cocaine and I shot my woman down.
I went right home and I went to bed,
I stuck that lovin' .44 beneath my head.”
- Cocaine Blues, Johnny Cash
“I'm going with your dad,” three sets of eyes turned in her direction and she steeled her resolve. “He needs someone to watch his back, might as well be me.”
A storm of words erupted around her like she had known there would be. The wet chill in the air made her pull her coat closer even as she compared the two guns in John's hands. They weren't exactly alike but she could make it so they were. All they needed was a little wave of her hand and poof two colts. If Sam and John would just stop talking she could tell them that.
“No way in hell are you-”
“She said come alone-”
“Who's going to watch your-”
“I won't jeopardize-”
Liz met Dean's eye, a shiver going down her back. His brow was pulled together and he hadn't blinked since she'd first spoke but she couldn't tell what was going on in his head. She'd thought she'd figured out most of his looks, it was worrisome that he was so still.
“You're the only one that's gone up against this thing and made it out alive,” his voice was low but both his brother and father stopped. John looked at her in surprise, she briefly wondered if anyone had told him the full story of what happened that night in Palo Alto.
“It wasn't prepared for me. That won't happen again,” he nodded slightly which she hadn't expected. She didn't turn away from him but addressed his family. “I'd like nothing more than to kill that thing myself but we need to play to our strengths. Lincoln is a trap, I can take Meg but THE Demon, it'll just hit harder if I'm there.”
“Liz,” the concern in Sam's voice was palpable.
“Just give me those damn guns.”
She placed both of them on the flat of John's truck and slowly began changing the fake. Centimeter by centimeter the appearances became identical all the while she was aware of the low argument between Sam and John, of Dean standing close. The warmth of his body was making it hard to focus. Something might happen to him, to either of them, and she wouldn't be there to fix it.
When she was done, Liz turned and without the reserve she usually exercised put her arms around Dean's neck. She lightly pressed her lips to his pulse before pulling back to whisper in his ear, “Be careful.”
He cleared his throat after a minute and stepped back, “We'll see you both soon.”
*
Her first instinct had been to tackle Meg but then she'd remembered that hey that was a demon and oh yeah there was two of them. So instead she'd taken a deep breath and sent the nearest object that wasn't bolted down – which turned out to be a filing cabinet of some kind – at Meg knocking the she-thing off her feet as she was bitching about getting shot.
“John go!” she focused as much as she could but still stumbled back. The male demon was stronger than Meg. From the corner of her eye she made out John opening the door, still pushing back as hard as she could she followed.
As soon as the door was shut they both ran, past the holy water John turned on and up through the tunnel back to the truck. The tires were slashed and Liz forced herself to not focus on the fact that everything was going wrong and on the possibility that by the next morning a year of worries and lies could be over.
“This way,” they started running again but only ended up in a dead end.
Liz searched around them and found a heavy door sealed shut. She placed her hand on the lock, managing to get it unlocked just as John was thrown up against the wall. The pressure from both side hit too hard and too fast for her to react.
She crashed through the door, the sound of tearing flesh was the last thing she heard.
*
“You boys really screwed up this time,” Meg's voice coming through his fathers phone made Dean's heart stop. His hands clenched.
“Where is he?”
“You're never going to see your father again,” he snapped his phone shut and took a minute to let the situation sink in. His dad was in demon hands. He knew nothing about Liz.
“They've got dad.”
“Meg?” he gave a small nod. “Liz?”
“I don't know.”
Dean started shoving his belongings into his dufflebag. They needed to leave, they needed to do it now. More demons could be coming for them and the colt. Salvation wasn't safe anymore. His phone ringing stopped him as he shoved the last of his clothes in.
A raspy voice met his ear, “Dean.”
*
Her tank was shoved up so that Bobby could bandage her side, her teeth clenched together to stop from making any noise as he pulled another piece of debris from the wound. Turned out there was a lot of that in an abandoned factory. The shard of metal that had embedded itself in her side – luckily missing all major organs – hadn't been rusted through just a bit fractured.
“You should go to a hospital,” Dean hadn't moved from her side since he'd found her outside of the factory after she had tried to find the demons.
“No. I'll be fine,” she'd had worse. When Bobby had finished she went to pull down her tank before realizing that there was a hole in it and it was crusted with her own blood. “Can I borrow a shirt?”
Liz's bag had been in John's car. Her knapsack with Daniel Elkins journal and her laptop had been with Sam just in case but her clothing had come with her since it had been determined that her and John might not have been able to meet up with the boys after ditching Meg.
*
The broken body of the woman that the demon had used lay in front of her. Her name might have been Meg but they couldn't been sure. She'd been used for a year, watching helplessly as evil was done. This woman who even in as she was dying was trying to help.
More than anything else in the last year, a year of that womans life being taken made her realize that there was never going back. When the demon from Palo Alto was dead that wouldn't end anything. She was a hunter. That's it.
Liz closed her eyes and pressed her hands to either side of the blond head. She couldn't heal the woman, there was too much damage but she could help take away the pain. Dean's shirt was bunched on her lap, the woman's hair sticky with blood, her insides screaming in pain. So much loss from one demon. She hoped Hell was as bad a place as rumors said it was.
That thing deserved it.
*
“I'm trying to thank you.”
“You're welcome,” Sam nodded and went to check on John. He'd passed out as soon as they'd found someplace to stop. Sam had told her that they'd been drugging him which since it was demons holding him, Liz found a bit odd. She hadn't gone with them into the Sunrise Apartments, Dean hadn't let her, so she couldn't say much on it.
Pushing herself off the corner cot, she went to stand in front Dean where he was half sitting on the table. She came just between his legs, close enough to touch him. He didn't look up.
“That guy I shot. There was a person in there.”
“You didn't have a choice.”
“That's not what bothers me,” haunted eyes finally came up to meet hers. “Killing that guy. Killing Meg. I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch. For Sam and dad the things I'm willing to do or kill. It's just... It scares me sometimes.”
Her forehead lightly touched his, her hands took his lacing their fingers together, “It shouldn't. You take care of your family. None of us would be here if you didn't.”
“She's right,” Liz jumped away from Dean almost tripping over his feet as John entered the room.
“You're not mad?”
“For what?” Sam came to stand next to her. One Winchester. Two Winchesters. Three...
“Using a bullet,” she pulled on Dean's outer shirt. That wasn't John.
*
It took everything she had not to move where she was crumpled on the floor. Like she had predicted as soon as the demon had made itself known her involvement had been swiftly dealt with. Liz was fairly certain that the only reason she was alive was because she hadn't taken the offensive. Dean had drawn the colt. Sam had backed him up, reminding her of the person he'd been that had come and gone since Jess. Then it was all a blur.
“What? You think you're the only one that can have a family. You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family? Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still two wrongs don't make a right.”
She didn't think she'd lost consciousness, she'd heard what was going on around her just much more muffled than it should've been. Her head was spinning and, even blinking, everything was blurry around the edges.
“You son of a bitch.”
The colt was on the table. She couldn't get to it without the demon noticing, neither could she aim it where she was. With only three bullets left they couldn't waste one on a crap shot. Sam looked in her direction and she purposefully glanced towards the colt then back at him. He nodded slightly to let her know he got it.
“I want to know why, why'd you do it?” the demon walked to stand in Sam's face.
“You mean why I killed Mommy and pretty little Jess?”
“Yeah.”
“You know I never told you this but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. Had bought the ring and everything. You want to know why? Because they got in the way.”
That wasn't really what she had meant. It was all well and good that it was monologuing, confirming things that had been thought out before plans had been made, but she couldn't very well get the colt to Sam if the demon was in front of him.
“In the way of what?”
“My plans for you Sammy,” she could officially never call him that again. “You and all the children like you.”
Liz took a deep breath, nothing felt broken. Not that it mattered adrenaline alone would keep her from feeling it if there was serious damage.
“Listen you mind just getting this over with 'cause I really just can't stand monologuing,” it crossed to Dean.
“Funny but that's all part of your M.O. isn't it,” using its distraction she levitated the colt. “Mask all that nasty pain, mask the truth.”
The table shattered before hitting it. She rolled to her feet trying to get the gun but it shoved her back, head cracking into the wall. She'd have one hell of a concussion later. It was stronger and had centuries – if not millennia - worth of experience on her.
“You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?” it stood right of reach, even as her arms tried to swat at him.
“I've been told,” she cried out in pain. Her chest being pushed in, her synapses on fire. Everything she had was going into not being completely pinned to the wall. An invisible force enclosed her neck.
“The truth?” Dean yelled from his position, her feet kicked at the wall trying to get loose. “What's that?”
The demon turned back to him, “You know. You fight and fight for this family but the truth is they don't need you, not like you need them. Sam, he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight it's more concern than he's ever shown you.”
“I bet you're real proud of your kids too,” her feet gave out under her as she was released. Blood dripped from Liz's nose from the effort and the violent coughs were bringing up blood. “Oh, wait. I forgot. I wasted them.”
“Dean! No!”
She could see her reflection in the blood and saliva on the floor.
“Dad. Dad, don't you let it kill me.”
“Dean! No!”
Dean was letting out low groans of pain, made almost inaudible by Sam's frantic calls. Ignoring that her body wanted to shut down to recover, she pushed herself to her feet and half fell on the demon. She could feel John struggling to gain control, the demon ignoring him as one would do with a brief annoyance. He was trapped in his own body. Like Meg had been.
“Dad please.”
John grasped on to the mental assistance she was trying to give, managing to get enough control that when she fell back his sons had been released. Liz crawled to Dean, a relieved sigh passing her lips as she felt his pulse.
*
Her head was pounding, she was barely avoiding getting sick. Blood was dripping down the back of her neck were her skull had collided with the window shattering it but that didn't matter. Liz was still half covering Dean from her attempt to shield him from the trucks impact. It hadn't done any good.
“Dean?” his skin was deathly pale, his chest was barely moving. “Dean?”
Frantic fingers found a slow and thready pulse through the blood that was covering him, soaking into her lap. She tried to shake him awake but didn't get a response.
“No. No. Dean you have to wake up,” Sam groaned from the front of the Impala. “Dean, please.”
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
-
vaifeal
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 186
- Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
- Location: somewhere this side of unstable
- Contact:
Re: Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) 3/12
If you're a freak than so am I. Here's your part:
“I'm holding my breath
for a dream gone dead”
- Turning Blue, The Swallows
The early morning sun was making her squint and she didn't have sunglasses.
It was a stupid thought but her mind kept returning to it as she dodged the EMS workers trying to assess her condition. They were getting really annoying, like gnats buzzing around and ignoring the swat of her hand meant to send them away. Fucking medical personnel.
A part of her was aware that the smart thing would be for her to get checked out. She could only self diagnose so much. With a severe concussion, the likelihood of cracked ribs, and the possibility of life threatening injury the hospital was probably a good idea but that all paled to one very key component of her existence: Liz hated any and all references to/involvement with the following:
Doctors. Needles. White rooms. Figures with badges. Along with a plethora of other things.
She was a scientist with first hand knowledge of the inner working of the ups and downs of the medical profession. She was also a slightly green around the gills woman with an alliance to alien royalty. Those things didn't make her an ideal patient.
“Leave me alone,” Liz pulled her arm from the grasp of yet another person with a stethoscope.
The Impala was a mangled mess, they were lucky it hadn't flipped. Hell they were lucky that when Sam had woken up he had been coherent enough to threaten the demon into leaving them alone. She certainly hadn't been. Her hand helped balance herself as her head swam and she searched for her phone. It had been in her back pocket when they had gotten in the car but not when she'd gotten out.
“I swear to god I will put you in the hospital if you don't leave me the hell alone,” the EMS worker stepped back at her vicious retort to the attempt to get her on a gurney. Covered in blood and dirt, she had too look scary.
Sam was yelling out that he wanted to know about his family as they carried him toward the waiting helicopter. They were alive, she knew that. If he relaxed he'd know that too. He'd been taken from the car following procedure. Backboard, neck brace, the works. It was all completely unnecessary. Luckily her door hadn't been off or she might not've been able to avoid the mostly efficient emergency response people.
Doing her best to ignore that it was Dean's blood drying to the seat she pushed her fingers into the gap between the cushions quickly hitting the plastic of her query. She shimmied the phone from its position and held down the number nine after checking that it still worked.
“Evans res-”
“I need you to get to Minnesota and it needs to be now.”
*
He hesitated at the door to his room. He could go with Sam who was going to check on his newly waken father or he could stay with Liz who was had sat down next to him on the bed as soon as his brother had left. Dean turned to the door.
“I know you're here,” he froze before turning back towards her, “listening.”
Her fingers lightly brushed his hair back then lower to glide over his features. He could just make out the subtle way her hand was shaking, the slight hitch to her breathing. Hastily she wiped her cheeks where he could see moisture spread across them.
“In a little while two men are going to come,” she bit her lip and glanced at the door. “One of them will glare at everything, the other is going to help you. He's going to heal you like he did me, without any of the fine print from last time. Max is a genuine healer so please don't freak out. When you wake up I'll answer your questions. I promise I'll answer anything. Just don't fight him.”
*
She'd had to wait until Sam was finished talking to John, hiding behind the door to another room Liz had heard most of what was happening and had stayed away none too patiently for them to finish. Sam and John had to have one of the most dysfunctional functioning father-son relationships that she'd come across.
Deep breath in. Shaky breath out.
It was an unwritten convention that a person didn't lie to the ones they cared about. Doing so was harder than lying to a stranger and the risks inherent were higher. All the time she'd expending on the stories she'd weaved was wearing on her. She closed the door behind her, it was time for a little truth.
“When I tell you I'm going to need you to keep Sam out of Dean's room,” nervous ticks long thought gone were reemerging. “For this to really work he has to not be there. I know you don't trust me but-”
“Sam trusts you,” he said it like that was enough. Such faith in his boys.
Deep breath in. Shaky breath out.
A harsh laugh escaped her lips, “Yeah? Well, that's up for interpretation.”
“Why can't he be in the room?”
“I have some people coming to heal Dean. If Sam's there he'll-”
“- ask why you haven't used them before,” Liz didn't like the way John was looking at her. “Why didn't you? Haven't you thought of how things would be different if you had?”
Every minute of everyday. Everytime she looked at either of his sons.
“I don't have to explain myself to you.”
“When Dean was dying, you could have,” she looked away from the man in the bed. “You were good friends with Jess, you're close to Sam why would you stand back-”
“- Jess is alive!” the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, anger coursing through her. This wasn't the way she'd pictured explaining this to him. “You really think I'd let her die if I had the means to stop it? My friends were on their way to Palo Alto before we even knew how bad the damage was.”
“What?”
The plan had been simple really. Max and the rest of the Pod Squad had arrived in Palo Alto the day after Jess had been admitted and they'd talked through what needed to be done. She'd told them everything she'd known, at the time it wasn't much. Just that a bad man had gone after Jess, she thought it was because of Sam. Her friend needed to be hidden.
Hospital security, visitation patterns, everything had been examined. The rest of the Five had been brought in on the plan but they hadn't been told when the farce would take place. Their reactions needed to be genuine.
It had been pulled off perfectly. Those who had needed to believe Jess was dead, had and Jess was shuttled into anonymity.
“If Sam knew that she was alive and where she was, that demon - the same one that killed your wife - would know too. It'd want to finish the job it started. There's only so much I can protect her from.”
“He won't want to leave Dean.”
“Do what you have to. Start a fight, send him on an errand, I don't care. Just keep him out of that room.”
*
Her heart was still racing from Dean flat-lining when she'd the call that they were in the parking lot. He'd almost died. Liz didn't think that she'd be able to rest until until he was awake, out of the hospital, and personifying Jackass #1 again.
Sam was still in his brothers room, talking to him. Telling him it wasn't time for him to leave them. She'd have liked to hear Dean's remarks if he'd been there. It probably would have provided a desperately needed laugh.
“Hey Sam,” he looked up at her as if waiting for a comment on his chickflick moment, considering who he was related to that wasn't all that surprising. “Your dad wants to talk to you. Something about his release forms.”
“OK. Thanks,” she waited until he was out of the room before giving Max and Michael the all clear.
As soon as they were all in the room, Michael pulled her into a hug. They'd gotten close. Him, her, and Ava. It was an odd conglomeration of persons but it worked and she wouldn't trade it for the world, “You OK.”
She nodded her head as Max spoke, “You're hurt.”
“I'm fine.”
“I can feel the pain coming off you,” as the healer the better he'd gotten at fixing people, the more in touch he was to the things that were wrong.
“Help Dean first,” he grudgingly accepted knowing that she couldn't be swayed and that Michael would back her up.
“I need someone to help me get to him, someone he trusts,” Dean wasn't awake. It was harder to forge a connection. Max needed someone to let him in.
Jess had been in a medically induced coma because of the risk that with her vitals poor she'd go into shock from the severity of the burns, there hadn't been the same problem. It had been easy to numb the pain and wake her up.
“Sam can't know and John's still on bed rest but maybe we can-”
“Liz,” Michael cut her off. He was still glancing at the door suspiciously as if someone unwanted was going to enter at any moment.
“Yeah?”
“What about you?”
*
Dean didn't want to leave his family.
They were in the middle of a war with a demon that would do anything to get to Sam and kill the rest of them. He needed to be around but he didn't want to become another malicious spirit. Didn't want to become a target for some hunter passing through or worse.
There didn't seem to be a miracle cure this time. Facing to Tessa, the reaper, he nodded slightly.
“Dean,” that was Liz's voice. “It's not time to for you to go.”
“Who are you?” Tessa stared at the materialized intruder. The form wasn't completely solid like she was existing in two places at once.
“The woman that's taking him home,” there was pulling in his gut. Not the painful seizure that had gripped him when the reaper had been taking him but something warmer. “You're going to be alright. We'll be there when you wake up.”
The faint feeling of soft lips on his was the last thing he knew.
*
“You're keeping him under?” Max pulled his hand away from where it was on top of hers.
Dean's life felt stronger under her fingers than it had before. A part of her relaxed into that knowledge, “Just for a little bit.”
He nodded. Michael was already checking the hall to make sure they could make a clean get away, “You shouldn't have to worry about a hand print but...”
“I'll keep an eye on it,” Max had gotten better at healing. Had learned how to avoid markings when necessary. It almost always worked.
“Can I?” he motioned to her, to the injuries that she was pushing away by sheer will.
“Yeah.”
*
Sam looked between his dad and Liz again. Something had happened that he wasn't aware of, something to do with Dean. He was sure of it. There wasn't anything unusual about the way they were acting, not individually but taken together it was odd.
Faint movement coming from the bed redirected his attention. The doctors had said that Dean's vitals had improved but they wouldn't be sure of anything until he woke up. If he woke up. His brothers hand moved again and he just had time to yell for a doctor before Dean jerked up choking on the tube down his throat.
*
“Come on.”
“No.”
“You've done it before.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Please?”
“I'm not going to help you break out of the hospital,” Liz gave Dean a devilish smile. “Not yet.”
*
She'd forgotten what it was like not to have to hide around everyone. It had been a relief to see Michael and Max. John was being understanding about her decision. He might not like Sam getting hurt but he couldn't argue with the reasoning. Despite recent happenings, she felt pretty good.
Even if a part of her wished that Dean had remembered his time as an almost ghost. She really would've told him everything.
Shaking her head at the sheer selection available, Liz grabbed a couple of Table Top Pies from the shelf in front of her. John and her had decided to take pity on Dean, hospital food was gross. Gas station gourmet wasn't the best either but each to their own. She definitely wouldn't have chosen frozen burritos.
“I found the pie...” her voice drifted off.
It happened in slow motion. She'd just processed the gun being held to John's head, the twitchy teen holding it yelling orders at the cashier. John was trying to placate the kid, he reached for his wallet to hand over his cash. A cruel smirk and black eyes flashed across the teens features for a moment. The sound of the gun going off was too loud for the confined space.
Dean's pies fell to the floor. She didn't register John's blood sprayed on her face.
Don't hate me. I couldn't save them both and no matter how much I loved John, I couldn't think my way around this.
“I'm holding my breath
for a dream gone dead”
- Turning Blue, The Swallows
The early morning sun was making her squint and she didn't have sunglasses.
It was a stupid thought but her mind kept returning to it as she dodged the EMS workers trying to assess her condition. They were getting really annoying, like gnats buzzing around and ignoring the swat of her hand meant to send them away. Fucking medical personnel.
A part of her was aware that the smart thing would be for her to get checked out. She could only self diagnose so much. With a severe concussion, the likelihood of cracked ribs, and the possibility of life threatening injury the hospital was probably a good idea but that all paled to one very key component of her existence: Liz hated any and all references to/involvement with the following:
Doctors. Needles. White rooms. Figures with badges. Along with a plethora of other things.
She was a scientist with first hand knowledge of the inner working of the ups and downs of the medical profession. She was also a slightly green around the gills woman with an alliance to alien royalty. Those things didn't make her an ideal patient.
“Leave me alone,” Liz pulled her arm from the grasp of yet another person with a stethoscope.
The Impala was a mangled mess, they were lucky it hadn't flipped. Hell they were lucky that when Sam had woken up he had been coherent enough to threaten the demon into leaving them alone. She certainly hadn't been. Her hand helped balance herself as her head swam and she searched for her phone. It had been in her back pocket when they had gotten in the car but not when she'd gotten out.
“I swear to god I will put you in the hospital if you don't leave me the hell alone,” the EMS worker stepped back at her vicious retort to the attempt to get her on a gurney. Covered in blood and dirt, she had too look scary.
Sam was yelling out that he wanted to know about his family as they carried him toward the waiting helicopter. They were alive, she knew that. If he relaxed he'd know that too. He'd been taken from the car following procedure. Backboard, neck brace, the works. It was all completely unnecessary. Luckily her door hadn't been off or she might not've been able to avoid the mostly efficient emergency response people.
Doing her best to ignore that it was Dean's blood drying to the seat she pushed her fingers into the gap between the cushions quickly hitting the plastic of her query. She shimmied the phone from its position and held down the number nine after checking that it still worked.
“Evans res-”
“I need you to get to Minnesota and it needs to be now.”
*
He hesitated at the door to his room. He could go with Sam who was going to check on his newly waken father or he could stay with Liz who was had sat down next to him on the bed as soon as his brother had left. Dean turned to the door.
“I know you're here,” he froze before turning back towards her, “listening.”
Her fingers lightly brushed his hair back then lower to glide over his features. He could just make out the subtle way her hand was shaking, the slight hitch to her breathing. Hastily she wiped her cheeks where he could see moisture spread across them.
“In a little while two men are going to come,” she bit her lip and glanced at the door. “One of them will glare at everything, the other is going to help you. He's going to heal you like he did me, without any of the fine print from last time. Max is a genuine healer so please don't freak out. When you wake up I'll answer your questions. I promise I'll answer anything. Just don't fight him.”
*
She'd had to wait until Sam was finished talking to John, hiding behind the door to another room Liz had heard most of what was happening and had stayed away none too patiently for them to finish. Sam and John had to have one of the most dysfunctional functioning father-son relationships that she'd come across.
Deep breath in. Shaky breath out.
It was an unwritten convention that a person didn't lie to the ones they cared about. Doing so was harder than lying to a stranger and the risks inherent were higher. All the time she'd expending on the stories she'd weaved was wearing on her. She closed the door behind her, it was time for a little truth.
“When I tell you I'm going to need you to keep Sam out of Dean's room,” nervous ticks long thought gone were reemerging. “For this to really work he has to not be there. I know you don't trust me but-”
“Sam trusts you,” he said it like that was enough. Such faith in his boys.
Deep breath in. Shaky breath out.
A harsh laugh escaped her lips, “Yeah? Well, that's up for interpretation.”
“Why can't he be in the room?”
“I have some people coming to heal Dean. If Sam's there he'll-”
“- ask why you haven't used them before,” Liz didn't like the way John was looking at her. “Why didn't you? Haven't you thought of how things would be different if you had?”
Every minute of everyday. Everytime she looked at either of his sons.
“I don't have to explain myself to you.”
“When Dean was dying, you could have,” she looked away from the man in the bed. “You were good friends with Jess, you're close to Sam why would you stand back-”
“- Jess is alive!” the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, anger coursing through her. This wasn't the way she'd pictured explaining this to him. “You really think I'd let her die if I had the means to stop it? My friends were on their way to Palo Alto before we even knew how bad the damage was.”
“What?”
The plan had been simple really. Max and the rest of the Pod Squad had arrived in Palo Alto the day after Jess had been admitted and they'd talked through what needed to be done. She'd told them everything she'd known, at the time it wasn't much. Just that a bad man had gone after Jess, she thought it was because of Sam. Her friend needed to be hidden.
Hospital security, visitation patterns, everything had been examined. The rest of the Five had been brought in on the plan but they hadn't been told when the farce would take place. Their reactions needed to be genuine.
It had been pulled off perfectly. Those who had needed to believe Jess was dead, had and Jess was shuttled into anonymity.
“If Sam knew that she was alive and where she was, that demon - the same one that killed your wife - would know too. It'd want to finish the job it started. There's only so much I can protect her from.”
“He won't want to leave Dean.”
“Do what you have to. Start a fight, send him on an errand, I don't care. Just keep him out of that room.”
*
Her heart was still racing from Dean flat-lining when she'd the call that they were in the parking lot. He'd almost died. Liz didn't think that she'd be able to rest until until he was awake, out of the hospital, and personifying Jackass #1 again.
Sam was still in his brothers room, talking to him. Telling him it wasn't time for him to leave them. She'd have liked to hear Dean's remarks if he'd been there. It probably would have provided a desperately needed laugh.
“Hey Sam,” he looked up at her as if waiting for a comment on his chickflick moment, considering who he was related to that wasn't all that surprising. “Your dad wants to talk to you. Something about his release forms.”
“OK. Thanks,” she waited until he was out of the room before giving Max and Michael the all clear.
As soon as they were all in the room, Michael pulled her into a hug. They'd gotten close. Him, her, and Ava. It was an odd conglomeration of persons but it worked and she wouldn't trade it for the world, “You OK.”
She nodded her head as Max spoke, “You're hurt.”
“I'm fine.”
“I can feel the pain coming off you,” as the healer the better he'd gotten at fixing people, the more in touch he was to the things that were wrong.
“Help Dean first,” he grudgingly accepted knowing that she couldn't be swayed and that Michael would back her up.
“I need someone to help me get to him, someone he trusts,” Dean wasn't awake. It was harder to forge a connection. Max needed someone to let him in.
Jess had been in a medically induced coma because of the risk that with her vitals poor she'd go into shock from the severity of the burns, there hadn't been the same problem. It had been easy to numb the pain and wake her up.
“Sam can't know and John's still on bed rest but maybe we can-”
“Liz,” Michael cut her off. He was still glancing at the door suspiciously as if someone unwanted was going to enter at any moment.
“Yeah?”
“What about you?”
*
Dean didn't want to leave his family.
They were in the middle of a war with a demon that would do anything to get to Sam and kill the rest of them. He needed to be around but he didn't want to become another malicious spirit. Didn't want to become a target for some hunter passing through or worse.
There didn't seem to be a miracle cure this time. Facing to Tessa, the reaper, he nodded slightly.
“Dean,” that was Liz's voice. “It's not time to for you to go.”
“Who are you?” Tessa stared at the materialized intruder. The form wasn't completely solid like she was existing in two places at once.
“The woman that's taking him home,” there was pulling in his gut. Not the painful seizure that had gripped him when the reaper had been taking him but something warmer. “You're going to be alright. We'll be there when you wake up.”
The faint feeling of soft lips on his was the last thing he knew.
*
“You're keeping him under?” Max pulled his hand away from where it was on top of hers.
Dean's life felt stronger under her fingers than it had before. A part of her relaxed into that knowledge, “Just for a little bit.”
He nodded. Michael was already checking the hall to make sure they could make a clean get away, “You shouldn't have to worry about a hand print but...”
“I'll keep an eye on it,” Max had gotten better at healing. Had learned how to avoid markings when necessary. It almost always worked.
“Can I?” he motioned to her, to the injuries that she was pushing away by sheer will.
“Yeah.”
*
Sam looked between his dad and Liz again. Something had happened that he wasn't aware of, something to do with Dean. He was sure of it. There wasn't anything unusual about the way they were acting, not individually but taken together it was odd.
Faint movement coming from the bed redirected his attention. The doctors had said that Dean's vitals had improved but they wouldn't be sure of anything until he woke up. If he woke up. His brothers hand moved again and he just had time to yell for a doctor before Dean jerked up choking on the tube down his throat.
*
“Come on.”
“No.”
“You've done it before.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Please?”
“I'm not going to help you break out of the hospital,” Liz gave Dean a devilish smile. “Not yet.”
*
She'd forgotten what it was like not to have to hide around everyone. It had been a relief to see Michael and Max. John was being understanding about her decision. He might not like Sam getting hurt but he couldn't argue with the reasoning. Despite recent happenings, she felt pretty good.
Even if a part of her wished that Dean had remembered his time as an almost ghost. She really would've told him everything.
Shaking her head at the sheer selection available, Liz grabbed a couple of Table Top Pies from the shelf in front of her. John and her had decided to take pity on Dean, hospital food was gross. Gas station gourmet wasn't the best either but each to their own. She definitely wouldn't have chosen frozen burritos.
“I found the pie...” her voice drifted off.
It happened in slow motion. She'd just processed the gun being held to John's head, the twitchy teen holding it yelling orders at the cashier. John was trying to placate the kid, he reached for his wallet to hand over his cash. A cruel smirk and black eyes flashed across the teens features for a moment. The sound of the gun going off was too loud for the confined space.
Dean's pies fell to the floor. She didn't register John's blood sprayed on her face.
Don't hate me. I couldn't save them both and no matter how much I loved John, I couldn't think my way around this.
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
-
vaifeal
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 186
- Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
- Location: somewhere this side of unstable
- Contact:
Re: Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) 3/16
“I am destroyed by the inside.
I disassociate.
I hope to destroy the outside.
It will alleviate and elevate me.
Like water flowing into lungs, I'm flowing through these days
Like morphine drops through, through deadened veins I'm numbing in these days”
- Bleed Black, AFI
Liz was staring out the window again lost in her own dark thoughts. Sam was worried about her. The first response people had said she was in shock when he had arrived on the scene to find his fathers body being removed and Liz unresponsive. Back at the hospital Dean had taken her by the shoulders, shaking her as he demanded to know what happened.
She'd blinked once and focused on him but hadn't said a word.
He could count on one hand how many times she'd spoken since. It wasn't like Liz. She dealt with things, found solutions, fought back. When Dani had almost been expelled, she'd looked up every bylaw that Stanford had on the books until finding away around the infraction. When they'd gotten stranded one night with no way back to their apartments, she'd flirted a cab away from some poor schmuck. When Jess had died, she'd joined the hunt for what had done it.
This wasn't her. Sam watched through the sideview mirror of the rundown minivan Bobby had lent them as her eyes dropped shut. He knew she hadn't been sleeping well. Almost every night he'd be woken by her nightmares or wake to find her sitting in a chair staring into space.
It wasn't all that surprising. The police had said that when they'd arrived the kid, the demon – that much they'd gotten out of Liz - had been about to fire so they'd fired first. He wished he could help her more but he wasn't sure how to deal with losing his dad and Dean was only pretending to be alright.
He had no idea how they were suppose to get through this.
*
John's blood was slowly trickling down her face tickling her features and soaking through her jeans from where the demon had made her kneel. The hot tip of the pistol was pressed into her forehead. There was no one else left in the store. They were all either dead or had run out when given the chance.
It just wanted her. It just wanted John.
Little bits of skull littered the floor. What little was left of the the eldest Winchester's face was still frozen in shock. She didn't want to see him laying there but she couldn't look away, couldn't look up into the face of that poor boy as a demon made him kill her.
The gun clicked and she braced herself for the shot.
Liz woke with a jerk and grabbed at the shaking her, twisting it viciously, “Ah, dammit Liz.”
She dropped Sam's hand smiling apologetically. Her hair was sticking to her neck where a pool of sweat had gathered, she pulled it away impatiently. They were parked in front of a run down bar. He should've left her at Bobby's, she didn't want to be here.
“Sorry.”
“Are you ok?” he was looking at her with concern. It was an expression she was getting very familiar with.
“Yes,” no. she really wasn't.
*
“Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again, including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once.”
“Oh, yeah? How come he's never mentioned you before?”
“You'd have to ask him that,” Liz's eyes jumped to his brothers face to catch the subtle flash of pain there. It was the first time she'd looked away from the floor since she'd taken a seat. Sam wasn't sure if he was more relieved for the movement or worried that it'd add to her misplaced guilt.
He'd tried to talk to about what happened. About Dean's recovery which he would put money on her knowing something about – his dad and her had been too suspicious. About the shooting. About how there was nothing she could've done. He'd even yelled at her trying to get some sort of response. It hadn't worked so well.
“So why exactly do we need your help?”
“Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if...” Liz's breathing was getting shallow. Her body shaking. “He didn't send you,” the glasses behind the bar clinked together. “He is alright, isn't he?”
“No. No, he isn't. It was the demon,” Dean was looking at Liz now, “we think. It, um... just got him before he got it, I guess.”
Tables and chairs started to shake. The guy on the pool table woke as the light above his head flickered on and off. The cups and bottles behind the bar were precariously close to falling from their place. His brother grabbed her shoulders, “Liz.”
She pushed him away and avoided Sam's hands. The door slammed open on its own and she was gone.
*
She'd calmed down enough to reenter the bar, ignoring the inquisitive looks that were coming her way which meant that neither one of the Winchester's had bothered to explain her little power display. Since John had died her abilities had been out of hand when anyone talked about him. That's why she'd been staying away from people who did.
Dean took the seat next to her, his hand resting on the back of her chair, his fingers lightly playing with the strands of hair at the base of her neck. Jo, the girl who actually made Liz look her age, was talking to him. There was a subtle hint of flirtation there but he wasn't reciprocating so she didn't care.
“I'm sorry about your dad.”
“Yeah,” he dropped her hair before his hand dipped below the collar of her shirt. It was an intimate gesture but one meant more for mutual comfort than anything else. Innately she turned into the touch and Jo walked away.
*
“I'm not going.”
“What?” Sam whipped around so hard she was afraid he'd get whiplash.
“I don't do carnivals,” the last one she'd been had resulted in the FBI had starting a war.
He looked at her as if trying to read her and she tried not to fidget, “Ok.”
*
Jess tripped over the blanket that had been spread across her lap as she searched for the phone. It was one of the quirks about living with Dani, little things often went missing. Remote. Spatula. Keys. Chargers. Chapstick. Phones. Anything that wasn't securely fastened to something larger was lost without exception for a period not exceeding two weeks.
“Stanford Asylum.”
“Nice,” there was a quiet snort. “How are you baby girl?”
Liz wouldn't say her name, always paranoid that she'd be overheard. She wasn't sure where baby girl came from, “I'm good. You?”
They hadn't heard from her in over a week. Not since Serena had received her text message that John Winchester had died. It had taken all three of the other occupants of the brownstone to keep her from going to be there for Sam, “I'm ok.”
“No you're not.”
“No, I'm not.”
“What... what happened?”
“He was shot and he died,” Jess didn't like the tone of her friends voice. That was Liz at her worst.
“Liz.”
“That's what happened.”
“Liz.”
“What do you want me to say? That a demon splattered his brains across a cheap cornerstore linoleum floor while I watched? That what you want?”
“I want...”
“What?”
“I want you to not sound like you're going to take a pickax to the next person who shows any form of concern for you. Dammit Liz you sound like you did when your dad died.”
“... I should've know that it was there.”
“You couldn't have.”
The silence stretched out, “I'm having boundary issues with Sam.”
Despite the sudden topic change, Jess laughed. Her only interaction with Sam came through Liz and her friend always told stories that made her feel like she had been there. Her feel as if she'd been there. The sarcasm and fondness for the Winchester's always came through.
Especially for Dean, lately he was a highlight , “How so?”
“He's trying to cross all of them,” that did sound like her boyfriend, trying to fix everyones issues but his own. Focusing on Liz would take attention away from his dad.
“That was bound to happen.”
“He's convinced I saved Dean,” Liz always did have phone ADD.
“You kind of did.”
“No I didn't. I made a phone call. There's nothing heroish about speed dial.”
“You mean heroic?”
“That's what I said,” Jess laughed again and settled down in one of the chairs overlooking the backyard while listening to mumbles about clowns.
*
“Sam said you were there when John was killed,” the girl, Liz, had been more relaxed since her phone call and had even got into a fight with Ash - when he'd emerged from his room for a break - over some theory using terms that went over the heads of most of her other patrons but as soon as Ellen had spoken the tension returned.
“Yeah well Sam has a big mouth.”
“John knew what he was getting to when he went after that demon. He knew the dangers,” the girls jaw tightened. “That was an impressive show earlier. What was that?”
“Something you've never seen before.”
*
“So are you and Dean together?” Liz didn't manage to mask the eye roll at Jo's question. The little girl had been itching to ask it since the Winchester's had left on the hunt. It was a surprise she'd lasted so long.
“When I figure that out, you'll be the first to know.”
*
“Your dad loved you,” Sam didn't respond and Liz felt another shiver of guilt. She'd been so out of it that she hadn't been there for one of her best friends when he had needed her. “He was so proud of you even when you were fighting.”
“Liz.”
“He wanted you to be happy he just didn't know how to tell you. You have to remember that Sam.”
*
She could tell that something was off when Dean stomped his way into Bobby's and up to the room he'd been staying in. Hesitantly she climbed the stairs after him. Liz wasn't sure if she had a place with him. He hadn't pushed her away but they hadn't spoken since it had happened. Not really.
He had his shirt off, sweat dripped down his back. His goal, she could tell, was a shower but he was just standing there bare backed. Her fingers gently touched him to let him know she was there. There was so many things she wanted to say. It wasn't the right time.
Without a word he sat on the bed and pulled her close. She felt him shake but just held him tighter.
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
-
vaifeal
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 186
- Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
- Location: somewhere this side of unstable
- Contact:
Re: Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) 3/19
No offense to anyone who actually enjoys the following film.
“And we who must remain
go on living just the same”
- My Man, The Eagles
Her socked feet slid across the cheap vinyl like duvet cover, the stiff motel pillow propping her up. Dean sat next to her, legs spread out before him, unfortunately in control of the remote control. There was yet another horrible movie on that he refused to change even though she knew that they were playing Jurassic Park on another channel.
Sniper 3 could only be stomached so many times.
“Please tell me you don't actually enjoy this crap.”
“What's not to like,” he was purposefully annoying her. The subtle wince as yet another poorly written line of dialogue was delivered with less skill than a trained chimp could manage.
There were bad movies than there were BAD movies. Even Dean didn't favor the latter.
Quickly Liz darted across the bed reaching for the remote in his farthest hand, ignoring that she could very well change the television with her mind. He moved it before she could get to it, one arm coming around her waist to limit her movement as she squirmed reaching for the small black object.
They continued like that for a couple of minutes until Dean stilled enough for her to grab the remote. Smiling triumphantly she met his eyes and flushed. She was straddled over his waist on bended knees, each movement more erotic than it had any right to be. Her breathing shallowed as she caught his eye.
He was an intense man no matter how well he acted like nothing bothered him. Dark green met darkening brown and Liz felt herself move forward. Their lips barely touched when the sound of a key in the lock broke them apart. She hastily flopped back to where she had been, heart beating madly.
Sam entered barely glancing in their direction. When it was over, she was going to have to talk to him about his timing.
*
The Roadhouse looked exactly as it had the last time they'd stopped through, just a little more crowded. Jo smiled at them, at Dean, when they entered. It's brightness only tempered by years of being around hunters and knowing not to seem too eager. Liz didn't bother to refrain from rolling her eyes.
“Just can't stay away, huh?”
“It's the ambiance,” Jo flushed slightly at the barb and finished busing a table. The girl was innocent enough but the continuous passes at Dean were wearing thin.
Damn Sam and his desire to check his theories with Ash. She'd told him that she could check them for him, any damage done to her laptop had been fixed with her handy dandy powers: that argument hadn't swayed him in the least. If she didn't know how paranoid he was with the whole 'special children', psycho Max, demon plan thingy she'd have been insulted.
As it was, the only person she wanted to hurt was Jo but that might've been the sexual frustration talking.
*
Dean's gut was telling him that Andy wasn't their guy. So was Liz's. Sam was too wrapped up in convincing himself that he was going to turn into Jack the Ripper that he wasn't thinking past his vision. She'd have to talk to him about that.
“Oh, come on. This is... this is magnificent, that's what this is. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no little clown paintings on the walls or scissors stuck in victims' photos. I like the tiger.”
Sometimes Liz really questioned her taste in men.
“Are you sure you're not a little bald man in polyester?” Sam muffled a choked laugh and Dean looked at her indignant. The van was a seventies pimp mobile. It belonged in a tacky museum.
“You can't hate this masterpiece,” she blinked slowly. If he wasn't so fucking hot...
“Seriously?”
“What?”
She opened her mouth to respond but couldn't find the words. Instead she just shook her head and walked away.
*
“I have... an evil twin,” Andy was still sitting in shock.
It was a big, world shaking, foundation breaking, kind of revelation. She felt bad for him. Liz liked Andy. He was goofy, the kind of guy a lot of girls kept around without realizing how great they really were until someone else scooped them up. He reminded her of Alex in a way. That was enough to make sure that the evil twin left him alone.
And stopped killing people but that having to end went without being said.
Dead bodies on main street weren't exactly inconspicuous, all these crackhead psycho killers were playing with exposure. All they needed was one paranoid anal retentive dirtbag – also known as a federal agent – and they'd be made.
Someone like Sam without people to temper them. They'd all end up in white rooms. The demon's plans be damned.
*
The tree branch and the woman swinging it at Sam's head caught her off guard, it shouldn't have. Both her and Andy looked to Ansem or Webber or whatever the hell his name was. He pulled off the duct tape, standing with a slight wince. She could see that was Sam was still breathing, felt the rage build up.
Stupid twats like him did not get to win.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Tracy making her way towards the edge of the dam and halted the movement. The thing about practice was, no matter what a person was doing, they'd get better at it. Ansem was right, some gestures were superfluous: like using her hand.
“Back off, Andy. Tracy's gonna do a little flying,” his smirk slipped when he saw the woman a foot from her destination, frozen in tears.
“No she won't,” Ansem turned his attention to Liz. The command in his eyes clear. “It's not so fun when your hoodoo doesn't work, is it?”
“I'm stronger than you,” he didn't sound so sure.
“No, you're really not.”
Her attention slipped momentarily and Tracy took a step forward. Liz stopped her, sending Ansem into his piece of crap car. The skin on her hands was tingling with suppressed power especially once Andy took over dealing with Tracy. Mr Evil Twin was the only one she had to pay attention to.
“This isn't the way he said it...” her hand stopped where it was hovering over his head.
“Who?”
“The man with the yellow eyes.”
“What'd he say?” Sam shifted on the ground, finally coming to. The man in front of her shifted to look at something behind him. “What'd he say?”
“I see you.”
Dean. They'd left him behind because he could be influenced. She should've known he wouldn't have been happy with not being involved. Her hands latched on to Ansem's head before he would react. Raw power ripped through his mind, shifting things that shouldn't be moved.
Molecular manipulation. She'd seen it used to cause deaths more painful than even the most talented torture specialists could come up with. It was a nasty way to go out especially if the person employing it didn't temper the sensations.
Liz wasn't.
Ansem wilted under her hands faster than she expected. Taking a step away, she barely glancing at the body instead helping Sam stand. They'd classify it as a burst aneurysm even if Andy didn't do his mind control thing. She didn't regret it. No one that wanted to do harm to the people she cared about would get close enough, not any more. Not if she could avoid it.
*
“You're letting your visions cloud your judgment,” Sam didn't move from where he was leaning against the side of the Roadhouse. “You should meditate. It helps.”
“How's that?” it was more a 'tell me one of your secrets' question than a 'how would you know' question.
With all the worry heaped on his shoulders, Liz could give him at least that. The thing with the demon and no colt to fight back with, the war that they could all feel coming but didn't want to admit to, the risk that Sam really could be manipulated into being like Max or Ansem... They didn't have any answers and it was weighing on them.
John had left a huge fucking mess behind.
“When I first got my abilities, I was a mess. They hurt so much it was impossible to function. I couldn't focus. I kept hearing things that weren't there. It was like my DNA was being rewritten,” it had been in a sense. She'd been experiencing the tail end of a process that had started when Max healed her. “I went out to the Indian Reservation to talk to an old friend of my grandmothers,” Claudia had known Riverdog, “and he helped me deal. One of the things he taught me was that meditating helps you find your center and settle the energy flowing through you. It could help Sam.”
"I'll give it a shot."
“And we who must remain
go on living just the same”
- My Man, The Eagles
Her socked feet slid across the cheap vinyl like duvet cover, the stiff motel pillow propping her up. Dean sat next to her, legs spread out before him, unfortunately in control of the remote control. There was yet another horrible movie on that he refused to change even though she knew that they were playing Jurassic Park on another channel.
Sniper 3 could only be stomached so many times.
“Please tell me you don't actually enjoy this crap.”
“What's not to like,” he was purposefully annoying her. The subtle wince as yet another poorly written line of dialogue was delivered with less skill than a trained chimp could manage.
There were bad movies than there were BAD movies. Even Dean didn't favor the latter.
Quickly Liz darted across the bed reaching for the remote in his farthest hand, ignoring that she could very well change the television with her mind. He moved it before she could get to it, one arm coming around her waist to limit her movement as she squirmed reaching for the small black object.
They continued like that for a couple of minutes until Dean stilled enough for her to grab the remote. Smiling triumphantly she met his eyes and flushed. She was straddled over his waist on bended knees, each movement more erotic than it had any right to be. Her breathing shallowed as she caught his eye.
He was an intense man no matter how well he acted like nothing bothered him. Dark green met darkening brown and Liz felt herself move forward. Their lips barely touched when the sound of a key in the lock broke them apart. She hastily flopped back to where she had been, heart beating madly.
Sam entered barely glancing in their direction. When it was over, she was going to have to talk to him about his timing.
*
The Roadhouse looked exactly as it had the last time they'd stopped through, just a little more crowded. Jo smiled at them, at Dean, when they entered. It's brightness only tempered by years of being around hunters and knowing not to seem too eager. Liz didn't bother to refrain from rolling her eyes.
“Just can't stay away, huh?”
“It's the ambiance,” Jo flushed slightly at the barb and finished busing a table. The girl was innocent enough but the continuous passes at Dean were wearing thin.
Damn Sam and his desire to check his theories with Ash. She'd told him that she could check them for him, any damage done to her laptop had been fixed with her handy dandy powers: that argument hadn't swayed him in the least. If she didn't know how paranoid he was with the whole 'special children', psycho Max, demon plan thingy she'd have been insulted.
As it was, the only person she wanted to hurt was Jo but that might've been the sexual frustration talking.
*
Dean's gut was telling him that Andy wasn't their guy. So was Liz's. Sam was too wrapped up in convincing himself that he was going to turn into Jack the Ripper that he wasn't thinking past his vision. She'd have to talk to him about that.
“Oh, come on. This is... this is magnificent, that's what this is. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no little clown paintings on the walls or scissors stuck in victims' photos. I like the tiger.”
Sometimes Liz really questioned her taste in men.
“Are you sure you're not a little bald man in polyester?” Sam muffled a choked laugh and Dean looked at her indignant. The van was a seventies pimp mobile. It belonged in a tacky museum.
“You can't hate this masterpiece,” she blinked slowly. If he wasn't so fucking hot...
“Seriously?”
“What?”
She opened her mouth to respond but couldn't find the words. Instead she just shook her head and walked away.
*
“I have... an evil twin,” Andy was still sitting in shock.
It was a big, world shaking, foundation breaking, kind of revelation. She felt bad for him. Liz liked Andy. He was goofy, the kind of guy a lot of girls kept around without realizing how great they really were until someone else scooped them up. He reminded her of Alex in a way. That was enough to make sure that the evil twin left him alone.
And stopped killing people but that having to end went without being said.
Dead bodies on main street weren't exactly inconspicuous, all these crackhead psycho killers were playing with exposure. All they needed was one paranoid anal retentive dirtbag – also known as a federal agent – and they'd be made.
Someone like Sam without people to temper them. They'd all end up in white rooms. The demon's plans be damned.
*
The tree branch and the woman swinging it at Sam's head caught her off guard, it shouldn't have. Both her and Andy looked to Ansem or Webber or whatever the hell his name was. He pulled off the duct tape, standing with a slight wince. She could see that was Sam was still breathing, felt the rage build up.
Stupid twats like him did not get to win.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Tracy making her way towards the edge of the dam and halted the movement. The thing about practice was, no matter what a person was doing, they'd get better at it. Ansem was right, some gestures were superfluous: like using her hand.
“Back off, Andy. Tracy's gonna do a little flying,” his smirk slipped when he saw the woman a foot from her destination, frozen in tears.
“No she won't,” Ansem turned his attention to Liz. The command in his eyes clear. “It's not so fun when your hoodoo doesn't work, is it?”
“I'm stronger than you,” he didn't sound so sure.
“No, you're really not.”
Her attention slipped momentarily and Tracy took a step forward. Liz stopped her, sending Ansem into his piece of crap car. The skin on her hands was tingling with suppressed power especially once Andy took over dealing with Tracy. Mr Evil Twin was the only one she had to pay attention to.
“This isn't the way he said it...” her hand stopped where it was hovering over his head.
“Who?”
“The man with the yellow eyes.”
“What'd he say?” Sam shifted on the ground, finally coming to. The man in front of her shifted to look at something behind him. “What'd he say?”
“I see you.”
Dean. They'd left him behind because he could be influenced. She should've known he wouldn't have been happy with not being involved. Her hands latched on to Ansem's head before he would react. Raw power ripped through his mind, shifting things that shouldn't be moved.
Molecular manipulation. She'd seen it used to cause deaths more painful than even the most talented torture specialists could come up with. It was a nasty way to go out especially if the person employing it didn't temper the sensations.
Liz wasn't.
Ansem wilted under her hands faster than she expected. Taking a step away, she barely glancing at the body instead helping Sam stand. They'd classify it as a burst aneurysm even if Andy didn't do his mind control thing. She didn't regret it. No one that wanted to do harm to the people she cared about would get close enough, not any more. Not if she could avoid it.
*
“You're letting your visions cloud your judgment,” Sam didn't move from where he was leaning against the side of the Roadhouse. “You should meditate. It helps.”
“How's that?” it was more a 'tell me one of your secrets' question than a 'how would you know' question.
With all the worry heaped on his shoulders, Liz could give him at least that. The thing with the demon and no colt to fight back with, the war that they could all feel coming but didn't want to admit to, the risk that Sam really could be manipulated into being like Max or Ansem... They didn't have any answers and it was weighing on them.
John had left a huge fucking mess behind.
“When I first got my abilities, I was a mess. They hurt so much it was impossible to function. I couldn't focus. I kept hearing things that weren't there. It was like my DNA was being rewritten,” it had been in a sense. She'd been experiencing the tail end of a process that had started when Max healed her. “I went out to the Indian Reservation to talk to an old friend of my grandmothers,” Claudia had known Riverdog, “and he helped me deal. One of the things he taught me was that meditating helps you find your center and settle the energy flowing through you. It could help Sam.”
"I'll give it a shot."
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
-
vaifeal
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 186
- Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
- Location: somewhere this side of unstable
- Contact:
Re: Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) 3/23
Sorry it's so late but there were familial obligations for the holiday the Christians call Easter and sorry about the typos I'm kinda falling asleep.
“And who's to say it's wrong
And who's to say that it's not right”
- Hundred, The Fray
She'd killed a man.
Liz had killed a man, not a thing, not an alien... a man.
And she didn't regret it. Dean had said that sometimes the things that he was willing to do for his family scared him. It didn't scare her. That kind of fear had been removed long before the Winchester's had entered the picture. Federal agents taking shots at you tended to do that.
Sam had been concerned about the implications of her actions. Something about psychological scaring or some such bullshit. She'd been touched that he was worried but it was completely unnecessary. Serena had said it best:
When action needs to be taken, there isn't time for regret.
*
The switch blade in her pocket was a nasty piece of work picked up off the black market in Detroit after an easy salt-and-burn job. Three point five inches, serrated, and sharp enough to cut through skin like butter, it was Liz's personal favorite. If only for the fact that Dean was teaching her to throw it. At the moment she could get it to stick in the general direction she threw it in.
She thought that was a great accomplishment.
He laughed at her enthusiasm.
Jo leaned into Dean's side, her smile sickeningly sweet as she handed over a roll of dollar bills that one might find in possession of a hooker. Apparently the girl had never heard of subtle or marked territory. Really, it was ridiculous.
Liz thought that they'd been fairly obvious lately. Hell, even Sam who generally adopted a 'don't ask don't tell' policy concerning his brothers exploits was giving them knowing if not perplexed looks. To be frank, they were eye-fucking. Honest to god, I'd-let-you-take-me-right-here, eye-fucking.
For her interference, Jo would have to die.
*
“No. Absolutely not. I'm not letting some wet behind the ears newbie,” Liz was aware that she was echoing Dean's sentiments from a year previous, “use herself as bait.”
“Liz-”
“It jeopardizes the hunt and Ellen would kill us. I don't know about you but I'm fond of my life, I'd like to keep it. You should've sent her back to her mother.”
“She wouldn't have gone.”
“I'm standing right here,” they both ignored her.
“This is completely irresponsible.”
Dean tossed his hands up frustrated and not able to show it the way he would usually do with Sam, “She's not going anywhere. What do you want me to do?”
She gently gnawed her lip ignoring the pointed look he gave it, “I might have an idea.”
*
It was with a vindictive glee that she watched the newly turned brunette Jo – curtsy of alien juice – walk in the opposite direction with Sam. The girl had been anything since forgiving since Liz had waved her hands but she could careless. After all in Jo's case it was true what they said:
Blonds might have more fun but brunettes could read.
And dammit if she wasn't enjoying her higher IQ. There was that and the fact that she was temporarily blond. It was the best of both worlds minus the whole being bait for the ghost of the mass murderer of mass murderers.
Dust and spiderwebs tickled her nose as she trailed behind Dean. The whole behind the wall thing was just as repulsive as it sounded. Eighty some-odd years of dirt and grime and Liz got to partake in it.
“It's too narrow. We can't go any further.”
She peaked around him and gave him a grin, “Being a midget has its perks. I can fit.”
There was barely enough room for her to get past him. Her jacket scrapped across the wall and heat flushed her skin. It wasn't exactly the way she had pictured being pressed up against him. A low groan emitted from the back of his throat. Maybe it wasn't so bad.
His fingers brushed against the skin of her midsection where her shirt had ridden up. Liz stilled her own fingers caught in one of his belt loops. With a slight lift to her feet, his breath tickled her cheeks. His lips descended on hers, they were softer than they had any right to be.
Trying to use the wall as leverage, she pushed herself closer. Without thought she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, her mind already erasing her location even as plaster got stuck in her hair. Her whole body was tingled as Dean's hand cupped the back of her head.
It was a peculiar feeling, one her mom called warm chills. Liz called it a full body slam that left you reeling.
He pulled away, his forehead resting on hers, “You sure?”
“Uh-huh,” Liz tried to blink away the fog. She wasn't actually sure what he was asking.
“Stay on the phone the hole time.”
Slipping past him with a nod, only slightly embarrassed that her feet hadn't really been touching the floor, she shuffled down the narrow part of the gap.
It felt like walking into the lions den.
*
“You're so pretty... so beautiful,” Holmes approached her as she tried keep her heart from following her lunch in its attempt to escape its confines. The small cabinet size cells her and Teresa had been kept in were on either side of them.
The man really was a sick fuck.
“I'm also brunette you stupid son of a bitch,” two shotguns went off behind her as she dove out of the ring of salt.
*
The Pabst was making her fingers cold as condensation dripped down the bottle to pool on the table. She wasn't really going to drink it, it was more holding place until Ash could swipe it after she left but it gave her something to concentrate on beside the yelling from the back.
“So Ellen's scary.”
Ash's mullet swayed slightly as he nodded, “That she is.”
“And who's to say it's wrong
And who's to say that it's not right”
- Hundred, The Fray
She'd killed a man.
Liz had killed a man, not a thing, not an alien... a man.
And she didn't regret it. Dean had said that sometimes the things that he was willing to do for his family scared him. It didn't scare her. That kind of fear had been removed long before the Winchester's had entered the picture. Federal agents taking shots at you tended to do that.
Sam had been concerned about the implications of her actions. Something about psychological scaring or some such bullshit. She'd been touched that he was worried but it was completely unnecessary. Serena had said it best:
When action needs to be taken, there isn't time for regret.
*
The switch blade in her pocket was a nasty piece of work picked up off the black market in Detroit after an easy salt-and-burn job. Three point five inches, serrated, and sharp enough to cut through skin like butter, it was Liz's personal favorite. If only for the fact that Dean was teaching her to throw it. At the moment she could get it to stick in the general direction she threw it in.
She thought that was a great accomplishment.
He laughed at her enthusiasm.
Jo leaned into Dean's side, her smile sickeningly sweet as she handed over a roll of dollar bills that one might find in possession of a hooker. Apparently the girl had never heard of subtle or marked territory. Really, it was ridiculous.
Liz thought that they'd been fairly obvious lately. Hell, even Sam who generally adopted a 'don't ask don't tell' policy concerning his brothers exploits was giving them knowing if not perplexed looks. To be frank, they were eye-fucking. Honest to god, I'd-let-you-take-me-right-here, eye-fucking.
For her interference, Jo would have to die.
*
“No. Absolutely not. I'm not letting some wet behind the ears newbie,” Liz was aware that she was echoing Dean's sentiments from a year previous, “use herself as bait.”
“Liz-”
“It jeopardizes the hunt and Ellen would kill us. I don't know about you but I'm fond of my life, I'd like to keep it. You should've sent her back to her mother.”
“She wouldn't have gone.”
“I'm standing right here,” they both ignored her.
“This is completely irresponsible.”
Dean tossed his hands up frustrated and not able to show it the way he would usually do with Sam, “She's not going anywhere. What do you want me to do?”
She gently gnawed her lip ignoring the pointed look he gave it, “I might have an idea.”
*
It was with a vindictive glee that she watched the newly turned brunette Jo – curtsy of alien juice – walk in the opposite direction with Sam. The girl had been anything since forgiving since Liz had waved her hands but she could careless. After all in Jo's case it was true what they said:
Blonds might have more fun but brunettes could read.
And dammit if she wasn't enjoying her higher IQ. There was that and the fact that she was temporarily blond. It was the best of both worlds minus the whole being bait for the ghost of the mass murderer of mass murderers.
Dust and spiderwebs tickled her nose as she trailed behind Dean. The whole behind the wall thing was just as repulsive as it sounded. Eighty some-odd years of dirt and grime and Liz got to partake in it.
“It's too narrow. We can't go any further.”
She peaked around him and gave him a grin, “Being a midget has its perks. I can fit.”
There was barely enough room for her to get past him. Her jacket scrapped across the wall and heat flushed her skin. It wasn't exactly the way she had pictured being pressed up against him. A low groan emitted from the back of his throat. Maybe it wasn't so bad.
His fingers brushed against the skin of her midsection where her shirt had ridden up. Liz stilled her own fingers caught in one of his belt loops. With a slight lift to her feet, his breath tickled her cheeks. His lips descended on hers, they were softer than they had any right to be.
Trying to use the wall as leverage, she pushed herself closer. Without thought she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, her mind already erasing her location even as plaster got stuck in her hair. Her whole body was tingled as Dean's hand cupped the back of her head.
It was a peculiar feeling, one her mom called warm chills. Liz called it a full body slam that left you reeling.
He pulled away, his forehead resting on hers, “You sure?”
“Uh-huh,” Liz tried to blink away the fog. She wasn't actually sure what he was asking.
“Stay on the phone the hole time.”
Slipping past him with a nod, only slightly embarrassed that her feet hadn't really been touching the floor, she shuffled down the narrow part of the gap.
It felt like walking into the lions den.
*
“You're so pretty... so beautiful,” Holmes approached her as she tried keep her heart from following her lunch in its attempt to escape its confines. The small cabinet size cells her and Teresa had been kept in were on either side of them.
The man really was a sick fuck.
“I'm also brunette you stupid son of a bitch,” two shotguns went off behind her as she dove out of the ring of salt.
*
The Pabst was making her fingers cold as condensation dripped down the bottle to pool on the table. She wasn't really going to drink it, it was more holding place until Ash could swipe it after she left but it gave her something to concentrate on beside the yelling from the back.
“So Ellen's scary.”
Ash's mullet swayed slightly as he nodded, “That she is.”
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
-
vaifeal
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 186
- Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
- Location: somewhere this side of unstable
- Contact:
Re: Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) 3/26
Yeah, I should have explained that this week is spring break - my last one - so I've been spending all my time fucking around with friends during the day. If I was bigger on boozing - like I did today hence the exceptionally late part- I would have had to take the week off from posting but I like you guys too much to do that. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and take pleasure in the chapter written with your author enjoying her very slight quickly fading buzz... Wow, that was a long ass A/N.
“I wouldn’t want you to want
To be wanted by me
I wouldn’t want you to worry
That you'd be drowned within my sea
I only wanted to be wonderful
And wonderful is true
In truth I only really wanted
To be wanted by you”
- The Rat Within the Grain, Damien Rice
Liz shouldn't have been as angry as she was.
It defied convention that she was but that was who she was, was what she did. If there was some preconceived notion or expectation that plagued her, she would purposefully defy it. It was her life why did she have to play to others.
So yeah, she shouldn't have been pissed even with her mothers nagging phone call echoing all the others that they'd had over the last year about her not using her science degree that she'd worked so hard for ignoring the influence that parental pressure had had in her major, and with Sam's subtle and not so subtle inquires on a range of subjects from her past to her screwing his brother. Pissed was turning out to be the word of the day.
The only one she could stand at the moment was Dean and he too was questionable with his looks that reflected her own thoughts: what the fuck was this thing between them?
It was all expected and predictable, meaning the exact same feckin' thing. She had no right to be pissed because she'd made the situation herself but damn it all if she wasn't going to be anyway.
*
It just had to be dogs.
Giant fucking hellhounds and demons with bargaining skills.
All in all it was shaping up to be a real bang up day. Liz hated dogs and she hated demons, why wouldn't the two be perfect together. Really, on a day when she was so stressed she felt like she was going to combust having to deal with the bullshit of people not thinking their deals through was presenting a problem.
If the hellhounds didn't get them first, she'd do them in.
*
George Darrow was a man of talent that he'd sold his soul for but Liz reluctantly liked him. Goofer Dust and an acceptance of the deal he'd made, he reminded her of Claudia Parker towards the end. Tired with their lot in life but still going strong.
Old blues songs that she knew all the words of because they were just that good played in the background. The song wasn't Robert Johnson – the guitar god that had also doomed himself – but it was still great. It was the type of music that no matter what the circumstances could be listened to with vast appreciation.
Sam and Dean walked to the door of the ratty apartment but she remained behind. Since Jess and Sam's new found gifts, Liz had achieved a certain level of scattered clairvoyance. Simple things such as which scratch off lottery ticket to buy were suddenly precognitive.
Old tired eyes looked up at her in exasperation, “You're work will change lives just as it's changed yours.”
*
She didn't know if it was right for a person to give up their life for someone else. There was survivor guilt and the pain that those close to the victim felt but how could it be wrong to save a life? Evan Hudson had given his life to save his wife and Liz found she couldn't hold it against him.
Neither could Dean despite his flamboyance. The whole hunt was tinted by an undercurrent of what-ifs. The Winchester boys didn't know that she was the one responsible for the healing. They did know that Dean had recovered from a fatal injury and shortly after John had been murdered by a demon.
A crossroads deal would fit. If it wasn't for the whole alien thing.
*
It was decided. Demon flirting was the most disgusting thing ever. Right up there with their tacky attempts at lying.
“Fuckin' hell you stupid piece of shit,” it really felt good lash out, “if you're gonna lie at least do it right.”
“You don't -”
“I know you ain't telling the truth lady,” Liz stepped back the demon advancing on her. “One would think that centuries of experience would teach even a dumb fuck like you how to fudge the truth. There was never a deal between any of you and a Winchester.”
“John Winchester is in hell.”
“That I seriously doubt. See the way I see things, the only thing you lot are good at is messing with peoples heads. Despite what it might seem like the world does operate with in a set of rules. Men like John Winchester spend at least a decade in purgatory before they get judgment,” at this point she really was talking out her ass. Theology 101 didn't cover sentencing.
“Don't delude yourself little girl,” the demon tried to approach but was held back by the devil's trap that Dean had hastily drawn on the top of the gazebo.
“But I do that so well.”
“Now you're really trapped. That's got to hurt,” John's journal in his hand and staring down the demon. Dean looked really good.
*
Her back slammed into the beam of the gazebo, wood dug in increasing the chances that she would get splinters. Not that she gave a shit, not with Dean's calloused fingers skimming the skin under her shirt. Cool air and warm digits, tingling and intoxicating. Liz's hands faltered where they were trying to undo his belt buckle as talented lips locked on the pulse point below her ear.
They were in public, high off of pissing off a demon after having escorted the newly freed host to Lloyds and she didn't give two shits. The button of her jeans opened, her hips lifted up higher. An amused groan vibrated the skin of her newly exposed shoulder.
Ah, fuck.
*
They were going to do that again.
Liz shimmied her pants over her hips careful to remove what debris she could see. Her back was sore, the muscles in her thighs aching pleasantly. They were definitely going to do that again. Dean pulled her jacket lower to caress the back of her neck.
“If you don't stop that the dressing thing with have been for naught.”
“And?”
“I wouldn’t want you to want
To be wanted by me
I wouldn’t want you to worry
That you'd be drowned within my sea
I only wanted to be wonderful
And wonderful is true
In truth I only really wanted
To be wanted by you”
- The Rat Within the Grain, Damien Rice
Liz shouldn't have been as angry as she was.
It defied convention that she was but that was who she was, was what she did. If there was some preconceived notion or expectation that plagued her, she would purposefully defy it. It was her life why did she have to play to others.
So yeah, she shouldn't have been pissed even with her mothers nagging phone call echoing all the others that they'd had over the last year about her not using her science degree that she'd worked so hard for ignoring the influence that parental pressure had had in her major, and with Sam's subtle and not so subtle inquires on a range of subjects from her past to her screwing his brother. Pissed was turning out to be the word of the day.
The only one she could stand at the moment was Dean and he too was questionable with his looks that reflected her own thoughts: what the fuck was this thing between them?
It was all expected and predictable, meaning the exact same feckin' thing. She had no right to be pissed because she'd made the situation herself but damn it all if she wasn't going to be anyway.
*
It just had to be dogs.
Giant fucking hellhounds and demons with bargaining skills.
All in all it was shaping up to be a real bang up day. Liz hated dogs and she hated demons, why wouldn't the two be perfect together. Really, on a day when she was so stressed she felt like she was going to combust having to deal with the bullshit of people not thinking their deals through was presenting a problem.
If the hellhounds didn't get them first, she'd do them in.
*
George Darrow was a man of talent that he'd sold his soul for but Liz reluctantly liked him. Goofer Dust and an acceptance of the deal he'd made, he reminded her of Claudia Parker towards the end. Tired with their lot in life but still going strong.
Old blues songs that she knew all the words of because they were just that good played in the background. The song wasn't Robert Johnson – the guitar god that had also doomed himself – but it was still great. It was the type of music that no matter what the circumstances could be listened to with vast appreciation.
Sam and Dean walked to the door of the ratty apartment but she remained behind. Since Jess and Sam's new found gifts, Liz had achieved a certain level of scattered clairvoyance. Simple things such as which scratch off lottery ticket to buy were suddenly precognitive.
Old tired eyes looked up at her in exasperation, “You're work will change lives just as it's changed yours.”
*
She didn't know if it was right for a person to give up their life for someone else. There was survivor guilt and the pain that those close to the victim felt but how could it be wrong to save a life? Evan Hudson had given his life to save his wife and Liz found she couldn't hold it against him.
Neither could Dean despite his flamboyance. The whole hunt was tinted by an undercurrent of what-ifs. The Winchester boys didn't know that she was the one responsible for the healing. They did know that Dean had recovered from a fatal injury and shortly after John had been murdered by a demon.
A crossroads deal would fit. If it wasn't for the whole alien thing.
*
It was decided. Demon flirting was the most disgusting thing ever. Right up there with their tacky attempts at lying.
“Fuckin' hell you stupid piece of shit,” it really felt good lash out, “if you're gonna lie at least do it right.”
“You don't -”
“I know you ain't telling the truth lady,” Liz stepped back the demon advancing on her. “One would think that centuries of experience would teach even a dumb fuck like you how to fudge the truth. There was never a deal between any of you and a Winchester.”
“John Winchester is in hell.”
“That I seriously doubt. See the way I see things, the only thing you lot are good at is messing with peoples heads. Despite what it might seem like the world does operate with in a set of rules. Men like John Winchester spend at least a decade in purgatory before they get judgment,” at this point she really was talking out her ass. Theology 101 didn't cover sentencing.
“Don't delude yourself little girl,” the demon tried to approach but was held back by the devil's trap that Dean had hastily drawn on the top of the gazebo.
“But I do that so well.”
“Now you're really trapped. That's got to hurt,” John's journal in his hand and staring down the demon. Dean looked really good.
*
Her back slammed into the beam of the gazebo, wood dug in increasing the chances that she would get splinters. Not that she gave a shit, not with Dean's calloused fingers skimming the skin under her shirt. Cool air and warm digits, tingling and intoxicating. Liz's hands faltered where they were trying to undo his belt buckle as talented lips locked on the pulse point below her ear.
They were in public, high off of pissing off a demon after having escorted the newly freed host to Lloyds and she didn't give two shits. The button of her jeans opened, her hips lifted up higher. An amused groan vibrated the skin of her newly exposed shoulder.
Ah, fuck.
*
They were going to do that again.
Liz shimmied her pants over her hips careful to remove what debris she could see. Her back was sore, the muscles in her thighs aching pleasantly. They were definitely going to do that again. Dean pulled her jacket lower to caress the back of her neck.
“If you don't stop that the dressing thing with have been for naught.”
“And?”
Last edited by vaifeal on Sun Mar 30, 2008 6:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
-
vaifeal
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 186
- Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
- Location: somewhere this side of unstable
- Contact:
Re: Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) 3/30
I just watched P.S. I Love You, I think Irish musician Jeffrey Dean Morgan is the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I love his smile.
“Confessingly, this is the first time I've loved you,
And God I mean, God I mean it, I hope that I mean it”
- Colly Strings, The Manchester Orchestra
It took a good minute of listening to some annoying classical ringback song before the phone was picked up. The cool porcelain of the tub ledge chilled her legs as she waited. Sam was asleep and Dean had gone out for a minute so Liz was finally left to take a breath to make the call she'd been itching to make. She was kinda freakin' out at the moment.
“State your trouble.”
The butterflies in her gut were making her nauseous. She hated this, “I'm sleeping with Dean.”
“Way to go Liz.”
“Charlie!” it was not a way to go Liz moment. It was a holy shit what is Liz doing moment. Granted, things were good between them but who said that that couldn't change. All Dean had to do was say he didn't want their relationship, however screwed up it was, and bang: she'd be stuck.
“What? Is this not a good thing?”
“I... It's just...”
“Are you alright?” no she was not alright, she was anything but alright.
She groaned and knocked her head on the tiled wall behind her, “I love him.”
Charlie didn't say anything for a minute, “Well, that's unexpected.”
Dammit, if that was the way her friend reacted what was she supposed to do? Sure, they'd been traveling together for over a year. They'd been doing a skewed version of courting for a while but dammit. One day she can't stand him and the next she's so far over her head she was about to drown.
For once, when it came to emotions, she'd like to feel things halfassed.
“He's cocky and arrogant -”
“- aren't those the same thing -”
“and he's a shoe in for the next Hugh Hefner but I'm crazy about him,” she groaned again. Leave it to her to make a complete mess of things. “I'm so fucked.”
“In more ways than one.”
“Charlie!”
*
The world tilted for a minute as she stepped from the Impala and only Sam's quick reflexes stopped her from falling on her ass. There was something seriously fucked with River Grove. Blinking to clear her vision, she quietly took in the small town. It sort of reminded her of Roswell, minus the overenthusiastic alien decorations.
“You ok?” Liz rolled her eyes. She was getting asked that a lot.
“I blame you for this mojo,” Sam and his freaking psychic abilities. There hadn't been a sixth sense, at least not a strong one, until he'd tapped into his death visions.
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
*
Liz reached under the console of the early nineties Toyota, a mass of wires tangling before her. Luckily, though she couldn't get into the steering column, the car was made before all the fancy electronic gadgets that would of required her to pop the hood. Despite her talent with most technology, car computers and her didn't get along.
Dean was leaning on the door watching her work. He'd drive one way out of town and she'd go the other leaving Sam at the health center until they could return with back up. She was hesitant about leaving him but since he seemed to believed his brother was capable of cold blooded murder, he'd do better watching the supposed scene of the future crime.
“You can hotwire a car?” the engine sputtered to life.
She wiggled her eyebrows at him wondering what the hell was wrong with her. When she was with Dean she felt comfortable, like she was doing the right thing by being with him, when she wasn't all she could think about was how badly she was going to fuck up.
“I'm good under the hood too.”
He smiled at her and pulled her out of the car. She rested her head against his chest, the muscles along her shoulders relaxing, “Be careful.”
“I will if you will.”
“Deal.”
*
Fifteen after leaving the Winchester's, after passing a creepily abandoned school, Liz hit the roadblock. Two trucks pulled across the road with a handful of men standing armed in front of them. It looked more like a local militia than any sort of organized body. The nagging feeling that something was wrong: yeah, that was becoming completely unnecessary.
“Road's closed.”
“I can see that. Mind telling me why?” she shifted the car into reverse. Pulling a u-turn would bring her too close to the Billy the Kid wannabes.
“Quarantine,” Liz pulled her gun from her waistband. “Wanna get out of the car Miss?”
“No, not really.”
“It wasn't a suggestion.”
She aimed the gun at his head and fired, “I didn't think it was.”
*
“They've got the roads blocked off,” she said as she pushed into the small lab in the health center. The doctor was leaning over a microscope, her face perplexed.
“So we wait for Dean.”
“Sounds about right,” Liz nodded toward the doctor. “What's with that?”
“Mr. Tanner had a viral infection. It left traces of sulfur in his blood. Think you can take a look?”
A virus she could do. At Stanford she'd spent hours in the lap running tests and working with the bio-chem department. Hell, it was her major. She'd been finishing up her applications for a PhD program in the field when Jess had been attacked.
“I'll see what I can do.”
*
If there was a cure to the demonic plague that they found themselves surrounded by, Liz wouldn't be able to find it. Not with the limited equipment that she had at her disposal. That's what she told Sam when he asked. Dean had done the right thing shooting Beverly Tanner, even if the others had a hard time swallowing it.
The woman hadn't been a demon but she might as well have been.
Just like Duane Tanner. The man was tied to the chair playing innocent but every word that came out of his mouth rang false. He wasn't what he seemed and even if Sam questioned what Dean had done in his vision. She didn't.
He was definitely an it.
*
“You can't kill him, all right? Not yet,” Sam pleaded with his brother. “We don't know if he's infected or not.”
“Oh, I think we're pretty damn sure. Guy shows up out of nowhere, he'd got a cut on his leg, his whole family's infected.”
“All right, then we should keep him tied up and we should wait and see,” he worried about Dean. Since their dad had died he'd been more cut-and-dry when it came to anything demonic. He wasn't sure what to do. Half the time his brother seemed like he was handling the loss and the other half he was sawing off the vampires head without blinking.
“For what? For him to-” there was yelling in the room and the brothers headed back.
They made it to the door in time to see Liz pulling the trigger despite the obvious protests from the rest of the occupants. He took a startled step back even as Dean moved forward. Tanner's head dropped back, black smoke erupting from his mouth.
She turned toward him as she put her gun away, “There's always a reason.”
*
“Sometimes the things you'll see are meant to happen,” it was a lesson that they'd learned with Ava and Tess.
Though the aliens gifts weren't precognitive visions, they could at times mimic clairvoyance. The women could get into peoples heads. If they knew enough they could predict what was going to happen and they had on several occasions. It had taken a while to accept that not everything was meant to be stopped.
“How did you...”
“Know that Duane was a demon?” he nodded. “I didn't. But I trusted my instincts when they said that he wasn't what he seemed.”
For someone that had spent his whole life hunting the supernatural, Sam was surprisingly innocent in his moral standards. Dean played a large role in that having spent the better part of his life protecting his baby brother but it always gave her pause.
“I thought I was supposed to save him.”
“You'll get the hang of it Sam. As soon as you start listening to something other than your head.”
*
Despite that Sam had had direct contact with infected blood on an open wound, Liz wasn't worried. She was pissed at herself that she hadn't seen Pamela's transformation into Nurse Wilkes but she wasn't concerned that he would contract the virus. She trusted her gut. Her gut said no.
Too bad no one else believed her.
After some yelling about her refusal to shoot Sam even though she'd killed Duane and Dean's resistance despite that he'd shot Mrs Tanner, they'd all come to an understanding. Mark and the Doc were going to leave. Liz and Dean were going to stay. It made everyone but Sam happy.
She was ok with that.
“I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you,” big sad puppy eyes implored them to listen.
“You're not going to die Sam.”
“We have to be realistic -”
“I am. You're going to live a long productive life and end up the towns token crazy old man who scares the kids with his gun collection,” that wasn't what she saw him but she couldn't very well tell him that she thought he and Jess would end up with dozens of grandkids.
“Liz.”
“Sam.”
“Listen to her Sammy. We're not leaving.”
*
“I'm tired. I'm tired of this job, this life,” her head rested on his shoulder. His voice vibrating through her, his fingers playing along the bare skin of her back. “Do you know in all the times I've driven cross-country I've never been to the Grand Canyon.”
“We should go,” she could feel his nod.
She'd been to the Grand Canyon before. With her family when she was thirteen. It had been meant to be a bonding experience but her hormones hadn't gotten the memo. Puberty really did suck.
“All this responsibility, how'd we get stuck with it?”
“I don't know.”
“We should take a break from all this,” Liz wanted to do that. Badly but she couldn't. Not while Jess was depending on her to make it ok for her to go back to being legally alive. Not while some crazed demon was targeting Sam.
Dean knew that it wasn't an option just like she did. That didn't mean that they couldn't think about it, “Drive down to TJ.”
“Go to LA.”
“See the worlds largest ball of string,” she smiled at him as he laughed.
She loved his laughter, no matter how rare it was. It occurred to her that when it came down to it, she would do almost anything for Dean and that scared her. It meant that she was all in. That the thing between them was serious. She was invested.
Liz only hoped that it wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass.
“Confessingly, this is the first time I've loved you,
And God I mean, God I mean it, I hope that I mean it”
- Colly Strings, The Manchester Orchestra
It took a good minute of listening to some annoying classical ringback song before the phone was picked up. The cool porcelain of the tub ledge chilled her legs as she waited. Sam was asleep and Dean had gone out for a minute so Liz was finally left to take a breath to make the call she'd been itching to make. She was kinda freakin' out at the moment.
“State your trouble.”
The butterflies in her gut were making her nauseous. She hated this, “I'm sleeping with Dean.”
“Way to go Liz.”
“Charlie!” it was not a way to go Liz moment. It was a holy shit what is Liz doing moment. Granted, things were good between them but who said that that couldn't change. All Dean had to do was say he didn't want their relationship, however screwed up it was, and bang: she'd be stuck.
“What? Is this not a good thing?”
“I... It's just...”
“Are you alright?” no she was not alright, she was anything but alright.
She groaned and knocked her head on the tiled wall behind her, “I love him.”
Charlie didn't say anything for a minute, “Well, that's unexpected.”
Dammit, if that was the way her friend reacted what was she supposed to do? Sure, they'd been traveling together for over a year. They'd been doing a skewed version of courting for a while but dammit. One day she can't stand him and the next she's so far over her head she was about to drown.
For once, when it came to emotions, she'd like to feel things halfassed.
“He's cocky and arrogant -”
“- aren't those the same thing -”
“and he's a shoe in for the next Hugh Hefner but I'm crazy about him,” she groaned again. Leave it to her to make a complete mess of things. “I'm so fucked.”
“In more ways than one.”
“Charlie!”
*
The world tilted for a minute as she stepped from the Impala and only Sam's quick reflexes stopped her from falling on her ass. There was something seriously fucked with River Grove. Blinking to clear her vision, she quietly took in the small town. It sort of reminded her of Roswell, minus the overenthusiastic alien decorations.
“You ok?” Liz rolled her eyes. She was getting asked that a lot.
“I blame you for this mojo,” Sam and his freaking psychic abilities. There hadn't been a sixth sense, at least not a strong one, until he'd tapped into his death visions.
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
*
Liz reached under the console of the early nineties Toyota, a mass of wires tangling before her. Luckily, though she couldn't get into the steering column, the car was made before all the fancy electronic gadgets that would of required her to pop the hood. Despite her talent with most technology, car computers and her didn't get along.
Dean was leaning on the door watching her work. He'd drive one way out of town and she'd go the other leaving Sam at the health center until they could return with back up. She was hesitant about leaving him but since he seemed to believed his brother was capable of cold blooded murder, he'd do better watching the supposed scene of the future crime.
“You can hotwire a car?” the engine sputtered to life.
She wiggled her eyebrows at him wondering what the hell was wrong with her. When she was with Dean she felt comfortable, like she was doing the right thing by being with him, when she wasn't all she could think about was how badly she was going to fuck up.
“I'm good under the hood too.”
He smiled at her and pulled her out of the car. She rested her head against his chest, the muscles along her shoulders relaxing, “Be careful.”
“I will if you will.”
“Deal.”
*
Fifteen after leaving the Winchester's, after passing a creepily abandoned school, Liz hit the roadblock. Two trucks pulled across the road with a handful of men standing armed in front of them. It looked more like a local militia than any sort of organized body. The nagging feeling that something was wrong: yeah, that was becoming completely unnecessary.
“Road's closed.”
“I can see that. Mind telling me why?” she shifted the car into reverse. Pulling a u-turn would bring her too close to the Billy the Kid wannabes.
“Quarantine,” Liz pulled her gun from her waistband. “Wanna get out of the car Miss?”
“No, not really.”
“It wasn't a suggestion.”
She aimed the gun at his head and fired, “I didn't think it was.”
*
“They've got the roads blocked off,” she said as she pushed into the small lab in the health center. The doctor was leaning over a microscope, her face perplexed.
“So we wait for Dean.”
“Sounds about right,” Liz nodded toward the doctor. “What's with that?”
“Mr. Tanner had a viral infection. It left traces of sulfur in his blood. Think you can take a look?”
A virus she could do. At Stanford she'd spent hours in the lap running tests and working with the bio-chem department. Hell, it was her major. She'd been finishing up her applications for a PhD program in the field when Jess had been attacked.
“I'll see what I can do.”
*
If there was a cure to the demonic plague that they found themselves surrounded by, Liz wouldn't be able to find it. Not with the limited equipment that she had at her disposal. That's what she told Sam when he asked. Dean had done the right thing shooting Beverly Tanner, even if the others had a hard time swallowing it.
The woman hadn't been a demon but she might as well have been.
Just like Duane Tanner. The man was tied to the chair playing innocent but every word that came out of his mouth rang false. He wasn't what he seemed and even if Sam questioned what Dean had done in his vision. She didn't.
He was definitely an it.
*
“You can't kill him, all right? Not yet,” Sam pleaded with his brother. “We don't know if he's infected or not.”
“Oh, I think we're pretty damn sure. Guy shows up out of nowhere, he'd got a cut on his leg, his whole family's infected.”
“All right, then we should keep him tied up and we should wait and see,” he worried about Dean. Since their dad had died he'd been more cut-and-dry when it came to anything demonic. He wasn't sure what to do. Half the time his brother seemed like he was handling the loss and the other half he was sawing off the vampires head without blinking.
“For what? For him to-” there was yelling in the room and the brothers headed back.
They made it to the door in time to see Liz pulling the trigger despite the obvious protests from the rest of the occupants. He took a startled step back even as Dean moved forward. Tanner's head dropped back, black smoke erupting from his mouth.
She turned toward him as she put her gun away, “There's always a reason.”
*
“Sometimes the things you'll see are meant to happen,” it was a lesson that they'd learned with Ava and Tess.
Though the aliens gifts weren't precognitive visions, they could at times mimic clairvoyance. The women could get into peoples heads. If they knew enough they could predict what was going to happen and they had on several occasions. It had taken a while to accept that not everything was meant to be stopped.
“How did you...”
“Know that Duane was a demon?” he nodded. “I didn't. But I trusted my instincts when they said that he wasn't what he seemed.”
For someone that had spent his whole life hunting the supernatural, Sam was surprisingly innocent in his moral standards. Dean played a large role in that having spent the better part of his life protecting his baby brother but it always gave her pause.
“I thought I was supposed to save him.”
“You'll get the hang of it Sam. As soon as you start listening to something other than your head.”
*
Despite that Sam had had direct contact with infected blood on an open wound, Liz wasn't worried. She was pissed at herself that she hadn't seen Pamela's transformation into Nurse Wilkes but she wasn't concerned that he would contract the virus. She trusted her gut. Her gut said no.
Too bad no one else believed her.
After some yelling about her refusal to shoot Sam even though she'd killed Duane and Dean's resistance despite that he'd shot Mrs Tanner, they'd all come to an understanding. Mark and the Doc were going to leave. Liz and Dean were going to stay. It made everyone but Sam happy.
She was ok with that.
“I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you,” big sad puppy eyes implored them to listen.
“You're not going to die Sam.”
“We have to be realistic -”
“I am. You're going to live a long productive life and end up the towns token crazy old man who scares the kids with his gun collection,” that wasn't what she saw him but she couldn't very well tell him that she thought he and Jess would end up with dozens of grandkids.
“Liz.”
“Sam.”
“Listen to her Sammy. We're not leaving.”
*
“I'm tired. I'm tired of this job, this life,” her head rested on his shoulder. His voice vibrating through her, his fingers playing along the bare skin of her back. “Do you know in all the times I've driven cross-country I've never been to the Grand Canyon.”
“We should go,” she could feel his nod.
She'd been to the Grand Canyon before. With her family when she was thirteen. It had been meant to be a bonding experience but her hormones hadn't gotten the memo. Puberty really did suck.
“All this responsibility, how'd we get stuck with it?”
“I don't know.”
“We should take a break from all this,” Liz wanted to do that. Badly but she couldn't. Not while Jess was depending on her to make it ok for her to go back to being legally alive. Not while some crazed demon was targeting Sam.
Dean knew that it wasn't an option just like she did. That didn't mean that they couldn't think about it, “Drive down to TJ.”
“Go to LA.”
“See the worlds largest ball of string,” she smiled at him as he laughed.
She loved his laughter, no matter how rare it was. It occurred to her that when it came down to it, she would do almost anything for Dean and that scared her. It meant that she was all in. That the thing between them was serious. She was invested.
Liz only hoped that it wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass.
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
-
vaifeal
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 186
- Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
- Location: somewhere this side of unstable
- Contact:
Re: Delicate (XO,SN,UC,Mature) 4/02
“Take me as I am
I'm not broken
Pieces of my life are not tokens
I want to let you know that I'm still learning
How to love again and stop hurting”
- Taken Me As I Am, Tonic
Sam was going to die a slow and painful death at her hands.
Not only would it solve his whole 'I'm going to go darkside' problem but it would also make her feel a whole lot better. She wouldn't spend most of her days wondering how she'd become friends with such a whiny ass, Jess wouldn't have to be in hiding, and it would make up for him going AWOL in a hissy fit.
Liz would admit, she couldn't understand what it was like living in the constant fear of turning evil and massacring all her loved one. She did know something about bad things getting worse and fearing that she'd be the reason why her loved ones were massacred. Having amoral FBI agents and sociopath aliens coming after a person tended to do that.
To have Sam run off because Dean couldn't bring himself to seriously believe that his little brother had the potential to go evil just because a couple of kids like him had... she was going to kill him. Break every other bone in his body to match his hand.
That Dean was beside himself with understandable worry and that it was the second time that he'd run off made it all the more pressing that her friend either have a really good reason or run in the other direction when he saw her.
“He's ok,” they were going much more than the legal speed limit. Trees blurred past the window, cellphones sitting on the dash so they were easily reachable. They'd each called everyone they could think of. “He's just being dramatic, he's fine.”
It wasn't the first time she'd said it to him and she was met by the same response: a tightening of already white knuckles on the wheel.
*
She could see the relief on Dean's face as he hung up on Ellen, “He's in Lafayette, Indiana”
“Good,” she let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Last time Sam had run off he'd made friends with a demon that had later tried to kill him. Liz hoped that they made it to him before he got himself into too much trouble.
*
The motel was just like all the others they'd stayed at in the past. Hell, she was sure that she'd seen the exact same tacky decor in at least two others. She took a step toward the room Sam had rented pausing only when she realized that Dean wasn't following.
“Hey, you coming?”
“In a minute,” she nodded before leaning up to kiss him.
*
“You fucking idiot,” the door to the motel room slammed open startling Sam. He reached for the gun he usually kept on him but stopped as Liz shoved her way in.
“Liz-” a tiny fist came out of nowhere, pain erupting in his face.
“You don't wanna hear that you're NOT gonna turn evil so you run away! How old are you?”
He knew better than to try and interrupt her but he tried anyway, “I needed to find answers. Only one of the kids like me hasn't been a murderer. I need to know more.”
“So you run away!” she was gearing up to hit him again prompting him to take a step back. “And how many more are there that we haven't come across. You said it yourself, there is not pattern for us to track. How many more are out there that have done nothing wrong?”
“Not yet.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you Sam?”
“Forget it.”
*
“Oh, grow up!” Liz really wanted to hit him again. “You can't just run off when you don't like things. This is your life. Deal with it.”
“You wouldn't understand.”
“Bullshit,” the girl that she'd momentarily forgotten about glanced at the door awkwardly. “Do you think I'm evil Sam?”
“No, of course not,” it was a small comfort that the answer was so quick though she wondered how badly he'd react to her next words.
“Do you think I'm capable of turning evil.”
“No,” his faith in his friends was one of the reasons that she'd gotten close to him.
“My past is much darker than yours and my morals a lot more questionable,” he opened his mouth to argue but she wouldn't let him. “I've killed Sam.”
“I-”
“I'm not talking about Andy's brother or the other things we've hunted, I'm talking human,” if the Special Unit counted in that definition. “I've looked into a persons eyes and killed them with no regret. If I can do that, something you'd never do, how come I'm not evil?”
Sam didn't have the potential for evil. He was obsessive about something and that could be kind of scary but he was a good person to his core. Liz didn't think that anything could make him kill a human let alone someone completely innocent like the psychics they'd come across had. That was why Dean, though freaked, wasn't really worried.
Before he could respond to the new revelation gun shots filled the room.
*
They watched Ava drive away.
The girl hadn't wanted to leave instead she'd thought she could help. That wasn't an option but Liz kind of liked the girl. She was quirky. A perfectly level headed sane psychic. When they got Dean back she'd have to rub Sam's nose in it.
That was three of yellow eye's children that weren't homicidal.
5637 Monroe turned out to be an abandoned building on a street that had seen better times. They did a quick search of the premises before meeting back in the front. It was Gordon, the overzealous hunter who'd they'd left tied to a chair the last time they'd come across him.
The guy had seemed normal enough at first but they should have known better. Normal didn't describe hunters especially the ones they knew.
“I want you to say out here.”
Sam emphatically shook his head, “No.”
“All signs are pointing to you being the target. I'm not putting you on the front line,” somehow she didn't think he agreed.
*
When the words she'd blurted out to Charlie over the phone finally hit her, she'd wanted to take them back. Even if the sentiment was true the word was one that Liz had hated for a long time. Love, I love you, I love him. The word always rang false, felt insincere. How could an emotion that had the potential to be the strongest of human sentiment be summarized in one four letter word that people said too often without ever thinking about what it really meant?
It couldn't, not really.
And she certainly had no right saying it about Dean behind his back. She'd known from the beginning that she had to be on guard around him, more than just to protect the secrets that if he asked now she'd tell him in a heartbeat. He was dangerous because he was him. Scruffy, flirtatious, sarcastic, impulsive, hot-tempered, loyal, honest (when it counted), trustworthy, protective, funny, intense, guarded, wounded, caring, stubborn.
Every little personality trait came together in a way that stopped people in their tracks.
He didn't get all those women because he was gorgeous and had a smirk that was felt all the way down to the toes, though that did help, he got them because he gave them a small glimpse of who he really was. No one could see it and not want more.
She'd seen him, he'd let her see him, and she'd fallen head first before she knew what was happening. Charlie had been right when she'd said that Liz was asking for trouble by being around Dean. She'd gotten burnt and she didn't care. It could happen again and again and she'd go back.
So yeah, she was crazy about him. In a head-over-heels, never-felt-this-before, doesn't-make-sense-but-makes-perfect-sense, this-is-gonna-hut-like-hell kinda way. They were going to figure it out and no one, not even Gordon fucking Walker, was going to get in the way.
*
“You just can't see it yet. Dean, it's his destiny,” Gordon gagged Dean so that he couldn't tip off his brother when Sam came to rescue him. He'd expected more from the eldest Winchester, had when they'd been taking care of the vampires as well.
“There's no such thing as destiny,” the statement was coupled with the sound of a gun cocking. He looked up at the front door to see the small girl that had been traveling with the boys the last time. “Remember me?”
She hadn't spoken much outside of the occasional insult in his direction and both Winchesters had been protective of her. He blamed her for them not going through with the hunt, “Yeah. I remember you.”
“Step away from him.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Take a step back or I'll blow your head off.”
“You won't.”
She tilted her head appearing more innocent than he knew she was, “You keep thinkin' that if it makes you feel better.”
*
Liz knew he was wondering where Sam was and she knew that that was the only reason he hadn't made a move. Stupid bastard didn't believe she'd pull the trigger. If she was Sam he'd be right. Despite her friends plan to set the man up, she would rather shoot him and get it over with.
Cautiously she took a step toward Dean but never made it to the chair.
The backroom exploded and her aim wavered. Sam. She'd left him at the Impala hoping that he'd listen. Ava's vision had been of him getting blown up, hence the whole her not wanting him to enter the place of his maybe death. Before she could do more than gasp a sharp blow knocked her down, her gun clattering away from her.
She tried to get up but a swift kick had her on the ground again. Swinging her foot she managed to knock his feet from under him. Quickly she made her way to Dean. Gordon was bigger and stronger than she was. It wasn't a fight she could win alone.
Rough hands threw her across the room, Liz barely blinked her sight clear before he was above her. He swung at her but his fist froze in mid air, “Bad idea.”
She hadn't wanted to use her abilities, not around him. Doing so opened a whole new can of worms.
The second explosion toppled her and let him let him get in another punch in.
*
Quick fingers worked at the ropes keeping him tied to the chair, the sounds of a scuffle around them. Sam was alive and Liz was alright despite the last hit. Dean had been afraid that the punch to the temple Gordon delivered had caused serious damage. His relief when she'd moved had been tangible.
The way she yelled it was easy to forget that she was so small.
In the last ten minutes he'd come close to losing the two most important people left in his life. All because of some sick fuck that didn't know when to stop. Coming after them was the last thing Gordon would ever do.
*
Ava's fiancée was dead , she was missing, and Sam was staring at her abandoned engagement ring like it was the one he'd been about to give Jess, the one that she hoped he'd still give her.
Liz wrapped her arms around her hurting friend, “We'll get It. I promise.”
*
“So Amsterdam huh?” Dean pulled her closer, his lips working there way down her neck as he hummed his agreement. “Does this mean that we get to play dominatrix and victim?”
His laugher vibrated her skin but he kept unbuttoning the front of her shirt. Her skin was already flushed, warmth pooling in her belly. Calloused fingers pushed off the shirt before pushing down the straps of her tank, “You're safe word still going to be funky town?”
I'm not broken
Pieces of my life are not tokens
I want to let you know that I'm still learning
How to love again and stop hurting”
- Taken Me As I Am, Tonic
Sam was going to die a slow and painful death at her hands.
Not only would it solve his whole 'I'm going to go darkside' problem but it would also make her feel a whole lot better. She wouldn't spend most of her days wondering how she'd become friends with such a whiny ass, Jess wouldn't have to be in hiding, and it would make up for him going AWOL in a hissy fit.
Liz would admit, she couldn't understand what it was like living in the constant fear of turning evil and massacring all her loved one. She did know something about bad things getting worse and fearing that she'd be the reason why her loved ones were massacred. Having amoral FBI agents and sociopath aliens coming after a person tended to do that.
To have Sam run off because Dean couldn't bring himself to seriously believe that his little brother had the potential to go evil just because a couple of kids like him had... she was going to kill him. Break every other bone in his body to match his hand.
That Dean was beside himself with understandable worry and that it was the second time that he'd run off made it all the more pressing that her friend either have a really good reason or run in the other direction when he saw her.
“He's ok,” they were going much more than the legal speed limit. Trees blurred past the window, cellphones sitting on the dash so they were easily reachable. They'd each called everyone they could think of. “He's just being dramatic, he's fine.”
It wasn't the first time she'd said it to him and she was met by the same response: a tightening of already white knuckles on the wheel.
*
She could see the relief on Dean's face as he hung up on Ellen, “He's in Lafayette, Indiana”
“Good,” she let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Last time Sam had run off he'd made friends with a demon that had later tried to kill him. Liz hoped that they made it to him before he got himself into too much trouble.
*
The motel was just like all the others they'd stayed at in the past. Hell, she was sure that she'd seen the exact same tacky decor in at least two others. She took a step toward the room Sam had rented pausing only when she realized that Dean wasn't following.
“Hey, you coming?”
“In a minute,” she nodded before leaning up to kiss him.
*
“You fucking idiot,” the door to the motel room slammed open startling Sam. He reached for the gun he usually kept on him but stopped as Liz shoved her way in.
“Liz-” a tiny fist came out of nowhere, pain erupting in his face.
“You don't wanna hear that you're NOT gonna turn evil so you run away! How old are you?”
He knew better than to try and interrupt her but he tried anyway, “I needed to find answers. Only one of the kids like me hasn't been a murderer. I need to know more.”
“So you run away!” she was gearing up to hit him again prompting him to take a step back. “And how many more are there that we haven't come across. You said it yourself, there is not pattern for us to track. How many more are out there that have done nothing wrong?”
“Not yet.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you Sam?”
“Forget it.”
*
“Oh, grow up!” Liz really wanted to hit him again. “You can't just run off when you don't like things. This is your life. Deal with it.”
“You wouldn't understand.”
“Bullshit,” the girl that she'd momentarily forgotten about glanced at the door awkwardly. “Do you think I'm evil Sam?”
“No, of course not,” it was a small comfort that the answer was so quick though she wondered how badly he'd react to her next words.
“Do you think I'm capable of turning evil.”
“No,” his faith in his friends was one of the reasons that she'd gotten close to him.
“My past is much darker than yours and my morals a lot more questionable,” he opened his mouth to argue but she wouldn't let him. “I've killed Sam.”
“I-”
“I'm not talking about Andy's brother or the other things we've hunted, I'm talking human,” if the Special Unit counted in that definition. “I've looked into a persons eyes and killed them with no regret. If I can do that, something you'd never do, how come I'm not evil?”
Sam didn't have the potential for evil. He was obsessive about something and that could be kind of scary but he was a good person to his core. Liz didn't think that anything could make him kill a human let alone someone completely innocent like the psychics they'd come across had. That was why Dean, though freaked, wasn't really worried.
Before he could respond to the new revelation gun shots filled the room.
*
They watched Ava drive away.
The girl hadn't wanted to leave instead she'd thought she could help. That wasn't an option but Liz kind of liked the girl. She was quirky. A perfectly level headed sane psychic. When they got Dean back she'd have to rub Sam's nose in it.
That was three of yellow eye's children that weren't homicidal.
5637 Monroe turned out to be an abandoned building on a street that had seen better times. They did a quick search of the premises before meeting back in the front. It was Gordon, the overzealous hunter who'd they'd left tied to a chair the last time they'd come across him.
The guy had seemed normal enough at first but they should have known better. Normal didn't describe hunters especially the ones they knew.
“I want you to say out here.”
Sam emphatically shook his head, “No.”
“All signs are pointing to you being the target. I'm not putting you on the front line,” somehow she didn't think he agreed.
*
When the words she'd blurted out to Charlie over the phone finally hit her, she'd wanted to take them back. Even if the sentiment was true the word was one that Liz had hated for a long time. Love, I love you, I love him. The word always rang false, felt insincere. How could an emotion that had the potential to be the strongest of human sentiment be summarized in one four letter word that people said too often without ever thinking about what it really meant?
It couldn't, not really.
And she certainly had no right saying it about Dean behind his back. She'd known from the beginning that she had to be on guard around him, more than just to protect the secrets that if he asked now she'd tell him in a heartbeat. He was dangerous because he was him. Scruffy, flirtatious, sarcastic, impulsive, hot-tempered, loyal, honest (when it counted), trustworthy, protective, funny, intense, guarded, wounded, caring, stubborn.
Every little personality trait came together in a way that stopped people in their tracks.
He didn't get all those women because he was gorgeous and had a smirk that was felt all the way down to the toes, though that did help, he got them because he gave them a small glimpse of who he really was. No one could see it and not want more.
She'd seen him, he'd let her see him, and she'd fallen head first before she knew what was happening. Charlie had been right when she'd said that Liz was asking for trouble by being around Dean. She'd gotten burnt and she didn't care. It could happen again and again and she'd go back.
So yeah, she was crazy about him. In a head-over-heels, never-felt-this-before, doesn't-make-sense-but-makes-perfect-sense, this-is-gonna-hut-like-hell kinda way. They were going to figure it out and no one, not even Gordon fucking Walker, was going to get in the way.
*
“You just can't see it yet. Dean, it's his destiny,” Gordon gagged Dean so that he couldn't tip off his brother when Sam came to rescue him. He'd expected more from the eldest Winchester, had when they'd been taking care of the vampires as well.
“There's no such thing as destiny,” the statement was coupled with the sound of a gun cocking. He looked up at the front door to see the small girl that had been traveling with the boys the last time. “Remember me?”
She hadn't spoken much outside of the occasional insult in his direction and both Winchesters had been protective of her. He blamed her for them not going through with the hunt, “Yeah. I remember you.”
“Step away from him.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Take a step back or I'll blow your head off.”
“You won't.”
She tilted her head appearing more innocent than he knew she was, “You keep thinkin' that if it makes you feel better.”
*
Liz knew he was wondering where Sam was and she knew that that was the only reason he hadn't made a move. Stupid bastard didn't believe she'd pull the trigger. If she was Sam he'd be right. Despite her friends plan to set the man up, she would rather shoot him and get it over with.
Cautiously she took a step toward Dean but never made it to the chair.
The backroom exploded and her aim wavered. Sam. She'd left him at the Impala hoping that he'd listen. Ava's vision had been of him getting blown up, hence the whole her not wanting him to enter the place of his maybe death. Before she could do more than gasp a sharp blow knocked her down, her gun clattering away from her.
She tried to get up but a swift kick had her on the ground again. Swinging her foot she managed to knock his feet from under him. Quickly she made her way to Dean. Gordon was bigger and stronger than she was. It wasn't a fight she could win alone.
Rough hands threw her across the room, Liz barely blinked her sight clear before he was above her. He swung at her but his fist froze in mid air, “Bad idea.”
She hadn't wanted to use her abilities, not around him. Doing so opened a whole new can of worms.
The second explosion toppled her and let him let him get in another punch in.
*
Quick fingers worked at the ropes keeping him tied to the chair, the sounds of a scuffle around them. Sam was alive and Liz was alright despite the last hit. Dean had been afraid that the punch to the temple Gordon delivered had caused serious damage. His relief when she'd moved had been tangible.
The way she yelled it was easy to forget that she was so small.
In the last ten minutes he'd come close to losing the two most important people left in his life. All because of some sick fuck that didn't know when to stop. Coming after them was the last thing Gordon would ever do.
*
Ava's fiancée was dead , she was missing, and Sam was staring at her abandoned engagement ring like it was the one he'd been about to give Jess, the one that she hoped he'd still give her.
Liz wrapped her arms around her hurting friend, “We'll get It. I promise.”
*
“So Amsterdam huh?” Dean pulled her closer, his lips working there way down her neck as he hummed his agreement. “Does this mean that we get to play dominatrix and victim?”
His laugher vibrated her skin but he kept unbuttoning the front of her shirt. Her skin was already flushed, warmth pooling in her belly. Calloused fingers pushed off the shirt before pushing down the straps of her tank, “You're safe word still going to be funky town?”
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child
"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence
"The mind has no sex." - Descartes
"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child