Remote Depths (SPN XO,UC,Adult) AN 12-23-09 [WIP]
Posted: Wed Jul 09, 2008 5:12 pm
Title: Remote Depths
Author: SnowyOwl-17
Category: Roswell/Supernatural Crossover
Pairing: Liz/Dean, Sam/ Ruby (and any others are up in the air at the moment)
Rating: I am rating this story Adult for violence, language, imagery and possible sexuality.
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or Supernatural. Roswell belongs to the creators, writers etc., and Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and others.
Summary: This a dark fic and a challenge that I took up from Jezebel Jinx...Quick note, some of the details of the plot, that Jezabel Jinx put together, I have changed to go along with the minor additions or subtractions that I have going on in the story. (i.e., Sam and Liz meet a bit differently in the story than they do according to Jezebel’s challenge) But, overall, the challenge is a really good summary of the story. So, check it out!

Prologue:
She looked around furiously.
All around her were what looked like spider webs. But these were like no spider webs she had ever seen before. They looked like the metal chains that she had seen construction workers use on cranes and on tow trucks. What was worse was that she couldn’t tell if build up on them was rust…or dried blood.
Her stomach gave a nauseating twist at that very thought.
She felt the bile rise in her throat faster when she saw a guy, not much older than herself, in front of her. His face was bloody, scraped and cut up. There was a deep cut running from his right temple all the way down past his ear, and then half way down his neck. From where she was, and the amount of blood on him, she couldn’t tell if the cut had hit some kind of vein or artery, or if he had been here for a while.
Wherever here was.
She brought her hand up to her mouth as she took in his blood soaked t-shirt that was barely hanging on him. His chest was littered with similar gashes, as the one on his face. She knew in her heart that she wouldn’t have to look far to find countless more injuries along the rest of his body. She had hoped with every fiber of her being that she was wrong, but a quick glance down to his legs had proven what she had already known…his entire body was beaten and battered. She wasn’t even sure how he was hanging on to life.
Tears flooded her eyes as she took in the…meat hooks…was the only thing she could think to call them. They were attached to the chain link spider webs, as they spread his body wide. The hooks seemed to be everywhere. There was one in his right shoulder, one in his left forearm, one in his right elbow, one in his left thigh, and one in his right knee. She couldn’t contain the bile any longer as she took in the sight of two more; one running through his right calf and the last one was through his left ankle.
Seven.
There were seven meat hooks all together. Seven meat hooks attached to blood rusted chains. Blood rusted chains that were pulling tautly on his wounded flesh at each hook incision.
The horrific sight was too much for her stomach to take any longer. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and leaned over to empty the entire contents of her stomach.
Liz shot up into a sitting position on her bed only to barely hold in the contents of her stomach until she leaned over the side of her bed. She was just happy that the motel trash bucket was there, or she would have had a bigger problem than she already did. She spent the next twenty minutes violently heaving as the image of him played through her mind over and over. She breathed in deeply trying to calm her breathing and her stomach. The scene of her dream/vision had been so horrific that whenever she managed to get some kind of grip on her gag reflexes her mind grasped onto his image one more time, which caused her to have another heaving fit.
Eventually she was able to gather herself as calmly as she could, and fell back to the bed and stared up at the ceiling breathing hard. She weakly brought her hand up, and waved it in front of her, as she cleaned herself and anything else that may have been messed. She couldn’t have been happier that she had her own room. The last thing she needed was to have to explain why she would wake up from a dream heaving any meal she had consumed in the last 24 to 48 hours.
She had had some intense visions, and some really dark dreams, in the past, but not once had they been disturbing enough that she had woken up vomiting.
It was so real.
The blood.
The screams.
The presence had felt so evil, as it surrounded her and that poor guy. Somehow she knew that all the screaming she had heard was of others being tortured, and most likely in a similar fashion that he was.
She had no idea how he was not been screaming at the top of his lungs with those hooks pulling at bones, muscles, nerves and tendons. She didn’t have to hear him to know he was in more pain than she could ever comprehend. His face had been distorted in pain, even in his body’s unconscious state.
She wanted so badly to know if he had been merely an extremely vivid dream or a vision.
On one hand she wanted it to be a dream, because she did not want anyone to be in that kind of pain. Yet, on the other hand she wanted it to be a vision. If it was a vision and he really was…where ever the hell that was…she wanted to do everything in her power to take his pain away; to get him out of that horrific place.
She wasn’t sure what was bringing on her strange, fierce need to care for him and to take his pain away, but it was there, and she would be damned if she didn’t figure out what the hell was going on.
tbc.....
Author: SnowyOwl-17
Category: Roswell/Supernatural Crossover
Pairing: Liz/Dean, Sam/ Ruby (and any others are up in the air at the moment)
Rating: I am rating this story Adult for violence, language, imagery and possible sexuality.
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or Supernatural. Roswell belongs to the creators, writers etc., and Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and others.
Summary: This a dark fic and a challenge that I took up from Jezebel Jinx...Quick note, some of the details of the plot, that Jezabel Jinx put together, I have changed to go along with the minor additions or subtractions that I have going on in the story. (i.e., Sam and Liz meet a bit differently in the story than they do according to Jezebel’s challenge) But, overall, the challenge is a really good summary of the story. So, check it out!
by Jezebel Jinx on Tue May 27, 2008 4:22 pm
#119
I was going to do this one but I won't have the time for it so I'm throwing it out there to see if anyone else wants to take a crack at it.
Supernatural/Roswell
Couple: Dean/Liz
Rating: Adult (for subject matter that'll be explained below)
Summary: Post both season 3 finale's. Dean is in hell, Liz is on the road with the gang. Liz becomes connected to Dean, while on the road she's having visions when she's asleep and a couple times when she's awake, about Dean and his treatment in hell. It becomes so bad that a few times she'll wake up and have similar marks on her body that had been inflicted on Dean.
Soon her friends start to notice that Liz isn't her usual self. She's sleeping more and longer than before, she snaps at her friends, and they occasionally notice the marks left on her skin, even though she does her best to hide them. Eventually Maria gets Liz to confide in her about what is happening but Liz makes her promise not to tell the others until she knows more.
Over the next few months Liz and Dean become closer and closer through their bond and Liz manages to somehow share with Dean happier dreams instead of all the time nightmares giving him some hope of getting out of hell. Through their dream/nightmare sharing she learns about demons and Dean learns about aliens. Meanwhile she and Maria work on getting any information about what is happening to her and why she is connected to Dean.
It is around this time that Liz and Maria bump into Sam while having breakfast and talking about the latest batch of nightmares Liz has had. Sam has become darker, he's become ruthless when dealing with demons and will kill them at a moments notice and his only true mission is to get his brother out of hell. Liz recognizes Sam from some of Dean's nightmares and at some point during the breakfast with Maria goes to sit next to Sam and tells him point blank that she has had contact with his brother and she wants to help him get Dean out of hell.
That's about as far as I got with the plot.
Must Have
-It must be dark, Dean is in hell, I want there to be torture and disturbing images.
-Max and Liz did not marry after Graduation. Instead they broke up but remain friends.
-Sam and Liz don't like each other at first. I want their interactions with each other to be difficult, to be uncomfortable, to be angry.
-After the rest of the Roswell gang is brought in on what's happening to Liz, Isabel agrees to dream walk Liz and see if there's anything that she can find about Liz and Dean's connection that could help them.
-The Roswell gang (except Maria) aren't brought into the loop until after Liz meets Sam.
-Maria tends to play mediator with Sam and Liz. At times she takes Liz's side, other times it's Sam's.
Any questions just PM me.

Prologue:
She looked around furiously.
All around her were what looked like spider webs. But these were like no spider webs she had ever seen before. They looked like the metal chains that she had seen construction workers use on cranes and on tow trucks. What was worse was that she couldn’t tell if build up on them was rust…or dried blood.
Her stomach gave a nauseating twist at that very thought.
She felt the bile rise in her throat faster when she saw a guy, not much older than herself, in front of her. His face was bloody, scraped and cut up. There was a deep cut running from his right temple all the way down past his ear, and then half way down his neck. From where she was, and the amount of blood on him, she couldn’t tell if the cut had hit some kind of vein or artery, or if he had been here for a while.
Wherever here was.
She brought her hand up to her mouth as she took in his blood soaked t-shirt that was barely hanging on him. His chest was littered with similar gashes, as the one on his face. She knew in her heart that she wouldn’t have to look far to find countless more injuries along the rest of his body. She had hoped with every fiber of her being that she was wrong, but a quick glance down to his legs had proven what she had already known…his entire body was beaten and battered. She wasn’t even sure how he was hanging on to life.
Tears flooded her eyes as she took in the…meat hooks…was the only thing she could think to call them. They were attached to the chain link spider webs, as they spread his body wide. The hooks seemed to be everywhere. There was one in his right shoulder, one in his left forearm, one in his right elbow, one in his left thigh, and one in his right knee. She couldn’t contain the bile any longer as she took in the sight of two more; one running through his right calf and the last one was through his left ankle.
Seven.
There were seven meat hooks all together. Seven meat hooks attached to blood rusted chains. Blood rusted chains that were pulling tautly on his wounded flesh at each hook incision.
The horrific sight was too much for her stomach to take any longer. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and leaned over to empty the entire contents of her stomach.
Liz shot up into a sitting position on her bed only to barely hold in the contents of her stomach until she leaned over the side of her bed. She was just happy that the motel trash bucket was there, or she would have had a bigger problem than she already did. She spent the next twenty minutes violently heaving as the image of him played through her mind over and over. She breathed in deeply trying to calm her breathing and her stomach. The scene of her dream/vision had been so horrific that whenever she managed to get some kind of grip on her gag reflexes her mind grasped onto his image one more time, which caused her to have another heaving fit.
Eventually she was able to gather herself as calmly as she could, and fell back to the bed and stared up at the ceiling breathing hard. She weakly brought her hand up, and waved it in front of her, as she cleaned herself and anything else that may have been messed. She couldn’t have been happier that she had her own room. The last thing she needed was to have to explain why she would wake up from a dream heaving any meal she had consumed in the last 24 to 48 hours.
She had had some intense visions, and some really dark dreams, in the past, but not once had they been disturbing enough that she had woken up vomiting.
It was so real.
The blood.
The screams.
The presence had felt so evil, as it surrounded her and that poor guy. Somehow she knew that all the screaming she had heard was of others being tortured, and most likely in a similar fashion that he was.
She had no idea how he was not been screaming at the top of his lungs with those hooks pulling at bones, muscles, nerves and tendons. She didn’t have to hear him to know he was in more pain than she could ever comprehend. His face had been distorted in pain, even in his body’s unconscious state.
She wanted so badly to know if he had been merely an extremely vivid dream or a vision.
On one hand she wanted it to be a dream, because she did not want anyone to be in that kind of pain. Yet, on the other hand she wanted it to be a vision. If it was a vision and he really was…where ever the hell that was…she wanted to do everything in her power to take his pain away; to get him out of that horrific place.
She wasn’t sure what was bringing on her strange, fierce need to care for him and to take his pain away, but it was there, and she would be damned if she didn’t figure out what the hell was going on.
tbc.....