Tumgik
#Willow starts feeling more and more comfortable around him. Brings him little pots of flower from time to time.
Text
Aro Hunter and Aro Willow...QPR...LISJEIOWJOIJ-
25 notes · View notes
idreamofhazel · 6 years
Text
What Could’ve Been and What Will Be
Tumblr media Tumblr media
If you’re wondering why this is being posted, may I direct you here?
Summary: A case brings you and Sam back together two years after he rescued you from a Djinn. It’s a bittersweet reunion that leaves you with some choices to make.
Pairing: Sam x reader, italics are reader’s POV
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings: a little angsty, some fluff
This was originally posted in four parts.
Author’s note: This is the very piece of Supernatural fanfiction I ever wrote and posted back in April 2016. This story basically made me obsessed with writing. It’s the reason you’re stuck with me almost three years later! Please take any cringiness in stride.
The dim light of the library and the comforting smell of old books was making Sam drowsy, but he continued to search for cases on his laptop. One in particular had caught his eye. After spending a couple of minutes staring at the bright screen that was fatiguing his eyes, debating on whether to mention this one to Dean or not, he finally spoke up.
“Hey Dean, I think I’ve got something,” Sam said, looking up from his laptop.
Mumbling through a mouth full of cheeseburger, Dean said, “Yeah, what is it?”
“There’s been a few disappearances in a small town in Indiana. All of them have been young women, each about 2 or 3 weeks apart. Could be nothing, but we could at least check it out.”
The name of this small town sent Sam’s memory and emotions into a flurry. He kept this from Dean, though. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and yet he also hoped this case would turn out to be nothing, for your sake.
(Y/N).
He hadn’t thought about you in such a long time, having pushed his memories and feelings about you under the surface in order to protect you from this kind of life. The hunting life. He hoped this potential case wouldn’t jeopardize that. Of course, he didn’t even know if you still lived in the same town. Maybe you had moved on to something better. He hoped you had.
“Eh, why not. We’ve been stuck in this bunker for awhile anyway. How far away is it?” Dean asked while stretching his arms behind his head and then getting up from his chair at the table. The sudden screech of the chair legs across the floor jolted Sam awake from his thoughts.
“Uh...about 10 hours,” Sam answered, unsure if Dean would agree to check out this possible hunt, knowing how far away it is. But Sam had a hunch about what could be happening in this town. He decided to to wait on revealing anything to Dean, though. After all, this could be a completely different monster than last time, or maybe it was just humans.
“Wow. Why this case? Isn’t there something closer we could check out?”
“Not that I found. It’s this or nothing.” That wasn’t entirely truthful, though. Sure, there were some other small leads closer to Kansas, but Sam knew there was a higher possibility of this case turning out to be a hunt.
“Ok, ok,” Dean grumbled, “I’ll start packing stuff up. We can leave in the morning.”
Dean left the library. Sam stayed behind, staring at the laptop screen, but letting his mind wander to the last time he was in the town that him and Dean were about to travel to.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“This has been the fourth disappearance in 6 weeks. Catherine Smith went missing two days ago from her campus apartment. Her roommate had just returned from a weekend trip and noticed that...”
You promptly changed the channel. You had heard about a couple of the other disappearances. They were all over the news, but you tried to ignore them. It’s not that you didn’t care about the victims, but you had done so well to rebuild your life after what happened two years ago, so you tried to stay away from anything that could trigger the memories you had been successful in conquering lately. Even if these disappearances turned out to be just a serial killer, or a even a coincidence, it was best if you stayed away from anything that suggested “supernatural” for now. You turned your focus to the movie that was now on the screen. Another one of those cheesy, romantic tv movies. You watched it anyway. It was sort of a guilty pleasure of yours.
After dinner, you felt so exhausted from your long day at work and your full stomach that you decided to turn in for the night. It was only 9:30, but you thought that even if you didn’t get out much, you at least had your life together with a stable job. That’s the best you could ask for right now considering what you had been through. After checking all the locks on the doors and windows, you washed up, changed into some shorts and a t-shirt, turned on some quiet piano music, and got into bed. The copious amount of pillows around you comforted you and made you feel as if you were in your own, safe cocoon, far away from any monsters. Drifting off to sleep, your mind wandered to a face you hadn’t seen in quite some time…
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dean’s insanely fast driving turned what was supposed to be a ten and a half hour trip into a seven hour trip. It was a wonder that Dean never got pulled over. He and Sam reached their destination around noon, found a motel, and settled in. The long drive had afforded Sam plenty of time to mull over his memories of you and allow his imagination to slowly drift to the possibility of seeing you again. Dean had noticed Sam’s absentmindedness during the drive and even while they were unpacking at the motel. He had barely spoken since they hit the road this morning. Something was definitely up with Sam today.
“Hey Sam?” Dean said. He and Sam were sitting in their motel room gathering any last minute information they could before heading out to start investigating the kidnappings.
Looking up from his laptop, Sam replied, “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Everything ok? You seem a little…distracted. You sure you’re up for a possible hunt? We need to be focused”
“Uh, no, I’m…I mean, yeah, everything’s good. I’m definitely focused on the case.”
That much was true. Sam was probably more focused on this case than any other one he’d been on lately, except maybe for the ones involving Amara. Sam had been searching for you on the internet, trying to find any information at all that would help him protect you if needed. When Dean interrupted his search, Sam had just found your address. You still lived in town. Sam’s heart sank and rose all at the same time. He might see you again, but at what cost?
“Ok, well let’s go to the police station and get the names of the families we’re supposed to interview. Hopefully the drive here was worth it,” Dean offered.
“Sure, yeah. Good idea,” Sam agreed, rubbing his hands over his eyes and then getting up from his chair. He pulled out his suit from his bag and began to change.
“Ma’am, we understand this is difficult, but the FBI has some new leads that might possibly help us solve this case and find out what happened to your daughter.”
Sam was always able to get even the most reluctant person to open up to him. His skills in this area were invaluable to his and Dean’s work. Dean had spent most of the day as Sam’s assistant, watching while Sam easily and softly got the victims’ families to talk to him about the most difficult time of their lives. Right now, Sam was talking to the mother of the third victim. The first two victims’ bodies had already been discovered. Sam knew it was only a matter of time until the police found the third one too, but he couldn’t find it in himself to completely crush this mother’s hopes.
“Do you…do you think she could still be alive?” Mrs. Riley questioned from behind her tear-soaked tissue.
Hesitantly, Sam looked at her and, with the most sincerity he could muster, he replied, “As long as they haven’t found her…her body yet, there’s still hope.”
Mrs. Riley nodded, looking down at the floor. Dean and Sam glanced at each other, signaling that it was time to move on to the next house.
Sam and Dean thanked Mrs. Riley for her time, went out to the Impala, and drove to their next destination. Dean had yet to discover a connection between the victims or any leads that suggested creatures other than humans being involved, but Sam’s head was churning with possible explanations. However, he was going to wait until they interviewed the fourth family before telling Dean about any of the information he knew.
Pulling up to the driveway, the lot was tranquil and suburban. A large willow tree swayed in the wind in front of the picturesque gray house. Flowers lined the front of the house and hung from pots on the porch. Memories of when Sam questioned your friend’s family in their home about your disappearance hit him like a brick wall, making the scene hard to take in. This house looked so similar. Sam remembered finding out that you didn’t have much of a family anymore. Your friend and her parents had become your own surrogate family ever since your mom died. Your mother’s death hit you hard and you slipped into a dark period of your life. You loved to read and spend time in the quiet, alone with your own thoughts. You eventually found peace in this. Sam remembered showing a slight smile in that moment when he was told this, recognizing that he completely understood that need. You had gone to the library the day you disappeared. Thinking back, it was unfortunate that he hadn’t found out all of this information from you.
"Man, are you sure we need to talk to this family? I'm just not getting anything from this case." Dean was becoming frustrated and bored. He was ready to move onto a real case.
"I really think we need to talk to the last victim's family. Everything is still fresh in their minds. They could remember something more helpful," Sam argued.
Huffing, Dean got out of the car and walked up to the door. Sam swiftly followed. The door was answered quickly by a woman, the mother. The two brothers flashed their badges and she welcomed them in and offered them something to drink.
"No, thank you, Mrs. Smith. We don't want to take up too much of your time, really. We just need to ask you a few questions. The FBI has a new angle for the case, so we just need some more information," Sam said to Mrs. Smith.
"Of course, please, ask whatever you need to if it helps bring my daughter home safely."
Sam and Dean ran through the usual questions--cold spots, weird noises in the walls, sulfur smell--just to make sure this case fit with the rest. They asked about her daughter, what she had been up to lately, and how her life was going. Everything Catherine's mother said was positive. She was doing well in college, had a great boyfriend, and was on the college basketball team. She had recently moved in with a roommate in order to make the last step toward adulthood: being out on her own. Her disappearance couldn't have come at a worse time. Catherine's life reminded Sam of your own. You had already graduated college when he met you, but you were just starting over again in your life. You had a new job, your own place. Your family had revealed all this to Sam. They were devastated by your disappearance. You had been able to overcome your mothers death and move on from your grief, only to be kidnapped and have your own life threatened...
At the end of the interview, Mrs. Smith asked Sam to let her know of any changes in the case and he agreed. Sam and Dean left and returned to the motel.
"I don't know, Sam. I don't see anything weird about this case. I don't think it's our type of thing," Dean said, "What are you thinking?"
Sam replied, "I want to talk to Catherine's roommate. Her mom seemed to think everything was fine, but this roommate could have some different information."
Sam had already begun to piece this case together. It was so similar to last time. Each of the young women who had been taken were just starting out on their lives, but still struggling with something. He just needed to be sure all the disappearances fit this description.
"Sure, whatever," Dean grumbled, "You go do that. I'm taking a nap. But if there's nothing, we're leaving."
Sam nodded and headed out the door. He was beginning to think he was going to have to tell Dean about the last time he worked this case. He would keep you a secret though. The less involved you were with this monster, the better.
Catherine’s roommate had a very different story to tell. Even though she was reluctant to tell Sam about Catherine’s recent misfortunes, Sam eventually pulled the information from her.
Catherine’s issues started about a month ago. Her boyfriend broke up with her and the heartbreak caused her grades to slip. She got suspended from the basketball team, but kept all of this from her parents. She had felt a lot of pressure from them to succeed in college, but she had hit a rough spot. Her roommate also let Sam know that she had starting talking to another man. The roommate never saw him around, but Catherine would go to see him often. He hadn’t called about Catherine since her disappearance, though. With all of this information in hand, Sam knew without a doubt, the monster had returned.
Before going back to the hotel, Sam drove to a small park and gave himself a few minutes to think about what he was going to do next, to think about you. 
You still lived in town. The monster was back. There was no guarantee that he would come after you again, but Sam had to make sure you were safe. His thoughts flashed back to when he found you last time, tied up and barely alive. He saved you just in time. His priority was to get you out safely and he knew he couldn’t do that and go after the monster at the same time. He was hunting alone and so he sacrificed killing the monster in that moment in order to get you to a hospital. He remembered how brave you were, how, with all the strength your weak and tired body could muster, you tried to sit up in his car, to speak, to tell him about your abductor. You had said, “You’re probably going to think I’m crazy but...” Sam had stopped you and explained that he knew all about the monsters. When you both got to the hospital, Sam tenderly carried you through the doors and held you until nurses came with a cot and wheeled you away. He explained how he found you as an FBI agent and told the nurses that he needed to stay with you. They cleaned you up and checked for broken bones and any other serious problems. 
Sam admired how calm you stayed, allowing the nurses and doctors to check every inch of you for injuries. You answered their questions, quickly coming up with a decent cover story, leaving out all details of anything non-human. He remembered thinking that you were so intelligent. When the hospital staff was done getting you set up in a room, Sam pulled a chair up to your bed and asked you your name.
“(Y/N),” she answered softly, “I can’t thank you enough-”
Sam had put his hand up to say that you didn’t need to thank him. You smiled at him--god, your smile was so beautiful--and nodded as if to say that you understood that this was Sam’s job. He didn’t need a thank you right now. He had only needed to know you would be ok. He asked you what the doctors had said about your condition. You checked out fine, you were just dehydrated and had suffered from blood loss. You were able to go home in a couple of days as long as there were no complications. Sam stayed with you until evening. He didn’t want to leave, but the monster was still out there. Sam explained to you that he had to go. You would be ok, but he was going to leave town after he finished up here. You had seemed to understand. He couldn’t believe how understanding you were in that moment. It’s as if you already knew what kind of life he led. You amazed Sam, with your calm demeanor, your intelligence, your understanding, and with your beauty. Sam had no idea how someone who had just been through hell could still look so beautiful only a few hours after escaping it.
When Sam got up to leave, he took your hand and held it for a moment, smiling at you. He laid it gently back onto the bed and then walked to the door.
You stopped him. “Wait,” you said, “I don’t know your name.”
He turned around, the corners of his mouth slowly curving upward, and he gladly answered, “It’s Sam.”
Sam never found the monster again. He tracked it for three more days, but it had vanished.
A buzz from Sam’s phone brought him back to the present. It was Dean.
“Hey, where are you? Is everything ok? You’ve been gone for hours.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I’ve just been thinking, trying to piece together this case. I’m on my way back now. The roommate’s information was really helpful. I know what we’re hunting.”
“We’re hunting a djinn,” declared Sam.
He had returned to the motel after Dean called him. Dean highly doubted that this case would turn out to be a hunt, but Sam knew otherwise. He decided it was time to reveal what he knew to Dean.
“What? How do think that?” Dean asked, the surprise in his voice unmasked.
“I’ve hunted it before.”
If Sam didn’t have Dean’s attention before, he certainly did now.
“What do you mean you’ve hunted it before? You didn’t think that was a good idea to tell me before we talked to all those families? We could’ve already ganked this thing!” Dean voices was terse and agitated.
Sam had already thought of his response. “I needed to be sure. I didn’t want to hunt after something that wasn’t there. I thought I could just, I don’t know, play it by ear, see what happens.”
Dean relaxed a bit, but was still visibly annoyed that Sam hadn’t just told him this from the get-go. “Well, how do you know it’s here now? And when did you hunt this stupid genie anyway?”
“It was after Kevin’s death, when you took off. I worked a couple cases while you were gone. I came across the stories about the kidnappings and decided to check it out. And now the same exact pattern is happening again.”
“And what pattern is that exactly?”
“The djinn finds young women who are struggling in life, who would easily succumb to his promises of something different, something better. He disguises himself as a human, like that djinn that almost got you, Brigitta. He gets to know them and then, when he has their trust, he takes them to his hideout and uses his magic on them. It happened this way last time and it’s happening again. Every woman who’s been taken has been struggling with something or had a tragedy happen recently.”
“What about Catherine? Her mother seemed to think everything was peachy.”
“Yes, even her. Her roommate told me she was recently dumped, starting failing her classes, and got suspended from the basketball team. And she started talking to some ‘mystery guy’ who the roommate never saw come around.”
Dean began to put the pieces together himself. “Ok, so this creep finds women who are at the worst points of their lives and then feeds off of them? Great. We’re hunting a sociopathic djinn with a ‘type.’”
“I know.”
“Sammy...why didn’t you off this guy the first go around?”
Sam knew exactly what to say to get Dean off his case. “I-I was hunting alone. He was stronger than I expected. He knocked me out and when I woke up he was gone. I tried tracking him, but he vanished. I thought he’d skipped town.”
“So this guy is extra creepy because he’s still obsessed with this town and these women. We need to do this right this time. Do you think he’d hole up in the same place?”
“I don’t know if he’d be dumb enough to do that, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. Let’s get the addresses of any other abandoned places in town and check out a few of them tonight. We can’t waste any more time, he’s still got Catherine.”
“Sam, we don’t exactly have an endless supply of lamb’s blood lying around to use. Why don’t you check the addresses while I go to some butcher shops or something and see if I can get the blood.” That was going to be an amusing conversation, Dean thought.
“Ok, good plan.”
Sam, stretching out across one of the dingy motel beds began to quickly search for any building in the area that the djinn might use to hide his victims. Dean took off to get the supplies.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Earlier that same day)
At the office, you couldn’t stop thinking about the disappearances. Fliers were posted on the streets, local news channels were constantly updating the public, and your co-workers wouldn’t stop discussing it. You couldn’t escape any of it. Your thoughts were running circles in your head all morning. What if it was that man again? Or some other horrible monster? You never did find out the name of that creature or if Sam had finally caught up to him.
Sam...
He was in your dreams last night, a blur of tender, caring gestures and smiles. This dream was just like the day he rescued you, hazy and surreal from the effects of what you had just experienced. Your brain took a leap of faith: What if he was in town hunting again?
“(Y/N)! Helloooo? Hey!” A hand was snapping in front of your face almost on queue to tell you that your imagination was being unreasonable. It was your co-worker, Grace.
“Geez, what has gotten into you today? You’re never this spacey. I’ve been trying to get your attention for like five minutes! I need you to run to FedEx and pick up the new business cards for the office. They just came in and the boss doesn’t want to wait for them to be delivered,” Grace explained.
“Oh, wow, I’m sorry. I’m just... really tired, I didn’t sleep well at all last night. Those crazy callers from yesterday really stressed me out. I’ll go run and do that right now,” you replied, lying about the reason for your zoning out.
“Bad sleep” couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, you had slept more peacefully last night than any other night you could remember. As you drove off to pick up the office’s order, you remembered that Sam had that effect on you. 
After being bound and drained of your blood for three days, slipping in and out of alternate realities, quickly losing track of what was real and what wasn’t, you were frightened and anxious, to say the least. You don’t really remember Sam coming into the warehouse or untying you. You came-to in his car, though, a bump jolting you awake. You began to panic, trying to explain what happened because you needed to know whether you were crazy or not, but as soon as you felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder and his calm voice reassure you, you were able to settle down. You’d never felt weaker in your entire life and you began to feel dizzy from the blood-loss. Adrenaline rushing through your brain and into your muscles had given you the last shot of energy to sit up and speak, but after laying back down, you succumbed to the overwhelming fatigue that was weighing down on you. The next thing you remember was laying in a hospital bed, being wheeled down the hall. Again, anxiety began to sweep over you until you saw your mystery man walking right beside the bed. You didn’t know if it was his smile, his soft touch, or the sheer fact that he had confirmed you weren’t crazy that made you unusually calm around him. He smiled down at you reassuringly.
His presence in the room made the doctor’s examinations and questions much easier to get through. You had to make up a convincing story about your abduction and injuries, so sometimes you could feel panic starting to rise up in your chest, your heart beginning to beat faster. All you had to do, though, was look over at Sam and you were reminded that there was someone else who knew all about this crazy world you had just been introduced to. You didn’t have to experience this alone and in ignorance. You were so thankful that he told you the truth about what had happened to you. Otherwise, returning to reality would’ve been even more difficult than it had been.
When Sam said he had to leave, you understood why. You knew that this monster needed to be hunted. You just wished that Sam could stay a little bit longer. Your family would be here soon, though. You replayed your last memory of him over and over again as you drove through the city. He had stopped at the sound of your voice, turning around to look at you. Time seemed to slow, and with an intense gaze and soft smile, he answered your request to at least know his name, “It’s Sam.”
That was the last time you heard his voice or saw his face. For a few days, everything seemed fine. You went back home after being released from the hospital. The police assured you that they would catch the guy who did this to you. Your family helped you put new locks on the doors and windows of your house for extra protection. They purchased an alarm system for you as well. You went back to work after a few days of recovery, but that’s when things started to go downhill.
Once you were back out into the real world, every man who looked like your abductor sent chills down your spine and anxiety pulsing through your veins. You began to see him everywhere. In the corner of your eye. In the man on the street who’s face you couldn’t see. At home, any unknown sounds sent you into panic mode. The creak of a floorboard, the wind hitting your screen door, any of it could be that “thing” coming back to finish the job. You couldn’t get his glowing blue eyes out of your head. They haunted you in your dreams, keeping you from sleep. Eventually, it became so bad that you stopped going to work. Venturing outside seemed too dangerous and you had begun to have panic attacks when something reminded you of your kidnapping. You stayed home everyday, depressed by the constant fear in your life and your debilitating condition. It was at this point when your family made you get help. They convinced you to see a doctor who specialized in this type of thing. You were reluctant to talk to her, but within a few minutes of chatting together, you felt you could trust her. She gave you a name to what was happening to you. A name you could use to target your efforts against. PTSD.
With the therapist’s help, you slowly but surely began to heal. She helped lessen your reactions to your triggers, teaching you how to relax. Since you wouldn’t be able to face your attacker and conquer your fear in-person, she suggested you take self-defense classes so you could not only learn how to protect yourself, but you could also imagine every punch, every kick, every hit landing onto your abductor. You took her advice and enrolled in a self-defense class, a martial arts class, and a course on guns. You put all your time and energy into perfecting your fighting skills. One year later, you left therapy and returned to a new job and a new home. During the next year, your life changed even more. Your best friend had gotten married and moved to New York for a job offer. Her parents retired and spent most of their time traveling. Sometimes your anxiety would seep back into your body, especially since your life felt like it was in a constant flux, but you had it under control. You knew it was only natural to feel this way after experiencing a trauma. And you knew what to do if the day ever came when you had to face this monster head-on.
Your trip to FedEx took a little longer than expected. The employee seemed annoyed that you had come to pick up the package early, but you told him that you were under “boss’ orders.” You went back to work and finished the rest of the day on a good note. Grace invited you out for drinks after work. You almost agreed to go, but decided against it.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first two abandoned warehouses were empty. Sam and Dean were making their way around town, checking out each place on their list. The next one was the djinn’s original place, though. Sam became restless and anxious, fidgeting with his shirt, tapping his fingers on the inside of the Impala’s door. Dean kept his focus on the road. It wasn’t a long drive to this warehouse. It was located in the downtown area of the city, surrounded by other dingy looking buildings. The air was cool and the moon shone bright in the sky, just like last time. Sam took in a sharp breath of air as they approached the warehouse. He became visibly nervous as they began walking to the door. Memories of finding you here, hanging lifeless by your hands from ropes tied to the rafters, your skin ashy white and your head hanging limp, flooded Sam’s mind.
“Dude, what is up with you tonight? Are you sure you’re up for this?” Dean questioned.
“I- yeah, I just have a weird feeling about this place,” Sam answered as they pushed the creaky door open and stepped inside.
Their eyes took a minute to adjust, the moonlit sky outside a sharp contrast to the darkness inside. They got out their flashlights and began their search. The floorboards creaked and protested underneath their feet, the sounds of mice scurrying in the dark could be heard. Moonlight peered through brief holes in the wall, showing how much dust and decay was drifting down from the ceiling. Sam came upon the hall that led to the room where he found you last. He paused, took a deep breath, and started towards the door. He slowly and hesitantly pushed it open while holding a gun in one hand.
“Dean come here!” Sam shouted. Dean sprinted at the sound of Sam’s alarmed voice.
Catherine was there. She looked just like you did when he found you. Sam quickly ran over to cut her down. Dean looked around the room, watching for the djinn. He spotted a wall littered with papers and pictures that looked much newer than the building they were in. Dean went closer to inspect the collage.
“Sam, come here. This is weird.”
Sam was already calling 911. He finished the call and gently laid Catherine down. He walked over to where Dean was standing. Pictures of all the women who had been abducted were taped haphazardly to the wall. Tidbits of scribbled information were scattered in spaces between the photos. And then Sam saw it. Circled and placed directly in the center. Your address.
“Dean, we need to go. Now.”
Almost as if on cue, sirens could be heard in the distance. Thankfully the ambulances responded unusually quickly this time.
“Ok, just stay here with the girl while I go out to the paramedics. We’ll go as soon as they take her,” Dean said, puzzled by Sam’s reaction. He could tell Sam was being serious, though, and he trusted his brother’s instincts.
Dean showed his badge to the EMTs and explained that they were FBI agents working on the kidnapping case. He told them they had to leave because the suspect was on the loose. He showed them to the room where Sam was kneeling down beside Catherine, making sure she was ok. As soon as the paramedics reached her, Sam got up and bolted straight through the door, his eyes staring only straight ahead. Dean ran after him and they got into the car.
“We need to to that address right now. And fast,” Sam said while gripping the inside of the Impala, his knuckles turning white.
Starting up the engine, Dean said, “Ok, can you just tell me what’s going on? I’ve never seen you leave a victim that fast.”
“I’ll explain later. Just drive.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part of you wished you had gone with Grace and some other coworkers to the bar, but you weren’t really sure about making friends with them. And you had a few things to do around the house. And a new episode of your favorite show was on tonight. Maybe those were excuses for not wanting to be social, maybe they were legitimate reasons, but, whatever they were, for now you were content to stay at home. Long hours at the office, constantly talking on the phone and discussing work, drained you anyway. Once you were home, you changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and a t-shirt and began to check items off your to-do list. Clean out old leftovers: check. Take the trash out to the curb: Check. Go through the mail and file away anything important: Check.
You threw a frozen pizza into the oven and grabbed a wine glass out of cabinet. Super classy, you thought, grocery store wine and a frozen pizza. But you enjoyed it. You had finished your housework just in time to watch your show. Pouring the wine, you looked out the window above your counter. You had some doubts about your life lately. You wondered if all the stability you had built up around yourself was just a facade. You felt an uneasiness in your stomach as you thought that, at any moment, it could all come crashing down. What if… You shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of this endless waterfall of thoughts. You sat on the couch again to watch your show, kicking off your shoes. During a commercial break, you checked on dinner. Not ready yet. Your show came back on, so you left the kitchen. You sat there, content for the time being although your stomach was nagging you for dinner.
Then you heard it. A noise. Was it the tv? No, it sounded too close. You paused the show, freezing, your hand suspended in mid-air holding the remote, hairs standing up on your neck, muscles tensed.
Silence.
You heard it again, like someone trying to jimmy open a window. You set the remote on the couch and slowly tiptoed to your room at the end of the dark hall, past the bathroom where you could clearly hear someone trying to open the window. The alarm. You forgot to set it for the night. Crap. Your cell phone. Sitting on the couch. You opened the closet door and reached up to the shelf, grabbing your gun. You soundlessly slipped the clip in.
No. No. No. No. No. NO. This- can’t be- happening- again. Your thoughts in rhythm with your breaths. Pull yourself together. Sweat was on your palms, adrenaline in your veins. Your beating heart was like a drum in your head, thumping like an ominous drum roll working up to the crescendo of an attacker. Clink. The now useless lock on the bathroom window hit the tile. Two footsteps hit the floor. Creaking. The bathroom door slowly swung open. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths. Just like you practiced. Just like you practiced. The gun was steadied. Hand on the trigger. You opened your eyes. Two glowing blue orbs danced down the hall towards you. A smile slowly revealed in the moonlight through a window gave way to the full image of him.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
No hesitation. Your aim was true. Three bullets hit him right where they should. Except…What? No! How is that possible? It didn’t phase him. He continued his advance.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Impala squealed to a stop outside of your house.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Dean and Sam’s heads jerked towards the house then towards each other. They flew out of the car, sprinting to your door. Dean wasted no time in kicking it open. Knives in hand, they scanned your living room. Crash. Was that glass? “Y/N!” Sam yelled out. Dean had no time to question how Sam knew your name. They were already down the hall. They stopped. Their eyes followed the scene through the doorway. You were fighting.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You fell backwards into a mirror, shattering it. 
No. This wasn’t going to be it. Did someone call your name? 
The man was closing in on you again. You pushed yourself off the wall. 
You were ending this. Somehow. 
You threw a punch. 
Surprise, jerk. 
The monster wiped blood off his nose, shocked but amused. Your martial arts training kicked in. You blocked his hits. 
Yeah. Gotta get in another hit. Ah! 
You drew in air as your foot stepped on a piece of broken glass. A distraction. 
Wham. 
Your back slammed into the wall again, then your head. 
What the…
Your eyes opened barely enough to see your attacker thump to the ground lifeless, a tall figure looming over him. 
“Y/N!” 
Yeah... someone had definitely called your name…
Darkness.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sam carried you out of the room and laid you on the couch, checking you for any serious cuts.
“Dean, find some bandages or something. Her foot is cut,” Sam ordered.
There would be time for questions soon. Dean rummaged through your kitchen drawers. Having no luck, he headed to the bathroom next. Success. He handed the bandages and some hydrogen peroxide to Sam. Sam began to clean your wound and bandage it. He propped your foot up on a couple pillows to help slow the bleeding. He released a stream of air through rounded lips. You were ok.
“What is that smell…” Dean said as him and Sam glanced around the house. Smoke was hazing in from the kitchen. Sam ran into the room. The oven was on and inside was your burnt pizza. Sam quickly turned the oven off and took out the blackened food, coughing and waving smoke from his face. He went back into the living room, stoic, but tensed.
“She was cooking a pizza,” Sam said, unconcerned about the charred food, fully fixated on you.
Dean nodded and then began to question Sam. Enough was enough. “Sam, do you mind telling me what’s going on here? You know this girl?”
Sam relaxed his shoulders and looked up at Dean, “Yeah, I do.”
“Ok…do you mind enlightening me on how exactly you know her?”
“I…She was one of the women from the last case. I found her in the warehouse, just like Catherine.”
“And you didn’t tell me this because…?”
“I was trying to protect her. I didn’t want to drag her back into this mess.”
Dean didn’t say what he was thinking. Sam already knew it. The look was plastered on his face. This could have been prevented if Sam came to protect you sooner.
You moaned. Sam rushed to your side. Dean watched closely, analyzing his brother’s actions as he got onto his knees so he could be closer to your eye level.
“Sam…I don’t, I don’t understand…why…what…who is that?” Your vision was adjusting, your head pounded. Everything was confusing.
“This is my brother, Dean,” Sam said as he stroked hair out of your face, “We were tracking the djinn. He- it was hunting you. We got here just in time.”
“You know, I had it handled,” you joked, smiling playfully as you became oriented again.
Sam’s head bowed as he grinned. He didn’t know you could be so sarcastic, but he liked it. Oh, how you had missed his smile.
Dean observed you two, noticing how Sam was attentive to your every word, how he never broke gaze with you. He saw how you relaxed in his presence, how you talked to him as if you had known him your entire life. Dean’s stomach dropped. This was going to be a hard case to leave. Better not prolong the inevitable then.
Sam was reassuring you, “You’re safe now, ok? He’s not coming-”
Dean cleared his throat. “I hate to break up this reunion, but Sam, it’s late and we should get back to the motel to pack up.”
Sam’s smile faded, his hands dropped. He stood up.
“You’re going to be ok. Your foot should-” he began.
“Wait, what? You guys are just going to up and leave after all of this?” you demanded to know, looking from Dean to Sam. You had gained full consciousness again and, in that moment, something inside of you was resurrected, a drive, a push. You hadn’t felt this spark since before your mom died. You had become content, placid, stagnant. You suddenly were sick of it. You didn’t understand everything that had happened, you barely knew these people standing in your living room, but there was absolutely no way you were letting them waltz out of your life without a decent explanation. And Sam, you knew something was there between the two of you. What it was, what it could’ve been, you didn’t know. But you were determined to make something out of it now. You had a second chance.
Sam looked at his feet, “It’s better if we don’t stick around…”
“Bull. You can’t just storm in here, kill a man, a monster, whatever it is, and then leave me like nothing happened. I want an explanation!” You were almost shouting. Dean raised his eyebrows, impressed at your audacity.
“Well, what would you like to know then, sweetheart?” he said, trying not to grin.
You should’ve thought this through. What would you ask first? Questions swam in your head.
“I want to know if…if you guys would like to go out to eat?” You had no idea what compelled you to say that, but you rolled with it. You were feeling a bit reckless after tonight’s brawl and your emotions were in flux because of Sam.
“You what?” Sam asked, pleasantly surprised.
“You heard me.”
Dean tried to argue, “Look, we can talk here right now-”
“No,” you interrupted, “I’m starving. I’ve been through a lot. I’m sure you guys need something to eat too. Besides, I don’t think my pizza is any good anymore.” You signaled towards the kitchen.
Sam smirked, Dean rolled his eyes, but relented.
“Fine,” he huffed, “Dinner and then we’re done. But I’m picking the place.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So, why didn’t my bullets stop this thing?” you said, looking at Sam with a mouth full of food.
“Djinn have to be killed in a particular way. Most creatures do. For a djinn, it’s a knife dipped in lamb’s blood,” Sam explained
“So I really didn’t have it handled back there?” You laughed, attempting to muffle the thought that you might not have actually made it out of alive.
“Well, you were doing pretty good,” Sam encouraged you, noticing the slight falter in your tone, “I didn’t know you could fight.”
“I learned how to, after, you know, everything that happened.”
Sam’s face softened with sadness, his eyes looking at you with sincere concern, but he and Dean were both taken with your determination.
“So, any more questions?” Dean asked you, eager to get on the road and put this all behind him and Sammy. It was probably going to be even harder for him to leave you now.
“I think that’s all. Thanks for sticking around,” you smiled although you knew this all was about to end. Sam was about to leave your life again.
Dean took one last drink and set his cup on the table then slid out of the booth. Sam followed. You stood up, facing them, not sure what to do next.
“Well, kiddo, stay safe. Although I’m sure if anyone tries anything, you’ll know how to handle it,” Dean said to you. You smiled in return, nodding in agreement.
You turned to Sam. What could possibly be said now, in this moment? He took you by surprise and wrapped his arms around you. You tensed up at first, but relaxed into his impromptu embrace. You rested your head on his chest. He was so much taller than you. You hadn’t realized it until now. He kissed the top of your head lightly.
“Stay safe, ok?”
“I will.”
His arms slowly fell to his sides, brushing along yours as they lowered. The two brothers walked away. You stood there and watched them leave, you were watching Sam walk out of your life again, just like the last time. You felt more like a spectator than a participant. But now you were being torn in all directions, you felt a pounding inside your chest, your brain and heart at war. What was here for you? A job you hated. Acquaintances you never went out with. A lonely, achingly silent house.
You bolted out the door, just in time to see Sam pulling his legs into the Impala, “Wait!”
He paused then got out of the car. Dean turned to look at you then followed Sam’s lead. You ran, stopping by the door.
“Take me with you.”
Sam’s face twisted in heartache, confusion, and hopefulness.
“Whoah, whoah whoah,” Dean protested, “Not gonna happen.”
You felt like the air had just been sucked from your lungs. This had been a big, embarrassing mistake.
“Why- why not?” Your voice was small and weak now.
“Because this life isn’t pretty. You don’t know the first thing about what it takes to do what we do,” Dean answered. His tone showed no mercy.
“Then show me, teach me. I’m a fast learner. You saw me back there, I can fight.”
“It takes a lot more than that.”
You turned to Sam now.
“Y/N, this isn’t the kind of life you want. It’s dangerous. It’s hard. Just…go back to your house, to your family, your friends. It’s better that way,” Sam answered.
You began to let tears fall down your face. “No!” you were shouting now, “My life is- it’s nothing right now! I hate my job, I don’t have friends, my family moved away. I don’t do anything! You know, my life felt apart after you left, Sam. I was crippled by my memories of that monster. The only thing that got me through was imagining it dead. And remembering you. You know, I think about the last time I saw you all the time. And now I’m here and the monster’s dead and your back in my life and I…and I…” You were sobbing now, the weight of the night’s events and the uncertainty of the future weighing on you.
Then you felt Sam’s warm embrace again. You cried into his shirt.
“Please don’t go…”
Sam turned his head to look at Dean. Dean was unrelenting.
“Dean…”
“Don’t even suggest it, Sam. We know this is for the best.”
You spoke up again, taking your face out of Sam’s shirt, “Look, I- I’m not asking for some permanent place in your life, but I need to get out of here. You said there’s monsters out there everywhere, right? Well why can’t I help fight them too? I want to stop them from doing to other people what they did to me. If it doesn’t work out, then fine. I just, I need a chance.”
Dean, noticing Sam’s resolve crumbling away, said, "Sam, you can't possibly be thinking this is ok."
"I don't know, Dean. You saw her back at her house. She can handle herself. Maybe it won't work out, but..."
"You have to try." Dean understood what Sam meant, he understood his need for something other than this life. Dean was divided. He wanted his brother to be happy, but he knew it would probably end badly just like it had in the past. But Dean sort of liked you, too. You were funny, tough, honest. You had potential. Besides, any girl who could eat as much as he could could hang with him any day. So, for Sam, he took a chance.
"Look, I'm not promising some permanent living arrangement here, but if you want a taste of hunting, you can have it."
You felt a warm elation spread throughout your body and a sense of thrill flutter in your stomach. Finally, for the first time since your mother died, since your world was turned upside down for a second time, you felt like you were going somewhere. Sam and you looked into each other's eyes, grinning wildly and you let a giggle escape your lips. What would happen in these next few weeks, you didn't know. Hunting would be the most difficult thing you’ve ever done, but you knew you had a chance for a different life. A life with purpose. A life with Sam.
41 notes · View notes
nicoletteduclare · 6 years
Text
That... that was a full flower in Maxwell's hand. In terms of things he would expect someone to hack up while in the throws of this affliction, Wilson was not expecting a flower with roots and all.
If it wasn't for the snow on the ground, he'd make Maxwell sit so he could check his throat, was this the reason he'd been unable to talk all morning? His eyes darted to Max and back down to the plant. Wilson's stomach twisted at the thought of his first reaction to his sudden inability to talk. The silent treatment. Of course it wasn't that.  
"This... hasn't happened before, has it?" He asked quietly, looking back up to Maxwell, who was entirely focused on the flower. It took a second for that to register, before Max shook his head. So, it hadn't happened before, usually Max had managed to die before this.
That... was somewhat horrifying. He'd never heard of the true extent of the disease, and had assumed that his aunt must of been choking like Maxwell was. Wilson barely worried about the blood and picked it up, looking at the roots. There was flesh sticking to them like dirt would if you pulled the flower straight up from the ground.
That was utterly sickening to think about. A flower buried in the flesh of someone's throat or windpipe or worse, the lungs. No wonder this disease was a death sentence.
To distract himself from the reality of this, Wilson delicately put the flower back into Maxwell's hands and gave a shaky smile, more akin to a grimace then a smile, but an attempt at something comforting all the same. "At least you can't choke on this one now." A false bit of comfort, but at least it's out, Wilson figured.
The roots aren't too severe either, so hopefully his throat is repairable. Some honey and maybe instead of wildflower, mandrake tea with it to recover his throat and put him out for the night would be good if they get back to camp. And Wilson would love to be able to scrub this memory from his mind the way that deaths are faded and half there, or not there at all, because Maxwell looks... well, he's pale, even the shade of red his cheeks turned in the cold has become washed out. His hand is shaking, and he can't look away from that damned flower.
It's fear. Maxwell looks honestly and truly scared and frankly, Wilson hasn't ever seen it so clear on Max before. He pressed a hand to Max's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Look, we need to keep moving. Once we get to camp, I'll take a look at your throat." Maxwell looked away from him and the flower and Wilson tried to backtrack, "Or, Wickerbottom can help you. I just..." He trailed off. There was no good way to end that without sounding desperate. "Don't want to see you die like that again." There. That wasn't a really awkward way to finish that statement. It was horrifying the first time, the blue tinge of suffocation, blood...
He didn't need to relive that. It wasn't often that there was a time any of them actually had watched someone die. Battles were distracting, it was often he was able to pay attention to someone in their death throws, and if it wasn't death from a fight, then it was highly likely they all were suffering and it was a quiet, painful thing that no one could help with. If help could be given, it was highly likely they wouldn't die.
The only time he could really remember just standing back and watching was when he'd put the Divining Rod into the keyhole, but that was... intensely different. He'd still been extremely angry, hurt at the false friendship and companionship his dear 'voice on the radio' had faked, and there'd been sick satisfaction underneath the pity for the reality of Maxwell's existence. He'd done enough mercy by turning off the gramophone, which was more of a selfish act, the ragtime tune was annoying enough after just one or two repeats. Then Wilson watched Max die the first time with cold eyes until shadows pulled him under and onto the throne.
He shook his head, getting rid of the memory, and tapped Max's shoulder, the man still not looking at him. "Come on, let's get moving before we freeze to death. We'll get your throat patched up and we can both get some sleep." There was a silent nod, their eyes barely meeting, the bloody flower dropped into the snow. He wanted to do something, watching Max slowly trudge forward, but what could he possibly do right now? Everything feasible... involved getting back to camp. - There was shame as he looked away at the offer of checking on his throat, god, why did he need this. He wanted to just tell Wilson to give up, there wasn't any point to this. But even more shamefully, he wanted the attention too. How pathetic.
Could something just kill him now? His face burned at the bare minimum admittance of not wanting to see him die again. Of course any sane human being would rather not see any of their companions die. And yet that little scrap was enough to make his cheeks look terribly windburned.
After the tap to his shoulder reminding him they had places to be, he let the bloody flower drop to the snow and managed to trudge forward. Minus a few coughing fits, there was still a strange silence between them as they approached camp, even in the calf deep snow, he could still see bush branches picked clean of berries.
To be fair, the silence was half due to his own throat, but he'd have liked something still. Even just the noise of Wilson muttering to himself about things; there was that habit too. Talking to himself, a whole conversation out of one person.
Instead, their walk, which ended just as dusk began, was as muted as everything else in the snow covered world.
The first words he's heard since their conversation out in the snow was of course, "Hey, you found ol' tall nerd!" Willow smirked, arms full of wood for a fire that was starting to wane in the distance.
"Yeah, I sure did." Wilson's voice has forced humor in it, and Max frowned, looking away from them both. "We got caught out in that storm last night... I think we both just need some sleep, you know?" He gives a forced chuckle and Max closed his eyes, ignoring the growing knot in his guts.
"Is something eating Maxwell, or has he finally learned to not inject a smart comment every time he's near a conversation?"
He tried to respond with 'A skill you need to learn, certainly.' But he barely makes a noise before wincing, time hadn't helped his throat.
"Leave him be, Willow, he's not feeling well." Wilson's defense softens the frown, and then Wilson turns back to Max, startling him, but Wilson gives half a smile. "We're both really tired, anyway." He turned back to Willow. "Have all the other tents been taken over yet, or is one still available for Max to use?"
Willow snorts and shakes her head, possible disbelief, or just that there isn't a free tent. "Yeah, yeah, you know we've had the extra tent up in case he showed back up. Go sleep, you both look dead." It's a fairly tame reaction, and there's suddenly a warm arm around his back, moving him towards the bank of tents.
"Thanks, Willow. Have a good night."
"A good night? I'm on a watch shift that's suppose to be yours." Willow laughs. "I'll see you in the morning." Wilson softly laughs at her words, and there's a quiet thank you from him as they end up out of her earshot.
Wilson looks up, "Look, you settle in and I'll see if there's any mandrakes... if not, I'll make you some wildflower tea with honey." Max can't help the shake of his head, he doesn't need the fussing over him. "Don't give me that, you can barely make a noise without wincing. Let me help you with this, please." There's a stress on the please that makes his shoulders sag and Maxwell sighs, nodding along, the shame back as Wilson gave a tiny smile and patted his back before leaving for the crock-pots and food stash.
It's obvious which of the tents is the extra one, there's still snow at the entrance, instead of it being beaten down or shoveled away. Still, it's better then a straw roll, and in the dim light of the setting sun and the faint firelight, Max shoves the snow away from the entrance of the tent with his foot and he finally crawls in. There's a fur roll, and a lantern. He shoves off his pack and sits, exhaling and glancing around.
It's odd to be back in camp. It's also incredibly weird to hear the muted rabble, but it's soothing too, it's not just the slight chatter of birds, nor the empty silence of the caves.
Maxwell finally moves to spread out the fur roll and peels off his outer layers, the hat bringing the flower crown with it as he started to cough, wincing as he looked at the small handful of bloody petals, throat practically throbbing with pain. Still, wouldn't do to bleed over his bed, and he uses his clean hand to pull some of the used paper out of his bag and wraps the petals and wipes most of the blood off of his hand.
5 notes · View notes
hornedwyvern · 7 years
Text
Dew Drops in March ❈ Chapter 4
Hey there! Final Chapter of ‘Dew Drops in March’. It’s sequel “Promise of Spring Roses” will soon follow which will be Chise and Elias’ wedding as well some other surprises and dabbles I can picture these two getting into. I’m glad you guys like this and make sure to check out my other work as well on Ao3. Enjoy ~
Word Count: 5,202
Chapter 1 ❈ 
Chapter 2 ❈
Chapter 3 ❈
A budding Spring morning rolled over the lush hill sides of Britain. A cock welcomed the entrance of the sun, cawing it’s irritating cries to all around them. Soon the world began to emerge from the long night; sun peeking into the windows of Elias and Chise’s tranquil home. Beams of dim light crept into their shared room and among the bed both bodies slept upon, Ruth at the end with his doggish body curled into a croissant shape. Chise laid to the right and Elias to the left, on his back of course.
The intrusion of light made Chise’s eyes flutter open, Silky’s footsteps already active along the corridors beside their room.  She considered herself as a early riser, especially to the other whom shared the bed next to her, his breaths low but just loud enough to hear. But in the mornings like this she would fade in and out of waking up, gazing around the bland boards of the ceiling; it was the perfect time to get lost into her own thoughts. Usually about the future or things that bothered her. Today she really couldn’t remember what she thought about. It wasn’t very important. 
Chise laid on her back with eyes wide open, her hair spread like veins on top of the downy white pillow beneath her. Elias was close enough to feel the radiating heat from his broad body. The mage really enjoyed sleeping out of most things, he was always bothersome to wake up or rise early. Chise flipped her body onto her side, grasping the fabric of his blue and white striped sleeping shirt. He was warm, his breath making the shoulders of his back lazily bob up and down. This didn’t even cause a stir, he was like a rock. 
‘Good Morning, Chise.’ A voice echoed in her head, it was Ruth. He didn’t want to wake Elias up. Their bodies were sync and both awoke at the same time. But the fae laid without a motion, as if he was still asleep.
She was able to see Ruth’s onyx furred hips from where she laid, he favored her side of the bed because he’d be met with Elias’ feet if he sprawled out too much when they slept.  
“Good Morning, Ruth.” She replied.
Chise held her hand around where Elias’ arm met his shoulder. Cuddling was bit a difficult when your partner couldn’t lie on their back; they just had to make due. Her body laid close to his side, nuzzling the clothed skin of his underarm. His scent never changed, still reminding her of black tea and sandalwood. Elias didn’t falter aside the more larger inhale of breath, it was just too early for Chise just yet, she laid there for another good twenty minutes or so until the arm she held onto dearly swooped her in. 
Weight laid on her chest, hands wrapped around her side and a coolness of bone pressed aside the nakedness of her neck and collar. She’d been half way asleep when it happened, tired eyes faded in and out to examine what happened; Chise saw the rusty brown color of Elias’ spiral horns above her, his face laid beside her’s. His arms protected her sweetly, warmth mingling between them. 
“Morning..” Chise’s tired voice whispered. “How long have you been up?”
The mage just grumbled, a vibration reverberating from his throat and chest. Chise could feel it on her sternum. At least he was awake but might take another hour to get him up and dressed. Spring had shown it’s face and there was lots of work to be done around here, customers would be flooding in now with all the change of the season and allergies. She wasn’t looking forward to it but that was just the fact of the Spring months. 
Delicate and gentle hands traced the figure of Elias’ skull. Curving around his eyes, cheek bones and where his head and horns met. She found this brought him a lot of comfort when they laid like this most mornings. Petting him lovingly, his thumbs and fingers stroking the small of her back. It usually sent him soon back to sleep and her ending up with a dead weight on her chest. The sounds of his sleep soaked voice started to arise again. A amused sigh fled from the Sleigh Beggy’s lungs. 
It took about twenty more minutes to get him off of her, he protested claiming that she was warm and having the nicest dream but they were wasting day light,  Chise hazed him for being such a sleep-in. Elias was half awake as he watched Chise pull pieces of clothing from their closet. In the time span of a year she’d moved in fully to his bed room. 
Bleak before with nothing more than a few pieces of furniture a few months ago was now transformed into almost a garden. Plants among different herbs littered the window sill and they gained another bedside table for her side. The blankets were even changed so there was a few more as well with soft mis matching pillows. Traces of Chise found their way in here, Elias was utmost happy to have it – as long she kept her messes to a minimum. 
Elias had fallen back asleep until he felt a strong nudge to his shoulder, almost pushing him onto his side.
“Up. Now.” Her very familiar voice chiding him. The fresh lavender smell of her washed body was very captivating. 
Fine it was time any way. Mentions of breakfast piqued him to quickly get dressed any way. 
Chise had grabbed a few provisions to bring down stairs from her old bedroom which was now a spare bedroom/office for her to keep the things  she wanted to keep separated from Elias. Elias’ tall figure emerged from the hall where they met up in the middle.
“Good Morning.” Chise said relieved he was awake, pecking the place on his muzzle where his lips would be, stretching on her tippy-toes
“Good morning.” He parroted, a dim rapturous expression flickering the red of his eyes. He met her kiss so she didn’t have to strain. This had become normal morning procedure, one they both took much joy in. The last few weeks they’d really been acting like something new, like a couple almost. Even Simon mentioned it when he’d stopped by a few days ago. They were caught with their hands on top of each other as they sat side by side.
Ruth beckoned from the base of the stairs in his true form, the stern look on his face would have been as usual if his tail wasn’t wagging. Silky had finished breakfast and he wanted to start soon as possible. 
Breakfast went per as usual. Silky’s cooking was always top notch and everyone felt full and ready for the day. They talked of what they do for the day, ideas for the future and just idle chatter in general. Chise plotted to begin seeding some of the herbs in small pots then follow by checking the garden for any weeds or mistakes they had made a week prior. Elias stated he’d be checking out some old scrolls and up in his study. It was simple but they thoroughly enjoyed their life of peace. The quiet was all Chise had been wanting the last few years, everything had felt so loud and in her face. Her heart felt steady here with Elias. 
-
Chise had dawned a apron and gloves for tending to their garden, she sought the soil for potting plants and sprinkling seeds in the deep rich earth she’d borrowed from the garden after they had prepared it from the spring growth. There was plenty to do; the lavender plants, rosemary, thyme, basil, ginseng, milk thistle. Chise make sure to take tender care of each one, checking for other plants in the green house and their growth as well. 
Ruth was always close. The scent of fresh dug earth was a distasteful scent to his nose but he watched with unwavering eyes beside Chise. Lovingly planting the seeds and sealing it with a gracious amount of water; just enough so not to drown it. Even in Spring months the Greenhouse became warm, as she wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, a streak of dirt went along with it. Along with the herbs she'd managed to plant a collection of flowers. They were always a welcome sight around the house and garden. Poppies were a must, along with Dog's Mercury and Snowdrops. As she embedded the last of the seeds when the screen door of the Green House opened up by it's self. Chise's Aerial and company zipped through.
“Robinn-- ~”  Their esoteric voices chimed. Ruth sat up, sitting close next to Chise. 
“What are you doing?” The most familiar out of the three with hair like a wind blown willows and deep crimson eyes perched herself on top of Chise’s head. The ginger fibers twiddling between her childlike fingers, grasping them tight as she moved; she took in a deep inhale of her honey-like scent. Their precious robin and all her wonders. She was absolutely intoxicating. 
“Little gardening. Are you planning to help?” The question was rhetorical, she continued to work even as the others caused mischief among the potted plants and tools. One scowered the grown leaves of a vine plant that coated the wall the other sought for her like a game of hide and seek. Ruth kept a wary eye, wild fae -- like aerials could still not be fully trusted in his book. Even after knowing these ones in particularly for so long, Chise paid no mine. 
“Yeah right! I just wanted to come talk to you.” The fae spoke with artful intent.
“Oh? About what?” By now Chise started to move to the outside garden, she’d finished up watering the last of the potted plants and stepped outside. The other fae including Ruth followed her through the screen door. 
Their garden was fresh, newly plotted with plants to have for the spring. Soon there would be many delectable fruits and vegetables that would last them all the way until late summer. She’d spent the whole time with Elias, magic never could beat old-fashion hard labor. It helped in some cases but they spent until dawn til dusk getting it ready. Even if she suffered from blistered hands and a sun burns, it was actually a pretty fun day. Chise began to douse the budding seedlings with freshly pumped water from the spout behind the green house. 
“About how that prickly old thorn is acting funny. Do you know why?” They prodded at the spaces between Chise’s bangs. 
“Acting funny?” She stopped what she was doing, looking at the Aerial above her, the cold watering pail between her gloved hands. 
“You out of all people should know. You’re in love with him.” They snickered, gliding down from her head and floating beside her. A impish grin along their beryl tinted skin and rosy pink cheeks. Their was something that intimidated Chise about their usual playful expressions. Maybe it was just that fae were always unexpecting, you never knew if they were genuinely happy, angry or sad. She stared straight back at the aerial, unwavering. 
“That is true. He does seem a bit off but he does this from time to time.” Chise shrugged her shoulders, attempting to go back to working. “Getting him to open up is not the easiest task. I usually let him come to me if it is not effecting us immediately.”
“Maybe it’s because he’s seeing someone else other than you or wants you to leave?” The words stopped Chise, she almost wanted to laugh viciously but just turned with a simplistic amused look. Like that would ever happen. It was possible but she had a feeling she’d know if so. 
“You and I both know that isn’t true. How long did it take him to even bring me here? As well I’ve already been back here for a year. Your words are so harsh.” Chise’s entertained response resulted in another laugh from the merry neighbor. “If he wanted to be with someone else, then I would let him do that. It is as long as he is happy. Everyone deserves to be happy.” 
“You're right. Thorn only cares for one person. How interesting some young children can be now a day.” Their wings fluttered in the cool March air, an breeze blowing through their windy hair. Soon they found their home again at Chise’s shoulder.
“Would you be sad if he wanted to be with someone else?” Their eyes fixated on Chise.
“I would be.. “ The sleigh beggy had to think for a moment. About a life with Elias and his affections for another. They had started on the second row when she finally opened her mouth. “I would be upset. It would hurt but nobody deserves to be held down in order to not hurt another’s feelings. Time heals all wounds.” 
The fae hummed a wondering sound. 
“Well! What if he’s maybe he is planning to marry you instead.” Saying it directly into her ear, the water beneath them dampening the tilled earth. Some of the plants were already starting to peek their heads out. 
“He’s been planning that for the last 19 years.” Chise’s words were bleak but it was true to her knowledge.
“No! I mean for real this time!” The aerial started to get close to Chise’s ear, cupping her hands beside her mouth. “I saw --” 
“Chise.” A profound drew her attention. The neighbor at her side peeking from behind her cheek.
“Ah! Thorn Mage!” They gasped, a wide smile on their face. Elias stood at the edge of the farmed plot, his cloak like cursive amidst the spring zephyr. How long had he been eavesdropping in the shadows? Chise stepped over the mounds towards him in her smokey grey knee high galoshes. He looked over her unclean presence with a paternal stare. 
“It’s tea time.” Elias stated, pulling out a handkerchief from the side of his coat. Graciously, Chise cleaned her face of the dirt and sweat with the pearl and golden sewn cloth that had initialed ‘E. A.’ into the bottom corner of it. It was a shame to taint it. “You’re filthy, why don’t you wash up and we’ll have it out side. It’s a lovely day.” 
“That’s a good idea.” Chise had dotted the sweat of her fore head, her bangs a mess above her knuckles. 
Ruth; whom had been the victim of the other aerials’ interest found small pieces of flower petals and nice leaves in the bulk of his crown’s fur. Lovingly they sat upon him, doting with honeysuckle words and compliments. It was when Chise found herself back into the house that the trio of Fae decided to take their leave. The most familiar finding her chance to whisper into Chise’s ear before fluttering off back into the forest. 
“Mage.” Ruth brought to Elias’ attention, meeting him at the set of white raw-iron chairs and matching glass table. He did his best to brush away any debris that had fallen on it in the past evening. The striding long body of the black dog sitting himself by the chair Chise would sit at. “How long will you wait? Chise is starting to get suspicious.”
It had been since January since he’d purchased the ring. The time had never been right since then.
“I have taken notice to that.” This answer didn’t really please Ruth, his expression went dull. “I will tell her soon.”
“At least have it planned out when you do. You failed last time.” The canine fae let out a wide yawn of frustration.
Silky had brought out a tower of delights per as usual; raspberry and mint scones, sour lemon tarts, dainty finger sandwiches of cucumber and minced roasted garlic chicken. All accompanied by a gentle scent of Jasmine tea with bits of rose and candied apricot in it. Setting beside it a few cups, not long after Chise came back relieved after she’d washed up her face, changing her sweater as well. 
“Looks good.” She was spoiled when came to their food, she gave Silky a warm thank you before the House Sprite returned inside. 
“It does.” Elias had already been sipping at his drink, the taste was sweet even without aid of sugar. Chise copied, filling her china cup with tea and cream. It turned a alluring shade of dim milky orange. The contents being mixed with a tiny metallic spoon, quick sounds of porcelain clicking from side to side. 
Their home lied on a edge of a forest. Pine trees danced in the wind, blowing, swaying back and forth. The sheet that sat behind Elias’ neck rocked along it as well the sleeves and edges of his cloak. He focused on a book he’d brought along to tea time, Chise only admired him from across the table with her warm cup in both of her hands. Her red hair messed up from today’s labor. 
“What are you reading?” She questioned, staring at his gloved hands. 
“The book Ruth had gotten you when we visited London back a month or two ago. The poetry in it is invigorating.” Elias turned a page among his words, his eyes fixated on it’s words. 
“Will you read me one?”   
The Thorn mage sat quiet, he elongated a stare into Chise’s cozy figure. How could he say no to the face that loved him so dearly. Quickly he searched for a poem he had particularly liked. It was her book, she had likely already read it but he still indulged in her request with zero protest. 
“I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine.”
- Pablo Neruda 
Elias breathed a sigh, it stayed quiet between the two of them for a moment. The book laid open against his chest. Chise mingled the words behind her tongue like she’d tasted them. Thinking deeply about what she’d heard.
“Chise.” Words breaking the silence among the natural sounds of nature. 
“Hm?”
“We’ve known each other for such a long time.” With his tender words, their book found it’s place on the glass surface of the table. Ruth inhaled another yawn and sauntered to a comfortable patch of grass on the other side of the table. Truly such a lazy dog at times. 
“You say it like it might be a bad thing.” Chise hummed a quiet laughter. 
“It’s not. I was just admiring how long we have been together. What we have all been through alot. It is really outstanding how much you have affected my life. I can say that it has been the most exciting I ever recall.” His snout breathed in the air, cherishing the clouds as they went by. 
“I’m glad I can do that for you. I can tell I’m my happiest with you and living in England.” Chise smiled as she watched along with him. “Being with you has made my life surely interesting.” 
“I’ve lived for so long, I was hoping that it would never end.” There was something different about his voice today, it was more thoughtful. Green, verdant eyes drifted to the skulled figure infront of her. His posture and expression wistful. 
“I’m not planning on going any where soon, Elias.” By now his obsidian and crimson eyes caught her staring at him, scooting so he faced her bit better.
“Then maybe you’d be willing to stay by my side?” His formal words made Chise face fade blank. Setting down the scone she’d lifted from the tea tower onto her plate.
“Am I not already doing that? I want to be with you, with you here and any where else you want to be.” The Sleigh Beggy’s words came out so smooth but her calm demeanor was broken when he stood up quickly. 
More than a blink’s time, just like how it had been in the study, Elias was now infront of her. 
“E-Elias!” She questioned with a perplex voice. He was kneeling infront of her.
“I’ve been ball up this emotion. No -- these emotions. Ones you have taught me to learn, love and accept. I wouldn’t know any of these things if it wasn’t for you. All my life I have been feeling like I have been asleep and I woke up when I met you. Like I haven’t been living-- It is very confusing and new, yet when I look at you it makes sense. I find myself drawn to you and wanting to accept these feelings any more.” 
They both had to break to take a breath. Ruth was no where to be found around them. Like they were magnets, Chise and Elias’ hands clasped each other.
“Chise, you give my life meaning. The time you were gone felt like a night with no moon. I felt a hollowness I had never felt, even before we met. Each day I wake with the intent to do something great. Something you can be proud of. To wake up beside you and know that it will be a good day.” His words fell on her like weights yet her heart was beating and lifting into the sky. A glossy layer began to coat Chise’s eyes. 
“Uh- .. Uh-- I fe-feel the same!” She managed to sputter out.
“I know .. That some times It takes time for me to say things, I just want to make sure that they sound right and I tell you the correct things before so. This is why it has taken me so long to ask you.” 
“Ask me what?” She prepared for the impact of the words she knew were to come.
“Chise, I want you to be the moon and the sun in my life. I was hoping you could do me the honor of being my wife and companion until the world will end around us. I want to learn everything there is to know about the world with you. To share and hold it, to love and experience it. The father of your children and the mother of mine. There is no one I would ever like to do that with but you. The one person whom I can say..”
He hesitated, Chise held his hands tight as a single droplet fell down the length of her blossoming cheeks. 
“I love you. The feeling is alien but I felt it deep in my heart when I see you every morning, every night .. when I see you.” 
A waterfall of tears streaked down Chise’s face. She tried to summon the words to retaliate his open feelings but instead Elias just wiped the wetness away with his thumbs; cupping her hot face gently. They were tears of utter joy, these had been the words that they had been left unsaid, silent but so loud. Words that they said to each other every time they saw each other, words that had brought her back to him. To hear him finally say it made her emotions trickle down, the waterworks happening naturally. With a unbounded end, Chise loved Elias. 
“Chise Hatori. Please do me the honor of marrying me?” 
Her lips trembled, biting them so she didn’t unleash a unrelenting sob. the Sleigh Beggy only nodded in agreement. This made the red of Elias’ eyes hype up three more shades. 
“You will!?” Questioning it again, Chise had to assure him with another wet faced nod.”T-That’s .. That’s great! I wish to give you this then.” 
The mage pulled from his deep coat pocket a modest cobalt velvet box, it’s insides the ring he’d purchased in London with Ruth. She didn’t make a single sound but only tightly covered her mouth with the palm of her hand. She shot Elias a ‘Is this really for me?’ expression. A nervous chortle escaped through his jaws, her hand was offered to him willingly. 
It slipped on her finger like it was meant to be. Like a rose wrapping it’s vines around it’s perch, the shimmering rouge red extraordinary beside her smooth fair skin. It was utterly perfect, Chise thought. She adored it and the promise that accompanied it. This was their symbol of love and what she shared with Elias. He too adored the trinket on her long digit; feeling the length of her palm on-top of his.
“I love it.. “ Her words came out as a murmur. “I love it, I -- I love you, Elias.” 
Their eyes met, Elias’ mouth agaped as he stared up at her.
“I love you, Elias. I always have. You saved me when I was lost and taught me to live again. I could never thank you more.” Her tears started to dry up but her cheeks puffed and rosy. 
“For you, anything. I think I have always loved you too.” Agreeing quietly, remembering fondly on the day they had met in the auction house. Chise’s young, depressed figure a image burnt in his mind. Now he gazed upon a healthy, older version of that girl who’d transpired into a beautiful woman. One who agreed to marry him 19 years later after he’d asked for her hand in marriage. 
“And I will never stop supporting and caring for you, I can promise you that. I’ll make you as happy as you can be.” 
Chise held her hands out to Elias’ head, he took the advantage to sweep her up. His words echoed like sweet hymns in her ears, it was contagious to smile down at her now husband to be; her hands knit around the contours of his cheek bones. 
“I-- I’m going to do the best I can to make you the happiest husband!” She felt the world spinning around her, Elias’ face the only thing she could possibly focus on. 
“You already have.”
The simplest turn in fate is so gracious. When you hit all time low there is no where but to go up. Each year beside Elias has brought her a bit more forward; she was at the grip of death and he out of all people pulled her away. He who was deemed half-baked, abomination and a beast. She believed for so long she was a cursed, wretched being, when really it was nothing but perfectly blessed and so was he. She couldn't imagine what her life would ever be like with out him, her sun and moon. Even if he was a monster, even if he was stubborn and obliviously rude at some time, the utmost pure love bloomed between them. Chise pulled Elias’ vest towards her.
They kissed and nuzzled each other in the afternoon air, sealing their promise together; Chise’s ring scintillating among the rainbow of wild flowers.
“I love you, Elias.” She repeated again, staring genuinely.
“And I love you.” To her his words were benevolent, he said them so gracefully. 
“Perhaps we should go tell Ruth and Silky.” It was a suggestion even though both fae had been eavesdropping. 
“A pleasant idea.. Though I think they know.” Elias turned his body with Chise wrapped in his arms to show her that they had been peeking through a window. Silky’s lavender eyes completely drenched and watering the potted plants beneath her. Ruth fretted to calm her down but continued to make muted wails of joy.
“Ah-- Silky!” Chise began to nimble her way out of his grasp, frantic to help her sobbing house fairy. Silky rushed outside of the greenhouse and with open embrace to her mistress.
Arms wrapped her tightly, the frilled sleeves of her eggshell and plum dress engulfing her. There was no protest in hugging her back as much as she could. The wetness of her tears were prominent on Chise’s shoulders. It was the happiest she’d ever seen Silky, it was such a becoming emotion on her usual nonchalant self. 
“You lied to me.” Ruth grilled Elias. Still in his original form, he stared up at him with a leer. 
“No lies. I told you I would do it soon.” A glint of playfulness sparked in Elias’ eyes. This made Ruth breath a sigh.
“Chise is very happy. Her energy is spiking. She’s going to tire out soon.” They both watched Silky pulling back her tears, there was alot to be done and to prepare for. 
Once she’d recovered from her outburst after showing off the ring, the house fairy began to tug at Chise’s sleeves. Knowing her she probably had lots of magazines and books on ideas for a wedding. She could already begin to picture the sleigh beggy in a dress made of ivory, embroidery and dried flowers. It almost started her eyes to shed tears again. 
“I - I think it’s time to go inside.” Chise hesitantly called the boys, Elias had complimented about helping him find the ring. They spoke of her happiness along with Elias.
“This was the right time.” he quietly agreed with Ruth.
“Really --” She beckoned a second time. 
“We’re coming.” Elias stated, helping the group clean up. Silky made quick, speedy work so they could start preparing.
“We have a wedding to start planning.” The idea gave both of them a blush across their faces but they found themselves excited. It would surely be a event they would never forget. 
Elias walked Chise inside with his hand at the small of her back. She admired the ring, their most special promise lying on her finger. She drifted her attention to Elias. Her sun, her moon and future husband to be. This had become from a simple today to the best day she could possibly imagine. She was in love and that love had been returned to her. It had been there all along. 
58 notes · View notes