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im-like-if-a-girl · 3 years

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*THE* mean-girl-dean-girl's Supernatural reboot MEGAPOST!

I'm gonna stick a little "keeping reading" here because hoooooo boy, this is a very long post.

Let's start with

Plot

Season 1

Dean kills John while they are out on a hunt in a crime of passion, but Dean doesn't remember because he blacked out. Cue Dean going to Stanford to get Sam and tell him "Dad's on a hunting trip... and he hasn't been home in a couple days."

The audience doesn't know what happened to John, but slowly figures it out with Dean and Sam as Dean slowly remembers what happened that night.

The entire first season, the boys are following the trail John left and fighting monsters as well. They find out Dean was with John, Sam realizes Dean has an unreliable memory, they have heart to hearts about their childhood and the fire, they find John's body, "how could you kill Dad?" but maybe Dean didn't kill dad, whooaaaaaa, misdirection.

It was actually good ole yeller eyes (Azazel) and he made it look like Dean killed John.

Okay, now let's move on to the first episode

Not sure how the opening would work, I would like the story of the fire to be revealed over the course of the first season, but maybe the opening scene could be a little bit of an establishing character relationships and backstory, idk, I haven't thought that far yet.

I'm thinking maybe it's like, Dean gets back to a motel room covered in blood and he listens to a voicemail on his phone from John saying he was on a hunt or something, I don't really know lol.

HOWEVER

I do know that after the intro rolls, we get a scene of Sam waking up to his alarm and "Nine to Five" by Dolly Parton starts playing.

Y'all know where this is going.

Cue a montage of Sam's normal Stanford college life (him sitting through lectures, walking through the campus with friends) spliced with scenes of Dean absolutely slaughtering a nest of vampires (or some other monsters, whatever works best.)

But

Now onto

Characters!!! (And descriptions)

Dean Winchester

Some lovely person on this site made edits of Dean with platinum blond hair and it made me feel some kind of way so we're doing that, homie's gonna have platinum blond hair

Side note about the hair, later when the brothers are running from the FBI he dyes it a dirty blond/light brown (insert jackles hair color controversy here) as a disguise.

He also gets tattoos because we were robbed.

Speaking of tattoos, concept: when Dean comes back from Hell, all of his tattoos are gone. His body is a clean slate, devoid of tattoos, scars, etc. So he gets his tattoos done all over again, which he doesn't mind because he made some bad, drunk tattoo decisions in his youth.

(And before you ask, yes, he does get one for Cas, either a bee or Cas's name in enochian, something cute.)

Dean goes to therapy after Sam gets sent to the Cage.

It's actually court mandated because he got in trouble, lol, he would never go to therapy on his own.

Along with the hair, Dean gets to be the grade A twunk we all know he is.

Sam Winchester

His hair gets longer in every scene he's in

No jk, but imagine

King of Microaggressions

Sam starts off like the sweetheart he is in season 1 but in later seasons he starts enjoying killing a little too much...

It's that demon blood, ba-by!!!

He brings up issues of morality to Dean, i.e. killing monsters who aren't hurting anyone. (Yes I know this is contradictory to my previous statement, but these two facets of Sam can and will coexist.)

Sam and Jess's relationship is explored further, meaning we'll need to start with a different inciting incident, but that's fine, I think everyone can agree fridgings are *(thumbs down)*

Sam doesn't truly know what happened the night of the fire until later, and then he understands why Dean is so protective of him.

Jess

She gets to live beyond the first episode

She is also trans

No, I don't feel like I have to explain myself and I won't 💜

She urges Sam to join Dean in a search for their brother, kind of gets pulled into the hunter lifestyle by association lol.

She dies on a rusty nail after fighting vampires on a routine hunt with Sam

No jk!!!

But imagine....

She's amazing and I love her and Lucifer also uses her as leverage against Sam and possesses her because I think that'd be cool.

She supports Sam 100% and also she and Dean are buddies, pals if you will.

She meets Cas Thee El and immediately she Knows, that is a homosexual.

She dies still so that we can have a Saileen Endgame but she's not dying the first episode or in a fridging. Not on my watch.

Castiel

He gets to keep his raw, light-fixture-exploding power.

I want more of that "I pulled you out of hell, I can throw you back in" energy except over dumb shit like Dean not cleaning up after himself.

He looks like a Dilf in every scene he's in, yeah, that's right, dilf with a capital D for *(GUNSHOTS)* *(gets sent to horny jail)*

Claire

She gets pink hair

And more time with Cas

And maybe a nose piercing

Feel like she should be able to kill a couple angels onscreen, punch a couple homophobes

She gets to meet Jack and teaches him swears and fun slang words.

She deserves it.

Jack

I says "that's my baby and I'm proud."

Jack starts off as a baby, but like Amara he grows up super quickly.

Like, baby to 11 year old in a couple days or less.

This is because Jack's emotional age on the show is on par with that of a 5th grader.

It's at this point when he's a young kid that he runs away from the Bunker and shenanigans ensue.

It's also at this point that Dean threatens to k*ll him.

(Still not sure if I want that in my Supernatural (threatened infanticide? In my Supernatural? It's more likely than you think) but we'll see. We'll see.)

Throughout a majority of season 13, Jack is like an 11 y.o. kid

Season 14 he's like a 16 y.o. teenager

Season 15 he's 21, you get the picture.

Listen, I love Alex Calvert a lot. He's great.

But Jack is a child and should be a child.

Kelly Kline

Kelly, baby, stay right where you are, you're perfect.

Eileen

SHE DOESN'T DIE

SHE GETS TO BE IN THE FINALE BECAUSE SHE'S AMAZING AND I LOVE HER.

BLURRY WIFE WHO? I ONLY KNOW SAILEEN ENDGAME!

She teaches Claire and Jack swears in sign-language. Castiel is not impressed.

John

J*hn W*nchester stans, DNI.

He's dead.

We only see him in flashbacks and only sometimes hear his voice in voice overs.

He's not "down the road" from Dean in Heaven, in fact he instead gets to wander around in some Purgatory like Hell for the rest of his time :)

People who get to say "fuck" on the show:

Cas (but only Once)

Jody

Bobby

Now onto other things

I want more of

Ghostfacers

(they need more screentime because I love them)

Dean/Benny

We know they had a thing.

They definitely had a thing.

Demon Dean

Again, I feel like more should've been done with this. All that build up for what, 2 episodes? was not utilized well at all.

Dean's Bisexuality

Straight Dean truthers DNI, my Supernatural is a show about love and being true to yourself

You think Supernatural is a show about 2 straight brothers fighting monsters?

Naw bitch, this is a show about the Gay Experience

He will get to have relations with men on this show.

Of course, only after John dies does he, y'know, display it. Maybe he kisses Cas on his dad's grave just to fuck John over, make him roll in grave.

We all agree John would be/is a homophobe piece of shit, right?

Okay, glad we're on the same page.

Dads

3 men and a baby with Jack is what I'm saying.

I love it when the Trio are father-figures to younger troubled characters they see themselves in, even better if it's like reluctant-but-loving father figure, oh, that trope gets me every time :'^)

Dadstiel and DadDean are my favorites, but I like it when Sam plays "Uncle Sam" to kids too lol.

"Fellas, is it gay to want a tight knit family with your husband, his son, his vessel's daughter, your brother, his wife, your cop mother figure and her wife and their adopted daughters? Asking for a friend."

Garth

Biggest flaw of Supernatural was underutilizing Garth.

I will never not be bitter that Garth was only in like, 7 episodes out of the whole 15 season series.

Every episode with Garth gets immediately 5 times better.

I love Garth.

Follow ups on characters who had entire episodes featured around them and then just... vanished???

This is mostly about Jesse, the magic kid whose imagination ruled an entire town like, his daddy was a demon and nothing came of that kid??? Only one episode about him?? No follow up???

KID CAN MANIPULATE REALITY AND WE'RE NOT GONNA GET A FOLLOW UP ON THAT?????

Uh, there was that one episode with Ennis the guy whose girlfriend was killed by a monster? I think?? Who we never see again, that was weird.

Tamara from season 3, episode 1.

And of course-

Cassie

She was so cool, and then we never saw her again :////

She gets to be a badass.

Religious imagery

As a former Catholic school student who has become for the most part, disillusioned with religion, religious imagery in TV shows like Supernatural make my brain go "brrrrrr."

Fun episodes!!!

Like, after season 6 or so, there's a drop in funny episodes

I'm talking Changing Channels, The French Mistake type stuff. (Scoobynatural is an outlier and should not be counted.)

So anyway

In my version we would have more fun episodes

I'm thinking

GENDER-SWAP EPISODE, BABY!!

(why they didn't do that in the original, we'll never know.)

An episode where Dean gets to wear eyeliner

That's it, end of post.

I want less

Racism

Yeah I feel like this is self explanatory, nearly every reoccurring character in SPN is white, and black side characters normally die in the episode they first appear in, or they'll be featured as a villain (Uriel, Raphael, Billie, etc)

Also there's a lot of... uh... asian fetishism featured in the show (what with "Busty Asian Beauties) that's really gross, also Kevin was a bit of a stereotype...

Also also it's super yucky how they kill the gods from other religions like???? Uh??? That's super disrespectful, let's not do that????

I know Supernatural is like, inherently racist because monsters are a separate race that are seen as some dangerous "other" that must be eradicated by hunters in a form of genocide-

Okay we won't get into that but

Still

Stop killing all your POC

Fridgings/Unecessary murders of female characters

I know Supernatural starts with a fridging, so this will be a hard thing to remedy, but

One death that really pissed me off was the death of Charlie

Yeah, that was pointless and we're not doing that. Charlie gets to live and be an awesome aunt to Jack.

And also Claire

Charlie Bradbury Superiority

Charlie and Garth get to meet because they're nerd/geek solidarity.

British Men of Letters

I fucking hate these guys

They're "litcherally" the worst.

The worst part is that the actors they have playing the British AREN'T. EVEN. BRITISH.

And you can tell

Uh, and that's all for now, I'll add more later.

tag list for people who liked my "if this post gets one like I'll post my SPN reboot masterpost" post.

@darianyunidi @sarasidlesaid @crazybananaalpaca @playfulpanthress @ultfreakme @fififeelsmellow @heller-char @luna8eaton @princessmeganfire @insanebot109 @queenofnightsnow @mongoose-underthehouse

Thank you for the support, hope the wait was worth it.

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foreverknightalways · 3 years

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Nick and Schanke drive to Mistress Tamara's office. Schanke asks Is this is same building they busted Kozak? Nick says He bets they have adjoining bunkers. As Nick and Schanke walk in Schanke calls for Tamara. Tamara says she will be out in a minute. As Tamara walk in she declares, you are men! What do you think? Schanke answers the only time his wife wears rubber is when she is washing dishes. Tamara says to Schanke, you never know until you try.

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noladyme · 4 years

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Skip To My Lou, My Darling - Chapter 7, This Is How You Remind Me Of What I Really Am I

The road so far...

Lulu has somewhat settled in to the bunker with the Winchesters - the ever affectionate Dean, and his sick brother, Sam - after facing both vampires, demons and a frozen ghost. Frustrated from all training and no actual hunting, she seeks out something for herself. But when she meets the scribe of God, her world - once again - is turned upside down.

Our story continues in season 9.

Tag list @edonaspanca @wonderlandfandomkingdom

“… with the fall a witness/keeper (translation unclear) will be chosen; and she will come to know them all by their grace…” - Kevin Tran’s translation from old Enochian, from the angel tablet; handwritten by God’s scribe.

---

“No”. “Yes!”. “It’s not happening”. “Dean, come on…!”.

A month after our incident in Sioux Falls, Dean was still sore about me driving his car without his say so. It had been 15 of the most thrilling minutes of my life, before he’d literally threatened to set fire to Sam’s computer – and I’d relented; pulling over to let him drive his baby himself. I’d spent days after our return to the bunker making amends in every way possible; but even pie and sex – and pie during sex – had still not earned me back my front seat privileges.

“Sam’s not even going out with us – and you won’t let Kevin leave the bunker. I’m not sitting in the back seat, when it’s just the two of us in the car”, I complained. “Then you’re not going”, Dean declared. “Fine. You go grocery shopping alone”, I smirked. “I’m late, anyways. Remember my shade?”. Dean frowned. “I’m not buying you lipstick alone!”. I crossed my arms. “You absolutely are. I need it”, I said. “For what?”, Dean whined. “For my job…”, I said.

I’d taken a job as a bartender in a small music venue in Kansas City, just across the state line to Missouri. I didn’t actually have any bills to pay, but I hated living of Dean and Sam; and wanted my own earnings.

“You don’t need to work. I can have Charlie set you up with a card”, Dean muttered. “Ugh, this again”, I groaned. “You’ve had me on lockdown for weeks! I need to go out… Further away than the local Wendy’s”. “So, now you’re complaining about my choice of date-destinations?”, Dean grunted. I rolled my eyes. “Yeah… date”, I grumbled. “I paid!”, Dean “Even got you flowers…”. “That you stole from a Gas-n-Go!”, I frowned. “You even made me distract the cashier while you did it”. “What about the candlelit dinner?”, he asked. “We went through the drive-thru; and you put a birthday candle in my burger!”, I yelled. “And – oh yeah – Sam was there”. “It was a job!”, Dean shrugged. “Not my fault the joint was haunted”.

I threw my hands up in frustration, and stomped out of Deans room, to go find my stuff in room 13. He followed me down the hall. “And when are you gonna move in properly?”, he grunted. “You sleep in my room every night. No reason to waste electricity on another room”. “You have an unlimited supply of resources in this place”, I muttered, and stepped into the room; searching my bag for the dress demon-Tamara had given me. It would be fine for my first shift at the bar; as long as I wore jeans underneath it.

“It’s like you don’t want to be here… around me”, Dean said. I turned to face him. “This has nothing to do with you, Dean”, I smiled. “I need this for myself. I can’t be your in house sex-bunny for the rest of my life!”. Dean smirked and stepped up to me – twirling a lock of my hair around his fingers. “You didn’t mind last night…”, he teased.

He slid his hand around my waist, and pulled me flush against him. I swallowed hard, as his scent hit my nose, and warmth began merging from my core. “Dean…”, I croaked; as he leant in, and brushed his lips against my neck. “Lou…”, he breathed. His other hand travelled down to my bottom. “I need…”, I rasped. “Me too…”, Dean smiled; and moved his mouth to nibble at my lobe. “No… Oh, that feels… No!”. I pushed him away. “I have to get ready…”. “For grocery shopping?”, Dean grunted. “For work!”, I sighed. “You’re shopping alone, remember?”.

Dean went to lean against the wall. “I’d honestly rather have you hunting…”, he muttered. I smiled over my shoulder at him, and got out my makeup purse. “The last time we went on a hunt together – not counting the Wendy’s poltergeist – I got a ghost STD”, I chuckled. “So you’re done hunting?”, Dean asked; a slight hopeful tone to his voice. “Nope”, I said; and began taking off my t-shirt. “You just gonna look at me, while I change?”. “Absolutely!”, Dean smirked. I pulled off my top completely; walked over to him; and placed his hands on my bra-covered breasts. “Boobs. You happy now?”, I sighed. Dean looked like a kid in a candy store, and he smiled at my mounds. “Now, will you let me get ready?”.

I backed away from my main squeeze; leaving him to squeeze the air. “Oh, come on!”, he whined. “You can’t do that, and then just…”. “I absolutely can”, I smiled. “Oh, and until you let me ride shotgun again, that’s the last time you’ll get near these puppies”. “Fine!”, Dean growled. “But no driving!”.

I pulled the dress over my head, and pulled it down over my bottom. “You gonna wear pants with that?”, he muttered. “I hadn’t planned on it”, I lied; and instantly decided not to. “Do you have a problem with how I look?”, I challenged; turning around to face him again – sending him a sly grin. “Not at all… if you were a strip…”. He paused when he saw my expression. “Strip… mall… employee… Please don’t kill me”. He tried for an innocent smile. I sighed. “I like this dress. I like how I look in it”, I said. “So do I”, Dean retorted. “And so will every other male in a fifty mile radius, with a pulse… Maybe even some women”. “And that’s a problem?”, I asked.

Dean sat down on the bed, and threw his hands up in surrender. “What do you want me to say?”, he asked. “Go serve beers to strangers, looking like a dancer from an AC/DC video; and leave me here with my sick brother, to figure out how to close the gates of Hell?”. I blushed. “You think I look that good?”, I smiled. Dean grunted nonsensically.

I walked over to him, and straddled his lap; running my fingers through his short hair. “You wanted me to stay out of these trials; and I am”, I said. “I’m not even complaining that you’re keeping the king of Hell in the dungeon, we were supposed to make into a playroom”. I was still unhappy that I’d been cheated out of having a place to set up a gaming-room to hang out with Charlie in when she visited – I’d fallen in complete platonic love with the sweet nerd, after we’d been introduced a few weeks before.

Dean put his arms around my waist, and held me close. “There’s too much going on right now… You, out there – alone… I don’t like it”. His expression was serious. “I have my tattoo…”. I kissed his forehead. “… hex bags…”. His left cheek. “… my blade…”. Right cheek. Dean raised a brow at me. “Which you’ll hide where?”, he grunted. “That dress is… Crap, you really look hot!”. I chuckled, and pressed my lips to his. Dean held me tighter – making our kiss linger – and very distracting thoughts develop in my brain.

I groaned in frustration as he leant backwards, pulling me with him. “Stay…”, he breathed against my lips; and pushed me to lay on my back – leaning over me. His hand wandered up my thigh, and slid under the dress; tugging at my panties at my hip. “Dean…”, I sighed. “You want me to stop?”, he smirked, and moved his lips to kiss my neck; while putting his leg over me – his knee between my legs. “No… But I have to go”. “You really don’t…”, he whispered, and stroked his index finger inside my underwear; making me gasp when it found my folds. “It’s gonna take me forever to get to KC, without a ride. I need to catch a bu… oh my god…”. Deans finger entered me, and his thumb stroked my clit in that delicious way he’d found could make me soar. “I’ll give you a ride…”, he chuckled. “I’ll even drive you to work, afterwards”. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is…”, I moaned. “Right back at you, sweetheart”, Dean smirked.

As Dean kept pushing all the right buttons, I was soon quivering under his touch. He circled my nub, and stroked my walls in slow torturous movements, and with a desperate squeak, I came. “You don’t play fair”, I whimpered. “Playing fair doesn’t win the game. I taught you that during poker lessons”, he chuckled. He removed his finger from my insides, and slipped it into his mouth. “Now that that is settled, we can get back to that naked Karate Kid marathon”.

I got my panties back in place, and laughed softly. “I’m still going to work”, I smiled. “What?”, Dean grunted. “You thought you could convince me with a bit of playtime?”, I chuckled. I got up from the bed – trying desperately not to give away how much like jelly my legs felt – and pulled my dress back down. Dean grumbled, and got up as well.

I grabbed my leather jacket – slid my blade into the pocket I’d sown into that one as well – and put it and my ankle boots on. Dean followed me down the hallway – a sour expression on his face. We bumped in to Kevin, who instantly blushed at the sight of me. “You look nice, ma’am”, he said, not meeting my eyes; and scuttered off into his own room. “Thanks, Kevin!”, I smiled at him, as he closed the door behind him. “That kid is weird…”, I muttered. “He just doesn’t know how to talk to girls”, Dean said. “Especially ones in mini-dresses”.

Sam was seated in front of his computer in the library; looking sick as a dog. “How are you feeling?”, I said. Sam coughed, and ran a hand over his face. “I’ll be fine”, he said. Dean frowned. “I finished your ID. You sure about the name, though?”. “Yup”, I smiled. He handed me a driver’s license with my picture on it. “Well, here you go; Jordan Knight from Denver”, he said with a crooked smile. “Thank you”, I said.

I went to grab my purse. “Pop quiz!”, Dean called out. “I’ve got a bus to catch”, I groaned. Dean raised a brow at me. “Fine. Go”. “Werewolf”, Dean said. “Silver”, I sighed. “Ghoul?”, Sam challenged. “Decapitation”, I retorted. “We’re being too easy on you…”, Dean grunted. “Lamia”. “Season well with rosemary and salt; then cook over fire until dead”, I said, rolling my eyes. “Can I go now? I’ll be late”. “Smartass”, Dean muttered.

Sam stood up. “You got your hex bags? Holy water?”. I picked up my purse from the table. “Yes, dad”, I smiled. He chuckled weakly. “See you tomorrow”. Dean followed me to the stairs. “I put silver bullets in your .45. Carved devil’s traps into them”, he muttered. “Thanks, Daddy”, I smirked – making his lips twitch into a smile. I got on my toes, and kissed him gently. He squeezed my bottom. “I should take you…”, he said. I looked back at Sam, who’d gone back to his work. “You need to take care of your little brother”, I said. “Get groceries – and my lipstick. I’m almost out”. He grunted, and stole another kiss; before I walked up the stairs, and left the bunker.

---

It being my first shift at the bar, I was happy it wasn’t too busy. A cover band played poor renditions of Queen; and the free drinks for employees came in handy – making it easier to deal with the guitarist’s butchering of the classics. Tips were good as well; probably due to my dress.

Taking a break around midnight, I checked my phone. I had one voicemail. “Lou. We had to go. Kevin figured out something… I don’t know when we’ll be back. I’m sorry… We brought the house guest with us, so you’ll have the place to yourselves… Please be careful. Don’t go out there alone. You know what I’m talking about… I love you”.

Don’t go out there alone. Dean didn’t want me hunting; but he also didn’t tell me where he and Sam where going, or what they were doing. They’d taken Crowley. Whatever was happening, it was big – and I couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated to not have been included in the plans. Sam was sick, and Dean knew I would do anything for his brother – and for him.

I frowned my way through the rest of the shift; and hitched a ride with one of my new coworkers back to Lebanon. She was a cute as a button girl – just out of college – named Chloe. “It was a good first night for you Jordan! You should have seen me on my first shift”, she smiled, as I got out of the car by a building, I’d told her I lived in. “Yeah, I’ve worked in bars before”, I said. “I can tell. Well, good night!”. I waved her off, and waited until her Volvo was out of sight, before I took the 3-mile trek towards the bunker, on foot.

It felt strangely empty without the boys and Castiel there. Kevin’s face went white the minute I’d stepped into the library, and he practically ran to his room, to avoid conversation. Both the brother’s rooms showed evidence of them packing up in a hurry; Dean even having nabbed one of my own flannels – either by mistake, or because he liked how it’s snugness looked on him. Knowing him, it was probably the latter.

I texted him once I’d crawled under the sheets in his bed. - You stole my shirt. Bring it back whole. And come back whole yourself. x I snuggled up to his pillow, which smelled like his shampoo, musk and gunpowder – reminding me to put my gun under my own pillow as I slept.

I had a restless sleep; and when I woke around noon, I still hadn’t heard back from Dean or Sam. I was getting worried, and considered calling up some of the emergency numbers I had in my phone; to see if any hunters had heard from any of them. I decided against it, knowing that the brothers would give me hell if I got anyone else involved in their plans. For all I knew, they were actually in the process of saving the world right then and there.

---

My second night at the bar was busier than the night before. I was struggling with not knowing what was going on with Dean and Sam; and once again with the music. Bad renditions of Queen were now terrible ones of Zeppelin. Dean would have torn the place apart; or at the very least threatened the lead singer with a black eye, if he was there.

“Jordan! Table 4”, Chloe called out, and handed me a tray of drinks. I made my way through the crown, and smilingly served the patrons waiting. Once back at the bar, I checked my phone again. Nothing. I went into a storage room, and called up Kevin. “Hello…?”. “Kevin, it’s Lulu. Have you heard from the guys?”. There was no answer. “Kevin?”. “Sorry”, he squeaked. “You have my number?”. “Uh huh. And now you have mine”, I smiled. “Cool…”, the advanced placement student breathed. “Kevin? You heard from them”, I asked. “Uhm… no. Nothing. I can call you… if I do. Is it ok if I call you?”, he croaked. “Yes, Kevin. It’s ok if you call me”, I sighed. “Ok. Bye!”. He hung up. “Weird kid…”, I muttered.

I gave in, and dialed up Dean. Waiting to hear from him was tearing me apart. “This is Dean’s other, other, other cell. Two people have this number. If you’re not one of them, hang up. Sam; you know the deal. Find the nearest bar. Lou; yes… to whatever you’re about to say. Unless it’s driving privileges… beep”. I sighed. “Dean… What’s going on? Are you ok? I’m worried. Please call me… And I’m getting behind that wheel at some point. We both know it… I love you”. I hung up, and went back to work.

I plastered on my fakest grin, and served beers for another hour, before, suddenly, someone called out for me. And not a person I’d hoped. “Lulu?”. I froze in place. “Lulu! It is you!”. Pete was standing right in front of me. “Hi… Pete”, I croaked. “What are you doing here? I thought you went back to Denver, when your old job went out of business”. Pete grinned at me. “Yeah, I did. I’m filling in as a singer for the next band”, he said. “Their lead has mono”. “Oh… ok”, I said.

He opened his arms for a hug, and I stepped into his arms; giving him a half-hearted embrace. A chill went through my body, reminding me of the intense cold I’d experienced while suffering from ghost possession a month before. “How are you?”, he asked. “Did Alaska not work out?”. “It was… too cold”, I said; and wiggled out of his hold. “You look good, honey”, he said. “Pete…”, I groaned. “Sorry, I know… It’s still hard not to think of you like that…”, Pete muttered. “I still think you and me…”. I shook my head. “No… Let’s not do that”, I said. “Is there someone else”. “Yes”, I replied. “And it’s serious?”, he croaked. “Very”, I nodded. “Look, my shift is almost over. I have to go”.

I went to pick up a tray from the bar, but Pete followed. “Lulu!”, he sighed, and grabbed my arm. “I have to go”, I said, and shrugged him off. “Who is he?”, Pete called after me. “How long? Was it while you and I were still…? Lulu, you owe me that much”. I sighed. “I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it”. “Why?”. I ran my hand through my hair, desperate to avoid the situation. “I’m in… witness protection”, I said quietly. Pete frowned. “After that thing at your hotel? With those fugitives?”. I nodded. “It’s complicated. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone you saw me here”.

“Jordan!”, Chloe called from behind the bar. “You gonna grab these drinks?”. I snatched up the tray. “Pete… Have a good show”, I muttered, and walked away; leaving him looking flabbergasted after me.

I knew what my encounter with Pete meant. I couldn’t keep working here. I should have stayed out of KC all together; but doing something for myself had made me happy. Nabbing up my tips, I discretely got my purse and my jacket, and slipped out the back of the bar, hurrying down the busy street, to catch a bus or a ride, or whatever I could, to get back to Lebanon.

The hair at the back of my neck were raising, and I felt shivers down my spine. Something was wrong. A part of my training with Sam and Dean the last month, had literally been hide and go seek; and I was at the point where I could feel it in my bones, when I was being tailed. Sliding my hand into my purse, I cocked the hammer on my gun, and went down an alley. I ducked behind a dumpster; and waited.

Pete came down the alley, clearly having followed me. I secured my gun, and stepped forward. “Pete, you should go. Please”, I said. Pete stepped over to me, and pulled me into his arms. He seemed stronger than he’d been when we were together, and it took everything in me to not let my hunter instinct take over, and go for my blade. “Let me go”, I muttered. “For both our sakes”. He pulled his head back, and looked at me with hard eyes. “Why? Because he’ll hurt you otherwise? Or me?”. I put my hands to his chest, and pushed hard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, I sputtered. Pete narrowed his eyes at me, and ran his fingers down the still healing bruise on my neck, where the vampire Patrick had bitten me. “This… This is what he does to you. I can see in your eyes that you’re afraid!”.

Pete wasn’t wrong. I was afraid, but not of Dean. I was afraid for him, and for the rest of the world, with everything he and Sam were doing at the moment. Pete tilted his head, and stroked my cheek. “I lie awake… I drive myself crazy, thinking of you”, he sang softly. “Why are you singing that song?”, I croaked. “It’s your song… remember? You thought I wouldn’t remember, how you’d sing this to yourself, in the shower; while cleaning the bar after closing time… Even after sex. And then you’d close your eyes, and frown. That cute little frown”. He ran a finger across my forehead. “It’s not my song, Pete”. I knew I’d have to say something now, to finally get through to him. “It’s ours. His and mine. It was always him… I’m sorry”.

I shrugged Pete off, and began walking back towards the street, when suddenly he grabbed my arm, and put his hand on the back of my head, pressing his lips to mine. I desperately tried to push him off. “Stop!”, I cried out. Pete almost growled. “You know, you broke my heart!”, he said. “When you left me. You and me… we’re endgame. So you can call yourself Lulu or Jordan, or whatever… I’m still gonna…”. He pushed me backwards against a wall, and held me there. “Let me make you happy again”, he breathed, and attacked my lips. I tried raising my knee, but Pete pushed it down, and held himself flush against me – holding on hard to my arm, probably leaving bruises.

“Hey!”, someone called out. A middle-aged man had appeared in the alley. He put a hand on Pete’s arm, and pulled him off me. “I think you should leave the lady alone”. “Stay out of this, man!”, Pete snarled. “I’m her…”. He was distracted long enough for me to raise my fist, and punch him across the jaw, making him stumble backwards. “Leave, Pete!”, I growled. “Before something really bad happens”.

Pete stepped forwards, with an enraged expression painted on his face. The stranger stepped between us, and put a hand on his shoulder. Pete’s face immediately calmed, as he looked at the man. “Walk away, Pete. Now’s not the time”. “Now’s not the time”, Pete repeated; turned around, and walked out of the alley – leaving me with the stranger.

“Hello, Lulu”, the man smiled. I slipped my hand into my purse, and pulled out my gun. “Silver bullets, and devil’s traps carved into them”, I growled. “Who are you, and why are you here?” The man raised his hands into the air. “I’m not a demon!”, he called out. “And those bullets won’t hurt me… My name is Metatron”. I looked the man over. He was short; on the chubby side, and had unruly curly hair. He didn’t look that part of the scribe of God. “You?”, I grunted; slowly lowering my gun. “You’re Metatron?”. The little man smiled softly. “Yes, I am”, he said.

I took a step backwards, secured my gun, and put it back into my purse. “What do you want with me?”. He grinned. “Castiel speaks highly of you. Says you are a good friend, and that he enjoys spending time with you”, he responded. “I don’t have many friends here on earth, and in just a minute, something very big is going to happen. I’d like to share the moment with someone special. You will be the witness”. Metatron raised two fingers – walked towards me – and put them against my chest; right above my heart. A jolt went through me, like someone had put live electricity through my body. I cried out in pain. “What did you do to me? Where is Cass?”, I croaked. On shaky legs I tried to move away; but the angel grabbed my arm. “He’s… unavailable”, Metatron replied. “Now come here. Stand next to me”. I shook my head, and reached for my blade in my jacket. “No thank you. Stranger danger”, I gulped. The angel frowned. “That’s not very friendly. Especially after I saved you from Pete. Come here!”, he said; and yanked hard at my arm. “Look up!”.

I followed his line of sight into the sky; and my jaw dropped. “Can you see them?”, Metatron breathed. What looked like falling stars or comets where dropping from the sky, lighting up the alley, and the angel’s smiling face. “What are they?”, I croaked. “It’s the angels…”, he sighed. “They’re falling. Isn’t it beautiful?”. My breath hitched. “What did you do?”, I rasped. “What did we do? We changed the world!”, Metatron laughed. “I’m creating a new heaven”.

The angel grabbed my hand, and kissed my knuckles. “Thank you for sharing this moment with me!”, he smiled. “Castiel was right to choose you. You’re a good companion… I’ll remember that”. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, I whispered, and pulled my arm from his grasp. “It means, I’ll consider letting you live… if you make the right decisions when the time comes”. He winked at me. “Go home… wherever that is. We’ll meet again”. He was gone.

I tucked away my blade, and made my way back to the street on wobbly legs. People around me were looking at the sky. Once in a while I’d hear a random stranger mutter yes, and see them jolt slightly. It was as if an aura of light would come over them afterwards.

I dialed up Dean. After three rings, he finally picked up. “Lou”, he croaked. “Dean, what’s happening? The sky is on fire, and I was just… molested by both my ex and the scribe of God!”, I almost yelled. A homeless man passing me, gave me a strange look. “What did he do? Did he hurt you?”, Dean growled. “I don’t know…”, I admitted. “He touched me in that freaky angel way. Said he wanted me to witness”, I breathed. “What the hell…?”. I could hear that he was driving. “Baby, go home”. I continued walking down the sidewalk, once in a while getting a strange look from random strangers. They would nod at me, as if they knew me – their eyes alight with something I couldn’t define. “I can’t”, I whispered. “I think I have something stuck to my shoe”. “Dammit!”, Dean cried out, at my use of code. “Ok… Have you heard from Cass?”. “No, nothing”. I sighed. “Did you finish it?”. “No”, Dean said. “Yes… it’s complicated. Sam’s hurt. I have to find some help for him”. “Oh my god… What can I do?”. “Nothing… Lou, you need to disappear. Don’t let anyone find you. You know how to do that”. “Dean…”, I whimpered. “Please let me come to you. I need to help. I don’t even know who I’m hiding from”. “Help me by staying safe. Out of sight. Please do this for me, Lou… I can’t lose both of you”, Dean rasped. “I love you…”. “I love you, Dean”, I whispered. “I’ll find you when it’s over”. He hung up.

I was alone again. Kansas City wasn’t an option, I needed to get out of there as soon as possible. If I went to Lebanon – to the bunker – I’d draw whoever I was hiding from to it. I only had my most basic hunting tools, and no skills to fight anything more dangerous than a vampire or a very weak demon. The only thing I could do was – for once – to listen to Dean, and do as I was told. I needed to disappear.

---

I hadn’t learnt to hotwire a car, and had no real cash to get me anywhere, so hitchhiking was my way forward. It took me 4 days to get to a small town in Michigan, named Hell. I was nothing if not aware of my situation. Last time I’d disappeared, I’d gone to Nowhere, because I didn’t want to be found by Dean, or by anyone else for that matter. This time, I’d literally gone to Hell, to avoid angels.

I was hungry and tired when I got out of a car full of rowdy frat boys, who wanted to party in the home of the Devil himself. I declined their offer of shacking up with them in their hotel, and instead searched out a cheap motel; which I knew I had no way to pay for. I’d have to think about that later.

Dean hadn’t called me, and I was unsure whether it would be safe to call him. I holed up in my room, snacked on cheap noodle cups, and kept my head down, when I once in a while was forced to leave the room by the maid – who would not take no for an answer, when I said I didn’t need my room cleaned up. I couldn’t be around her when she worked; her eyes were too intense, and she stared at me in a weird way.

After 3 more days of sheer panic; my phone finally rang, as I was lying in bed. I didn’t recognize the number, and my hands where shaking when I picked up. “Hello?”, I muttered. “Baby?”, Deans voice said. “What table?”, I croaked. “13. Always 13”, his warm voice said. “Dean… What’s going on? Can I come home?”, I whimpered. “Where are you?”, he asked. “Is it safe for you to know?”, I retorted. “Yeah…”. “In Hell”, I said. “What?”, he grunted. “Michigan. Hell. It’s a thing”, I sighed. “I wanna come back…”. Dean paused before answering. “That’s not a good idea right now, Lou”. “Oh…”, I croaked. “I’m sorry. Sam’s not… himself. It might not be safe. For either of you”. “I understand”, I lied. “You’re lying”, he grunted. “Yeah, I am. Why can’t you tell me what’s happening? When will this be over?”. He sighed, and I heard him moving from his room and down the hall – I recognized the echo. “Soon. I think. I need to keep Sam safe. And you”. “From what?”, I asked. “I don’t know who the bad guys are, and I don’t know how to protect myself from them… You know I hate to admit it, but I’m freaking out here!”. He must have stepped into the library, because the echo changed again. “I know… Look, I have to finish something up here, but after that I can come up to Michigan”, he said. “I wish… I wish it was different. Just please trust me”.

I heard Sam step into the room. “Is that Lulu?”, he asked. “How’s her case going?”. “What is he talking about, Dean?”, I asked. “Yeah, it’s good. She’s good”, Dean said. “Look, sweetheart, I gotta go. Sam says hi. And uhm… iron, for witches. Ok?”. “Dean?”, I breathed. “Bye”. He hung up.

I dropped the phone on the bed, and curled up. Something was very wrong.

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I woke to a text from Kevin. Hi. This is Kevin Tran. Dean wants your address. So if you could text me back with that, that would be cool. xo K-Man. Five minutes later I got another text from the kid. Hi again. I didn’t mean to write xo. That was just a typo. Have a nice day. Kevin. I chuckled to myself, and texted him my info, sending him an xo in return. Because he deserved it.

In the afternoon I scraped up what little cash I had, and went to the front desk to pay for the week, but was informed that it had already been taken care of by a card registered to Gene Simmons. At least Dean had my back there. I was frustrated and angry. Dean was lying to Sam about where I was and what I was doing; and he apparently didn’t trust me enough to let me know what was going on either. At the same time, I missed him like crazy, and wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, and feel his warmth. In more ways than one, I was in Hell.

When the door knocked the morning after, I sprang out of bed, and quickly got dressed in jeans and my tank-top, to finally yell at the maid to go Heaven, because we were already in Hell; and I wanted her far, far away. I yanked open the door, and enraged look on my face; when I immediately let out a sigh of relief at the man in front of me.

Dean looked exhausted. He had dark circles around his eyes, and he was healing from some bruises to his jaw. I grabbed a hold of his jacket collar, and pulled him close – throwing my arms around his neck – and kissed him. “I drove all night”, he rasped. “I’m so sorry, Lou…”. “Shut up, and come in”, I said, and breathed in his scent; before pulling him inside. Dean looked around the room. “Wow… you really did go to Hell”, he grunted. “Does this place even take HBO?”. “The tv doesn’t work”, I muttered. “What happened? The truth, Dean. I can’t deal with lies right now”.

Dean scrunched up his brows. “I don’t know what to tell you… What happened with Metatron?”, he asked. I shrugged, still confused. “He was… weird”. “They tend to be”, Dean smirked. “Yeah but… The way he touched me… Then he wanted me to stand with him, and look at the angels falling. Witness, he said…”. Dean’s eyes fell to the ground. “He said that?”, he grunted. “Witness…”. “Yeah… Does that mean anything to you?”. Dean cleared his throat, and shook his head. “No. Nothing. Probably just weird angel talk… you know how they can be”. His expression was unreadable.

“Did they all fall? Where are they?”, I asked. “We think so… It seems Metatron tricked Cass into locking up Heaven…”, Dean muttered. “Holy crap…”, I gasped. “How is Sam?”, I muttered, walking over to make the bed – feeling strangely vulnerable. “We ended the trials… stopped before he could finish”, he said. “They were killing him…”. “Is he ok?”, I gulped. I couldn’t bear the thought of my friend hurt. “He’s getting there. I have someone working on it”.

I went to turn on the brewer for coffee. Dean knew my routine, and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet under the counter. I scratched my head. “I can’t stay here. I have none of my things with me. I can’t even hunt”. Dean narrowed his eyes. “Right…”, he said; before leaving the room for a moment – coming back with my backpack, and a duffle. “I brought some stuff”. He brought the bags over to the table, and set them down there.

“Looks like you’re kicking me out of the bat-cave permanently”, I grunted. “How can you think that?”, Dean exclaimed. “You know I want you with me… I practically begged you to move in to the bunker permanently, while you were doing everything to get away from it”. “I wasn’t”, I whispered; a tear escaping my eye. “I just needed to… do something for myself. Have something of my own, that I earned, and worked for”.

“That why you took that job?”, he asked. I nodded. “How did it go?”. “It didn’t…”, I said. “Pete turned up. I couldn’t stay there”. “Pete”, Dean sneered. “Don’t know which one of those dicks I hate more – him or Metatron”. “You don’t know Pete. He’s just a guy”. “He’s a douche…”, he grunted. “The man listens to Nickelback!”. I couldn’t help but chuckle, and wiped my eyes. Dean stroked my cheek. “Yeah… I don’t know what I was thinking”, I whispered.

Dean’s eyes travelled to my arm, which was still sporting faint bruises from my encounter with my ex. He lifted the arm gingerly, and ran his fingers over the now mostly purplish mark. “I’m gonna rip his lungs out!”, he growled. “Please, just leave it alone”, I croaked. “It’s over”. “He hurt you!”, Dean roared. “No more than I would have hurt him, if Metatron hadn’t stepped in”, I said. Dean raised a brow at me. “If I see him again, he’s dead”, he proclaimed. I tugged at his jacket, and pulled myself closer to him; feeling his tense body relax against me. He lowered his face to me, and kissed me gently; stroking my temple. “I’m sorry”. “Stop saying that, and show me what you brought”, I said.

Dean went back over to the table, and began pulling things of the bags. “Bobby’s… your journal”, he muttered. “Gooferdust – remember to use it whenever you check in somewhere new. Iron knife, silver knife… A jar of dead man’s blood, and some syringes…”. “Everything a working girl needs in her purse”, I jested. “And my clothes?”. “Kevin packed it up”, Dean said. “Huh… you let the teenage prophet go through my underwear?”, I smirked. Dean paused for a second. “I didn’t think that through”, he grunted. “Oh, and this…”. He handed me a small drugstore bag. I looked inside. “You got my shade!”, I smiled, and pulled out the lipstick. He chuckled. “Of course I did”.

I picked up a sawn-off shotgun. “So, you’re good with me hunting all of a sudden?”, I asked. He took the gun from my hands, and demonstrated the use. “Sam already showed me”, I smirked. “Of course he did…”, Dean grunted. “No, I’m not. But it’s your choice… And you’re… actually kind of ok at it”. I pouted playfully. “Aww… thanks”. I put down the shotgun. “Really…”.

We stood for a moment. “I hate this…”, Dean said. “What, awkward silence?”, I muttered. “No… leaving you out here alone”. He frowned deeply. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to…”. “Bake you pies in my underwear, while you save the world?”, I smirked. Dean’s eyes glazed over for a moment, as he pictured the sight. He cleared his throat. “I mean, that would be fine by me”, he muttered. “But no. I wanted to train you. Make sure you were ready, before you finally realized you were crazy for staying with me, and ran off on bigger and better adventures” I smiled crookedly. “That was never gonna happen”, I said. “I’m not that smart”.

There was a knock at the door. “Housekeeping!”, a voice called out. I almost snarled. “What’s wrong?”, Dean asked. “Just the most dedicated maid I’ve ever met”, I sneered. I went to open the door, before the maid could let herself in. The woman’s eyes were as intense as always; if not more so. She attempted a smile, but it came out fake.

“It’s not a good time. I have company”, I said. “I’m just… making my rounds, miss”, the maid said. “I’d like to clean your room now, if you don’t mind”. Dean came up behind me. “She minds. It’s not a good time”. I saw a sheen of blue light in the maid’s eyes. It sent a jolt through me, and my heart skipped a beat. “You should go… now”, I croaked. “I’m afraid I can’t do that”, the maid said, her eyes locked sternly on Deans face. “I have to do my job. And he should not be here”. Dean pushed me behind him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, he grunted. The maid moved her eyes to me. I felt a rush of blood to my head, as the light in her eyes intensified, and an aura of intense power pulsed from her. Suddenly, I recognized her – I’d never met her before – but I somehow knew, if not her, then at least what she was. “Angel…”, I rasped.

Dean grabbed his own angel blade from his inner pocket. He broadened his stance; shielding me. “Leave!”, he growled. Behind him, I went for my own blade, which I’d kept under my pillow. I quietly walked over the wall behind the door, and cut into my hand; letting it bleed. “You think I want to be here? This place… even the name of it is an offence to me”, the maid sneered. “But the witness must be protected. For now”. I began drawing with my blood on the wall. “She doesn’t need your protection”, Dean snarled. “You think you can protect her? From us?”, the maid smiled. “If we wanted her dead, she would be! Leave this place, Dean Winchester. Or I will not answer for the consequences”.

“Dean…”, I muttered. He looked back at me, and the sigil I’d drawn on the wall. He nodded, and I touched it with my bleeding hand. The angel-maid screamed out, and with a blaze of light, she disappeared. “Get your things!”, Dean growled. We scrambled to gather my bags; and I followed him out to the Impala, throwing my belongings in the back seat.

Dean jumped in behind the wheel, and I got in next to him. “How did you know?”, he snarled. “What?”, I asked. “How did you know she was an angel?” I shook my head, and held on to the dashboard as Dean swerved around a corner, and sped down the road. “I… just did. It was like I recognized her”. “You met her before?”, Dean snapped. He sped over a bump, making me jostle in my seat. “No, Dean. Could you please slow down? You’re scaring me!”. Dean clenched his jaw. “You recognized her? As an angel…”. “Yeah…”, I croaked; afraid to meet his eyes. Dean took a deep breath. “She used that word… witness. You… witnessed with Metatron. Right?”. “That’s what he said”, I muttered. “Why are you angry with me?”. “I’m not”, he sighed. He pulled out his phone and dialed up a number, putting it on speaker.

“Hello?”, Kevin’s voice answered. “Kevin!”, Dean growled. “what was that thing you read on the angel tablet a while back… about a witness”. “Hi Kevin”, I said, chiding Dean with my eyes for his poor social skills on the phone. “Hi… Lulu. Hey. I’m good. It’s cool”. “Kevin, stop flirting, and tell us!”, Dean snarled. I frowned at him. “Right. Yeah… it was something along the lines of ‘with the fall a witness will be chosen; and it will come to know them all by their grace’… I couldn’t figure out if it was witness or keeper”, Kevin said. Deans eyes widened. “Keeper of what?”, I asked. “I… don’t know. I was focused on other parts of the tablet at that point”. “Right. Thanks Kev’… and keep this between us”, Dean said, and hung up.

A thousand thoughts went through my head. “I’m a witness”, I said. “The witness. You can see angels, even as they hide in their vessels”, Dean grunted. “I was afraid of this, when you told me about what that winged bag of dicks did. I just wasn’t sure”. “Is that why I can’t come back?”, I asked quietly. Dean clenched his jaw. “I can’t have you around Sam… It’s not safe”. “For whom? Me or Sam?”, I grunted. “I’m not sure… I did what I had to”, Dean breathed. “He’s my brother”. “What did you do…?”, I said; my voice trembling and deep. “I… can’t tell you. Please just trust that it’s for the best if you stay away”.

I swallowed hard. “So what happens now? Are we… over?”. His eyes widened, and he grabbed my hand. “No! No, Lou… I just need… we need time for Sam to heal. Completely”, he said. Dean squeezed my hand tightly. “I swear I’ll tell you everything, when the time is right”, he declared. “I’m bringing you to a place I know. It’s a cabin. Warded”. “Ok…”, I croaked. He looked at me, trying for softness. “It’ll be ok”. He didn’t sound convinced; and his face was tense as he dialed another number on his phone. “Sam… Lulu’s in a bit deep here. I’m gonna need to stick around for another day or so… No, don’t worry, we’ll be fine… Yeah, ok. See you in Colorado”. I frowned at him again. “Why are you lying to your brother?”, I grunted. “He can’t see you right now. And you can’t see him. It’s how it has to be”. “He’s my friend”, I said bellow my breath. “Then you want him safe. Just go with me on this”, Dean demanded.

We drove for a good 4 hours, before I noticed Dean struggling. He was frowning and an angry pout formed on his lips. “You’re tired”, I said. “We should pull over”. “No”, he shook his head. “We need to get to Montana as soon as we can”. He sighed, and looked at me from the corner of his eyes. “Screw it. Can you drive for a while?” My jaw dropped. “I’m… yeah. Of course”.

Dean halted at the next gas-station we could find, and filled up the car. I got out of the car as he came back outside from the shop. He held up the keys with a worried expression. “She’s strong… but be gentle with her. Please?”. I smiled softly, and kissed his cheek. “I’ll treat her like my own”. “Yeah, I saw your Ford those years back. Pardon me for not taking that as a good omen”. He put the keys in my hand, and held them there. “Dean?”, I said. “Yeah?”, he muttered. “You’re gonna have to let go”, I smiled. He almost winced as his fingers left my hand.

I got behind the wheel, and Dean got in to sit next to me. “Don’t change my presets”, he grunted. “Go to sleep”, I said. “I got it”. I started up the Impala, and felt her purr under my touch. “Hi, baby. I’m back”, I smirked. Dean cursed under his breath.

---

We took turns driving; pulling over a few times to gas up; and at least three times for Dean to yell at me for either driving too fast, or for passing other cars too closely. All three times ended with me threatening to hitchhike the rest of the way; and Dean apologizing by pressing his lips to mine. In the end we made it to a cabin in Whitefish, Montana, the day after.

“This is Rufus’ old cabin”, Dean said, as he carried my bags in for me. “You’ll be safe here. Use it as headquarters if you want. I need you to stay away from anything angelic or demonic from here on out… If you insist on hunting, stick with ghosts; easy ones…”. He sent me a look. “Please”.

He put his arms around me. He seemed weaker than usual; not just tired, but mentally drained. “What’s wrong?”, I whispered; leaning my head against his shoulder. “Talk to me”. Dean shook his head. “I can’t… I want to, believe me”. “You don’t trust me?”, I croaked. “With my life, and my car…”, he said poignantly; putting his hand on my cheek. I narrowed my eyes at him. “But…?”. “You can’t be around Sam right now. You just can’t. Not until I know for sure that it’s safe… Or Sam is ok again”. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, I grunted. “You’re not making sense. What happened with him back there?”. Dean ran his hand over his face. “I know it’s… confusing. But he’s in real danger”. I grabbed a hold of his jacket; clenching it in my fist. “How is this gonna work?”, I asked. “Are you going to run all over the country with your sick brother; and whenever you have a spare 24 hours, I can see you?”. He sighed. “I don’t have that much time… I have to get to Colorado”.

I sighed and put my hand behind his head, to avoid him pulling away: and kissed him deeply. I needed him as much as I knew he needed me. “Just stay a little while”, I breathed.

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester fic #dean x oc #sam winchester #Castiel #supernatural fic #supernatural

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bamon4bamily · 5 years

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TVD 9x05 (part 3 of 3) Enjoy! =)

Cut back to the October 31st, 1886, flashback scene – New Jersey State Lunatic Asylum.

DOCTOR: (Infuriated) What do you mean the patient is gone?!!

NURSE: I went to get more medication and when I returned, she was gone. Doctor, I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened, she was fully restrained and sedated…

DOCTOR: You, incompetent fool! Do you realize what you just allowed to be released into this world?!! Leave, immediately!

NURSE: Doctor, please, I…

DOCTOR: Are you also incapable of comprehending words? I said, leave! (Nurse leaves, Doctor 2 enters).

DOCTOR 2: Doctor, what on earth is going on?

DOCTOR: We have a serious problem…

Cut to, present-day, October 31st – Freaky old mansion. Darius and a group of hooded people are in the backyard woods, doing some weird ritualistic ceremony. As the full moon rises, they gather around a Hecate’s wheel symbol and chant.

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CHANTS:

Nos stare in lumine lunae.

Sanctifica eve est, ille est aditus.

Electus ortu tenebris est virtus.

Et infirmi erunt: et cum exarserit post ortum iluminati.

Cut to – The Mayor’s House. Edward is in the dining room, having dinner by himself. The black box he had received earlier is placed in front of his plate; the balloon, tied to the chair in front of him. He looks out of himself… staring into nothing.

ANTHONY: Sir, your guests will be arriving soon; shouldn’t you start getting ready?

EDWARD: (Dazing at nothingness) Yes… probably…

ANTHONY: Sir, if I may say… I know this night brings up memories, but you must allow yourself to let that go. You are a good man; you deserve to be happy, find some peace.

EDWARD: After everything that I have done, do you honestly believe that?

ANTHONY: With all my heart. I know you, Sir; I have seen your dark and your light.

EDWARD: You have probably seen much more than what you bargained for.

ANTHONY: At my age, Sir, I have seen much worse, trust me.

EDWARD: Got to love your sense of humor. I will never understand why genetics didn’t make you my father.

ANTHONY: Excuse me for saying this, but I think I am the only father figure you have ever known.

EDWARD: That is very true… And, I want you to know, that whatever happens, I will forever be thankful for having you in my life. After my mother, you are the only person that has made my life have any sort of meaning.

ANTHONY: Sir, don’t say that. I’m grateful for your kind words but with or without me, and dare I say, with or without her, your life has meaning. You just need to see beyond those smoking mirrors that cloud your mind, believe in yourself.

EDWARD: Always so observant….

ANTHONY: So much that I’m going to step out of my place and ask, have you told the Sheriff?

EDWARD: Oh, will you look at the time! I need to go get ready before my guests arrive. (Takes the black box and leaves, a saddened look on Anthony’s face).

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Cut to - The Salvatore house, the gang is back from trick or treating; they are having a drink before heading out to Klaus’s.

ALARIC: Well, gang, the time has come… everyone ready to do this?

RADKA: As ready as we will ever be; so, (puts her cup up for a toast) I propose a toast: to friendship, family and love, the most important things in life!

EVERYONE: Cheers! (They toast, hug, share a laugh or two).

CAROLINE: (Chugs a shot) Okay, Alaric and I need to go tuck the girls in; we’ll be back in a sec. (They go upstairs).

As they start getting ready to leave, Damon takes Bonnie outside.

BONNIE: Damon, what’s going on? Don’t tell me you changed your mind about the costume!

DAMON: No matter how many times I try, I don’t seem to get this right, so I’m just going to say it…

BONNIE: Say what?

DAMON: 73,0408...

BONNIE: (Confused) Damon, that makes no sense, are you honestly drunk right now?

DAMON: That’s the number of days I’ve been on this earth, give or take. And, out of those, 3650 have been the best ones… because you have been a part of them...

BONNIE: Damon…

DAMON: It took me multiple lifetimes to realize what the best things in life are truly about… and that was thanks to you, to this unlikely friendship, which is, beyond a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to me. Even when I didn’t know it, and, for the life of me, I still can’t believe I was so blind…

BONNIE: Damon, please, don’t…

DAMON:

Day 1:That Halloween party, when I tried to grab your amulet… I didn’t realize what it meant at the time, psycho mode an all, but it was the first time in my life that I had ever felt an instant connection, an unexplainable draw towards someone…

Day 2: When I went looking for you at your school, leaned into you and told you I was only trying to protect you… granted it was not the best approach, I know, but I felt it, the tension, the chemistry...

Day 3: The 60’s decade dance… (looking into her eyes) God those eyes… I could have danced, and stared at them all night…

Day 4: When I finally found you on that creep island… that hug spoke for itself, but swear I had never felt such relief…

Day 5: There were probably about a million people you would have rather been with… how lucky was I to be the one?

The 122 days back in 94. I think those were one of the best ones... Just you, me, vampcakes, crossword puzzles, plaid shirts, The Bodyguard, Monopoly, Tetris, Miss. Cuddles, bourbon, Boyz II Men...

.. and, well, Kai, but...

BONNIE: (In a cold and harsh tone) Damon, stop! (Damon stops cold in his tracks, then Bonnie transitions into a teasing tone) You aren’t really gonna go on for 3645 more days, are you? We’ll be here forever…

DAMON: However long it takes…

(Softly, places his hands on her cheeks and stares deep into her eyes) You are my person, Bon-Bon… You make me laugh, so much that I actually cry! You make me think, own up to my decisions, don’t take my crap, and boy, do I have some crap! When I’m with you, I feel at home... I am home... you are my home, Bon. You are the reason I know what it means to be alive... the reason I know what it means to love...And, well...I just can’t fight this feeling anymore... (Damon takes out his phone, puts on a song, and holds the phone above his head, in reference to the famous John Cusak scene. Bonnie can’t help but crack up).

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BONNIE: You’re crazy...

DAMON: Absolutely bunkers, one flew over cuckoo's nest, for you... I love you, Bonnie Sheila Bennett and all I want to do is to keep loving you, every second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year of my life… and afterlife… (slowly leans in for a kiss… ).

CAROLINE: (Caroline walks outside, unaware of the situation). Hey guys, the girls are tucked in; we are ready to… (she realizes the moment she has, once again, interrupted) Oh my god!!! I’m so sorry!! Leaving now! (Vamps out).

DAMON: I swear, I could kill Goldie Locks, right about now!!!

BONNIE: (Laughs) Hey...come here (pulls him in for a kiss).

Caroline vamps her way back into the living room, pulls Stefan aside.

CAROLINE: Oh my god, Stefan, you won’t believe what is happening right now! Granted I almost sabotaged the moment, once again, but at last!

STEFAN: Damon and Bonnie?

CAROLINE: You know it!

STEFAN: Well, it was about time…

CAROLINE: Right!?

KATHERINE: (Who has sneaked in on their conversation) Please, I called it from a mile away! But, hey, good for them! I mean, let’s be honest, we all knew the Elena thing was rooted on Damon’s fixation over me… I mean, their relationship was even more toxic than ours! But I must admit, I’m actually happy for him, despite my everlasting loath, it’s somewhat nice to see him make the right choice, for once.

CAROLINE: Aw, hello, creeper!? Did we ask for your opinion?

KATHERINE: What about bygones?

CAROLINE: One day at a time… (Damon and Bonnie come back inside)

KATHERINE: So, are you two love birds ready to go? (They all look at them with a smirk on their faces).

Cut to – The Mikaelson mansion. Danae comes running through the front door. Klaus, looking pissed, is sitting on the piano bench, playing random keynotes.

DANAE: Hello dear (kisses him on the cheek), I’m sorry I’m so late; I had one of my migraines and needed to compose myself before heading back. (Looks around) Good, no one is here yet. Love, what’s with the face? I told you I was sorry …

KLAUS: Just get ready, they will be arriving any time now.

DANAE: Don’t be mad, I told you I’d be here… and I’m here… better late than never.

KLAUS: I’m just a bit on edge, nothing personal.

DANAE: Don’t be, we have nothing to worry about. With my migraine came a vision, and I can assure you, we are going to be fine, I promise (hugs him). Now, let me go get changed, I’ll be down in a few. (Doorbell rings, Klaus opens the door).

KLAUS: (Looks at Damon, cracks up). Don’t you look lovely!

DAMON: Oh, shut up! (Pushes him aside, walks inside).

KLAUS: Now, you (referring to Bonnie)... I think you just stole my soul…

BONNIE: As if you had one… (pushes him aside, walks inside)

KLAUS: Ouch, Bonnie, that hurt. So, where are the others?

BONNIE: They were right behind us, they should be here soon.

KLAUS: (They settle down in the living room). Can I offer you a drink?

DAMON: Yes, two bourbons, on the rocks.

KLAUS: (Doorbell rings again) Well, you are going to have to fetch it yourself (signals to the bar, then goes to open the front door).

STRANGER: Is Tamara here?

KLAUS: Sorry, love, wrong house. (Shuts the door, goes back to the living room)

BONNIE: Who was it?

KLAUS: Drunken teen… Anyway, while we wait for the others, I must ask one last time (to Bonnie) are you sure you are ready to do this, love? We can call it quits, come up with another plan…

BONNIE: Oh, I’m ready. (With sarcasm) Question is, are you?

KLAUS: Feisty, I love it (gives her a smirk) …

DAMON: Hey, down boy…

KLAUS: Oh, relax Damon, always so protective of your precious Bon-Bon. (Danae comes down and joins them). Love, you look breathtaking (kisses her on the cheek)…

DANAE: Thank you, dear, this was all five minutes could do for me. (Turns to Bonnie) Hello Bonnie, you are looking ravishing…

BONNIE: Thank you, (to herself) I guess?

DANAE: (Turns to Damon) You, on the order hand…

DAMON: Yep, I know. (Doorbell rings).

BONINE: That must be Caroline and Alaric…

DANAE: I’ll get it (goes to open the door). Caroline, (referring to her costume) I must say, I expected more from you…

CAROLINE: Don’t even get me started… (walks in).

DANAE: Alaric, Radka, love the costumes… where is Sergei?

ALARIC: He stayed at the mansion with Stefan, in case he needs back up.

DANAE: Good call; come on in, everyone is in the living room. (As she is about to shut the door)

KATHERINE: Hey, wait for me (walking clumsy, trying not to stumble on her dress again).

(Everyone gathers in the living room)

ALARIC: Tyler, Matt, Lexie and Khuyana should be here soon; in the meantime, should we go through the plan one last time?

KLAUS: I think we have done that more than enough; let’s just enjoy our drinks while we wait.

Cut to - The Salvatore mansion, Elena and Sam ring the bell; Stefan opens the door.

ELENA: (Stares at Stefan in disbelief and tear eyed, she was not expecting to be so affected by seeing him) Stefan… (tears dripping down her face) Oh, my god… (hugs him real tight and for quite some time).

STEFAN: (Also tear eyed) Elena… (bit of an awkward moment with Sam just standing there; after a couple of minutes they finally stop hugging).

SAM: So, you are the famous Stefan? Great to finally meet you, I’m Sam (they shake hands).

STEFAN: Nice to meet you too, come on in.

ELENA: (As she walks inside and realizes no one is there) Where is everyone?

STEFAN: Guessing Caroline and Bonnie didn’t put you up to date?

ELENA: About?

STEFAN: Oh god, let me offer you guys a drink first, and I’ll explain. (As he is preparing the drinks).

ELENA: Stefan, what’s going on?

STEFAN: (Nervously) Lemons, we need lemons… lemons, yes, in the kitchen... (rushes out).

SAM: Well, this is really getting awkward…

ELENA: Something is going on... (gets her phone out, calls Caroline, goes to voice message) Caroline Elizabeth Forbes, what the hell is going on! (Calls Bonnie but it also goes to voice message) Bonnie Sheila Bennett, you better tell me what is happening!!! (To Sam) I can’t believe they’d leave me out of the loop like this!

SAM: Maybe they are just looking out for you…

ELENA: I don’t need to be looked for; I can handle myself.

SAM: I know you can, but I think they just wanted to respect your wishes of not being involved with the crazy supernatural things anymore…

ELENA: That’s no excuse… (gets up, walks to the kitchen, where Stefan is desperately trying to reach Caroline on her phone).

STEFAN: (Leaving a voice message) Care, I think you forgot one tiny little detail in your master plan... Elena! (Hangs up).

ELENA: Stefan, tell me what is going on?

STEFAN: Fine; let’s go back to the living room, I’ll tell you everything I know.

ELENA: (As Stefan is walking out) Wait, what about the lemons?

Cut to – The Mayor’s house. Edward is greeting his guests as they arrive.

EDWARD: Welcome everyone... (To a mysterious looking lady, wearing some very peculiar gloves) Madame (kisses her hand), always a pleasure.

MADAME: Thank you, my dear (winks at him; walks inside).

EDWARD: (Greets her companion) Mr. Northcott (shakes his hand), happy you made it. Please, come in…. (points to the lounge are) indulge.

Cut back to the Mikaelson mansion.

KLAUS: I think it’s safe to say that Donovan is a no show; why am I not surprised.

KHUYANA: (Rolls her eyes at him) I’m sorry you guys, he promised he would be here.

ALARIC: Well, we can’t wait anymore, it’s almost midnight, we need to take our places.

BONNIE: We really do. (To Danae) Let’s go. (As they are about to head upstairs…)

DAMON: Wait… (pulls Bonnie towards him, kisses her, and whispers in her ear) I love you, don’t you ever forget that. Please, be safe.

BONNIE: (Whispers back) I will… we got this… we are Batman and Robin, we kick ass! (Damon smirks) Oh, and just in case it wasn’t clear before, I love you too (kisses him).

KLAUS: (Snarky) Oh, lovely...

Cut back to – Creepy old mansion, in what looks to be an underground bunker lab. Darius is outside a heavily sealed and guarded door, with some weird-ass Scientestis that are injecting him with something; Matt, walks in.

DARIUS: Sheriff (with sarcasm), glad to know you can figure out coordinates. You actually made it...

MATT: I didn’t have much of a choice.

DARIUS: Oh, come on, you know better than anyone that there is always a choice… (Matt hands him the key that had been sent to him before). Oh no, there is a reason why you are here; you are the only one that can access it.

MATT: And why is that?

DARIUS: I only know the how not the why… (hands him the chess piece that had been sent to him before by Edward. Matt turns the chess piece around; a code and the letter “L” are engraved on the bottom).

MATT: (Knowing Edward had been sent that same chess piece just a few hours ago) Wait… how?

DARIUS: Oh Sheriff, you truly underestimate my intelligence; you do know I am a certified genius, right? Edward might have more pull, you know how “the elite” are, but I am much smarter than he is. You really should have better instincts when choosing your alliances… (Darius looks at the clock). One minute till midnight…Time to play (winks).

The clock strikes midnight… the witching hour has begun.

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Bonnie shuts her eyes and releases her psychic block. Danae is holding her hand, chanting. Suddenly, an overwhelming energy blast emanates from Bonnie…

Then, a total blackout, absolute silence. An uncanny feeling of calmness, not fitting with the expected scenario. Seems like the moment, and everyone in it has been suspended in time. After a few minutes, Bonnie opens her eyes, she looks around. The place seems familiar, but something is off… Why is she alone? Why can’t she remember where she is, or why she is even there? The darkness, the smell of ashes, the silence, the debris… something horrible must have happened here… but what? And why was she there? Bonnie gets up slowly, the place in utter devastation. She walks, for miles and miles amongst ruins and debris… no movement, no sound, no light, no life…

Why did this place feel so familiar to her? As she continues to walk, trying to remember anything that can help her figure out why she is there, and how she can get out, she stumbles upon another familiar sighting… an old mansion, which strangely, still stands intact. Maybe not the wisest decision, but she had to check it out, it was as if something was pulling her in. She opens the door, walks inside…

How could this be possible? Where did all these people come from? That music, she has heard it before… How could this place have survived? She takes a glimpse of herself in a nearby mirror… How? She looks ravishing, no doubt, but when did she change into that that attire?

A man approaches her, she knows him, so much in fact, that she is pretty sure she is in love with him. The man grabs her hand, kisses it with delicate caress…

DARIUS: My love, I’ve been expecting you…

BONNIE: I know… (winks, then pulls him in for a passionate kiss).

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TVD 9x06 coming next! =)

Sorry, it took me so long to update, has been quite crazy, but at last! =)

TVD Season 9 Fanfic, hope you keep stopping by, reading and enjoying! =)

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diebiest · 4 years

Video

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E-Bass: Carsten Fänger (D)

Schlagzeug und Worte: Tamara Kapp (LUX)

Diad - Denk ich an dich

Live aufgenommen im Bunker/Rotlichtmilieu Stuttgart

Hardware: Yamaha AW16G

#Stuttgart #underground #video #music video #post punk #proto-punk #diy #bass and drum #bass und schlagzeug #drummer girl #drama #hard pop

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hippychick006 · 6 years

Text

Is anybody liking Maggie?

I know I haven’t liked her from the get go and if I’m going to be honest, she isn’t improving on me at all.

The thing is, I actually want to like Maggie; she seems like she could be someone that might have grown on me if they had treated her character properly. But any female character that’s around for longer than 5 minutes these days, seems to be turned very quickly into this automatic girl power badass!hunter. And that, for me at least, is fucking insulting, both for women viewers and for Sam and Dean (who really at this point, must be the dumbest hunters ever born; that it took years of research and training for them to even be allowed into the field, let alone be going on solo hunts or leading a group of hunters. Boys are just stupid I guess.) Anyway, I digress...

Let’s look at Maggie’s journey and why I’m so pissed:

End of last season - seemed to be very timid and scared, definitely doesn’t appear to have any hunting skills or experience in fighting.

Start of this season (so a few weeks time lapse, based on how long Dean’s been missing). It’s clear from the dialogue that happens that she’s not a hunter, but she is shown to be patching up the hunters - and you know what, I’ll give them this. I’m going to go along with it and assume Maggie has been trained as a healer of some sort in the AU world. Of course, in order for me to bond with her as a character, it would have been better for me to see this, like possibly we see her fixing injured people up at the camp and she explains that she was training to be a healer, but vampires took out her entire community, and she barely got away and her poor dog... (prime single man tear moment) ... you know, that pesky thing called back story that makes me decide whether I care or not about a character. Anyway, moving on... Sam takes her on the hunt, as a hunter... and I’m just... why show? [Rushes to reassure Sam: I don’t blame you dear, it’s the bad writers, go back to looking pretty, your ‘there will be no new king of hell’ scene is coming up and that will distract us I’m sure]

A week or so on from this (let’s be generous and say a month) Maggie is not only a hunter, but she’s going on a solo hunt!

Several weeks on from there (let’s be really generous and say three months) - Maggie is leading a group of hunters. I can’t even with this nonsense. Sam didn’t lead a group of hunters until Season 11!

Whispers: As an aside, is it any wonder they lack the basic hunting skills to know they should have checked Tiger(?) wasn’t a monster, before all going gung ho back to the bunker, and that reminds me, who goes inside a building to defend it in the first place? The bunker is the last point of defence, there should have been at least one more point of defence established before the bunker, but what do I know, I’m not an instant hunter. Anyway, moving on...

During all this time (lol), that Maggie was becoming the best hunter to ever hunt, poor nephilim Jack (who lost his powers at the same time as Maggie came through the portal, so they should in theory be at the same point of training, but actually if I was going to nit pick, Jack should be ahead, because he already had been training with the Winchesters for several months by this point). Anyway, moving on... Poor Jack is still way back at the Hunter In Training stage, because seriously, boys are just dumb.

You are better than this show! Stop giving us two dimensional, reader insert, instant hunter characters, like the Wayward lot (which Maggie appears to be an escapee from - as is Charlie), and give us rich, believable characters like Ruby, Abaddon, Ellen, Jody, Rowena, Billie, Amara, Eileen, Alisha, Tamara, even Mary (even though I’m not a fan of the character, she is badass). It’s clear you are more than capable, you’re just choosing not to because you’re writing for the dumb part of the audience you interact with on social media.

Cries into the void.

#spn critical #anti maggie #but not really #I'm just anti bad writing #anti maggie seems to be popular but is this Walking Dead maggie or ours?

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mona-stay · 7 years

Photo

Back Home - Peter Hale (requested)

Request by anonymous on Tumblr Prompt y/n McCall is back in beacon hills to help her brother Pairing Peter hale x reader Warnings swearing Story

You left beacon hills when your mother and father split up. You went with your dad to New York while Scott stayed in beacon hills with your mother. You visited during holidays but not as much as you would have liked.

You had come back home after hearing your mother was in the hospital after the shooting at the house. During the trip home you had been stopped and your father arrested.

Looking up at your family home your stomach twisted at the sight of the bordered up windows, bullet holes in the door. you went to use your key but the was another padlock added to the busted door. you sneaked round the back like you used too as a kid breaking into the back door. stepping into the kitchen you closed the door feeling a hand on your shoulder.

Grabbing the mystery hand twisting it hard. you flipped the heavy aslant over pulling a knife out if your belt holding it to the dark haired mans neck. "y/n no stop he's a friend" your brothers best friend shouted. running in the kitchen, followed by another man. "stiles" you say confused still pinning the guy down. "y/n what are you doing here" he asked as you let the man up. "well its my house I really don't think I need a reason but you could tell me what your doing here and who these are" you snap back at stiles. " Y/n this is Derek and peter hale, friends of mine and Scott's" stiles says. Derek the man you had thrown to the floor stirred at you his eyes still frowning you gave a small apologetic smile. The other man Peter looked at you with a flirtatious smirk, his eyes looked you up and down. You blushed before sending him a wink.

"well my mum has been shot, dad his locked up in beacon hills jail and the is half a town armed to the eyeballs who want my brother dead! Where did you think I was gonna be? I'm here to help" you say. Stiles nods realising how bad things had become now you listed it. "and where it's my twin brother?" you asked your hands on your hips. "behind you" Scott sad making you spin hugging him tight.

After a catch up and an update on how your mother was doing Scott had tried to get you to leave town but it was short lived he knew stubborn how you can be. Soon a call came from Gerard Argent telling Scott half of his friends was in danger.

***

peter watched the new girl in awe he hadn't seen anyone get the better of Derek in a long time, not like that anyway. he couldn't help but laugh when she put stiles in his place. most of he couldn't help notice how incredibly beautiful she was. The way she spoke to the pack with no fear was a turn on to peter. "no, no way I'm I staying here out the way Scott no!" she called making Peter smile. He watched the argument play out between brother and sister Scott not winning. "if they find out your my twin sister and back home they will come after you y/n" the alpha shouted back flashing his eyes in anger, only making the y/h/c girl laugh. "don't you see the fact they don't know who I am is an advantage to us" she a answered back. Scott groaned looked round for Derek's opinion "what do you think?" Derek shrugged his shoulders "she's your sister mate" he answered. Stiles shook his head agreeing with Scott she should leave town and stay out the fight.

"well I think she should join our fight, she clearly wants to and is going to join of you agree to it or not Scott, and besides she did put Derek in his ass, none of us, Well expect for me can do that!" Peter said smugly not taking his eyes of the you.

After a lot of decisions the plans were made. Scott, stiles, Derek and Lydia was going to the school to stop the Anuk-Ite. Theo and Malia was going to help Liam, Mason and Cory. Leaving you and Peter to go and save Jackson. "I'll go with him" you say pointing at Peter to everyone's surprise, "no, why would you want to go with him" Scott said "yes I am because he's the only one who wants me here!" you argue back as Peter folded his arms smugly.

You had a plan and being human unknown to the hunters as Scott's twin sister, you thought you had the best chance of getting in there armoury. Finally Scott agreed then threatened Scott if he let anything happen to you he'd kill him.

In the car Peter faced the road but watched you out the corner of his eyes. You was messing around in your bag taking out rope and needles filled with purple fluid. "So this plan of yours to get us in" Peter started slowly now a little worried not knowing what you had in mind. "I'm I going to like it and is going to get me killed?" he asked.

You smirked at him "will you like it" you tilled your head like you was thinking "probably not! Get you killed not unless you do as I say and pull of some good acting" you teased lightly laughing. Peter pulled up a little away from the bunker, "so are you going to tell me what were doing?" he said not taking his eyes of the syringe. "this is water, and a purple colouring. I'm going to make them think it's diluted wolfsbane and your my victim. I'm the girl who captured Peter Hale!" you smile at him, making him laugh more. "now put these in we don't have much time" throwing him a set if handcuffs.

Peter took them "I can think of another way to use these" he flirted doing as he was told slipping them on both wrists. "You pull this off and maybe we can talk about it later" you winked as you walked to the door banging on it "I'm starting to think this is a bad idea" he whispered as you covered his face with a hood. "shut up and stick to the plan" you say as the small flap on the door opens.

You see half a man's face looking at you, "what do you want" the voice on the other side of the door shouted. "I'm here to see Tamara Monroe" you said boldly. "she's not here right now come back" the voice said again shutting the hatch. You banged on the door again it opened "look I said" the man started but you pushed open the door. "I don't think you understand me. I'm here to see Monroe because I have Peter Hale alive" you say pulling the hood from his head.

Peter roared flashing his fangs and eyes. You took a needle out of your pocket, stabbing Peter in the neck with it. He fell against you almost passing out, you was impressed the plan was working. The man let you in helping carry Peter, we took him to a room toeing him to an electric fence. looking round the room not seeing Jackson, "I'll see what I can find out and distract him, I want to carefully look for Jackson if you don't meet in ten minutes" you whisper knowing only Peter would hear me.

You followed the man who told you his name was Kevin, and met up with another 3 guys. You all went into a little room with a tiny kitchen area and big seats it looked like a break room. It had been 10 minutes and Peter hadn't gave you a sign he'd found Jackson. "is the a toilet round here I can use?" you asked. They all looked at each other unsure before pointing you in to the bathroom.

***

Peter waited to hear you get far enough away to snap his cuffs. He listened for Jackson's heartbeat, following the sound. He found Jackson tied to an electric fence, he new it was on he could hear the low hum coming from it.

Jackson looked weak, but when he saw Peter coming toward him his eyes went wide shaking and mumbling under the duct tape over his mouth. What Peter didn't see was a guard behind the door lining it with mountain ash.

Peter pulled the duct tape from Jackson's lips but it was too late for Jackson to say behind you. The man hit Peter in the ribs with an electric kosh sending him to the floor.

***

You waited a few minutes before pulling out a sleeping fog grenade from your handbag and tossing it into the room. You could hear the men inside running to the door but the smoke was too powerful you heard the thumps of the unconscious bodies hitting the floor.

You ran to the room you had left Peter in, seeing it empty only your handcuffs remained on the floor. You spin looking round thinking of where he and Jackson could be. You rounded at corner hearing screams come from Peter and you guessed Jackson. Inside the was a man turning the dial to the fence Peter was chained to. Rolling your eyes not even questioning how he'd be caught, you sneak into the room.

Jackson's eyes widened when he saw you, putting a finger to your lips shushing him. Looking at a shelf next to you, you see a rifle picking it up you took a few steps then hit the guard over the head with the butt of the gun.

Jackson smirked "y/n McCall, aren't you a sight for saw eyes" You turned off the power off "it's been to long Whittemore" you say hugging him. Peter smiled at you, "and to think your brother doubted you" he said impressed still looking at the man on the floor. "well I did say I can handle myself" you playful teased back untying his hands "more then handle that was badass" Peter says using his free hand to move a fallen piece of your hair.

"not to interrupt your flirting but can we find Ethan now" Jackson asked. You and Peter looked at each other with a smirk heading out the door with Jackson. Had you really been that obvious you liked the older man, You all headed down the corridors looking in different rooms for him. Jackson found him tied up and weak, you watched as he pulled off the chains. Ethan and Jackson were talking about Jackson having a tail searing a kisses once Ethan was on his feet.

"can we hurry up and get out of here now" you said worrying you'd been there way too long. You and Peter was the first out the door when an alarm sounded, slammed the door automatically shut with Jackson and Ethan still inside. You banged on the door calling their names when Peter grabbed you dragging you into another room as the corridor started to fill with smoke.

Peter took his jacket off covering the gap under the door with it, leaning against the wall breathless. His attention quickly went to y/n when he saw you freaking out muttering to yourself. "this is my fault, where all gonna die because of me" Peter sensed the anxiety, heart your heart beat change and now your hands shake in fear. He got up holding your hands in his bringing them to his chest. "look at me y/n" peter said boldly. "this is not your fault"

You tried to pull your hands away but he was too strong. "if I had listened to Scott we wouldn't be here, it's my plan that got us trapped and most likely get us killed" your voice breaking nearly the end as you held back the tears. Peter held both your hands in one of his as other cupped your face lifting it so he could look you in the eyes. "y/n, no, one is getting killed. Jackson and Ethan are still alive I can hear them banging trying to open their door" you smiled knowing they was okay. "your plan was working if anyone is to blame its me for getting caught."

You wished you could believe him, you really did but panic had already set in and you struggled to breathe. You hadn't had a panic attack in years but could already feel the signs. Peter noticed to he tried calming you "y/n look at me it's going to be okay just breath" he said but you pushed past him towards the door wheezing and panting.

Peter stood blocking the door knowing of you opened the door the wolfs bane smoke would weaken or possibly kill him. He needed to do something anything to help you to breathe and stop your panic attack. He grabbed your cheeks in his hand crashing his lips to yours, in the suddenness of his actions you kissed him back almost forgetting moments ago you couldn't breathe. Peter pulled his head back looking at you "wh.. What was that" you say touching your lip.

Peter smiled "I was told it worked for my friends when stiles had a panic attack so I thought I'd try it" he smirked. "thanks" you whispered out still looking at Peter's lips close to yours, his breath fanning your face making you want to lean in and kiss him again.

A bang from outside the room made you both break part looking at each other worried. Peter put his ear to the door "it's Jackson still trying to get out" he said talking about the banging noise. He turned round when he heard a ripping sound, you had torn the bottom of your top making a mask to cover your mouth and nose. Peter looked at you confused rising an eyebrow "I'm getting us out of here" you told him, your confidence back. "I'm human the smoke won't affect me like you, I'm gonna find a way to clear the corridor and get us out of this place" you said with your hand on the door handle. Before Peter could do say anything you left the room.

You passed the room Jackson and Ethan was trapped in telling them you was finding a way out. After a looking round for a while you found a room with lots of computer screens in. You looked at them seeing Jackson and Ethan and the door you knew Peter was behind. The 4 men you had knocked out with a grenade where all still on the floor. You a man walking down a hallway you tried to work out where he was when you heard him outside the door. You hid in the room watching as he ran in coughing from the smoke.

He put his gun on the desk and went straight to a cupboard getting a gas mask from it. You stood from you hiding place you grabbed the gun making him look at you with his hands up. "I need that mask for me and some friends so drop it" you order him. After he puts it down to tell him to go to the desk throwing him a set of hand cuffs making him cuff himself to the bolted down desk.

Once you felt he couldn't break free you grabbed the mask from the floor putting the tank on your back. Looking in the cabinet getting 3 more out. The was heavier than you thought they would be dragging them along the floor. You went to peter first hanging him one. "you truly are amazing" he said when you walked in the door "when this is all over I'm taking you out" he said putting the tank on his back like you had.

You stepped outside Peter kicked in the door trapping Jackson and Ethan, you handed them both a mask each as you started to leave. The 4 men in the break like room had woken and came out as you turned the corner. Jackson and Ethan ran at them Jackson using his kanima venom to paralysed them as you and Peter ran past them.

The drive back to your house was quite Jackson and Ethan talking low to each other, you and Peter stealing small glances. Inside you all told Scott and the rest of the group what had happened and heard how the rest of the group defeated the Anuk-Ite. You could feel Peter's eyes on you the whole time, thankful he hadn't told anyone about your mini panic attack back in the armoury. "well seeing as no one is in danger I'm n going to visit mum" you told Scott. Peter followed you out "so what we said back there I really do wanna take you out y/n, I like you and need to get to know you more" he said his cheeks a little flushed "also you did make a promise about doing something more fun with handcuffs" he flirted. You took a step closer "good because I think I'm starting to like you to" you said putting your hands on his chest "Its a date". He held you with one hand on your lower back and the other on your neck bring you in closer. When Peter kissed you it wasn't like the one earlier this was more passionate lustful and loving. When you broke apart Peter offered to drive you to the hospital, you looked up at the house then to peter more then happy to be back home.

#Peter Hale #peter hale imagine #peter hale x reader #peter hale fluff #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagine #derek hale #Scott McCall #Jackson Whittemore #ethan #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #chris argent #liam dunbar #request #hale

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hurt-care · 7 years

Text

Shelter

This story was inspired by a prompt on Tumblr requesting a historic fic about a cold spreading through a home-front workplace during WWII. I ended up deciding to focus on just two young workers and specifically on air raid wardens, who were in charge of securing the streets during the blackouts in London when Britain was being bombed by the Nazis. I was also very inspired by this photo of a woman who was sick while in an air-raid shelter along with images of the shelters in the subway platforms.

Shelter

By Dusty15 --

The ladies' boarding home where Miss Rowena Brier lived at 33A Easton Street was normally a rather cheerful and nice place to live. As with any place housing twelve young ladies, it was occasionally prone to waves of gossip and tearful arguments over young men and whispers of scandal, but most of the time it remained civil and sisterly. And with the war on, there was really no time for gossip. Every young woman in the house was employed by his Majesty's government in service to the Crown.

January in London was, as always, dismal and grey and frightfully cold. The boarding house echoed with the sounds of sniffles and the persistent coughs that came from months of damp and dust-filled air from the bombs and the winter drizzle that seemed to never end.

Though Rowena could be called to service in her job as an Air Raid warden, she'd miraculously been granted Sunday as her day off and it could not have come at a better time. That was because she ended up spending her Sunday in bed, taken ill with a stuffy head and chest.

“Can I bring you back anything?” her roommate, Tamara, asked as she applied her lipstick at the vanity in preparation for Sunday tea downstairs.

“A cup of tea and a biscuit would be swell,” Rowena replied gratefully. “The tea Mrs. Burnside makes always tastes better than the stuff we make up here with the hotplate.”

“Will do, love,” Tamara confirmed, shutting her compact with a 'snap!'.

“Take one of our teacups down, won't you?” Rowena asked. “The last thing she will allow is one of her good china cups disappearing upstairs.”

“Good thinking,” replied Tamara, picking up one of the mugs they kept on the sideboard in their room that served as a kitchenette of sorts. “I'll be back after tea. Do get some rest. Shall I shut out the light?”

“Please do,” Rowena said.

Tamara pressed the switch-button at the door, turning off the overhead light, and left the room. In her single bed, Rowena snuggled down under the covers and tried to rest with a hot water bottle between her feet and a handkerchief clutched in one hand.

Sleep, it seemed, simply would not come. Sitting up, Rowena reached out to turn on the bedside lamp and swung her legs out from under the quilt, finding her slippers with her toes.

With her housecoat on and her cosmetics bag in hand, she went down the hallway to the communal washroom shared with several other rooms on the floor. She was relieved to find it empty, for once. The rest of the house was either at tea or at work. She paused in front of the mirror, examining her pink-tinted nose and chapped lips. She was due to work the next day and finding someone to take her shift would be difficult. Instead, she'd have to muddle through and make the best of it.

Digging in her cosmetics bag, she searched for her small tube of eucalypted Vaseline and dispensed a small ribbon on her fingertip. Gingerly, she spread it around the edges of her chapped nose and upper lip. It burned slightly, but she could feel the vapours beginning to loosen her congestion a little and so she inhaled as best she could through her nostrils.

One pocket of congestion shifted and cleared, sending the pungent scent of the eucalyptus straight to her sensitive airway. Rowena's breath hitched suddenly and she shielded her nose with her handkerchief.

Ngh'tschoo!

With a miserable sniffle, she cleared her nose and gave it a wipe. At this rate, she'd need to launder her handkerchiefs or borrow a few from Tamara to take to work.

From her bag, she took her cold creme and went about her routine of smoothing it into her cheeks and under her eyes. Then, filling a water glass, she took some medicine and returned to her room to try to sleep once more.

It was not long before Tamara returned and she sat at the end of Rowena's bedside while Rowena drank the hot cup of tea. They chatted idly about the gossip of the boarding house and boys and work and the war until Rowena began to feel her eyes drooping with the heavy pull of sleep.

“I need to get some rest,” she told Tamara. “I'm due in tomorrow and I can't miss my shift. We've been so short-staffed and everyone's been taken ill lately.”

“At least you don't start until late in the day,” Tamara replied. “I'm due at the factory early. I'll try not to wake you in the morning.”

Rowena slept straight through the night, waking to only a little stuffiness and a slight tickle to her throat. Tamara was lone gone to her job at the factory and Rowena spent a leisurely afternoon in her room, drinking tea and listening to the wireless while she worked on a pair of socks she'd been knitting.

After a light supper, she gathered her coat, gas mask, and helmet and headed out for the walk to the nearby Underground station where she'd meet up with her patrol partner for the evening.

As an air raid warden, her job required a patrol of the local neighbourhood, watching for any leaks of light or forgotten lamps burning in the windows of homes in her area. Should the raid sirens sound, she would turn her attention to relocating any persons in the street to the nearest shelters before taking up shelter herself. When all was clear, she'd be the first out of the bunker to check for any damage and to report any fires to the local fire brigade.

The streets were damp and dim as she began her walk. A spare handkerchief was tucked into her coat pocket for inevitable future use along with a small tin of lozenges. Hugging her arms against herself, she trudged onward, eyes scanning the block for any traces of light.

Waiting at the Underground was the welcome sight of William Pierce, looking smart in a wool overcoat and scarf.

“Good evening, Miss Brier,” he greeted her.

Rowena grinned and returned the greeting. Will Pierce was a son of the neighbourhood, someone everyone seemed to have known since he was a boy. Though Rowena had only moved to the area a few years prior, Will had spent his whole life in these eight city blocks where they patrolled and his knowledge of the buildings and streets made him an excellent warden.

The war had enlisted every able man in the country but unfortunately, a bout with polio had left Will with a pronounced limp that disqualified him from service. Instead, he'd taken up this patrol job and it suited him immensely.

“Shall we, then?” he asked, slinging his gas mask over his shoulder and putting his helmet over his thick chestnut-brown hair.

Rowena followed, carefully scanning her side of the street as they walked. They chatted casually, exchanging pleasantries with the few pedestrians they encountered on their patrol as they headed home from work in the dark winter evening. Will loped along at her side with his uneven gait, cheerfully waving to folks and chattering away about a letter his family had received from his brother from the French front.

The unpleasant sting of her cold had returned to Rowena's nose and she began to sniffle softly, trying to keep it to a minimum. Somewhere along their fourth patrol block, she paused and quickly removed the gloves from her hands, searching her pocket for her handkerchief.

Her fingers closed around it just in time and she raised it to her nose, pitching forward slightly with a soft sneeze.

Eh-TSCHII!

Will paused and turned, waiting for her to catch up.

“Bless you!” he said as she reached his side, still tending to her nose with the small cloth. “Not catching ill, I hope?”

“Recovering, actually,” Rowena said, pinching her nose one final time before tucking her handkerchief away. “I was in bed all day Sunday. I was thankful to have the evening off.”

“Lucky you,” he replied. “I could hear our neighbour, poor Mrs. Carson, up half of last night. It seems like there's an awful lot of cold and flu going around.”

“It's this awful damp,” she said, keeping pace as they walked. “I don't think I've felt properly warm in weeks.”

“We have the unfortunate pleasure of living in England, I must inform you,” William teased. “You may never feel warmth again.”

She laughed and gave him a gentle push.

“Don't say that!” she said. “Spring will come soon enough.”

“I hear Hitler is trying to thieve that away too,” William replied. He pointed up at a window where a sliver of light shone. “If we want to see spring again, we ought to have them put out that light.”

Rowena knocked on the door and after much shouting and knocking, a bleary-eyed man answered, apologetic. He'd fallen asleep with the lamp burning and hadn't drawn the curtains. With the error corrected, Rowena and Will continued their patrol.

With an hour left to go in their shift, Rowena was starting to feel herself fade. She toyed with the handkerchief in her pocket, keeping it ready within reach as her breath became more laboured.

“I'm sorry, I need to stop for a moment,” she finally confessed to Will. “Excuse me.”

She withdrew the cloth and turned away to blow her nose a few times to clear it. As she did so, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Will asked.

She smiled wanly.

“You're very sweet,” she said, feeling herself blush. “Yes, I'm quite alright. Just tired and cold. Mostly it's the cold.”

“Here,” he said, unwinding his scarf from his neck. He draped it around her shoulders. It was warm where it had been tucked against his skin. He knotted it tight against her throat.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “I should have brought my own.”

“It's colder than I expected too,” he confessed, checking his watch. “We only have an hour to go. I can do it alone if you want to get inside. We're just around the corner from your flat.”

Rowena opened her mouth to protest but was stopped in her tracks by an impending sneeze that quickly had her cupping her hands over her face.

Eh-TGShhnt!

“I think that answers things,” Will said.

“Oh, I shouldn't,” she insisted, dabbing at her nose.

“It's only an hour and a few blocks. I'll be fine. Go.”

He walked her down the street and around the corner to the boarding house, insisting again that she leave him and go to bed.

Relenting, Rowena reached up to remove his scarf.

“Keep it for now,” he said. “You can return it later. Get inside and warm.”

With a cheery wave, he headed down the dark street and Rowena scaled the front steps to the boarding house door. With trembling hands, she unlocked it and went inside, eager for the warmth of her little shared room.

“Who's scarf is that?” Tamara asked, looking up from the book she was reading in bed when Rowena entered the room. “You look frozen straight through.”

“I am,” Rowena said, sniffling. “And it belongs to Will Pierce.”

“Ooh, the handsome gimp,” Tamara giggled.

“That's not very kind. He's quite nimble for someone with a limp.”

“Nimble and handsome.”

“Anyway, it's his and he lent it to me. I'll return it on our next shift together. I need a hot shower and my bed or this cold is going to come back with a vengeance,” Rowena replied.

A few days later, Rowena was back to her full health but the icy damp grip of winter still had a hold on London. She was scheduled to patrol alongside another young woman named Catherine Watson, but she wore Will's scarf just in case they came across him during their rounds.

At ten o'clock, as they passed Fletcher Street, the sharp trill of the air raid siren rang out. Rowena felt her heart leap into her throat as people began to spill out of their homes, rushing to the nearby Underground entrance.

“Quickly and orderly, please!” she shouted, snapping into Warden mode. “Bring your masks and emergency packs!”

She separated from Catherine, taking up her post on the corner, ushering families down the steps into the cavernous subway station. The siren was nearly deafening, but she continued to shout commands over it, helping to organize a group to carry a baby carriage down the steep steps and making sure young children were holding the hand of an adult as the crowd grew larger.

As quickly as the people came, the rush slowed again and Rowena guided the last stragglers downstairs as the roar of airplanes began to rush overhead. People were settling into neat rows along the platform, huddling together with family and neighbours. Someone began to pass around tins of biscuits to calm crying children and several families laid out blankets to make cots for little ones to sleep.

Rowena lowered herself onto the tracks and began to walk the length of the station with a torch shining to light her way. Several hanging lanterns lit the platforms but the station was still eerily dark. She checked with the familiar faces of her patrol route, ensuring that each person had their gas mask and passing out spares to those who had been out in the streets without them when the sirens sounded.

After about an hour, the station had settled into a quiet murmur as many people stretched out on the platform to try to sleep despite the frequent sirens and loud explosions outside, not to mention the damp and cold interior of the subway. A few spare blankets were rationed out to the young, elderly, and ill, but many people who didn't bring emergency kits were simply huddled under their coats.

Rowena quietly walked further down the tunnel, moving her torch slowly, keeping an eye out for Catherine so that she could check in with a report. As she rounded a corner in the track, she saw a person with an air warden helmet leaning against the side of the track but it wasn't Catherine; it was Will Pierce.

She hurried forward, happy to see a friendly face in the dark.

“Will!” she said, reaching his side. “I'm glad to see you; I have your scarf!”

She reached to pull it out from under the collar of her coat.

“No, keep it,” he said. “It's damp down here.”

His voice was softer than normal and a little hoarse.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I think you may have passed along your cold,” he admitted, smiling at her sheepishly as he looked up from under the brim of his hat. With his face now in the light, she could see dark shadows under his eyes and a flush to his cheeks.

Before Rowena could say anything, there was a loud explosion outside that shook the walls of the station and set the hanging pendant lights of the subway platform swinging. From down further in the tunnel, there was a frightened cry and the sound of something falling.

“Come on,” Will said, starting off down the tunnel. Rowena followed, quickly passing him as she hurried towards the noise.

In the dim light further down the tunnel around a bend, she saw a woman crouched with two young children. A small patch of concrete and plaster had given way and fallen nearby.

“Are you alright?” Rowena asked, shining her torch at them.

“Yes,” the woman replied. “Just frightened. It missed us.”

“Come back down to the platform where it's more secure,” Rowena instructed. “I know it's crowded, but it's safer.”

She turned as the woman and her family gathered their things. Will was nowhere to be seen. Concerned, she headed back around the corner, hurrying when she heard the sound of coughs.

Will was bent over, leaning against the subway wall, coughing with an unpleasant rattling sound.

She pulled his scarf from around her neck and circled it around his, tucking it against his chest. The coughs were slowing now but he was breathing heavily, snuffling and wheezing for air.

“Did you bring your kit?” she asked, looking around for the backpack they each usually carried that held an emergency blanket and rations.

“I gave it to someone else,” he said. “They had kids.”

“Okay,” she replied, trying to think of what to do. “Come with me.”

She took his arm, steadying him as he limped down the track at her side, breath rattling noisily in his lungs as he struggled along. They made it back to an area where she'd stowed some spare emergency supplies.

“Can you get back up to the platform?” she asked.

He nodded and swung his bad leg up, straining to pull himself level with the platform. When he finally rolled up over the edge, he was panting and coughing from the effort. Rowena swung herself up and sat at his side.

“Shhh,” she said, bending him forward over his knees so he sat with his legs danging over the side of the tracks. “Slow breaths.”

She rubbed a circle on his back, trying to help him regain his breath. Then, his back shuddered and suddenly expanded outward with a gasping inhalation. He pitched forward, sneezing harshly.

Hurh-TSGHGHH! Nhh-GHSHHT!

“Bless you!” she said. “Sit here and I'll be right back.”

Hurrying down the platform, zig-zagging among the hundreds of people reclining on the floor, she found a supply box and unlocked it, digging through the contents for her pack and some spare supplies.

“What are you looking for?” a voice asked. Catherine was walking from the opposite direction, torch in hand.

“Oh good,” Rowena exclaimed. “I wasn't sure where you'd gone to. Will Pierce was on patrol down at the other end but he's awfully sick and I'm trying to find a blanket and mask.”

“There's spare masks in a box in there,” Catherine confirmed. “I'll get a blanket.”

Rowena finally located the box of flu masks under a stack of gas masks and tugged one from the package. Catherine returned with two blue wool blankets.

“Ta, Catherine,” Rowena replied, taking the supplies. “We're just down by the pillar over there. I'll try to get him settled and then go back to rounds but I'm not sure how long I'll be.”

“I think we're mostly settled in for the night, baring any major incidents,” said Catherine. “So take your time.”

Rowena returned to find William occupied with a rumpled handkerchief held to his nose.

“I found some things,” she said. “This first.”

She spread one of the wool blankets open and draped it over his shoulders.

“And this,” she added, holding out the flu mask. “No more spreading it around. I should have known better myself, but down here it's mandatory.”

“Right,” Will said wearily, taking the mask with the hand not occupied by the handkerchief. He gave his nose a final blow and set the cloth aside. Moving slowly, he took off his helmet and went about the motions of securing the mask over his face.

Without the hat on, Will's thick brown hair was visibly plastered against his brow with sweat and Rowena got her first clear view of his face. His normally bright green eyes were glassy and drooping from lack of sleep.

“Let's get you settled in,” she said, spreading the second blanket on the ground.

“Settled in?”

“Yes, settled in,” she repeated. “You're certainly in no state for anything else.”

“I appreciate the concern, but it's just a cold. You went on patrol yourself with one.”

“But I was recovering and you are definitely not.”

“Still,” Will said, struggling to his feet and letting the blanket drop from his shoulders. “There's plenty to do and I've survived worse.”

He bent over to fold up the blankets and took them in his arms.

“I'll go see if I can find some people who need these more.”

“William...” Rowena said, exasperated.

“You can come with me if you like,” he said, looking back at her. From the crinkle around his eyes, she could tell he was smiling behind the crisp white flu mask.

With a sigh, she hurried off behind him, catching up easily with his uneven gait.

They walked the platform in a mutual quiet, interrupted only by William's occasional sniffles and coughs. He paused to offer one of his blankets to a shivering teenager who'd given up her own coat to a younger sibling and they both stopped to talk to an older couple who needed some water for taking medications. The second blanket went to a pregnant mother sitting with a sleeping toddler on her lap.

Their patrol continued down the tunnel towards the end of the platform. William was starting to lag a little behind and by the time they reached the terminal wall, he was trailing by several paces.

“Other side?” Rowena asked, sitting down on the platform edge so she could climb down onto the tracks.

“Just a moment,” William requested, digging in his pocket. He pulled out his handkerchief and awkwardly pushed his flu mask up to access his nose. He wiped around his drippy nostrils and across his top lip, cleaning up residual congestion. The raw, angry red skin of his nose glowed more fiercely with each wipe and Rowena cringed sympathetically.

“Are you certain you don't want a break?” she asked.

“No, I'll manage,” William confirmed, tucking the handkerchief away and readjusting his mask. With an unsteady movement, he joined Rowena at the platform's edge and dropped down to the tracks, nearly losing his footing as his bad leg took the weight of the jump. Rowena caught his arm, steadying him, and he gave her a grateful nod. They helped each other up and over the edge on the opposite side and continued their rounds.

“How about an evening tea service?” William asked with a glance at his wristwatch as they reached a nearby tunnel that branched off to another connecting station. Several supply carts were waiting with large tea carafes and sleeves of paper cups.

“I think that's a splendid idea,” Rowena agreed. “It's damp down here. I think it would be appreciated.”

“I'll see if I can round up some water,” William offered, lifting one of the large silver carafes and starting off with it in the direction of a water connection. Rowena went about setting up the cart with cups and a few boxes of biscuits.

She heard William's return before she saw him. The sound of coughing echoed off the subway tiles along the tunnel and into the station. She rounded the corner to find him struggling along with the full carafe.

“I've got it,” she said, taking hold of one side.

He shook his head, continuing to move forward, but he could not talk without interruption from his increasingly urgent coughs.

“I'll take it,” a civilian man offered, coming forward to help.

“It goes just there on the cart,” Rowena indicated, pointing towards the supply carriage. The man took the carafe and moved off while Rowena took hold of William's shoulder.

He pulled at his flu mask, tugging it off his face and shielding his coughs with his tented hands instead.

“You sound dreadful,” Rowena sympathized.

“Nothing a cup of tea won't fix,” William rasped between coughs. “Just got myself a bit overexerted with the carafe there.”

“Tea fixes many things, but I don't think it fixes that,” Rowena replied. “I can manage the service. Go find a spot to rest.”

“I'm fine,” William insisted, once again. He tugged his mask back up and clapped his hands together cheerfully. “Where do we start?”

“I'll just set the water to brew. Do you want to go find Catherine and ring the bell? I expect we'll get quite a line.”

She filled a mesh strainer with tea leaves and set it to brew in the large silver pot while William set off to alert the shelter residents to the tea service. A few moments later, a small bell chimed and a line of weary civilians began to form.

William came back with Catherine and another two tins of biscuit rations. Together, the three took turns passing out cups and plates to the assembled crowded and ushering people along the line for tea and a snack.

As they passed out the drinks, another explosion went off outside. Several people jumped, but everyone remained calm except for the nervous cries of a few children. With the offer of a biscuit, however, most of them were quieted quickly.

Sometime on what felt like her hundredth cup passed over, Rowena noticed that William was no longer in his spot by the biscuits. She glanced over her shoulder towards the tunnel, craning her neck over the crowd of people sipping their tea and chattering together

William's thick brown hair was just visible over the crowd for a moment before it disappeared from sight.

“Are you okay here alone?” Rowena asked Catherine.

“Yes,” Catherine replied, handing over more paper cups to an eager family. “Stay as long as you need and try to see if he'll rest. He sounds horrid.”

“I know,” Rowena said with a sigh. “I've been trying.”

She pushed her way through the crowd, stopping to get a blanket from the emergency stores. She came down the passage to a small bend in the tunnel where William was tucked against the wall, caught in the throws of a sneezing fit.

His head was bobbing with each stifled outburst as he kept his nose pinched through his mask. He caught her watching and shook his head like a horse tossing off flies before snapping forward once more.

Ngh-GHT! T'gXHT! Ng'GHT! 'GHT!

“Don't keep them in,” Rowena said, digging a fresh handkerchief from out of her pack and gently guiding it into Will's hand. “You'll burst your ears.”

William shoved his mask down and clamped the clean cloth over his nose, but the sneezes seemed to temporarily cease. But not, evidently, the irritation. He groaned audibly and pressed the cloth harder, wriggling the offending organ and pinching at his nostrils.

“Christ,” he murmured, eyes half closed and mouth open in a state of constant anticipation.

Suddenly, he was back in action again, head snapping forward and eyes clenched shut.

Eh-GHSHHHT!

“Bless you!” Rowena exclaimed. “You're going to lie down before you fall over. Here, I have a blanket.”

Heh-SGHTT!

Will sneezed again and followed it with a wet nose blow.

“I think I'll just sit up against the wall,” he said wearily from behind the handkerchief, sitting down on the ground. “Easier to breathe.”

Rowena hesitated, thinking about Catherine's offer for her to stay as long as necessary.

“That won't get you any proper rest,” she said. “I'll keep you upright.”

She spread a blanket on the ground, sat down at the end, and patted her lap.

Slowly, William stretched out, settling his head tentatively on her thigh.

“That's better,” she said cheerfully, trying to boost his spirits. “Now try to get some sleep. By the looks of you, you need it.”

“I didn't sleep well last evening,” he admitted.

She had half a mind to chide him for coming to work ill but seeing as she'd done basically the same thing, she kept her mouth shut. In her lap, William closed his eyes and lay still for only a moment before she felt him shift.

He reached up, cupping his nose with his hands.

Hehh-TSGHTT!

His head lifted briefly from her leg with the force of the sneeze before falling back down. He reached for his handkerchief and covered his nose with it before the second sneeze.

Hurh-GSHHTTT!

“Bless you,” Rowena said sympathetically.

“That's why I didn't get much sleep,” he grumbled, tugging the mask back over his nose and keeping the handkerchief balled up in his hand.

Outside, there was another explosion and the lights flickered in the station.

“I suspect it may be another night of little sleep,” she said, reaching down and idly stroking his hair away from his forehead. He felt worryingly warm to her touch.

“I hope not,” Will said. His face flexed as he yawned widely behind the mask. “If I'm being honest, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Then don't try to,” Rowena replied. “Enough chatter. Get some sleep.”

He let himself relax in her lap, soon going heavy and limp with sleep. The roar of airplanes and the whir of sirens kept sounding overhead, but Will slept on.

After a half-hour, Rowena's leg began to feel numb. Carefully, she eased Will's head to the ground and went off in search of Catherine.

She was quickly occupied with the task of putting away the finished tea service. All the while, Will lay sleeping a short distance away.

When she was digging in her pack for a small square of chocolate to help allay the fears of a little crying child, she heard William begin to cough.

Handing over the sweetie to the child's mother, she gathered her things and hurried over to find him half-sitting and wrestling to get the flu mask from his face.

Hurh-TSCGHHH!

He sneezed with a miserably congested sound directly into the mask and continued to paw at his face, trying to get the cotton ties undone from around the back of his head.

“Here, let me,” Rowena offered, carefully untying the mask. Will clamped his handkerchief over his nose as soon as it was uncovered and wiped it aggressively.

He blew his nose several times, shyly turning away from Rowena's view as he did so. Each honk was more and more futile, unable to clear any congestion and only serving to make him more red-faced and sweaty. It was clear from the flush of his cheeks that the fever still held its grip.

Rowena checked the dial of her watch; it was nearly one in the morning now.

Will sat with his head held in one hand, breathing raggedly.

“How can I help?” Rowena asked softly.

“Water?” he replied in a gravelly voice. She went to retrieve her canteen and brought it back to him, unscrewing the lid and handing it over.

He drank thirstily, gulping water down his parched and aching throat. When he finished, he leaned half-reclined against a pillar and closed his eyes.

Rowena reached out and gently pressed a hand to his brow. The fever was definitely still there.

“I know,” Will said, leaning into her touch ever-so slightly. “Not good.”

“I'll get a compress,” she said.

“No,” he murmured, words slurred by sleepiness and congestion. “'m cold.”

“I'll make sure it isn't too cold,” she assured him.

“Stay,” he pleaded, eyes drooping closed.

There was no denying that request. She guided his head back down into her lap and tucked the blankets over him.

Gently, she stroked his hair back from his warm brow and combed her fingers through his thick hair. He drifted back to sleep; the weight of him was heavy on her legs but she shifted slightly to adjust the burden and tucked the blankets closer around him.

Sometime around 5am, after her own period of fitful sleep, a siren signaled the all-clear. William stirred, groaning as he strugged to sit up. Rowena, stiff from a night of leaning against the cold subway tiles, helped him with her own groan of discomfort.

“Feeling any better?” she asked.

William didn't answer. He was distractedly searching for his handkerchief in his pocket and he found it in time to catch two messy-sounding sneezes.

Hrhh-TSGHHHH! Ngh-GHSHTTT!

“I guess not,” Rowena concluded sympathetically.

“No,” William admitted, sounding more congested and hoarse than before.

“The all-clear is out. I need to go do a sweep.”

“I'll come,” William said. “I could do with getting out of the damp.”

“It's five in the morning in England,” Rowena said exhasteratedly. “It'll be just as damp up there. Stay where it's warmer and you'll get out with the rest of the lot. It shouldn't be long.”

He reached for his helmet.

“It'll be longer if you're short-staffed and my flat is on the route. You can hand me off to my mum and be finished with my whinging.”

Rowena felt herself smile.

“Your whinging? I don't think I've ever seen a more cheerful ill person before, if I'm being honest.”

They gathered their packs, stopping to let William blow his nose a few times, and headed up the station steps to the outside.

The early morning light was dim, barely illuminating the empty streets. All the lamps were out, of course, thanks to the manditory blackouts. This was the part Rowena hated the most; the utter silence after an air-raid.

At the far end of the street, a building was crumbled and smoking. Several other wardens were already at the scene, combing the debris for unexploded bombs and any victims. They waved Rowena and William onward.

William's family flat wasn't far from the station, but he was visibly weaker and his limp was more apparent when he was fatigued. The sound of his breath rattled as he trudged along at Rowena's side.

“You need to stop,” she said finally, as they reached the corner of his block. He was nearly gasping for breath, unable to breathe through his nose and fighting the congestion in his lungs for each inhalation. William sank down to sit on some nearby steps and put his arms on his knees, bending forward to cough deeply. Rowena put a hand on his back, rubbing it comfortingly.

Ngh-TSGHXHT!

He shuddered with a congested, thick sneeze. He'd abandoned the flu mask at the station and was armed with his handkerchief alone now. He wiped his nose and sighed with a rattling breath. Without the mask on, the angry red tint of his nostrils and his chapped lips made him look more pitiful than before.

“I bet your own bed and a hot water bottle will be the best comfort you can imagine,” Rowena remarked.

Will smiled a little.

“I should think so,” he said. “But you've been a stellar nurse, Ro. Really.”

She felt herself blush.

“I don't mean to be forward,” he said, pausing between words to clear his throat. “But when I'm well again, I hope you'll let me take you to dinner and the cinema. To thank you.”

“Oh,” Rowena heard herself say. “Maybe.”

They fell silent, sitting on the steps in the early morning dewy air.

“Stupid, daft girl...” Rowena thought to herself. “Maybe?! Of course you'd like that.”

She mustered up her courage and leaned over, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“I mean,” she said. “I'd like that very much.”

Will smiled and his fevered cheeks flushed redder still.

“Good,” he said. “I would like that t-tehh...tsh-GHGSHTT!”

He was interupted by yet another sneeze.

“Bless you!” Rowena exclaimed. “Let's get you home and out of this damp air.”

“I think that'd a good idea,” said Will, voice muffled by the handkerchief now clamped to his nose. He gave a sharp, ineffective blow and balled up the cloth in his fist. He stood unsteadily and gripped the railing for support. Rowena curled an arm around his waist and together they walked the final block to his family flat.

“Here we are,” he said, stopping in front of a brick rowhouse. He stood, twisting his handkerchief in his hands, shyly unsure of how to properly thank her.

“I hope you feel better soon,” she said. “Don't hurry back to work. Ring my place when you're well again and we'll go to that picture.”

“I will,” he said. He tentitively reached out a hand and took hers, giving it a squeeze. “I'd kiss you, but I don't want to make you ill again.”

She blushed and squeezed his hand back.

“You can save that for the cinema too,” she replied.

He grinned and let her hand go, turning to make his way slowly up the stairs into the house.

“Be safe,” he said as he turned back to wave from the doorway.

“Be well, she replied, turning and heading back down the block. He watched her go.

Inside, he was greeted by his mother and sister, both recently returned from the shelter in the back garden. One look at him and his mother sent him straight up to his bedroom where he was set up with a spoonful of cough syrup and a hot water bottle and a fresh cup of hot tea.

As he settled in to the single bed, he closed his eyes and imagined himself back in her arms, settled comfortably in her lap.

Three days later, he'd ring her and hear the giggles of the other girls at her boarding house when he asked to speak with her. A year later, when they marry in a quiet ceremony at the city courthouse, still in the middle of a war, he presses an embroidered handkerchief with the date of the air-raid on it into her palm as a wedding gift and she laughs merrily at the sentiment.

#Sickfic #sneezefic #DustyFic

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danielpowell · 4 years

Text

Archive 81 Playlist Master List

[UPDATED as of July 7th, 2024]

Trying to make playlists for all of the cast of Archive 81 and these are what I have so far! Feel free to come suggest tracks for them and also characters I haven’t gotten to yet. If you have enough for the ‘side’ characters, please throw those at me too.

These are all very much a work in progress and subject to change.

Character Playlists:

Daniel Powell

Tanya Molova

Mark/Dromen

Mr. Davenport

Melody Pendras

Alexa Kesslen-Pendras

Tamara Morris

Jesse Lewis

Joshua and Victor

Jacob the Rat

Samuel

The Visser Historical Society

Gladys

Craig Simmons

Chris

Gregory Baim

Carlos Rolando

Iris Vos

Ratty

LMG

Chad

Timothy

Beth

The Messenger

The Choir

Green Woman

Suit

Clara

Lou

Andrew Martine

Kevin

Benjamin

RLR Productions

The Gardener

Professor Vandemeer

The Curator

The Representative

Cassandra Wall

The Boatwoman

The Golden Age Ensemble

Christine Anderson

Nicholas Waters

Michael Waters

Aleister

Kathy Quinn

Hunter

Penelope Winthrop

Jerome

Jeanette Jefferys

Violet Vos

Payphone

Static Man

Cindy Johannson

Busby the Beekeeper

Ms. Patricia Roland

The Irons Crew

Thomas

Morgan the Clerk

The Trucker

Dr. Persimmons

Miscellaneous:

Songs to Cry About Dan to

What it says on the tin- a mix of songs I listened to while thinking of Dan and started crying about it. Can’t guarantee results but if you are down for some good cries, be my guest! Shuffle-friendly.

Songs to Fall in Love With Your Muse to

A mix of 80s/90s queer-coded (to me anyway) love songs that remind me of Jacob Lester (pre-Rat) from season 1. I just love some 80s and 90s songs, my dudes. Shuffle-friendly.

Songs to Ominously Warn Your Bandmates With

An assorted mix of garage band-esque tracks. Loosely inspired by the band practice tape from season 3. Shuffle-friendly.

Instrumental Tracks to Contemplate Your Humanity Over

A mix of ambient tracks that made me feel like I was walking through the City or holed up in a bunker in the middle of the woods or performing rituals or- just general ambient A81 energy tracks. Shuffle-friendly.

Dan’s Music Library

I’ve seen a lot of people’s take on what constitutes a ‘hipster’ music taste and I’m a picky mofo so here’s my take on Dan’s music taste based on what he has been stated to listen to in the actual show- it’s awful and I’m sorry not sorry. Shuffle-friendly.

Train Loneliness

This is straight up just a mix of songs about trains/subways. I love train sounds and the sound design in these is super fun. It’s in here because the Train Loneliness tape is my favorite and yes, I do cry about it daily. Shuffle-friendly.

And Everything Turned Out Alright

If you didn’t know, I’m obsessed with post-s3 Dan and Clara being roommates; so this is a little playlist I made inspired by that concept. I hope it makes you as emotional as it does for me. Best played in order.

Press Your Face to Mine

[REDACTED INFORMATION]

You’re Not Too Bad Looking Yourself, Mate

A DanLou playlist cause if no one else is gonna steer the ship, it might as well be me. Shuffle-friendly.

I Don’t Have Much Time

Season three flavored Dan playlist. A lot of instrumental and ambient tracks. Best played in order.

95.6QRSKLB22ROBBRX29900339UOBK2RNJKLSOKV49BQ42069NNNNNNEVIOJR The Wolf

A Left of the Dial playlist. Based on the idea of a weird radio station. Experimental tracks with a healthy helping of metal and a sprinkle of odd picks that just fit to me. Best played in order.

Tea With My Marimo

An ambient/instrumental playlist based off the idea of a post-s2 Caroline recovering and growing plants. Shuffle-friendly.

Math Rock Roomies

A math rock mix for Dan and Clara, because I think their music connection extends there. Shuffle-friendly.

Aboard the Irons

A watery mix for the Irons ship- mostly ambient/instrumental but a few lyrical tracks thrown into it as well. Shuffle-friendly.

Ritual Radio

A weird mix that contains either instructions or strange items- mostly dream pop or psychedelic tracks. Loosely inspired by tapes from the archives, Michael Waters’ ritual tapes, or radio segments from Left of the Dial. Shuffle-friendly.

Chassis in the Flowerbeds

A atmospheric/ambient playlist based off of Melody and Alexa’s community garden home from season 2. Based around the idea of an eldritch garden that can grow audio-producing objects. Best played in order.

Not Built, Found

A season 2 playlist. Based on the idea of getting a tour of the Outpost and the people that currently occupy it. I reused some bits from previous playlists to help set the scene. Best played in order.

Have you ever tasted blood? Yyyeeessss : )

A bizarre and vaguely horrific Rat mix. Based on a cursed video of Gr*mes that radiated such Rat energy I could not resist making a mix based on it. Shuffle-friendly.

Cycles of Blood and Death and Exploitation

An edgy mix full of sex and violence. Really a thinly veiled excuse to put as much NIN on a playlist as I possibly could. Suggest skipping this one if not an adult or s*x-repulsed. Shuffle-friendly.

Why Did You Date Me?

An aromantic Dan playlist. I stand by this headcanon and I don’t care what anyone else says I know I’m right. Best played in order.

Boombox Fuckboy

A mix that is entirely comprised of titles that contain audio equipment, instruments, and music storage. Shuffle-friendly.

Score One for Films

A movie score mix. I have shit taste in films and I’m giving that trait to Dan. Shuffle-friendly.

Peppermint Mochas and Patch Cords

A modular synthesis mix. It’s just tracks that utilize modules. Shuffle-friendly.

Static Man Just Air Drums Into the Void

A percussive mix. Based on Static Man’s void riffing. Ordered but shuffle-friendly.

The City is Still a Part of Me

A post-s3 playlist where Dan can still pick up radio frequencies. Lot of sample usage. Best played in order.

And They Were Shipmates

A ChrisLou mix because I think the t4t bi lovers deserve a ship playlist. Mostly sailing and ocean-related tracks. Kind of summery as well. Shuffle-friendly.

What Drives You

Another exploration of post-s3 Dan but this time canon-compliant. I had a blast figuring this one out and I recommend giving it a listen to experience what it has to offer. Best played in order.

Scary Numbers and Work Friends

What's that ? Another Dan playlist ? Pffft what I don't- this is a Severance (Apple TV) AU playlist where Dan takes on a role similar to Helly. It's composed primarily of plunderphonics because I love the genre to bits. Best played in order.

Something Beautiful and New

A mix focusing on the City. It's supposed to convey the sensation of visiting a vast, unknown world with vague familiarity. Mostly trip hop, ambient, and vaporwave, with adjacent genres. Best played in order.

Eldritch Urbex

Another mix focusing on the City. This one is for the residents of it. Wide range of genres. Partner playlist is the one above. Best played in order.

Messenger Devotee

A mix focusing on the Messenger. Mostly plunderphonics, vaporwave, and trip hop. Heavy sample usage. Best played in order.

New Flesh

A mix focusing on Dan's new flesh and all that it entails. I fully indulged on this when it came to genre / style and tried to focus on good transitions. Best played in order.

Songs From the Archive

Dumping grounds for any tracks I feel might work for a playlist or just have A81 vibes. Shuffle-friendly.

#archive 81 #a81 #melvis jams #songs from the archive

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rauthschild · 5 years

Photo

Two Of Worlds Richest Men Meet At US Strategic Command After Trump Makes Over 600 Arrests—One Doesn't Survive

By: Sorcha Faal

A mind-blowing highly-classified “Of Special Importance” new Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR) report circulating in the Kremlin today noting a nearly 3-week period of events that saw DHS whistleblower Phillip Haney being assassinated after he talked with Russian disease expert Olesya Krasilova about the coronavirus outbreak in Iran, that was followed by the assassination of US Attorney Timothy Delgado, along with his wife Tamara Delgado, who was investigating the contract murder of Haney, and President Donald Trump ordering the take down of a CIA narco plane after he discovered the White House communication system had been hacked, says that the series of events immediately following these Trump-Deep State skirmishes presage a much more brutal conflict soon to come—a series of events that began on Wednesday-11 March when Trump’s Department of Justice announced the arrest of over 600 Mexican drug cartel members known to be working with rogue elements of the CIA, as well as the shock revelation that Trump’s FBI had been secretly wiretapping a former top Obama Clinton Regime official in the DEA—that continued into Thursday-12 March when Trump met with Prime Minister Varadkar of Ireland in the White House—a meeting made notable because it was also attended by Anne Tatlock, who is the main trustee for the Howard Hughes Medical Institute, and aside from her medical institute being a global leader in the investigation of coronaviruses, Tatlock is a first-generation Irish-American whose parents were born in Ireland, thus making her being at the White House no surprise—but in the earlier morning hours of Friday-13 March, saw Tatlock flying from Washington D.C. to Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska where she was met by the world’s 4th richest man Warren Buffett—both of whom then went into the secure US Strategic Command bunker complex, where they were met a few hours later by the world’s 2nd richest man Bill Gates—the same Bill Gates who in 2018 warned “The world needs to prepare for pandemics just like war”—and after his emerging from this secure bunker meeting he held with Tatlock and Buffett, then saw Gates making a shock announcement that he has immediately resigned from the board of the Microsoft company he founded, as well as from his position on Buffett’s company’s board of directors—the greatest significance of though, is that what has just occurred happened previously during the last time a US national crisis was underway—and occurred on 11 September 2001 when America was attacked—an attack of suspicious origin that saw then President George W. Bush immediately flying to Offutt Air Force Base—and upon his entering the secure US Strategic Command bunker complex, saw him, like Gates yesterday, being confronted by Anne Tatlock and Warren Buffett, both of whom were already there waiting for him.

According to the very limited portions of this highly-classified intelligence report permitted to be commented on by selected ministries, one of the least known most powerful people in America is Anne Tatlock—who before retiring, headed one of the richest and oldest international banking concerns founded in 1931 called Fiduciary Trust Company International—and while heading, saw Tatlock further being the head trustee of the Howard Hughes Medical Institute, a position she currently holds to this day.

Twenty-six years ago, this report continues, high interest by SVR intelligence analysts into the workings of the Howard Hughes Medical Institute became accelerated because of this medical institutes research into the HIV coronavirus—specifically because of this institute’s 1994 scientific study titled “Coronavirus: How A Large RNA Viral Genome Is Replicated And Transcribed”—a scientific study co-authored by one of their leading coronavirus investigators Doctor-Scientist Ning Zheng—wherein it provided a roadmap into how a novel coronaviruses is created—a discovery followed in 2003 with the novel coronavirus outbreak called SARS-CoV—and then again in 2012 with the MERS-CoV novel coronavirus outbreak—all of which were then followed in 2015 with the US government publishing their scientific document titled “A SARS-Like Cluster Of Circulating Bat Coronaviruses Shows Potential For Human Emergence”—a scientific document that for the first time publically acknowledged that a novel coronavirus could be created in a laboratory—thus leading to many questions being raised as to the true origins of the 2019-2020 current SARS-CoV-2 novel coronavirus pandemic outbreak—the most concerning questions about now revolve around lead Howard Hughes Medical Institute coronavirus expert Doctor-Scientist Ning Zheng, who is also a professor of pharmacology at the University of Washington School of Medicine—a public medical center located in Seattle-Washington—and is a Seattle that’s now the epicenter of the coronavirus outbreak in the US whose death toll now stands at 37.

Seattle-Washington becomes epicenter of coronavirus outbreak in United States for still unknown and mysterious reason.

With many powerful establishments in America now blaming China for hiding coronavirus information from the rest of the world, this report details, the Chinese government has fired back saying it’s the Americans who are hiding something—the facts and reality of which does, indeed, prove the United States is hiding what is happening with the coronavirus outbreak in Seattle—as the 35-year-old man the US designated as “Patient Zero” had no contact with the nursing home where its patients suddenly began dying from the coronavirus—that the US explained away with the words “somehow, someone was missed”—and leaves unexplained the remarkable coincidence of one of the world’s leading coronavirus experts Doctor-Scientist Ning Zheng and the world’s 2nd richest man Bill Gates living in this same pandemic outbreak epicenter city of Seattle—a coincidence worthy of investigation as Bill Gates had what he called a “vaccine epiphany” in 1999 and set out to deal with the world’s most deadly diseases with his multi-billon dollar fortune—a world, however, in 2018 saw Gates declaring it was overpopulated—and was an overpopulation declaration Gates near immediately followed with his grim warning of millions of soon to come deaths and his stating: “The world needs to prepare for pandemics just like war”.

As part of Bill Gate’s preparation for the pandemic war he predicted in 2018 making him further open to suspicion as to his possible involvement in this present coronavirus pandemic, this report notes, were his actions at this year’s World Economic Forum Annual Meeting held in Davos-Switzerland between 21-24 January 2020—a meeting where Gates urged world leaders to immediately adopt the strategic global initiative launched by the United Nations on 20 May 2016—a strategic global initiative known as ID 2020 whose goal is to give every person on Earth a “digital identity” by 2030—a “digital identity”, however, Gates, and those powerful globalist elites supporting him, plan to force on people with “nano-chip vaccinations” administered against their wills by police and soldiers—and makes explainable why this past fortnight, on 2 March, an urgent message was sent to the World Economic Forum from Gates wherein he basically said this current coronavirus pandemic is a perfect time to begin this forced vaccination masterplan—but wherein Gates also lied with his absurd statement that: “There are two reasons that COVID-19 is such a threat. First, it can kill healthy adults in addition to elderly people with existing health problems”—as absolutely no “healthy adults” have died from this coronavirus anywhere in the world.

With President Trump being a Christian having full Biblical knowledge that this Bill Gates forced nano-chip forced vaccination ID2020 masterplan for every human being alive was ripped straight out the prophetic Book of Revelations, that warned over two-thousand years ago: “And he causeth all both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads...And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.”, this report concludes, left unknown to the American people is that what is occurring now in their lives is about to get even more chaotic—as though Trump used both Anne Tatlock and Warren Buffett to sideline Gates, as they both had done in 2001 with President Bush to stop his “We’re Going to Take out 7 Countries in 5 Years: Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Libya, Somalia, Sudan and Iran” insanity—and whose, perhaps, best advice to follow was just given by the rogue American journalist Caitlin Johnstone in her article “The Great Unpatterning Continues. Make Sure You Take Advantage Of It”, and who correctly warns:

We’re coming to a point in history where the only reliable pattern is the disintegration of patterns, and 2020 has come storming out of its corner swinging for the fences working to establish this pattern with extreme aggression.

We’re not going to hit a point of stability or normality this year, we’re going to see things get crazier and crazier and crazier.

I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know it’s going to be nuts.

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