The Hart II: Highway
Summary: Off on her own, without the Winchesters, Bobby, Ellen or Jo, Lizzie tries to get back to what she does best… hunting. But time is running out, Dean’s soul is on the line, and now everyone knows Lizzie is psychic like Sam. Can the brothers and Lizzie work through their problems? Or will they lose everything?
Bamby’s Masterlist
The Hart Masterlist
The Hart II: Highway Masterlist
Part Twenty-Two: Groundhog Day
Warnings: Angst. Death. Some more angst.
Bamby
EPOV
I couldn't tell you how many times Dean had died now. I could tell you how some of his deaths played out. Once he fell in the shower. He ate a bad taco. Electrocuted himself. There were so many ways. So many different ways that he'd died now, I was sure we were nearing one hundred.
Hell, Sam had killed him once. But that was an accident. I didn't hold it against him, and Dean couldn't remember.
Walking into the diner, I looked to the front counter.
"Drive safely now, Mr Pickett," the cashier told Mr Pickett as he handed over some change.
Mr Pickett nodded grumpily. "Yeah, yeah."
As he headed for the exit, I bumped into him on purpose, picking his pocket discreetly as I kept walking towards our booth.
"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal. You know the rules," Doris told Cal.
He pulled some change out of his pocket and handed it over gingerly. "Some coffee."
"Hey." Dean gestured to the menu, smiling. "Tuesday. Pig in a poke."
With a tired expression, I pulled out Mr Pickett's keys and put them on the table.
Dean looked at them and then to me. "What are those?"
"The old man's," I mumbled.
"Trust us, you don't want him behind the wheel," Sam added.
Doris walked over to the table. "You ready?"
Dean smiled. "Uh, yes, we are. I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee."
"Hey, Doris?" Sam looked up at her. "What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range. You're a terrible shot."
She froze, looking down at him confused. "How'd you know that?"
We both knew. She'd killed Dean once.
Sam gave an obviously fake smile. "Lucky guess."
Doris walked away, a little freaked.
Once she was gone, Dean got to it. "Okay, so you two think you're caught in some kind of what, again?"
"Time loop," Sam and I said at the same time, both of us tired and over all of this.
"Like Groundhog Day."
Sam shook his head. "Doesn't matter. There's no way to stop it."
Dean grinned at his brother. "Jeez, aren't you grumpy."
"Yeah, he is," I snapped. "You wanna know why? Because this is the hundredth Tuesday in a row we've been through, and it never stops. Ever. So yeah, he's a little grumpy. I'm a little grumpy." I sighed, seeing Doris in the corner of my eye. "Hot sauce."
Dean frowned. "What?"
Doris stopped at our table, placing the coffee on the table. "Coffee, black, and some hot sauce for the- whoops! Crap!"
But before the sauce smashed, Sam caught it effortlessly. He put it on the table, sliding it to Dean with agitation before he shoved his hand back in his pocket.
Doris was shocked. "Thanks," she mumbled, walking away.
"Nice reflexes." Dean was impressed.
Sam's annoyance grew. "I knew it was going to happen, Dean." He gestured to me. "We know everything that's gonna happen."
Dean rolled his eyes. "You don't know everything."
"Yeah." Sam nodded.
"We do," I insisted.
Dean grinned, opening his mouth at the same time Sam did. "Yeah, right. Nice guess," they said together.
Sam gave him a tight, annoyed smile. "It wasn't a guess."
Leaning forward, Dean tried to prove him wrong again, but as he spoke so did Sam. "Right, you're a mind reader. Cut it out, Sam. Sam." There was a slight pause before they both spoke again, "You think you're being funny but you're being really, really childish! Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up he-"
Dean threw up his hands, giving up. "Okay, enough!"
"That's not all. Randy the cashier?" I gestured to the front counter. "He's skimming from the register.
"Judge Myers?" Sam nodded to a man at the bar. "At night he puts on a furry bunny outfit."
Judge Myers overheard him, knocking over his glass out of surprise and embarrassment. But neither Sam or I cared.
"Over there, that's Cal." I pointed to Cal. "He's gonna rob Tony the mechanic on the way home."
Dean's eyes were wide, a little freaked, confused and once again impress but for different reasons. "What's your point?"
"Our point is, Lizzie and I have lived through every possible Tuesday," Sam told him. "We've watched you die every possible way. We've ripped apart the Mystery Spot, burnt it down, tried everything we know to save your life, and we can't. No matter what we do, you die. And then we wake up. And then it's Tuesday again."
SPOV
I sighed. "Dog."
Right on time, the dog on the street barked and whined.
Dean watched me, shaking his head. "There's gotta be some way out of this."
"'Where's my dang keys?'" Lizzie mumbled.
We passed Mr Pickett then as he stood on the footpath, searching his pockets. "Where's my dang keys?"
"Excuse me," I said a moment before the girl bumped into Dean.
"Excuse me," she muttered, continuing on.
"She's kinda cute," Dean chuckled before he put out a hand to stop me, which had Lizzie stop as well. "Hey. All the times we've walked down this street, I ever do this?" He suddenly turned and headed over to the girl. "Excuse me, miss!"
I stared after him, surprised. "No."
Lizzie and I watched as the girl handed Dean one of her flyers before he turned and headed back towards us.
"A hundred Tuesdays and neither of you ever bothered to check what she was holding in her hands?" He asked, earning two shrugs. He sighed, showing us the flyer. It was a missing persons poster for the guy in our case. "That's the guy who went missing?"
"Yeah." I nodded.
Dean gestured to the woman who gave him the flyer and was now walking away again. "That's his daughter back there."
This was the closest thing to a lead we had. We were here for the case and I was still sure there was something going on with the Mystery Spot, which is where the missing man was supposedly meant to have been before he went missing.
Maybe, just maybe, this was our way out of the loop.
I snatched the flyer from him and rushed after the girl. "Ma'am? Ah, Miss?"
But before I could reach her, I heard the dog bark and growl before Dean yelled out.
...
Heat of the moment
My eyes opened. I sat up quickly. I felt a knew determination bubbling inside me. This time, this time was going to be different. This time, we had a lead.
EPOV
Sam and I looked on his laptop, researching as Dean sat across from us, eating away.
"So the police report says Dexter Hasselback is a professor, but that's not all he is," Sam started.
"What is he?" Dean asked.
"Lizzie and I talked to his daughter," Sam told him. "Guy's quite the journalist. Columns in magazines, a blog. He writes about tourist attractions. Mystery spots, UFO crash sites. He gets his kicks debunking them. I mean, he's already put four of these places out of business. Here."
We turned the laptop the show Hassleback's biography, 'The Hasselback Report'.
"Dexter Hasselback, truth warrior?" Dean scoffed. "More like a pompous schmuck, you ask me."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, tell me about it. I mean, I've read everything the guy's ever written, and he must have weighed a ton, he was so full of himself."
Dean looked away from the computer and to his brother. "When'd you have time to do all this research?"
Oh, just the last few dozen times you've died while we've been following this lead Sam's determined to stick to. I thought to myself.
It wasn't that I didn't agree with Sam, it was just… we'd been looking up this Hasselback guy for a few Tuesdays now and we hadn't really found much. Except that he's a douche bag who thinks the sun shines out of his ass. I was beginning to think this 'lead' was nothing.
But I wasn't going to tell Sam that. Not yet. Not when it gave him hope still.
"Come on." Sam closed his laptop and slid out of the booth. Dean and I were right behind him.
Dean laughed lightly, catching our attention.
"What?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I just, it's just funny, you know, I mean, this guy spends his whole life crapping on Mystery Spots and then he vanishes into one. It's kinda poetic, you know, just desserts."
"You're right, that is just desserts." Sam stood there thinking about it for a moment.
I went to keep walking only to freeze before I could make a move. "Sam." I lifted a hand and gestured to the bar where an almost empty plate sat next to a jug of strawberry syrup.
Dean noticed that we hadn't followed him and came back to see what was up. "What's wrong?"
Sam turned to see the man who'd been eating the pancake walk past the diner window. "Guy has maple syrup for the last hundred Tuesdays, all of a sudden he's having strawberry?"
"It's a free country." Dean shrugged. "Man can't choose his own syrup, huh? What have we become?"
Sam shook his head. "Not in this diner. Not today. Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever. Except Lizzie and me."
SPOV
Heat of the moment
My eyes snapped open before I sat up in bed and looked around.
Telling you what your heart is
"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean grinned from where he sat on his bed tying his shoes.
The heat of the moment
Showed in your eyes
...
Lizzie sat next to Dean this time, the two of us on the edge of the booth, watching the man at the bar as he ate his pancakes with maple syrup. If he'd had strawberry I might have wondered if I was wrong. But he didn't and I wasn't.
"So, you think you're caught in some kind of what, again?" Dean asked.
"Eat your breakfast," Lizzie and I told him at the same time.
A moment after, the man stood and began to leave the diner. I pulled out a paper bag from my pocket and stood to follow him, Lizzie right behind me.
"What's in the bag?" Dean called as he hurried to follow us.
EPOV
Watching the man from the diner bar, I waited until he was around the building, heading for the small parking lot. That's when I lifted my hand and pushed him against the fence with my mind.
"Hey!" he called out, shocked.
But he didn't have time to do or say anything else before Sam pressed the tip on his stake to the man's throat.
"I know who you are." Sam glared. "Or should I say, what?"
"Oh my god, please don't kill me," the man begged.
Dean looked between Sam and I, clearly concerned and confused and downright worried that we were insane. "Uh, Sam? Liz?"
Sam and I ignored him as Sam pressed the stake against the man's throat a little harder. "It took us a hell of a long time but I got it."
"What?" the man asked, confused and scared. But it was an act. I was sure of it.
I pressed him against the fence harder, still using my mind. "It's your MO that gave you away. Going after douche bags and jerks, giving them their just desserts. Your kind loves that, don't they?"
"Yeah, sure, okay." The man glanced at the stake nervously. "Just put the stake down!"
"Guys, maybe you should-"
I cut Dean off, "No! There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops. There's only one thing I know that can do that. A Trickster."
"My name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name is Amelia, I got two kids, for crying out loud I sell ad space-"
But Sam wasn't having it as he interrupted the man. "Don't lie! We know what you are! We've killed one of your kind before!"
Suddenly the man's face began to change as it morphed into someone else. Both Sam and Dean were taken back as if they recognised him.
The man grinned. "Actually, bucko, you didn't."
Sam was seething now. "Why are you doing this?"
My grip slackened as I realised this wasn't just any Trickster, this was the one they'd dealt with all those months ago. Back when I'd been too sick to help them hunt. I'd never met the Trickster, but I was sure- by the look on his and the brothers' faces- that he was the very same one.
The Trickster gave a short and unamused laugh. "You're joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?"
Dean glared at the Trickster, his own anger building. "And Hasselback, what about him?"
"That putz?" The Trickster shrugged. "He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one." he laughed. "Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town." He paused before looking at me, "Though you? You were a surprise. I've heard about the Winchester's playmate. Also heard you ditched them months ago."
Before I could respond, Sam spoke up, "So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?"
"One, yes." The Trickster nodded. "It is fun. And two? This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on the two of you, Sam and Elizabeth. Watching Dean die, every day. Forever."
Sam was vibrating with rage. "You son of a bitch."
"How long will it take you two to realise? You can't save him. No matter what."
"Yeah?" I raised my hand again, pushing him against the fence once more. "Why don't we just kill you and end this all now? Huh?"
"Oh-oh, hey, whoa!" The Trickster looked to the three of us desperately. "Okay. Look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you'll wake up and it'll be Wednesday. I swear."
"You're lying," Sam sneered.
The Trickster shrugged. "If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner."
Looking to his brother for a moment, Sam thought about it before he turned to the Trickster again. "No. Easier to just kill you."
"Sorry, kiddo. Can't have that." The Trickster lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.
SPOV
I woke up with a start as the song Back in Time by Huey Lewis and the News started playing.
Promise me I'll be back in time
Gotta get back in time
"What, you gonna sleep all day?" Dean asked from where he was standin by the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth.
I sat up and looked to the radio. "No Asia."
Dean looked genuinely disappointed. "Yeah, I know. This station sucks."
On a roll of the dice
I read the date on the radio and gasped. "It's Wednesday!"
"Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off, will you?"
But instead of doing as he asked, I smiled widely. "What, are you kidding me? This isn't the most beautiful song you've ever heard?"
Suddenly the door to our room burst open. Lizzie rushed in, smiling as well. She looked to Dean and rushed over, throwing her arms around his neck in a tight hug.
Dean paused, his arms snaking around her to return the hug. "How many Tuesdays did you two have?" he asked us.
I threw my blankets off me and grabbed a shirt. "I don't know. I lost count."
Lizzie paused and pulled back, looking up at Dean. "Hey, wait. You remember?"
He shrugged. "I remember you two were pretty whacked out of it yesterday and then I remember running into the Trickster. But that's about it."
I didn't care though, I was just happy the never-ending Tuesday had finally ended. "All right. Pack your stuff, let's get the hell out of town. Now," I told them, moving to get my stuff ready to leave.
Dean looked disappointed. "No breakfast?"
"No breakfast," Lizzie and I answered at the same time.
EPOV
"You have no idea how happy I am." I smiled, watching Sam as he finished cleaning up the room. Dean was outside, packing the car.
Sam turned to me, an amused eyebrow raised. "Oh, I have some idea."
During the never-ending Tuesdays, it had been hard to hide how I felt. Every time Dean died it was like I died as well. He meant a lot to me, more than I'd admit to myself or anyone. But Sam had seen it. The small touches between Dean and I here and there, how I reacted to certain things as time went by.
At first it had been uncomfortable, the idea of Sam realising that Dean and I were sleeping together. But after a while I hadn't cared. My worry for Dean and the time loop had been more important.
"We're not an item, Sam," I assured him. "Dean and I are just sleeping together. It's just like before."
Even if Dean wasn't going to hell, I probably wouldn't change anything. Relationships weren't my thing. I didn't like to commit. It wasn't that I couldn't, it was that being with one single person meant you cared about them and trusted them in ways you didn't care about or trust others. It was a huge deal for me, and a lot of pressure for me and my 'partner'.
For now, I was happy to be alone and fool around. Dean knew that, too. We'd talked. He knew the rules were the same as before. He knew what we were.
"Before you were getting pretty close," he noted.
"Before he wasn't dying. Before he hadn't sold his soul. Before there hadn't been all these complications."
Sam shook his head, sighing. "Lizzie, we're gonna fix this. Dean's not going anywhere. You don't have to push him away. You don't have to keep him at arm's length."
I did though. I couldn't risk letting him in and then losing him. I didn't want to lose any more people I cared about. It hurt more and more each time and it sucked.
The sound of a gunshot had both of us looked to the door before we hurried off.
"Dean!" Sam yelled.
"Dean?" I called.
But as we rushed down the stairs and neared the Impala, we came to a stop. Lying there on the ground, unmoving, with a bullet wound in his chest, was Dean... He was dead.
Sam ran to him. "No, no, no, no, no." He got to his knees, grabbing his brother. "Hey, hey, come on, not today, not today, this isn't supposed to happen today, come on-" He squeezed his eyes shut and waited.
But nothing happened.
My heart sunk as I watched Sam. I knew, this time… this time was different.
Sam turned to me, tears in his eyes. "We're supposed to wake up."
SPOV
It had been six months since we lost Dean. Six months of hunting. Hunting everything, but mostly the Trickster.
Lizzie and I walked into the hotel room, moving to the bathroom so we could patch each other up. As I got the first aid kit ready, she played the messages on my phone.
"It's Bobby. Heard about that demon thing you took care of in Death Valley. Nice job. Been about three months since we talked, though. Be nice to hear your voice. Either of you. Give me a call. I'm here."
Beep.
She walked over as I pulled my shirt off, revealing a bleeding wound. I leaned back as she got to work, pouring some hydrogen peroxide on it before reaching into the wound with a pair of medical tweezers. She pulled out the bullet as the next messaged played.
"Bobby again. Look, I'm worried about the two of you."
Beep.
Stitching up my wound, she finished in record time. Once she was done I reached over to clean her cuts, both of us professional as we worked on each other.
Everything we did now was automatic. We ate, slept, and moved on. Everything was perfect, precise. Mistakes got people killed. Being unorganised was as dangerous as a loaded gun.
We were set on finding the Trickster and nothing else.
"Just tell me you're not sitting somewhere obsessing over this damn Trickster. Call me. We can find it together. You hear me? By the way, that vampire nest in Austin, hell of a job."
Beep.
I was packing up the kit while Lizzie cleaned up the blood and got rid of our stained clothes when the last message played.
"It's Bobby. I found him."
Lizzie and I turned to each other, determination set in our eyes.
EPOV
We waked into the Mystery Spot, finding Bobby kneeling by some candles and bowls in the middle of the room. He looked exactly like he had all those months ago. But I was numb to it. After losing Dean so many times, only to have lost in the end. I'd shut everyone and everything out.
Sam and I weren't even friends anymore. Not really. We were co-workers. Two hunters set on finding the same big-bad and bring it down.
Like I said, losing people sucked and I couldn't do it anymore. Dean was the last straw. Standing in the parking lot, watching him die, that was when I decided to cut all ties and forget about everything but hunting.
Bobby stood and turned, moving towards us with a light smile on his face. "It's good to see you, boy." He gave Sam a quick but tight hug before turning to me. "Lizzie." He let out a sigh of relief, folding me into a hug as well.
I pulled away after a moment or two. "What are we doing here, Bobby? I asked in a flat tone.
Bobby shrugged. "Well, it's the last place we're sure the Trickster worked his magic."
"So?" Sam wanted him to get to the point as much as I did.
"So, you want this thing? I found a summoning ritual to bring the Trickster here," Bobby answered.
Sam got straight to it. "What do we need?"
"Blood."
I was unfazed by Bobby's response. "How much blood?"
"Ritual says near a gallon. And it's gotta be fresh, too."
"Meaning we have to bleed a person dry," Sam noted.
"And it's gotta be tonight. Or not for another fifty years."
"Then let's go get some." I turned to leave, Sam doing the same. Honestly the idea of killing someone didn't even faze me anymore. I was that numb.
Bobby sighed, shaking his head. "You two break my heart."
Sam paused and turned to him. "What?"
"I'm not gonna let you murder an innocent man."
I turned to Bobby, glaring accusingly. "Then why'd you bring us here?"
"Why? Because it was the only way you'd see me! Because I'm trying to knock some sense into you! Because I thought you'd back down from killing a man!"
"Well, you thought wrong." Sam's tone was as flat as mine. "Leave the stuff, we'll do it on our own."
Bobby shook his head. "I told you, I'm not gonna let you kill a man."
"It's none of your damn business what we do!" Sam snapped at him, showing real emotion for the first time in ages. Months even.
Bobby focused on him. "You want your brother back so bad?" He leaned down and pulled a knife out of his bag, holding it up to Sam. "Fine."
Sam eyed the knife. "What are you talking about?"
"Better me than a civilian," Bobby told him, still holding the knife out.
I shook my head. "You're crazy, Bobby. We're not killing you."
"Oh, now I'm the crazy one? Look, I'm old, I'm coming near the end of my trail. But you can keep fighting. Saving folk. But you need your brother," Bobby told Sam. "You need Dean. Let me get him back to you."
"Bobby-"
He cut Sam off, "You two and Dean, you three are the closest thing I have to family. I wanna do this."
Slowly, Sam took the knife. "Okay."
"Good." Bobby turned around and dropped to his knees. "Just make it quick." When Sam didn't move, Bobby nodded. "Do it, son."
Sam and I shared a look, the same thoughts going through our minds.
"Yeah, okay, Bobby." Sam pulled a stake out of his jacket. "But you wanna know why?" he moved closer to Bobby, grabbing him around the throat.
Lifting my hand, I pushed Bobby back with my mind and watched as the stake stabbed right through him. "Because you're not Bobby."
Sam twisted the stake, causing blood to spurt out of the wound. He let Bobby go, making the body fall forward, face first to the ground. Standing again, Sam and I watched and waited.
But nothing happened.
For the first time in a long time, I felt something. I felt guilt, worry, pain, remorse. Because now I didn't know if Sam and I were right or not.
"Bobby?" Sam looked as panicked as I felt. "Bobby. Bobby!"
Suddenly Booby body vanished. The stake fell to the floor before shooting up and over Sam's shoulder, behind him, and into the hand to the Trickster.
"You're right. I was just screwing with you." The Trickster smiled. "Pretty good, though. Smart." He nodded, pointing the stake at Sam. "Let me tell you, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands. Holy Full Metal Jacket."
"Bring him back," Sam spoke so quietly I was surprised the Trickster heard him.
The trickster looked confused. "Who, Dean? Didn't my girl send you flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak."
I shook my head, not taking no for an answer. "Please. Just take us back to the Tuesday. Or Wednesday. I don't care. Just take us back to when it all started. We won't come after you. I promise."
"You promise?"
"Yes," Sam assured him.
But the Trickster didn't look convinced. "I don't know. Even if I could-"
"You can," I insisted, knowing it was well and truly within his capabilities.
"True." The Trickster nodded. "But that don't mean I should. Guys, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to teach here."
Sam frowned, not understanding- and neither was I. "Lesson? What lesson?"
The Trickster turned his attention to Sam. "This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go."
"He's my brother."
"Yup. And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him."
"Please. Just... please," Sam begged.
The Trickster rolled his eyes. "I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall. Okay, look. This all stopped being fun months ago. You're Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal. I'm over it."
I frowned. "Meaning what?"
"Meaning that's for me to know and you to find out." The Trickster lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.
SPOV
Promise me I'll be back in time
Gotta get back in time
I woke up with a start, sitting up. I was back in the hotel room... it was as if nothing had ever happened. Like the last six months had been part of my imagination or something.
"What, you gonna sleep all day?" Dean asked from where he was standing by the bathroom sink brushing his teeth. When I said nothing, he nodded. "I know, no Asia. This station sucks."
On a roll of the dice
Just in case, I looked to the clock, relieved at what I saw. "It's Wednesday."
Dean nodded as if that were obvious. "Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off."
I threw the blankets off me and hurried over, pulling Dean in for a hug. Holding him tightly, I stood there a moment or two longer than usual, missing this. It would be weird to him, but he'd never understand what this meant to me.
"Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?"
"Enough." I sighed, pulling back. "What, uh, what do you remember?"
He shrugged. "I remember you were pretty whacked out of it yesterday. I remember getting up with the Trickster. That's about it."
Suddenly the door burst open.
Neither of us had much time to react before Lizzie hurried over to Dean, grabbed him and pulled him down to her. She pressed her lips against his in a needy and desperate kiss. There was hesitation from Dean who was caught by surprise. But within a second or two he recovered, kissing her back as his arms wrapped around her, holding her to him.
Pulling back, Lizzie smiled up at Dean. "Hi."
"Hey." He still looked shocked. "You miss me or something?"
She shook her head, letting out a soft sigh. "You have no idea."
Smiling as well, I nodded to the two of them. "Let's go."
Dean looked disappointed. "No breakfast?"
I scoffed, sharing a look with Lizzie as we both answered, "No breakfast."
"All right, I'll pack the car," Dean offered.
Lizzie grabbed his arm, stopping him. "No!"
"You're not going anywhere alone," I told him.
"It's the parking lot, guys."
"Just- just trust us."
...
Ready to go, I zipped up my bag and headed over to the door where Lizzie stood waiting with her own things.
Dean reached her first, turning to me curiously. "Hey, you don't look so good. Something else happen?"
I didn't say anything at first, not wanting to tell him the truth. So I simply shrugged. "I just had a really weird dream."
He gave a short nod. "Clowns or midgets?" He grinned. When all I did was give him a small smile, he turned to Lizzie. "Wanna get out of here?"
She nodded, reaching out to grab his hand. "Yes please."
As the two of them walked off, I looked back to the room last time, seeing my unmade bed. Hoping to never see this bedroom again, I flicked the light off and closed the door, leaving this place behind for what I hoped would be forever.
Bamby
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Gone- Part 1
Summary- You are living your life like any other crazy cat lady- that’s only 20, might I add-, living with only you and your three kittens. And, one day, you find out you are of an importance in this world and the next, so you are taken.
Word Count- 2015
Warnings- Cursing, and lots and lots of cats
A/n- This is my second story! I plan on writing more often, but for now I’ll be writing every few days. And, as always, feedback is welcome! And, also as always, thanks to my friends Daisy and Jessie for helping me out on my stories!
Another A/n- By the way, when facetiming in the story, you are always italics and the other person is always bold.
I love my life, for the most part. I live by a strict daily schedule, where I wake up and start the day by feeding my cats Loki, Picasso, and Angel. I then feed myself breakfast, which usually consists of 2 scrambled eggs, 2 pieces of bacon, and 1 piece of buttered toast, coffee and orange juice. Then I shower, get ready, and all that jazz. Then I just go to work at my stupid computer job.
It is a normal Monday morning. I get up at 8:30 and stretch, yawning, and I blink the sleep out of my eyes. I rub Picasso’s belly and scratch Angel’s ears. Loki is slumped on the bottom of my bed, and he’s just snoozing. Typical Loki.
I get up and feed the cats breakfast and grab my phone from the nightstand by my bed. I turn it on, and swipe the screen to read the messages I’ve gotten.
I only have a few, like normal. The first one is from my boss, Jacob. I open the message from him and read,
“hey Y/n. there is no work today due to the huge amount of snow on the roads. take the day off! 😀”
I smile at the message, as I get to spend some time alone, not working at my computer. The next message is from my boyfriend, Sam (wink wink nudge nudge elbow elbow), and his says,
“hey babe! i was going to come over today, but dean’s impala is covered in snow! maybe we can facetime later? have a great day! love youuuu ❤❤.”
He’s such a cheesy man, that’s why I love him. Then I have the usual girl notifications. Tumblr, Instagram, the norm.
I lock my phone and make my breakfast for the day. No need to go into detail here, so next I do what’s next in my perfectly timed schedule. 9:30, right on time. Next, I have a 15 minute shower. Again, no need for details. Then, at 9:45, I get dressed, brush my teeth, and do my hair. I usually keep my hair down and straighten it, unless going out on a date with Sam, so that’s all I did today.
At 10:05, I write one of my multiple stories. I mostly have Sam and Dean tell me the details of their hunt, then I make a story off of it. It’s usually just them dressing up as FBI agents then saving the day. But, there’s just some sort of satisfaction in seeing that I know how to write.
Then, at 11:00, I usually go for a walk. But today, as there is nowhere to walk, I just stay inside and read a book. Today, I am reading “The Great Gatsby,” a classic story. I read that until 11:30, though it was had to put down, as Sam is facetiming me.
Hey babe!
Hi, whatcha’ doin?
Nothing, I was reading The Great Gatsby.
Oh. That’s cool.
Yeah. So, what are you doing?
Nothing really, just researching a case. I think it’s a wendigo.
Nice. Tell me the story when you get back?
Of course!
Then we just went on, talking about life and jobs and everything. We made arrangements to go the the movies the next day, assuming the roads were same enough to drive on.
What movie? I like horror films.!
Maybe. I was thinking more like the new one Split, but I guess that IS horror. Whaddya say?
Yeah! I’ve wanted to see that one for a while now!! Thanks Sammy!! <3
Uh huh. Let me get the tickets this afternoon.
Ok! Love you, I gotta go. See ya!!
Bye hun! Can’t wait for tomorrow :D
I pressed the “end message” button on the screen and go on with my day. 12:30, I dial my favorite delivery sushi resturaunt’s number. I tell them that they need to be here in less than 20 minutes, but they know me by now. They know when and how I like my food. But, again, I don’t need to go into detail.
You might be asking yourself, now why am I describing this? It’s because, on this very Monday, I was kidnapped.
I don’t enjoy reliving the torture, but just so we can have it on record, I will. As you know, I ordered sushi. When the ‘delivery man’ arrived, he didn’t have a car. Or sushi. Or a uniform on. I didn’t have any time to react, when the man grasped my arm, and teleported us to some sort of dungeon.
“Please, I don’t have anything! I live with my cats and my schedule! I don’t own anything special, I don’t-” I plead. The man in the suit places a silver blade onto my lips, telling me to shut the fuck up. I close my mouth, not wanting to get hurt.
“Do you know why you are here?” the man says in an extremely serious tone- almost dangerous. I shake my head no, not wanting to anger him. He nods back to me.
“Are you a Christian?” he pesters on, continuing to interrogate me. I, again, shake my head. He looks at me, then at the guards at the metal door. He gives them a simple nod, and they rush out.
“Now that we’re alone,” he states, “let’s get straight to the point. You are a prophet, okay? And, you are going to read this stone,” he says, handing me a stone with Japanese-looking text carved into it, “or you will be slowly stabbed. Get it?” he finishes. I nod, feeling a tear stream down my face.
Then, as I try to decipher the unreadable text on the stone, my eyes begin to blur. I start to recognize the strange text. It was now that I am about to start reading, when this man digs the blade into my skin.
I cry out in pain, a large wound now directly over my heart.
“I can go deeper. Now read,” he demands. I groan, nodding along with the throbbing of the pain. I go back to the stone, my eyes becoming shaky again. I begin to read the weird text again, weighing my options and at the same time trying to decide if I should help this man or not. If I don’t, I’ll just have to fake the writing. If I do help him, I’ll have to read what’s on there. But what if he kills me afterward? I don’t know what to do.
I decide to take my chances and try to read it. “C-Cut off the he-head, a-and the body will flou-flounder. Waste not th-thy time nor thy br-breath on the Levi-athan herd? What’s a Levi-athen?” I say, stuttering on the words on the tablet. I couldn’t see anything, my eyes were too cloudy and blurred. I try to blink my eyes clear, but I guess I took too long.
Another wound. This time, straight through my thigh. I shutter from the horrific pain in my upper leg.
“Y/n, why’d you leave me on such short notice?” the man says. I shake my head, waking myself up. I blink a few times and get back to the tablet.
“I-I can’t r-really s-see. M-my eyes hurt,” I say quietly. He nods, taking the tablet from my hands.
“Alright, then you get some rest. I’ll see you when you’re done,” he says, disappearing into mid-air.
I gasp. My eyes are still blurry, but this time it’s from the pain and shock of seeing my own body covered in crimson blood. My breathing comes short and ragged, and when I can breathe, it’s HARDLY. I go over to the small, hard, rock bed they laid out. He said he’d be back, so I’m just going to do what he says, and sleep.
When I wake up, I’m already in the chair, tablet in my lap. I feel a tingling feeling on my left, and when I touch there, I feel nothing. The left side of my head HAS NO EAR. Panic overtakes my body, and I begin to cry. No breathing. Just crying.
“Wh-wh-what?” is all I can stutter out. The man just shrugs, a bloody towel in his hand.
“Read,” he demands.
I take a deep, shuddering breath. I pick up the tablet, let my eyes adjust, and begin to translate. “Point t-thy blade at the h-heart of their master, f-f-for from him s-springs all their m-messages.”
I turn to the man, who nods. “Good. Keep going.”
“I- I don’t think I can.”
He raises his blade threateningly. My heart jolts and I turn back to the stone.
“L-Leviathan c-cannot be slain b-cut by the bone of a r-righteous mortal, washed in the t-three b-bloods of the f-f-fallen: a fallen angel, the ruler of fallen h-humanity, and the father of the fallen b-b-beasts.”
Everything dims. I collapse onto the ground. I hear a large crrrrackkkk of my head hitting the floor, then me fading away.
I wake up. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I feel fully energized. A man in a long trench coat is standing by me. My first thought is Wow, he’s hot, and I immediately feel bad for thinking it.
“Do you know your name?” he asks, not as demanding as the other guy. I just– wait. What’s my name? I shake my head no.
Shit. Shit. Shit, I think. This hot dude is standing right next to me and I’m acting totally helpless and stupid.
“Well, don’t worry. I’m friends with your boyfriend, Sam Winchester. I’m Castiel, an Angel of the Lord,” he states simply. I nod, even though I don’t understand a word he says.
Seriously. Sam Winchester. What the hell? I have no fucking clue who he is. My boyfriend? I don’t have one. I mean… Do I? I have no idea. But seriously, who did this guy think he was? A, what, Angel of the Lord?? Damn, that sounds stupid. And telling my who my boyfriend is. I don’t know, but I don’t think people are supposed to do that. I choose my own boyfriends. And.. Angels.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” the “angel” says.
I look at him cautiously.
“You th-thin- OW!” I try to speak, but my head pounds instead. He picks me up, bridal style, and hands me to a man with long hair.
“Y/n, you’re okay!” he cries. I scurry away, falling on the floor again. Sharp pain rips through my thigh and chest, where the first man stabbed me (twice). But I continue to run-scoot- away. I scoot until I hit Castiel’s legs.
He reaches his arms down to me to help pick me up, and I hesitantly take them. They are surprisingly soft and warm, and I can’t resist holding on to them for a few moments after he’s lifted me up.
He raises his eyebrows. “Um…..”
I take my hands back quickly. I go back on the floor, where I feel at least a bit safer.
“I have no idea who the FUCK you people are, but I’m only g-going to ask once. Stay. The fuck. Away. I’m not looking for any trouble, so I advise you to get away.” I stated. I tried to stand to stand my ground, but I just stumbled back down.
To Be Continued…
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