#i asked for feedback and got CRICKETS. twice

[dualitysdownfall]

i wish i could just write fics

[smallp0tatoes]

Affinity [chapter one]

Chapter Two

This story is something I’ve been toying with when I get burnt out on other writing projects. There are about 4 different versions, but this is the most polished. Most of this is set up, so unfortunately there’s no g/t, but I promise it’ll be worth it heheheh

Warnings: swearing, graphic violence (really, like this gets pretty intense toward the end), blood, mentions of death, alcohol

This is my first time posting my writing on tumblr, so I’d appreciate feedback!

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The dull roar inside the bar pounded against Camryn’s brain, adding to her already throbbing headache. She forced herself to focus on the drinks she was pouring, counting down the last minutes of her shift.

“Here you are,” she said over the noise, sliding the glasses across the table to a young couple so wrapped around each other that they didn’t even register her.

“Camryn!”

She glanced over at the closing bartender, who was in the middle of serving up a round of ales. “Kegs just arrived out back. Lawrence asked if you’d help before you leave.”

“Got it,” Cam called back, more than happy to leave the crowded room. She ducked through the flaps to the kitchen and the freight door that let out to the alley behind the bar. Though the sun had set, the air was still comfortably warm: this summer promised to be a hot one. The owner, Lawrence, glanced up from the paperwork he was signing for the driver. He flashed her a bearded grin. “My knight in shining armor,” he said playfully.

She rolled her eyes as she strode over to the truck. “Please. As soon as your back is healed, you’re doing this on your own.” They both knew she didn’t mean it. She’d been helping Lawrence with the kegs before he’d slipped a disc in his back, and she’d be doing it even after he recovered.

“You’re faster at it than I am,” Lawrence argued.

“True.” She stepped onto the liftgate, where the driver had lowered ten full kegs. He came around the truck just in time to see her hoist the first one effortlessly onto her shoulder and stride toward the rack where they were kept. When she returned for the next one, she found him gaping at her. “Those kegs weigh 160 pounds each,” he said.

She just shrugged, but Lawrence laughed. “You must be new. See, our girl Camryn here is secretly Wonder Woman.”

“It’s not a secret if you tell everybody,” Cam told him. Privately, she knew Lawrence was more correct than he realized.

Four months ago, she’d been walking across a crosswalk when a drunk driver struck her at 30 miles per hour. Her body, forced into a life-threatening situation, activated something dormant inside her—something she hadn’t even know existed.

Magic.

After her accident, she’d woken up in the hospital. The doctor who had tended her possessed healing magic. He’d explained to her that magic exists everywhere: for most, it exists quietly, in the form of simple talents. A person who’s a better swimmer, or perhaps even a swimming prodigy. Those who can hear a piece of music once and play it perfectly. Those who seem to always get lucky, despite the odds.

But there were also those who possessed far greater magics. More powerful, that manifested in ways one can grow and control. Some that were, put simply, sorcery. These magics were known as affinities.

Arcane affinities were the most common, and the most versatile. Individuals who could control the elements, manipulate objects, and heal wounds. But there were others as well: wild magic, which included influence over flora and fauna; spiritual magic, which involved communication with spirits; and physical magic, which enhanced the body far beyond that of a normal person.

When that truck had hit her, it had awakened the physical affinity sleeping inside her. All at once, she had obtained superhuman speed, strength, and accelerated healing ability.

She hauled the last of the kegs onto the rack. Lawrence thanked the driver, who was still staring at her in confusion and surprise, and slid the freight door shut. When he turned back to her, his grin was wider than ever.

“You never get tired of that, do you?” Cam asked.

“What do you mean? The way their eyes bug outta their head is hilarious!” He locked the door, guffawing. “Honestly, I don’t know how you’re so nonchalant about it. I mean, those kegs weigh twice as much as you do.”

“Check your math. I’m 140 pounds.”

“Well, they still weigh more,” he grunted. He glanced at the clock. “You’re out, right? Thanks for your help tonight, Cam.”

Despite her headache, she smiled. “No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Careful on your way home.”

Cam had never had a father figure, and while Lawrence was far too young for her to consider him as one, she thought she might have liked to have him as an older brother. After her accident, he’d gone above and beyond to help support her. It was for that reason she was always willing to give him a hand.

She hung up her apron and pushed open the back door of the bar. The alley crickets paused at the sound, but soon resumed their gentle chorus. Cam shuffled down the dark street, rubbing her temples in irritation. Ibuprofen and a hot shower were in her near future.

A ball of green flame the size of a softball roared past her, singing her arm. She leapt away, only for her foot to snag on a pothole. Her head clamored in protest as she landed on her side, and she looked up slowly, already knowing who she’d see.

“Damn, you weren’t even paying attention,” Theo Blackthorn laughed, tossing a second fireball in the air. Its green glow snagged in his long red hair that cascaded down his back in wavy autumn shades. He wore dark jeans, and the top three buttons of his black shirt were open with the sleeves were rolled up. As usual, a single black glove stretched up his right arm to his elbow.

“Get lost, Theo,” Cam snapped, getting to her feet. “I’m not in the mood.”

He smirked, green eyes narrowing. “Ooh, not very friendly tonight.”

Not to you, Cam thought, watching him warily as she took a step back. The fireball flared above Theo’s gloved hand. “That’s too bad,” the mage tutted. “Here I was thinking we could have a little fun.”

The doctor had told her about the battles. Mages going after other mages, for various reasons: good-natured fights to practice and perfect techniques were most common. But there were also those that attacked for power. If a mage with powerful talent defeated another—as in, killed them—they could absorb that mage’s magic. However, as someone with a physical affinity, the doctor told Cam that arcane mages would most likely leave her to her own devices. They couldn’t use or absorb physical magic.

Clearly he had never met Theo.

Only weeks after leaving the hospital, she was out hiking the trails along the lake when the redheaded prick jumped her. The attacks only increased, until she felt like she was dodging his magic every damn week—and she had no clue what he hoped to gain from it.

The second fireball shot through the air, and Cam barely jerked her head back in time to dodge it. Steeling herself against her throbbing head, she glanced around and spotted a large piece of asphalt that had broken free from the pothole she’d tripped over. Two more flames flew toward her, and she dove to the side and grabbed the chunk of gravel and tar.

As Theo summoned more fire, Cam aimed and hurled the asphalt as hard as she could. It spun through the air like a drunk frisbee, and Theo had to bend his knees to duck. Before he could recover, Cam was barreling toward him, curling her fist. The mage’s eyes widened as she bore down on him, and he swept his hand through the air.

The dumpster hit her like a bull, sending her crashing into the alley’s brick wall. Her breath whooshed out of her like a waterfall, and she struggled to regain it as Theo stood once more.

“Damn, that was close,” he laughed, stepping toward her, not even winded from moving the heavy dumpster. “What, you tapping out already?” he asked as she coughed and struggled to her knees.

“Get…lost,” she repeated. Theo stopped six feet away and stared down his nose at her, that greasy smirk plastered on his face. She’d asked him once why he was so keen on trying to kill her. He had laughed. “Kill you? Not at all. You make such a great test subject for my spells.”

“Come on. Maybe this will re-energize you.” Electricity bit into her body, making her go rigid. Theo preferred fire, but electricity was his second favorite. The voltage finally vanished, leaving only Cam’s rage. She leapt to her feet and swung at Theo. Her fist caught his shoulder and sent him flying backward. He crashed into the recycling bins, and Cam took the opportunity to run. She was tense the entire way to her apartment, expecting some other projectile to come hurtling after her, but she reached her building without added injury.

Her apartment sat above a bike shop off of Main Street. It had two bedrooms, with a balcony that faced the lake along which her town was nestled. And it was somewhere that Theo had never, ever followed her to or attacked her at. Even so, she checked her locks before dragging herself to the bathroom. She let the warm glow of electric candles be her light, since they were easier on her throbbing head, and quickly swallowed three Tylenol for good measure. Then she peeled away her work clothes and stepped into the hot, inviting shower.

If she was being honest, pitting herself against Theo was a decent workout. Though she didn’t care much about magic, he allowed her to tap into her body’s newfound potential. But god, he was such an asshole. His spells ranged from annoying to painful. One had turned her hair green; another had left her vomiting for hours. Burns and electrocution were dealt out on whims. He never seemed to care either way: it was all a game to him.

She finally emerged from the shower. As she toweled off her chin-length brown hair, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and hissed. Bruises were already forming across her ribs where the dumpster had rallied her. Despite how quickly her body healed, they’d be sore for the next couple days. She trudged toward her bed, vowing that next time she’d give that Blackthorn a bruise to match.

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Camryn bit into her burrito, groaning with satisfaction. Across from her, Oliver chuckled. “That hungry?”

She nodded and swallowed. “My affinity burns calories like crazy. Does yours not?”

The younger boy shook his head, making his turquoise curls bounce. “Spiritual magic affects my mind more than my body. At most, I’ll get a headache if I use it too much.”

Not long after getting out of the hospital, Cam had been leaving campus late one night when she heard the haunting sound of a violin drifting through the fog. Upon following it, shapes had materialized, as though stepping out of a dream and into reality. They were the statues and sculptures scattered around campus, brought to life. A carved deer with trees for antlers grazed in the flowerbeds; copper butterflies flitting through the night; a woman striding along the sidewalk, her marble-hewn dress flowing like silk. Tendrils of blue, purple and gold twined around all of them, twisting to the sound of the music. At the violin’s source, she’d found Oliver, using his spiritual affinity to appeal to the pieces of soul left behind by the artists. As long as he played, they danced and moved as though they were flesh. It was a beautiful affinity, and she and Oliver had become fast friends.

Now they sat at a table in the campus common room, grabbing lunch before class. The college was located at the mouth of the river where it ran into the lake, and she spotted several students in swimwear walking the short distance to the beach. The water was still chilly, but in the mounting heat of summer she couldn’t fault them for wanting to cool off.

“Seriously? I get hungry whether I bench press a Volvo or not. What a ripoff.”

“I would both love and hate to see you do that.” He got to his feet. “I’m gonna get napkins. Need anything?”

Camryn shook her head, mouth full of delicious burrito. He rolled his eyes and headed for the condiment counter. She was going for another bite when a familiar, velvet voice appeared to her left.

“Goodness. Watching you eat is almost as entertaining as watching you fight.”

She nearly choked and looked up.

Theo stood before her, a binder and stack of papers under his arm. If it hadn’t been for his voice, she wouldn’t have recognized him. He wore a black beanie that somehow managed to contain the entirety of his hair. Only his bangs protruded, giving the illusion that his red hair only sprouted a few inches from his head. Black square framed glasses perched on his nose, and his button-down shirt accentuated his thin build.

An embarrassing number of seconds passed before she realized her mouth was hanging open. “The hell are you doing here?” she finally managed.

He raised a brow. “I work here.”

It made sense—she just hadn’t expected such a normal answer. “Doing what?”

“I teach chemistry and physics.”

“You…” She paused as his words sank in. “You’re a professor?”

Theo held up the staff pass dangling on a lanyard around his neck. “What were you expecting my profession to be?”

She busied herself unscrewing the cap from her water bottle. “I dunno… Reading people’s fortunes, or some bullshit?”

Theo’s smirk widened. “Maybe that’s my side gig.” His eyes suddenly sparked. “Too bad you left so soon the other night. Things were just getting interesting.”

She scowled. “One of these days you’re going to get more than you bargain for.”

“I look forward to it,” he purred. With a final grin, he turned and sauntered off through the common room.

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A few days later, Camryn made him eat those words.

She’d been enjoying a walk along the lake shore, admiring the way the sun dappled across the vibrant blue-green water. It was just outside of town, and the trail down had been blessedly quiet.

Of course, it couldn’t last.

As she squatted at the water’s edge and reached for an interesting-looking rock, a force slammed into her back and sent her sprawling face first into the lake. She jumped to her feet and whirled.

Theo stood atop a rocky outcrop of granite, hands in his pockets. He burst out laughing. “How many times am I going to catch you with your guard down?”

“I shouldn’t have to watch my back every fucking second,” she snapped, pushing her dripping hair out of her face. “Prick.”

“Ooh, name calling now, are we?” He shrugged. “I’ve heard worse.”

“I have no doubt,” she grumbled, wading out of the lake.

He jerked his gloved hand from his pocket, and fire shot from his fingers. Cam had to lunge to avoid it. “Quit it!” she snarled, trying to keep her footing on the shifting rocks.

“Do something about it,” Theo sneered. “Or is that temper just for show?”

She dodged another fireball, and it whizzed past her head and landed in the lake with a sharp hiss. She gritted her teeth and sprinted toward the rocks. Two jumps, and she was at the top.

Still grinning, Theo took a step back—only for his foot to catch on a jutting stone.

That second of unbalance was all Cam needed. She clamped down on his shoulder and dug her fingers into her palm. His green eyes widened, and she slammed her fist across that smug, pretty face.

There was a sickening crunch from his nose, and the force of Cam’s hit snapped his head to the side. He sprawled backwards and landed in a bush.

For a moment, the only sound was her panting. Then Theo hissed and sat up, hand hovering over his face. Blood dripped from his nostrils, as well as a gash across the now-crooked bridge of his nose. He blinked up at Cam with watering eyes.

She smirked. Without a word, she turned and trudged back up the hill.

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The next day, she pushed open the door to the campus library and nearly collided with Theo. He had a coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other. Like the other day, his hair was somehow stuffed up into a beanie.

They both stopped dead. A nasty purple bruise ringed his left eye, and there was a bandage across the bridge of his very obviously crooked nose.

Camryn couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. “Now that’s a good look for you.”

Theo’s lips split in an equally feral smile. “You’re very lucky my hands are full right now.”

She clicked her tongue. “You wouldn’t attack a student on campus, would you Professor?”

He raised an eyebrow. “This is the last week of classes. After that, your luck runs out.” He brushed past her, departing with a purr of, “Enjoy your summer.”

Even his threat couldn’t dampen her glee at the damage she’d done to his face. She flipped him off and ducked into the library.

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It had rained earlier, and the sharp, earthy scent of the forest enveloped Camryn as she hiked along the trail. It was still cloudy, and few boats were out on the lake today. She glanced down the cliffs, where on nicer days people liked to leap into the water below. She’d done it herself: as long as you avoided the part of the cliff that sloped out at the bottom, you could easily land in deep water. Today, however, there were no such thrill seekers.

Something prickled along the back of her neck. Without pausing, she snatched up a broken branch from the ground, spun on her heel and hurtled it at the rocks above the trail.

It flipped through the air, only to slam to a halt. Theo grinned at her, gloved hand raised, and flicked his finger. The stick spun in reverse, far faster than she’d thrown it. Even so, she snatched it out of the air and grinned back at the redhead.

“If you wanted to play catch, I feel like asking would’ve been easier,” she called.

“What do you mean? You’re terrible at catch—you can’t even catch me,” he shot back, jumping down a rock and spreading his arms.

“Really? Your nose is still crooked.”

Theo’s grin turned savage, and both of his palms ignited in green flame. “You’re going to pay for that little trick.”

She sprinted across the trail, keeping her body low as she darted around the fireballs came flying at her. In a random moment of observation, she noticed the flames winked out as soon as they missed her: before they got a chance to land on the forest floor.

Shaking off the distraction, she leaned in, working her way closer. He jumped backward, gaining the high ground as she circled around him.

A green glow enveloped his arm—a spell was coming. Gritting her teeth, she willed strength into her legs and vaulted up into a tree. The green light struck the trunk where she’d just been standing, and the bark sizzled with what looked like acid.

So much for caring about the environment.

“That’s dangerous!” she snapped, leaping to the next tree.

“That’s the point!” he replied.

She leapt forward, catching a thick branch in front of her. Her abs clenched as she swung forward and let go. Gravity and momentum sent her hurtling toward Theo.

The redhead flinched and raised his hand. Then Cam was there, and her feet slammed into his stomach.

She heard his breath whoosh out of him, and he went flying backwards. Right over the…

Crap. The cliffs.

Theo floundered as he began to plummet toward the lake. Camryn had no way of knowing if he’d clear the rocks below.

She swore and ran towards the cliffs, launching into the air. Theo’s eyes widened as she crashed into him and wrapped her arms around his abdomen, letting her momentum carry them both further out over the water. For a moment they were weightless: suspended in air. Ear pressed against his chest, she heard his heart beat faster.

Then they were falling.

“What’re you… Get off!” Theo struggled against her, eyes filled with panic. She opened her mouth to tell him to quit it, when a sudden electric current seized her body. She released Theo, and the voltage vanished seconds before they hit the water.

The electricity left her body tingling all over and numb in some places. As she started to sink, she opened her eyes and looked around. Theo’s mane of red hair was nearby as he flailed his arms, trying to reach the surface.

He can’t swim. Camryn drifted there for a moment, almost in a trance, watching as the mage sank to the bottom. All that power, and he can’t even float.

She kicked her legs and seized Theo by the arms, pushing off the lake bottom.

They broke the surface, gasping and sputtering. Camryn kept one arm around Theo as she swam them toward shallow water.

“What…were you thinking?” she panted, dragging the coughing redhead up onto the beach. “Fucking electrocuting me?” She let go of him and flopped down on her back, legs tingling with numbness.

“I thought you were going to hold me under!”

“I was trying to make sure you didn’t hit the fucking rocks!”

“It’s your fault I went over the cliff in the first place!”

“You’re the one who attacked me, asshole!”

“You could’ve drowned me!”

Cam’s anger flared. She sat up and glared at him. “You wouldn’t have needed my help for that. You can’t swim, can you?”

Theo blinked, and his face reddened. His long hair was plastered to his head, and for the first time, she realized the mage was incredibly scrawny. “That’s not…!”

She jabbed a finger at him. “Idiot! Everyone should know how to swim, especially if they live near water! Figure it out!” She struggled to her feet and headed for the trail, making her way up without stopping.

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For awhile, Theo left her alone. It was nice to be able to hike without being ambushed, but with summer in full swing work kept her busy more than she would have liked. So after a month of work and visiting friends, when she finally had a warm, beautiful day to herself, she donned her swimsuit and headed for her favorite small, secluded stretch of beach. It was hard to get to from the trail, and like today, she was usually the only person on it.

Sunlight glinted off the green ripples of the water. Atop a slab of granite peeking out of the lake, Camryn stretched, basking in the hot summer air. Taking a deep breath, she dove from the rock and plunged into the beautiful water. She let herself drift down and opened her eyes. The water was remarkably clear, and she felt her body relax as she floated through the quiet.

Finally, her lungs began to protest the lack of oxygen. It was unfortunate that she’d gotten super strength and not the ability to breathe underwater. She kicked up, ascending through the deep, and broke the surface with a satisfied gasp.

“I wondered if you’d drowned.”

She blinked water from her eyes and turned. Theo stood on the rocks, hands in his pockets. Despite the hot weather, he wore a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and the glove still covered his right arm.

She smirked at him. “Come for swimming lessons?”

The redhead bared his teeth in a grin. “So you can push me under when I least expect it? I don’t think so.”

Camryn floated on her back. “Someone’s paranoid. I had the chance to let you drown, but I didn’t.”

Theo didn’t say anything. She smiled and flipped over, diving underwater. With a few powerful strokes, she swam closer and came up for air once more. Theo was still standing there, watching her warily.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to teach you? I’ll swear by anything you like that I won’t harm you,” she offered. The warm weather and water had put her in a good mood, and despite her general irritation of Theo, she was feeling particularly generous.

He chuckled darkly, and she cocked her head. “What? You don’t think I’d keep my word?”

“Words are the things I trust least,” he replied. “Nothing would stop you from changing your mind as soon as it suited you.”

“Wow. You’re a real ray of sunshine. What do you trust?”

Theo examined his nails. “Science. Things that can be proven. And my affinity, of course.”

“Not friends?”

The redhead snorted. “You mean people to knows my weaknesses?”

Camryn stared quizzically. “…You don’t have friends? Like, anyone that you’re close to?”

He pushed a stray strand of hair out of his face. “Those who proclaim friendship and closeness simply want something. When it comes down to it, all they care about is their selfish desire.”

Cam kicked her feet, watching the mage thoughtfully. What had given him such an opinion of people?

“What?” he asked.

“I’ve never met someone who holds everyone at a distance like you do.”

“I told you…”

“Yeah, yeah. Weaknesses. But that doesn’t stop anyone else from making friends.” She propelled herself into the shallows where she could touch bottom, far enough away that Theo wouldn’t think she was trying to pull a fast one. “Aren’t you just putting yourself above everyone to feel superior?”

Theo smirked. “I am superior,” he said.

“I see. And how does it feel being all alone at the top?” she wondered. A flash of understanding went through her. “That must be why you come after people like me: you want human interaction, but without a risk or attached strings.”

Theo’s bemused expression wavered for half a second, and then he laughed. “My spellwork and experiments are my focus. I don’t have time to be concerned with friendships and the like.”

Then what are you doing here having a conversation with me? “Someday you might regret not having anyone in your corner when you need it,” she told him.

He picked a blade of grass off his knee. “I doubt it.”

She sighed. “You could at least dip your feet in the water. It feels amazing.”

Theo looked down at the water and said nothing. Cam shrugged and dove again, doing an underwater handstand. When she returned to the surface, Theo was sitting on a rock at the water’s edge, rolling up his pant legs. She resisted the urge to make a joke about his blindingly white shins and watched, bobbing a few feet away from him as he dipped his legs in the water.

“Feels good, right?” she asked.

“Hmm,” he grunted, still watching her. After a moment, he spoke.

“How’d you get that scar on your arm? I thought your physical affinity was supposed to grant you accelerated healing.”

She glanced at the pink, puckered scar across her bicep. “What’s the use in knowing?” For it was the most personal question he’d asked, and she wanted him to admit he was genuinely curious.

He smirked. “I was wondering if I’d been the one to give it to you, and if so, which of my spells was so efficient.”

Cam smiled. “I’ll have to disappoint you, then. A drunk driver hit me while I was crossing the street.”

Theo blinked. Despite the smirk he kept plastered on his face like a mask, she was beginning to learn to spot the emotions beneath it. Her words had rattled him earlier, and now she’d surprised him. But she kept her voice dismissive as she added, “If my affinity hadn’t awoken, it might’ve turned out a lot differently.”

Theo stared. “Awoken… You’re a novice?”

Cam shrugged, enjoying the slipping of his aloof façade. “I suppose so. When I woke up at the hospital, the doctor there explained magic to me.”

The redhead seemed deep in thought. Then he shrugged. “That would explain why you’re so sloppy.” With a flick of his finger, his legs were dry, and he bent down to put his socks and shoes back on.

She arched an eyebrow and decided to ignore the jab. “How long have you had yours?”

He straightened, hair cascading over his shoulder like a molten wave. “My affinity developed when I was two.”

Seriously? “Are your parents mages?” she asked.

His grin stayed firmly in place, but a muscle feathered in his jaw as he glared down at her. “What’s the use in knowing?” he asked, quoting her words back at her.

She bared her teeth back at him. “Touchy subject, then. I was starting to wonder if you had emotions at all.”

Theo flicked his finger, and she dodged the rock that hurtled through the air. It skipped across the water behind her, but she kept her eyes on the mage.

“Just because you’re a novice doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you,” he said.

“Just because you have magic doesn’t mean you’re superior,” Cam snapped back. “Your personality is still shit.”

For a moment she thought he might electrocute the water while she was in it. Instead, the redhead snorted and turned on his heel. “Not many people dare to talk to me like that. Watch your back.”

She actually laughed. “Are you for real? You just asked me about a huge scar I received from a traumatic injury, and then get upset when I ask one little yes or no question about your fam—”

The next rock was too fast to dodge. It sliced through her eyebrow and left her blinking blood and stars out of her vision. Fury surged through her, and she lunged for the rocks. “I’m gonna kick your ass, you skinny, ginger punk!”

But by the time she pulled herself ashore, the redhead had vanished. She touched a finger to her split eyebrow and clenched her fists.

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Camryn yawned as she headed home from work. It was Summer Solstice, and the sun had only just set a couple hours ago. It was also a new moon, so the sky was darker than usual. From now on, the daylight hours would slowly but surely start to dwindle…

Something struck her—hard—and sent her rolling across the asphalt. Pain bloomed through her side, and she grit her teeth and forced herself to her feet.

Theo stood before her; hand outstretched. The manhole cover that had hit her clattered to the ground.

“What the hell?” she snapped, clutching her sore ribs. She hadn’t seen Theo since the day at the lake. Now he was smirking, but there was something glittering in his green eyes that she didn’t recognize.

Something cruel.

He took an uneven step toward her, and she realized he was drunk. “What’s wrong? A thought we could have a little fun,” he laughed darkly. There was a strange lilt to his voice she’d never heard, but before she could identify it, electricity bit into her already throbbing muscles. She staggered and leapt out of the way to avoid his next attack.

“What’s your deal?” she snapped, dodging the bolts of lightning. “Is this because I asked about your family? If it’s that personal, then I’m sorry!”

An invisible force seized her ankle, swung her through the air and slammed her into the ground. She coughed and rolled, dragging herself back to her feet as she tried to catch her breath. This was nothing like their normal bouts. He was bloodthirsty.

“Theo!” she exclaimed, standing with feet planted. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“Shut up!” he hissed. “Dinnae talk t’me like we’re friends!” Flames shot from his fingers, but his aim was sloppy. She dodged most of them, but one caught her pant leg. She patted it furiously, wincing as the fire licked her fingers, until it was out.

“Theo, stop it!” she yelled. “You’re drunk!”

“A said shut up! As if you know anything about it. Yer nothin’ but an amateur physical affinity,” he snarled. “Stop actin’ like we’re equals. Like we could be friends. Compared to my power, you’re nothing!”

A green aura enveloped his hand, and he sliced downward. Nothing happened, and Camryn gritted her teeth, ran forward, and struck him across the face. He went careening backward and landed in the bushes, out cold.

She stood there, panting. What the hell had that been about? She’d never picked Theo as the type to get wasted, but she could smell the alcohol on him. Something had definitely happened to make him attack like that. But what—

A fierce whip cracked across her back, sending her nerve endings howling. She cried out and spun around, but no one was there. Another burst of pain followed, and she stifled a shout and stumbled back, away from Theo. She ran full tilt for her house as the third lash followed, and then a fourth, and a fifth. A green flash that matched Theo’s magic accompanied each one. The skin on her back broke, and hot blood seeped into her shirt. She fumbled her keys into the lock, staggered inside, and fell to her knees as the invisible whip cut her over and over again. Blood spattered the floor, and her fingers smeared it as she dug her nails into the wood.

Just as she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, the attack ended. She lay there for a long time, taking shuddering breaths as she felt her heart beating in time with the throbbing on her back. Tears ran down her face, mixing with the blood that speckled the floor.

She had to talk herself into getting up. Gritting her teeth hard enough to hurt, she slowly pushed herself up. The movement alone almost made her black out, but she forced herself to a sitting position. The entryway looked like a massacre. As she looked around at all the blood, a sob escaped her lips.

--------------------------

She called into work the next day. She told Lawrence that her grandfather was ill, and she had to take a leave of absence. She’d be out for at least a week.

As usual, he was completely understanding. In reality, she was sitting on the edge of her bed with a towel wrapped around her to stop the bleeding, since there was no way for her to wrap bandages around herself.

The lashes covered her back like some sort of gruesome latticework. Whatever spell Theo cast had filleted her skin like a pro chef, and even breathing brought on a surge of pain. It had torn her shirt open, which was the only way she managed to get it off, because trying to lift her arms over her head would’ve resulted in fainting.

She thought about going to the hospital. But the thought of trying to drive herself anywhere, not to mention how in the world she’d explain such terrible injuries, snuffed the idea out almost immediately. No, all she could do was hole up and let her accelerated healing do its work.

Which it did, but it felt like an eternity. She focused on eating and drinking plenty of water, and did what she’d always done when it came to pain: forced her way through it.

The fight with Theo ran through her head on repeat. Fury boiled in her veins as she recalled his drunken rant about not needing friends. Had he really maimed her because she’d tried to be friendly for a fucking change?

The first two days, she was ready to kill him. That didn’t last long: no matter how angry she was, she knew it was something she’d end up regretting. Breaking several of his bones and rendering him immobile for a few months, though, seemed incredibly practical.

The lashes slowly scabbed over. A few more days and she could gingerly put on a shirt. Two days after that and she was moving better. However, by the fifth day it became apparent that she couldn’t feel the middle of her back, where the overlap was thickest.

Lawrence noticed she was more subdued—and moving a little stiffly—when she came back to work. He asked once, and when she gave a short confirmation that she was fine, he didn’t bring it up again.

[selfishsunnies]

i wish you sidewalk pennies - JJ x reader

warnings: not more than the show

notes: This is just a filler chapter... so much is ab to go down you guys I am so ready. we just gotta get there. Feedback & questions are apriciated!!!

word count: 2,300 roughly

CH. 2- “melodies & giant plastic dinosaurs”

It had been a few days since that night after the party. Kie had to work a few shifts at the wreck, so that left Alice alone in the house. It’s not that Alice wouldn’t help out at the restaurant, they just hadn’t asked. It left her with a lot of free time. She didn’t really remember the island, so she couldn’t head to the beach nor did she feel comfortable going by herself. Alice didn’t really trek outside of her comfort zone very often, but this whole summer was miles out of her little box.

With the cell phone towers down often and the wifi in the house being spotty, she spent a lot of time reading. She had brought a few books with her, but quickly finished those and had to resort to Kiara’s bookshelf. It was outdated, probably stuff she had read in middle school. Alice didn’t really mind though, she had read most of them, too. She picked up one she hadn’t and began reading. She quickly lost track of time and before she knew it, her aunt was home. She knocked lightly on Alice’s door, peeking her head in. The woman looked tired, bags under her eyes, her eyebrows pinched together. 

“Hi, dear. I hope I wasn’t interrupting.”

“No,” Alice said, closing the book, “it’s okay.”

“How’re you doing? The first few days can be rough.”

“I’m good, Kiara’s friends all seem super nice and I’m loving the weather.”

Her aunt pinched her nose when Alice mentioned Kiara’s friends, but smiled softly. She thought about what she’d said, about being good. This wasn’t a lie. Alice really was having a good time. She felt relaxed for the first time she can remember since her parents began fighting. She didn’t miss her friends as much as she had imagined, although she wished she could group facetime and show them around the house or update them more often. She certainly didn’t miss her parents’ arguing. Her dad had lost his job a few months ago and it seemed he had no intention of getting another. Alice tried not to be home as much as possible to avoid them both. She kept busy with her job, school, and soccer practices, but now, all that was over. 

And Kiara’s friends did seem nice. They were all instantly so accepting. She felt like they were all little kids again. She wished she remembered when they were.

“Well, we’re here if you ever need anything, baby.” She placed her hand on Alice’s cheek and kissed the top of her head. Alice nodded, grateful.

The next night, the four of them had dinner together at The Wreck. It was past closing time, but it was the end of a long week and Kiara had the weekend off. Her father had been working late hours to prepare for the height of the season, he was calling it. This meant they celebrated the last few moments of calm before the storm. 

“So, Alice,” her uncle started, a glass of rum and coke in his hand, “are you still singing?”

Alice blushed at the question, “Not like I used to.” She tried to laugh it off. Alice used to train extensively, lessons twice a week, binders filled with sheet music, always doing a vocal warm up. That all changed when she got to high school though. She started playing for the school’s soccer team, her classes got a little harder and she needed more time to study. She started going to lessons only every other week, missing recitals for soccer games, until one day during senior year, she just didn’t go back. She never did the school’s musicals, though. When people learned that Alice could sing, they always assumed that meant she did theatre. It did not. Alice was a terrible dancer and didn’t particularly like acting. So, she stuck to singing. 

“Aw, really? I remember you used to love coming down here because it meant you got to skip lessons. That didn’t stop you from singing though.” Kiara said, laughing.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you don’t remember?”

Alice shook her head sadly.

“Oh come on,” her uncle started again, “you never stopped singing. Used to make kie and the neighborhood kids perform talent shows for us and your parents in the backyard, couldn’t have been older than five.” 

This earned a laugh from everyone at the table, “No way!”

“Oh, it really was the sweetest thing,” her aunt sighed, reminiscing. 

The thought of John B and JJ performing in a backyard talent show had Alice nearly in stitches, Kie too. 

“Oh, I cannot wait to hold that over their heads,” Kiara exclaimed. The laughter soon died down, making everyone realize how empty and quiet the restaurant was.

“Well, maybe I’ll start again. I’ve got tons of time,” Alice said with a smile. She was only half kidding. She really did love to sing.

“There is that fundraiser event at the end of the month.”

Kie sighed, loudly, “Mom, that is such a kook thing. Where does that money even go? Who are they even fundraising for?”

“Dear, they’re-” She started to reply, but was cut off again by Kiara ranting, “They’re a waste of time and good money that could be given to an actual cause.”

They went on like this for a few minutes before Alice could butt in, “Uhm. What?” she asked. 

“The kooks are planning a fundraiser event for god only knows what and I am being forced to go.” Kiara shot a look at her mother.

“Of course we are going, it’s a really big deal. Everyone’s going to be there and,” she reached out and placed her hand on Alice’s arm, “and they need entertainment.”

“Oh, I don't know. That’s kind of-”

“Mom, please. No.”

“Honey,” her aunt's tone was tight, the crease between her eyebrows returning, She turned her attention towards Alice, “Just promise me you’ll think about it.”  

Alice nodded her head in agreement. She silently made the promise to herself that she was not doing it. Alice had been out of practice for too long to just begin performing for an important event like this. The thought of singing in front of more than about five people made her stomach swirl. That was a different part of her life, one that Alice has left behind when coming here.

A few hours later the girls wound up at John B’s. Him and Sarah were laying in a hammock out back, tangled up in each other. JJ was rolling a joint while Pope sat next to him, talking about some tv show he just finished, “No, dude, it was crazy.” When they walked into the yard he stopped talking to kiss Kiara on the cheek and then returned to his spot next to JJ. He waved a nice hello to Alice and Sarah yelled her hello’s from the hammock. Her voice was smooth and a little giggly like she had been drinking. 

“Kie, you want a hit?” JJ asked, holding the lit joint closer to her. She took it from him and formed O’s with the smoke she exhaled before handing it to Alice.

“Oh, I uh, I don’t know.” She stuttered out. 

“Just like this” Kie demonstrated, very poorly may she add, before handing it back to Alice. She tried her very best, and still managed to choke. She coughed and coughed. This earned a laugh from JJ, “So I take it you don’t smoke?” 

“I’ve just never tried, no one smokes back home. I guess it’s just not a thing.” 

“You’re telling me no one where you’re from smokes weed? Bullshit. You’re just not going to the right parties.” He was laying in the grass, arm tucked under his head, a smug look on his face.

“I go to plenty of parties,” Alice said in defense. It’s true, Alice rarely turned down an invite to a kegger back home. She had only ever lost one beer pong game, and that wasn’t even really her fault. 

“I don’t deny that. I’m just saying you ain’t going to the right ones if there isn’t weed.” JJ took another drag and formed O’s of his own. By now Kiara had moved to sit in between the two boys and was leaning against Pope. Alice sat on his other side, leaning back on her hands. 

“I don’t know dude, even if it was there I couldn’t smoke it anyway. At least not in high school. Shit messes up your breath support and stuff.”

“She used to be a singer,” Kie clarified, “a natural talent really.” She said, poking fun.

“Ah, cool. So like musicals and stuff?” Pope asked, bless his heart. She felt her face light up now that the attention was all on her.

“No,” Alice answered with a chuckle, “like choir and recitals and all that.”

“She’s being humble, Miss first in the state.” Kiara shot back.

Now it was her turn to clarify, “That was like sixth grade! And it was just a junior competition. Anyway, enough about my miserable singing career, what’re we doing tonight?”

JJ raised his head to look at her, “this.”

“What? What about crazy adventures? You’ve all told me the stories.”

“We’ve retired,” John B spoke up for the first time since she’d been there that night. 

“Retired? At the young age of 18, that’s quite a shame.” Kiara giggled at Alice’s sarcasm. 

“Maybe if we didn’t spend a whole summer being chased by the police and a bunch of big men with guns, we wouldn’t be so tired.” Pope spoke up.

Sarah started to chime in, “Yeah, or get stranded in the Bahamas.”

“Facts.” John B said.

“Okay, okay,” Alice began, “I’m just saying, it’s a little depressing.” The crickets were loud in the trees and she closed her eyes, taking in the silence, the lack of cars speeding by. Truthfully, Alice didn’t mind sitting here all night. At home, there was always something going on, somewhere to be, someone to be with, but here everything felt like a choice. One that Alice could decide whether or not to pick, and the outcome was always good.

*********

“This is it,” John B said, gesturing outwards. Alice looked around at her new friends.They were all smiling wide staring at her, waiting for her reaction.  After much convincing, everyone agreed to go on an adventure that night. They didn’t tell her where they were going, but when they arrived, she was confused to say the least, “Uhm. Okay.” Kie swung her arm around Alice’s neck, “You really have to take it all in.”

“I- Okay. I just don’t understand why?”

“Why do you have to take it all in?” She responded.

 “No, no. Like why is it here of all places and why a dinosaur?” 

Alice tilted her head staring at the massive dinosaur statue in front of them. They had all piled into the van and drove for what felt like forever until they arrived in a little town Alice had never been to. They parked and walked to the center of town to come across this. It was huge, really. It’s neck and tail longer than three of her on top of each other. And it was surrounded by hedges and flowers and a few benches. It was the most random statue she had ever seen and it was right here in the middle of a town.

“I don’t know. Some historical shit.” JJ said, “Bet I can climb it.”

“No, JJ.” Pope dismissed and then turned to Alice, “It’s a replica of brachiosaurus. Part of it’s leg bone was discovered here in the 1800’s, so they built it to commemorate that.” Alice smiled at this explanation, thankful for Pope’s knowledge.

When they turned back to look, John B already had JJ sitting on his shoulders, trying to lift him further up the statue. 

“Guys, stop!” Sarah yelled, but she couldn’t help but laugh. He was close to hooking on to the neck. 

“This is just pointless, what are you going to do when you get up there?” Kie asked, coming over to stand where Alice and Pope were. The two boys ignored the question, obviously struggling to get JJ’s leg over. Alice couldn’t help herself and took out her phone to record a video. 

Finally, they did it. JJ was sitting on this massive dinosaur, posing cheesily for pictures while everyone laughed and egged him on.

“Imagine riding one of these things down the street,” he yelled from the top, “no one could stop me. I’m on top of the fucking world.” They were doubled over with laughter until someone spotted a cop car pulling up, “shit.”

“I cannot get caught right now,” John B said, quickly turning away from the car and grabbing Sarah’s hand. 

“JJ jump!” Pope yelled. The others were on the move down the street and ALice could see the two cops approaching the group. 

“Pope I can’t jump! Do you see how high I am right now?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, “In more ways than one.”

Alice kept her eyes on the police, inching their way to them, “C’mon!” 

JJ swung his leg down and got as close to the ground as possible before leaping off and tumbling to the ground. He laid there for what felt like an hour before getting up and beginning to sprint away. The cops started to chase after them, but Alice was frozen on the scene. When she went to move, she realized Pope was already gone. 

“Bro, move!” JJ yelled and grabbed her wrist, dragging her alongside him. They ran until they saw the van, Pope behind the wheel and Kie on the passenger side. Sarah was holding the back door open and the pair made it with just enough time to drive away. 

[louhooo]

Hello My Old Heart | Chap. 8

Chapter Summary: Bucky helps you out with a problem

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader [AU]

Warnings:Swearing, FLUFF, mention of adult themes (maybe?)

A/N: A second chapter this week ‘cause I wanted to lol

All feedback is welcomed! 💘

“Steve, how many times do I hafta tell you, you don’t hafta knock when–” You flung the door open, only to reveal a brunet boy instead of the blond you were expecting. “Oh. You’re not Steve.” He chuckled.

“Glad you haven’t lost it since I saw ya yesterday.” You rolled your eyes.

“Har har. So funny, Barnes.” You pinched your brows, “What’re you doin’ here? Where’s Steve?”

“His dad surprised him this morning with tickets to a Yankee’s game. He said you needed help with somethin’, so,” he held his hands up, “here’s the help.” You grimaced.

“Oh, you don’t hafta help me, Bucky. It’s not really that bigga deal.” He lolled his head and gave you a look.

“You told Steve you desperately needed his help, but now when it’s me, it’s ‘not that bigga deal’?” He pursed his lips skeptically. “What is it?” You rolled your eyes and sighed. Clearly he wasn’t going to let it go.

“I have some Christmas lights that I wanna hang up on the ceiling in my room, but you don’t–”

“How’re you gonna hang ‘em?” You shrugged.

“I was just gonna use nails.” He raised a brow, not impressed with your answer. “Don’t give me that look; I don’t have anything else.”

“Nails won’t work. Put your shoes on. We’ll walk to my house and get some stuff from my dad.”

“But–”

“Oh my GOD…!” He groaned, his head tilted up. He looked back at you, “My dad won’t get mad. He likes you. Says that you’re a good influence on me.” You slowly smiled, a feeling of pride washing over you. Bucky smirked, “You just wanted to hear me say that.” You laughed and nodded unashamedly. Bucky shook his head softly with an amused smile on his face, “Now can we go?” You nodded and slid on your flip flops by the door and shut the door and started walking to Bucky’s house a few blocks over. “Is your mom really gonna let you put stuff in the ceiling?” You shrugged.

“She’s not home, so she won’t know.”

“Well, she’ll probably figure it out at some point.”

“Doubt it.” You walked in comfortable silence the rest of the way to his house. Becca was sprawled out on the driveway, playing with chalk.

“Hey, where’s dad?” Her pigtails bounced when she looked up at you.

“Watching baseball. Hi, Y/N!” You grinned.

“Hi, Becca!” Bucky motioned with his head.

“C’mon.” You followed him toward the backyard and climbed the back steps to the deck, going through the French doors of the kitchen. “Dad?” Bucky shouted once you were inside. He shut the door behind you and walked towards the noise of the ball game.

“Yeah?” His dad shouted back. 

“Can you help us?” You stood in the doorway and George looked at you both and smiled, kicking down the recliner.

“Hey, kid, how are ya?” You smiled.

“I’m good.”

“Where’s the other musketeer?” He chuckled at his own joke, which Bucky promptly groaned at.

“He’s with his dad. Y/N wants to hang some Christmas lights on her ceiling, but we don’t know what we should use to hang them.”

“So, you’ve come to the expert.” You laughed, and Bucky groaned some more at his dad. Bucky really needs to tell him to lay off the ‘dad jokes’ while Y/N was over. “Well, I’d use hooks, but depends on how you’re gonna hang ‘em.” They both looked at you.

“Well I was thinking they’d be kinda draped from wall to wall. Kinda like a canopy.”

“I might have some out in the garage,” he started walking out to the garage, and you and Bucky followed. You watched him as he searched through the drawers and cupboards in the garage, as Becca came in and spun on the stool he had at his work table. “Well, shit. I don’t think I have any. You kids get in the truck and we’ll go to the hardware store and get some.”

“Dad, we can just walk.” Bucky looked at you, “That’s alright, right?” You nodded quickly. Truthfully, it was hot and you didn’t want to walk, but you also didn’t want George to take you, either. Last time you went somewhere with him, you, Bucky, and Steve got stuck waiting two hours for him to stop talking to people before you could leave. George Barnes could never let a stranger stay a stranger.

“Alright, if you’re sure?” You both nodded, “Okay, well, call if you need any help.”

“I will.” Bucky turned and started walking back down the driveway. You waved to George and Becca and caught up with Bucky. You turned left, towards the direction of the hardware store.

“Hey, can we go back to my house so I can get my money?” Bucky waved you off.

“I’ll just buy what we need.” You stopped walking. Bucky did a double take and stopped walking, heading over towards you. “What?”

“I’m not gonna let you pay for ‘em, Bucky.”

“Dude, it’s fine. I was just gonna charge ‘em to dad’s account anyways.” You gave him a look.

“Can we please just go and get my–” He sighed softly and put his hands on your biceps.

“Sunshine… think of it as payback for all the pencils you loaned to me last year.” He had a soft grin on his face.

“Ya know, we’re gonna be in high school this year, so we aren’t gonna be together in every class, so you’ll have to keep track of your own shit.” He laughed making you grin.

“Yeah, believe me, I’m already stressed about the responsibility.” You snorted and Bucky’s laughter died down, “So, is that a ‘yes’?” You let out a deep sigh and nodded begrudgingly. Bucky smiled. “Great.”

You got the hooks and Bucky ended up paying for them with his own money. When you asked him about it, his face got red and he started stammering over his words and quickly changed the subject to who your teachers were. You had history, math and lunch together, which you were relieved to hear, and Bucky was relieved you bought the distraction. You stopped by his house long enough to borrow a ladder from his dad and went back to your house.

He screwed the hooks into the ceiling how you wanted, and you were in charge of handing him a new one, and holding the ladder steady. Bucky seemed to drag it out on purpose by making you break down in crying laughter and making it way too difficult to work efficiently. 

It was dark by the time you finished getting the hooks in and the lights strung up. You turned off your lamp and plugged in the lights, smiling up at the ceiling.

“I love it. Thanks for your help, Buck!” You looked over at him and his eyes went wide and he looked back up at the ceiling.

“It’s no problem. And there’s no way Steve would’ve been tall enough to help.” You smirked as he looked back at you, his own smile forming. He checked his watch, “When’s your mom gonna be home?”

“Sometime tomorrow, I think.” Bucky’s eyes shot to yours.

“What?”

“She went to see her boyfriend.”

“So… you’re gonna be here by yourself?” You shrugged, trying to make his questions stop.

“It’s not really that big of deal. I don’t mind.” He had concern pretty obviously sketched on his face.

“Y/N… you’re gonna be alone, though.”

“Bucky, it’s really–”

He sighed deeply. “I know, I know….” He looked at his watch again, “It’s not that late yet. Do you wanna watch a movie?” You shrugged.

“Sure. You pick the movie, and I’ll go get extra blankets.” You pointed to where your movies were at and headed to the hallway closet to get blankets. You came back with a stack and Bucky helped you lay them on the floor. You took the pillows from your bed and set them on the blankets, situating them how you wanted them. 

Bucky picked a random movie and set it in the DVD player and the clicked through until the movie started playing.

“Hey, is it alright if I unplug the lights during the movie?” You nodded and sat forward, pulling the plug from the wall. You got settled again and noticed Bucky send a text and push his phone to the outskirts of the blanket. He glanced at you, “You comfortable?” You hummed. 

“Who did you text?”

“My dad. Wanted to know how the hooks worked.” You nodded and focused back on the movie, resituating your pillow. It was his dad, but it was only to tell him he was staying at your house because you’d be alone otherwise. It wouldn’t be the first time Bucky or Steve had done it, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“Here, pick your head up.” You obeyed and picked your head up. He moved your pillow closer to his and held his arm out and looked at you expectantly. You blinked.

“Uh….” He crossed his eyes.

“Dude, just lay down so I can watch the movie.” You chewed on your cheek as you slowly brought yourself closer, and laid down. You sighed and settled more, pleasantly surprised by how comfortable he was to lay on. You felt your eyes start to droop about halfway through the movie, and you didn’t think twice before curling into Bucky’s side. You laid your hand down on his chest by your face, and felt his arm go around you.

“What cologne are you wearing?” Your eyes were closed, but you were still hanging onto consciousness.

“Uh… none right now?” Oh, shit! Did he remember to wear deodorant? He was pretty sure he did, but–

You hummed. “You smell like rain,” you sighed contentedly. “I like the rain.” Is his heart beating faster?

“You smell like peaches….” He pulled you a little closer. “I like peaches, ya know?” 

“I know, Buck….” You silently thanked your past self for buying that peach-scented shampoo as you sank into unconsciousness, dreaming of thunderstorms and a brunet boy with blues eyes.

After dinner (and barely avoiding the discussion of yours and Bucky’s relationship), you dealt with the awkwardness of deciding where you were going. 

Did you go back to your hotel room by yourself? Did Bucky stay with you? Did you just go to the house, and do the walk of shame (minus the knowledge of having sex) tomorrow?

“Just come home.” You looked over at Bucky. You were still parked in front of Peg’s with the truck off and the sound of crickets chirping outside.

“Buck… we still have so much to figure out. I can’t–”

“What’s there left to figure out that we can’t figure out at home, as a husband and wife that live together?”

“I…” You wanted to go home, you really did, but how could you? It wasn’t that easy.

“Come home, peaches.” Tears immediately went down your face.

“Why are you like this?” His face twisted in confusion. “Why are you so fucking sweet to me?” He chuckled and thumbed away the tears. He cupped your face and you sat, staring at one another until the lights in Peg’s went out and the staff went home.

“I know we’re still not 100 percent, I know we’re really fuckin’ far away from 100%, but I’m willing to work on it, if you are. I want to work on it if you do.”

“I do,” you mumbled softly. Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. “I can’t go home with you, though. That wouldn’t help us.” Bucky felt his shoulders drop as he exhaled.

Oh. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” He turned the engine over and wrung his hands on the steering wheel. “Would- Would you go to lunch with me tomorrow?” He glanced at you, “It could be like a… date?” You blinked.

“A date?” Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, ya know the thing where people usually eat and talk and try to get to know one another?” You gave him a look.

“Yes, I know what a date is, Bucky, thank you. I meant it more as… why?”

Bucky shrugged, dropping his hands to his lap, “Same reason anyone wants to go on a date with a pretty girl.” You tried giving him another look, but the bashful grin overtaking your face made it slightly less convincing. “We can just eat a good meal and talk about nice things, nothing heavy or serious. I mean! Unless you want to, then we can! But I don’t think you do, but maybe you do, but that’s not really great ‘date’ conversation, but I also know that–” You giggled, promptly shutting him up.

“If I say ‘yes’ will you stop freaking out?” Bucky breathed out a laugh and angled his body towards you.

“You remember how I was when I first asked you out; I can’t help it.” You snorted and shook your head.

“For the millionth time, you didn’t ask me out first, I asked you first!”

“Eh, semantics.” You laughed, still shaking your head at Bucky. He grinned, resting his arm against the seat, “So, is that a yes?”

Your laughter subsided and you grinned tenderly at him. “Yes. Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.” Bucky nodded, biting his lip to suppress the giant smile he was toting. You clicked your seatbelts and drove to the house, making plans for the next day. Once you were to the house, you both lingered outside your car door and kept the conversation going, neither of you ready for it to stop, even if just for the night.

After you yawned for the fifth time in a row, Bucky leaned and opened your car door for you.

“You need to get to bed.” You looked at the door and shook your head, gazing back up at Bucky.

“No, I’m–” Another yawn escaped your mouth, making your eyes water. Bucky raised a dubious brow while casting a teasing grin.

“What was that?” You sighed, pursing your lips.

“Oh, shut up. You’re such a smart ass.” He smiled, popping his hip against the edge of the door.

“You love it.” Your breathing hitched just a fraction, but you quickly played it off with a chuckle.

“Yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that.” You took a step towards your car, but just before getting in you turned back around, looking at Bucky. Don’t overthink it. You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You know how whenever a cartoon character is in love, their eye’s turn into hearts and they smile at everything their love does? Well, that’s exactly what Bucky felt. He watched you pull out of the drive and onto the gravel road back towards town, and it was a few minutes before he realized he was still standing there with a dopey grin on his face.

You got back to your room and exhaled, a grin almost permanently fixed on your face. 

Tomorrow just couldn’t come fast enough.

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Previous // Next 

[rawemotions7]

Trying is better than the Regret.

This is one of those topics I’ve been wanting to write so much. There are a lot of things I want to share, and I’ve got a very important message so I hope you read it till the end. 

To my readers I want you to know that life gives us this choice of doing something for the first time. It’s either a yes or a no. From me based on the lines above Trying would be a yes, like yes I would like to try to cook sometime, or try to play cricket sometime or these things I’ve never done before, I would like to try to do these things. And regret would be the opposite, it’s not like everybody regrets not trying but they wouldn’t exactly have the experience.

Why to Try?

This is a question we ask ourselves every day when it’s not our ,’ like why am I even trying to do this?’, ‘Would people like me if I did this?’, if I am stuck in this kind of a situation I like to go and give it a shot. Without actually trying I would know the end result of something, you would lack the experience to judge the activity. Sometimes there are risks combined with trying, but those decisions should be thought through. But I’m not suggesting that trying is risky, see I know this what’s tomorrow is unknown, then why are we building are lives today or shaping our lives the way we are for the unknown, why don’t we just cherish the moment and live today. Same is with trying why do we jump to conclusions without trying it, we don’t know how the experience is going to be, so instead of thinking about how it could go wrong might as well give it a shot. 

You cannot do anything about it without actually trying. I know I’ve been exaggerating upon the fact that you should try, only with the experience I’m saying this,’ I do regret not trying things when I had the opportunity’. The regret is the hardest to live with.

What is regret?

To quote the actual meaning of regret it is “a feeling of sadness or disappointment over failing to do something”, that’s the meaning but If we’re to put it in a simple manner it would be, ‘not trying’. Regret is the after feeling we get after we decide not to try because it crosses your mind what if I tried, and then you basically regret not trying. I say try, because even you feel it that may cause some kind of a problem after, you can at least have the experience to say so. For example, if you tried a new restaurant an you don’t like the food, so the next time you know where not to go, without trying you wouldn’t be able to.In a way trying gives us the experience.

 If J.K Rowling didn’t pitch other publishers when she got turned down, we wouldn’t have known anything about Harry Potter. The decision of not trying would leave you with a regret.

Why is it better to try?

I think it’s always best to try it makes your life simpler and a lot less of decisions you have to make, it leaves you with the experience, it leaves you with something you never expected, it leaves you changed. Referring to the part of the unknown tomorrow, Trying brings you things or results you don’t expect, there’s this thing about life you cannot know it all, if you think so then it’ll surprise you every day. Do your thing, try once, twice and on and on. But don’t give up. Someday you’ll be happy you did so.

Important message!!!!

In today’s world people make fun of other people to try something. Why do you think we fixate upon the decision to try something, it’s because we think about how the people around us would react. We crave that feedback, every human does, so instead of making fun try supporting them.

The inspiration to this blog was after the incident of various students abusing teachers during online classes or you know messing around with them, I think they’re doing a fabulous job trying to at least teach online not everybody is brave enough to do that. And not only teachers, if someone around you is trying to do something encourage them, motivate them. I guarantee you’ll feel very happy about it. During such times support each other and not only during this time but all the time support each other it’s a small world- Be happy and make others happy. 

By

 ~Mohammed Athar Rangila.

#writers @poetic

#shortstory @writersnoonereads @shortstoryprompt

[nicktremblaywayfu]

Nick Tremblay and Laird Byron for the "give me a character" ask? ^^

GIVE ME A CHARACTER;

and I’ll break their ass down:

Characters : Laird Byron

How I feel about this character : from scale of meh - fuck off. Despite this, he has potential to be a rocking outlast character. But man look at him. A helpless and desperate pathetic gremlin who got Napoleon Syndrome. He could've been better.

All the people I ship romantically with this character : Let's just said he prolly would go canon with Knoth LMAO. His devotions tho. Also there is a disscussion about how knoth possibly fucked that gremlin. Therefore, he got syphillis from knoth akowkaokwnejfjfjcici. But maybeee there's a chance he has crush to Marta. They both at least know each other. Laird is one of Temple Gate founders, while Marta is Temple Gate enforcers who has been following Knoth around since she'a a child. So yeah ;) . bonus point young Marta must be attractive back then.

My non-romantic OTP for this character : im not going to say Nick nah nope. It's Val. Val and Laird are deacons. Plus Val is the deacon. They both must be get along. I mean, Laird seems like an opportunistic person who always tryna to get along with the higher ranking. Val seems friendly and playful ( Val is foreshadowed as Jessica in Blake's hallucinations), as Val also easily get close to the children. Conclusion, Val and Laird as deacons partner.

My unpopular opinion about this character : His character design is way too simple. Yeah human mount with gremlin rider is intriguing but hear me, an agile short archer with prosthetic leg. The thing is, you hardly to see him as he is too short to see. Blake is approximately 185 cm. Laird is 110 cm. Yeah you have to bow down to see him. Don't forget you have to confront his brawler too. I bet more complaints will be sent about 'em lol. And ngl he has more screen time than Knoth and Val (which is ironically, Knoth tittled as the main character while Val is the Gluskin of Outlast 2 . you know, the-popular-one.)

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon : THE FAREWELL ENDINNNGGG. Fyi there is an unused script and dialogue where they both fell, but Nick survive. Laird bid farewell and DED. Nick cried for him. BuT WAIT-- if Nick survive, doesn't that mean there will be a chase between Blake and Nick only? Hmmmm 👀

GIVE ME A CHARACTER;

and I’ll break their ass down:

Characters : Nick Tremblay

How I feel about this character : PSPSPSPSPSPSSSPSPSPS C'MERE BOI O HAVE SALTED CRICKETS FOR YOU 😍🥰🥰🥰😩😩💖🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😘😘😘👀👀👀🤩🤩🤩🤧🤧🤧😔😔😔😳😳😳😳😩😩👁👄👁 everytime i see him my heart goes ahhh trulala he is the man of my dream 💖💖💖 i love one (1) big boy. 10/10 good boi

All the people I ship romantically with this character : ME HAHAHHAHA . Honestly it's been 3 years i love him. And i'm glad i receive positive feedbacks (and some bad one too but it's all fine. Everyone has their own opinion about VinNick). I used to ship him with Val or Marta but apparently i no longer see that ship make sense. No dynamic could be made (ValNick may work but I more prefer MarVal or MarKnoth)

The Vinnick dynamic is literally chaotic small x calm giant. And the height gap ohhhh 150 cm x 195 cm (Alvin is a petite lady. She's a 23 years old SEAn)

My non-romantic OTP for this character : either Val or Marta. Val prolly a kind of person that chills with everyone, Marta is a strong lady. Val and Nick can go chilling together while Marta and Nick can hunt the unbeliever together

Partners in crimes dynamic

My unpopular opinion about this character : NICK CANONICALLY IS NOT AS CUTE AS WE MOSTLY THOUGHT. Many people say Nick did nothing wrong, Nick is innocent, Nick is a victim, etc. Including me myself. Buuut have u ever actually pay attention to the small detail in notes about Nick? And some unused dialogues too. Laird literally told Nick to break them unbeliever's skull (his hands are pretty big. Twice size from average size). So it's safe to assume he is capable to break a human skull, with or without weapon. Also there is a corpse near a small stream, saying that the writer of the note broke him (broke as maybe killed him? Idk he seems very dead and his head looks broken / weird) . Wikia said it's Laird's note but i don't believe it as he kills with bows and arrows. I see no arrows on the corpse. And who is capable to kill with barehand in Scalled and has paper priviledge (paper is precious in Temple Gate) ? Nick. (Other scalled use weapon as i remember). Regardless, any headcanons of him is VALID. Just because he is capable to kill someone that doesn't mean he has no feeling and not wanting affection ;) it is canon that he loves being pat (we can clearly see it in the cutscene.) How adorable what a giant baby

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon : THE FAREWEL ENDIINNNGG (2). I wish he survived. He doesn't deserve a death like that. If only he didn't lose his balance when he threw a scalled off to a cliff tho 😔 (andilowkeywantRBtoblessmyVinNickshiphahahah)

[chain-unchained]

As much as I like to draw, and as fun as it is, my perfectionism really slows down my creativity when I try to draw out the stories I come up with in my head. So I’m going to stick with posting the ‘chapters’ I write (they’re basically prompts for certain days), though I may end up doodling a picture to go with some of them :> I’ve also gone and translated Stardew’s 4-month calendar into a traditional 12-month one, because reasons. Any and all feedback is appreciated ovo (If you’re confused as to who Ashe is, he is my smol farmer boi. You can see him in the doodles I already posted if you’re so inclined~)

May 22

The quiet, rhythmic cries of crickets filled the still, peaceful evening air, calling hither to and fro as if they were singing to the twinkling stars up above in the inky black sky. Their glimmers reflected in the calm, glistening water of the small pond that Shane often found himself at when the storm raging inside his mind got to be too much for him to endure. Out of all the places in Pelican Town, it was the only one that he could go to for peace, quiet and solitude, the only company that ever kept him being the little frogs that enjoyed the pond as well and the occasional fish jumping out of the water to catch a bug that had passed overhead.

With a sharp crack and a hiss, Shane opened his third can of beer and took a drink; after so many years of pounding back brewskis on the regular, a six-pack was barely enough to get him drunk, and nowhere near enough to get him plastered like he so often wanted. When he was plastered, he didn’t have to think, didn’t have to stress, didn’t have to remember how fully worthless his life was.

Why go to work? Why eat? Why even get out of fucking bed in the morning when all that waited him was the same eight-hour shift at that hellhole Joja-Mart? And for what, a paycheck that he’d end up spending on room and board at Marnie’s and beer at the bar? What was the point? Why did he even try…?

“Shane?”

Glancing over his shoulder, Shane’s eyes fell upon a familiar figure as it approached. “Oh, it’s you.” He mumbled, recognizing Ashe after he squinted through the dim light cast by the full moon hanging overhead. “Dunno why I’m surprised. You always manage to find me when I’m in a bad mood.”

While once not so long ago such a thing would have been said with the intention of being rude and nasty, this time there was no such intent in Shane’s voice; it was a simple statement of fact, a fact that he had almost begun to count on at this point. Ashe was a newcomer to the valley and Pelican Town, and from his very first day there he had practically made it his personal mission to seek out and talk to Shane every single day. No matter how rude Shane was, or how hard he tried to ignore the kid, Ashe persisted, somehow being more stubborn than Shane was himself; he even went so far as to make him a plate full of cookies for his birthday, a gesture that got to Shane a lot more than he’d wanted it to. Jas and Marnie were the only other people in town who bothered to celebrate his birthday, and yet there was Ashe, treating him like he was a friend he’d known for years.

“What are you doing out here so late?” Ashe asked, the sound of his boot heels tapping against the wooden pier filling the air as he jogged towards the end, where Shane sat with his half-finished six pack and his legs dangling over the edge. For once, the stupid happy-go-lucky smile that was perpetually stuck on his face was gone, replaced instead by an expression of concern—or disgust, it could easily have been disgust considering how dark it was and how buzzed Shane was.

“Minding my own business.” Shane answered, looking back out to the lake as Ashe came to stand behind him. “You should try it sometime.” It was a half-hearted attempt to get the kid to leave, but he knew as soon as the words left his lips that it wouldn’t work; it seemed like the harder that he tried to push Ashe away, the more determined Ashe was to stay. Silence fell between the two for a few moments, as the crickets continued to chirp away and a nearby frog croaked; eventually, Shane pried another can of beer from the plastic rings binding the six-pack and held it over his shoulder. “Have a cold one.” Despite Ashe’s youthful (and girly) appearance, he was a regular at the bar much like Shane was, and could hold his alcohol better than most ‘manly’ men twice his age could.  

The gesture caught Ashe off-guard, but was very much welcome. “Ah, really? Thanks~” He accepted the can and plopped down merrily beside Shane as he pried the pull-tab up. It meant a lot that Shane offered a beer to him, as small of a gesture it was.

Silence once again filled the air as the two looked out at the mirror-like surface of the pond. “Buh… life.” Shane murmured, his bad knee jittering slightly as it tended to do when he was struggling. “… You ever feel like… no matter what, you’re gonna fail?”

He was waiting for Ashe to ask him what was wrong, waiting for the kid to try and pry into his business like the nosy parker he was. To his surprise, however, Ashe stayed quiet, sipping on his beer and watching the stars reflected in the pond. Maybe it was the surprise that made Shane lower his guard for once in his life, he didn’t know for sure. “Like you’re stuck in some miserable abyss and you’re so deep you can’t even see the light of day?” For some reason, he found himself now able to put to words the feelings that had been drowning and suffocating him for years. It helped that Ashe wasn’t trying to pull any psychological or analytical bullshit; the kid was just there, a sounding board for Shane to vent some of his repressed thoughts to. “I just feel like… no matter how hard I try, I’m not strong enough to climb out of that hole.”

Ashe quietly listened to Shane talk, slowly turning the can of beer around and around in his fingers. He’d had no idea that his friend—he’d considered Shane his friend from the outset, regardless of Shane’s own opinion of him—felt like this. It was shocking and saddening to hear such things coming from someone who, despite not liking his job, still got up and did it—he’d always thought of Shane as a resilient and strong man, and still thought that, but there was so much more hidden deep inside, almost waiting for someone to reach out.

Despite all of that, the last thing that Ashe wanted was to make a big deal out of what Shane had felt comfortable enough to share with him. Unable to think of anything else to say or do, he abruptly hoisted his beer to his lips and chugged it down in a few swigs, a feat that caught Shane off-guard and impressed him in equal measure. “Fast drinker.” He commented with a half-grin as Ashe lowered the now-empty can with a satisfied ‘aah’. “Man after my own heart.”

The grin faded as Ashe gave him that stupid, cheery smile he’d grown accustomed to seeing on his face. “Do me a favor… don’t be like me and make a habit of this shit.” He looked back out to the pond as he took a swig from his own beer. “You got a future ahead of you still.” For all his gruffness and coldness, Shane couldn’t stand to see a bright, genuine kid like Ashe throw his life away and end up like him. Still, he didn’t really think he needed to worry, since Ashe seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, but just like before, he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“I won’t.” Ashe promised, swinging his legs back and forth slowly as he watched a shooting star dash across the black sky. “… Hey, Shane?” He asked after a moment. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

As he’d watched that shooting star, he made a silent wish in his heart. He wanted to be closer to Shane, to be a supportive shoulder for the man to lean on when he needed it. It was a wish he wanted to come true almost as badly as his dream of winning his grandfather’s farm from Joja’s clutches. But Ashe wasn’t going to just wait and hold his breath, hoping that the outcome he wanted would fall into his lap—through his own will, he was going to make it happen.

[canadiankazz]

The Third Time - An L.A. by Night fanfic

Jasper is in serious trouble after being hit by a vehicle during a fight with another Kindred. He is going to need Annabelle's help (and blood) to heal. 

SPOILERS for the end of Campaign 1, and a little bit for the one-shots. This has gone off canon, so consider this an AU. It's worth reading Part 1 (The First Time) and Part 2 (The Second Time) before you read this. It was written before the premiere of Season 2. (Believe it or not!) This fic is intended for a mature audience and does contain off-screen self-harm and slightly graphic details of someone having been run over by a vehicle.

When coming up with ideas for this fic, my muse @cravatfiend and I were amazed that we didn't consider hurt/comfort first. Writing this one was a challenge, but one I ultimately enjoyed. I wanted this part to focus more on Jasper's side of things. He's not the easiest character to write for due to his enigmatic nature, and yet I've been told I do it well.

I lay no claim to owning any of the characters involved. As always, special thanks to @cravatfiend for the support and encouragement during the draft writing process. Neck biting was what they requested, and so neck biting is what we've got!

I am shocked and amazed at how close we came to something very much like this fic happening at the end of Episode 2 of Season 2. I was not expecting that at all! Thank you to everyone who has sent me positive feedback on parts 1 and 2. I am happy to be contributing to this small, but hungry fandom.

Also posted to my Ao3.

First posted Jan. 25, 2019.

The Entire ‘Feeds From’ Master List Can be Found Here

The Third Time

Jasper lay on the road, face-down. His whole existence was nothing but pain. His chest and back were completely crushed. If he needed to breathe, he wouldn’t have been able to due to his lungs being shredded by broken ribs. He couldn't feel his feet or legs. That wasn't good. He tested his hands and arms. His left one worked fine. His right wouldn’t respond. He slowly turned his head. He didn't hear or feel anything wrong with his neck. His right arm was a total mess, twisted and broken. He could see exposed bone. Not good.

Jasper looked back to where he had last seen his foe. He caught the sight of the other Nosferatu's body, what was left of it. Where the truck had run over Jasper's torso, it had directly hit the other vampire in the head. The force had been enough to crush it flat, effectively wrenching it from his body. The oh-so tempting smell of Vitae was thick in the air. Jasper watched as the remains other Nosferatu crumbled into ash and a faint breeze began to blow it away. Jasper groaned. He could have used him.

He had other priorities now. Number one was to get off the road. Jasper tried to shift his body but couldn't. He gritted his teeth against a scream of pain that tried to force its way out of his throat. He glanced up and down the road. He couldn't see any other headlights. The red tail lights of the truck that had hit them were already gone.

“Asshole didn't even stop,” he thought in a delirium of pain. “Hit and run.” It was good that the driver hadn’t stopped though. It meant that Jasper didn't have to do anything to him.

Jasper closed his eyes and concentrated. He had precious little Vitae to spare, but he had to heal, and quickly. He wouldn’t survive being run over again. His head swam. He was dangerously close to falling into Torpor. If he did, and if Victor or Nelli didn't find him in time, he was surely doomed.

He'd never see Chloe again.

He'd never see Annabelle again.

His fangs gritted. A groan that turned into a growl escaped through them as he forced his broken body to heal. His spine crunched, shattered bones clicking back into place, torn muscles and nerves knitting themselves back together. With his good arm, he reached and gripped the tarmac and pulled himself forward. It was slow and agonising. He reached again and felt the dry, scraggly grass at the edge of the road. He pulled himself towards it. His feet and legs tingled as feeling returned to them. They hurt, like a thousand needles in his flesh. He reached and pulled again and with a scream of pain and a burst of desperate effort, rolled himself off the road and down into the grassy ditch on the edge of it.

He rolled once, twice, and settled on his back. His broken arm was flopped across his chest. He lay there, still for a moment, trying to collect himself mentally. He hoped he was out of sight of the road. He turned his head and saw the glint of his knife that he had lost in the fight. It had been thrown clear. He grabbed it with his good arm and painfully, awkwardly, slipped it back into its hiding spot on his person.

He re-took stock of his condition. His spine was mostly healed. His back ached, but he could move his feet again, and he hoped that when he tried to walk, he would be able to. His legs were okay, only some road rash. His chest had been caved in under the vehicle’s tires. Almost every rib was still broken. He only had one good arm. His clothes were ripped and covered in Vitae and road dirt.

“Ow…” he whispered to himself. This was bad, but he knew he was probably also the luckiest Nosferatu in L.A. right now. That very easily could have been him with his head under the tires, or another truck could have come right after that first one and hit him again like roadkill. If only that other bastard had let him Soaring Leap away, but no, Jasper had been held down in some stupid murder/suicide thing. Well, joke’s on that other Nos, whatever the hell his name was. He was dust and Jasper was still in one piece… kind of.

Jasper focused and tried to repair his right arm. At the very least, he wanted to close that compound fracture. He made some slow, agonising progress. His wounds began to close, at least on the outside. The sound of it was disgusting. The internal damage across his body was deep, and it would take more Vitae for him to heal it all than he had in him.

Jasper didn't know how long he lay there. He could hear crickets and other night creatures around him. He reached the limit of his healing and his Beast rumbled with hunger. His ribs were still broken, though the bloody dent in his chest wasn't as extreme as it had been. His eyes stared up at the night sky. Dawn was oncoming. He had to move.

Jasper rolled over again and used his left arm to push himself up to his feet. He still had no strength in his right. He could move his hand and fingers, that was good, but the muscles inside the arm itself were still ruined. He got to his feet and tried to take a step. He stumbled, but didn't fall. Step by agonising step, keeping as out of sight as he could without using Vitae to make himself invisible, he began his slow march home.

Victor called shortly before he reached the L.A. River. His phone, by a miracle, was scratched, but otherwise undamaged. Jasper leaned against the sloping concrete wall at the edge of the river and answered the call. Every effort now went into keeping himself upright and keeping his voice steady.

“Hello?”

“Jasper? Where are you, man, are you okay?” Victor sounded worried.

“I'm okay,” Jasper lied. “I got hit by a car, but I'm okay. I'm heading home.”

“You got hit by a car?! What? Jasper-”

“I'm fine, really,” Jasper cut off. He chuckled and instantly regretted it as his ribs and internal organs screamed. “You should see the other guy.”

“Yeah, you were fighting that other Nos... what happened?”

“He pushed me onto the road. We were fighting, and... a car hit us. His head got destroyed. He's dust.” That much was true, if down played. It hadn't been a car that hit them, it had been an eighteen wheeler. “It was a hit and run. Driver never stopped. I don’t think they even saw us.”

“Oh, well... you sure you're okay?” Victor asked.

“Yeah, I'm good. I've had worse,” Jasper lied again.

“Are you going back to the college? I can send a car for you.”

“No, I'm... I'm almost home.” He could see his front door from where he was. “I'm good. I... I'll live.”

Victor sounded doubtful. “Okay, man, if you're sure.”

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Jasper said with a false smile.

“Okay,” Victor relented.

“Are you and Nelli okay?”

“Yeah, we're both fine. She broke a nail, though.” Victor laughed over the line. Jasper chuckled again and coughed. He could taste his own Vitae in his mouth. Not good. “We're going to look into who sent them,” Victor continued. “It could be the last bits of Blaine's gang, but that seems unlikely. It might have been the Ivory Tower.”

Jasper almost didn't care. “Okay, well... do me a favour, Victor?”

“Sure, man.”

“My battery's dying... can you call Annabelle for me?”

Annabelle was currently in Santa Monica. Jasper could feel her there. Though it was only a short drive away, it felt like it was on the other side of the world.

“Yeah, okay. Why?” Victor sounded a little suspicious now.

“She'll want to know about the attack. She'll be pissed if she has to find out about it second hand.”

That was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. There was barely a power on this earth that would have made Jasper willingly tell Victor the entire truth.

“That's fair enough. No problem,” Victor promised.

“Okay. I'm going to go.”

“Good bye.”

“'Bye.”

Jasper ended the call and almost dropped his phone. He put it away and pushed himself off the wall with a grimace. Stopping to take that call had killed any momentum he had, but at least it would keep the Baron of the Valley from sniffing around for a while. Also, it meant Annabelle would be told, which meant that she would probably try to see him.

Probably. He didn't want to hope too hard that she would seek him out right away. Hope wasn't a thing he indulged himself in any more. He and Annabelle had gotten extremely close in recent weeks with a degree of intimacy that he also hadn't allowed himself in a long time. Hers was the first blood he had tasted who had ever willingly offered it to him, with no mind tricks or false pretences. That made her a different kind of special than what she already was.

The sky in the far east was starting to grey and the birds in Griffith Park were singing a loud morning chorus by the time Jasper got to his door. Every step had been painful, but the fear of the sun kept him going. He pulled the hatch open with his left arm and slipped inside. He threw all his weight into closing it again, which made him grit his fangs in agony. He turned and staggered down his dark passage ways, but his strength failed him before he got down to his proper living and working area. He staggered, tried to catch himself with his right arm and fell on his face. He lay there, moaning and growling softly for a few seconds, then passed out.

**

He could hear someone calling his name. He could hear someone pounding on a metal door. Everything hurt. His back ached, his chest felt like was in a vice and his right arm felt like it had been ripped apart, then sewn back together by a bear. A blind bear with no medical degree.

“Jasper? Jasper? Are you there?”

It took him a moment to remember where he was and what had happened to him. He opened his eyes and his Beast started to writhe and rage in hunger. Injuries or no injuries, it wanted to rip apart anything and everything with blood inside it and fuck the consequences. He turned his head to look behind him, back towards where the sounds were coming from.

“Jasper?” There was more loud pounding on his front door.

It was Annabelle. Jasper tried to push himself to his feet. He managed it with a snarl and a grimace as he heard the hatch open.

“Jasper?” Annabelle's worried voice echoed down the tunnel towards him. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to break in... are you here?”

He found himself not minding her intrusion as much as he felt that he should have.

“I'm here,” he called to her. He winced. He sounded like he was in pain. That kind of thing can sometimes only be hidden for so long.

He heard her close the hatch and hurry towards him. She was using the flashlight on her phone to guide her. “Jasper?”

“Be careful,” he warned her as she came close. “I'm... very hungry.” He smiled without humour, his fangs very much on show.

She paused when she saw him in the dim light and put a hand to her mouth in shock. His hoodie was torn up and ruined. She could smell his Vitae. He was scraped and cut. He was holding his right arm stiffly up to his chest.

“You look terrible!”

“Oh, well...” He looked away from her, pretending to be gravely insulted.

“No, no, I mean... what happened to you? Victor said you'd been hit by a car, but...” She sounded very upset, but she hadn't come closer to him yet. She had taken his warning seriously.

“I may not have told Victor the whole truth,” Jasper said, looking at her again. “It wasn't a car. It was a semi truck.”

Annabelle gasped. She took a step towards him. He wanted to stop her, but he didn't. Part of him, and he was surprised to admit it wasn't just the hungry part of him, had missed her terribly.

“Oh, my God... Jasper...” She could see more of his injuries as she came closer, including how his chest had a frightening dent to it.

“I'm... I'll be okay,” he tried to assure her. His voice was rough. “I just need to heal some more, and I'll be fine. It looked worse before...”

Annabelle shook her head. “Come on... let's get you inside.” She put an arm around him, trying to help support him as gently as she could. He didn't try to resist. He found himself leaning rather heavily on her, but she supported him without issue.

Inside the sanctum itself, Annabelle steered them towards the bedroom. Jasper was a little confused, but didn't stop her. He was starting to snarl to himself under his breath, as his Beast tried to claw its way forwards. His new favourite food source was right there. Her hair smelled like the ocean. She was full of the precious Vitae that his Beast tried to claim was rightfully his for the taking.

“Jasper?” Annabelle asked, very worried.

“I'm okay,” he lied. “Just trying to keep control.” He realised he was shaking just a little bit. It hurt.

Annabelle sat him on his bed. He found himself laying back onto it with a groan. She bit her lip.

“You know... X told me you were in trouble. Right before Victor called me, I was talking with X and he said that you needed my help.”

Jasper snickered, and his laughter had a growl in it. “Good old X.”

“Will you let me help you?” she asked.

He knew she was talking about feeding him again, and although it was all he wanted in the world at that point, he still felt the need to try to warn her away. He shook his head. “It's too dangerous. I am very badly hurt and almost starving. The chances of me killing you are very, very high.”

“But the chances of you hurting or killing someone else if I don't are also very high,” she retorted.

“That is true,” he admitted.

She sighed for a moment, thinking. A large part of her wanted him to feed from her again, not just because it would keep other people safe from his hunger and not just because it would help her friend. When he bit her, she felt a dizzying array of sensations that she was ashamed to admit no mortal had ever given her. It wasn't better than sex, but it was on a very similar level. It was probably the next best thing, really. It was something she wanted to explore further with Jasper, if he wanted to as well.

“Can you take the hoodie off?”

His eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“I want to see how bad it is.”

“No, you don't,” he shook his head. “You really, really don't.”

“Your hoodie is ruined anyways,” she tried to argue. “It's all bloody and torn.”

“I don't mind that.”

“Jasper...” she pleaded.

“No.” He couldn’t understand why she wanted to see him shirtless. This wasn't the first time she had asked.

She sighed. “Okay, fine. Um... from what I've seen from the others, healing wounds takes a lot of blood, right?”

“Right,” Jasper confirmed.

Annabelle sat on the bed by Jasper's side. He almost wished she wouldn't. His Beast was getting difficult to control.

“And so if you feed from me, you run the risk of still starving even if you heal everything, right?”

“Right.”

“Could I lock you up, maybe? Just until you're under control?”

He laughed at her hypocrisy. It hurt to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. “You want to lock me up? You were the one who hated that I put someone in a cage in the first place! Besides, it would be easy for me to break out of there.”

Annabelle nodded, feeling foolish for suggesting it. “You're right. I'm an idiot.'

“No, you're not. It's a good idea, it just wouldn’t work.”

She thought the issue over a little more, and got another idea. “Do you have your knife?”

He looked at her suspiciously. “Yes.”

“Can I borrow it? Just for like, a minute.”

“Why?”

“I have another idea. Biting me is too dangerous, but you still need Vitae. What if I gave it to you in another way?”

“You want to cut yourself?”

Admitting that out loud wasn't something she was entirely comfortable with, but those were the circumstances she found herself in. “Yeah.”

He had to admit that might work. It would give Annabelle more control, and a weapon in case his Beast did frenzy again. He nodded reluctantly and shifted painfully on the bed to pull his blade out from its hiding place. It was long and sharp. It had been used many times during his Kindred existence, but it had been well maintained. He offered it to her, handle first.

Annabelle took it and gave him a little smile. “Thanks. I'll be right back!” And she disappeared out his bedroom door before he could stop her.

Jasper half sat, half lay on the bed, blinking and frowning in confusion. He could hear her moving about in another room, shifting things around. He heard a rattle of many small metal objects being carefully poured out. He snarled. He didn't like anyone going through his things, not even Annabelle. He sat up further, growling at the pain in his chest and back.

“Annabelle!” he called.

“Coming, just a second!”

He determined that she was in his workshop/cage room. His senses were not as supernaturally keen as some Kindred's, but he could definitely smell Annabelle's Vitae when it hit the air. His eyes went wide. His Beast wanted him to leap off the bed and pounce on her. He found himself gripping the bed frame with both hands to stop himself from doing that. It made his bad arm feel like it was full of angry fire ants.

Annabelle returned to the bedroom shortly later. She was carefully carrying a small plastic container in her hands. The container was full of her blood. There was also a thin streak of blood along the blade. Annabelle had no visible wounds. He guessed that she had cut her palm, bled into the container, then healed herself. Jasper recognised the container as one he had kept loose screws and nails in. She had emptied it, re-filled it with blood, and was now carrying it to him like he was sick in bed and being offered chicken soup. He smiled wildly and sharply, still snarling to himself.

Annabelle carefully passed him the plastic container, wary not to spill any of it. “Here... careful,” she said maternally.

He imminently poured the contents down his throat. He could taste her in it, but it lacked the satisfying feeling of sinking his fangs into flesh. Still, it was nourishment, and though his Beast grumbled, it too had to admit that Vitae was Vitae no matter the shape of its container and it was temporarily locked back in its prison again.

Annabelle watched Jasper as he greedily drank from the container, like a man lost on a raft at sea who had managed to fill a bowl with fresh rain water. He was extremely careful not to spill any of it. She still held the knife. She was proud of herself for coming up with this idea, but it still felt a little like they were taking a step backwards. This would do for now, but it lacked the intimacy she thought she wanted.

When the majority of the contents were gone, Jasper started to clean out the interior of the plastic container with his tongue, licking up all the bloody residue left behind. It looked a little gross, but Annabelle found herself faintly impressed with how long and dexterous Jasper's tongue seemed to be. “This was a good idea,” he said between licks.

“Thanks. I'm glad it worked.” She waited for him to finish, then passed him his knife back. He licked Vitae off the blade, careful not to cut himself on it. Annabelle thought her heart would skip a beat, if it were beating.

Jasper polished the blade on a sheet and put it away. He handed her the clean container. “Thank you. Please... put this back where it was?”

“Yeah, no problem.” She didn't imminently leave the room though. She had another idea. Jasper would need more Vitae, and she wanted to spend time with him, but she needed to restock her internal supply too. “Would it be okay if I left for a few hours and came back later? I'll feed and then come back and... we can do this again, but properly.” If she could blush right now, she would be crimson.

Jasper was quiet and still for a moment. He felt conflicted. Yes, he wanted Annabelle to do this thing she was suggesting. He wanted it badly. It was a little more than just wanting her blood though. He liked her company and she seemed to enjoy his. Since Tara left, his sanctum had been very tranquil. Normally, he liked that. There was a peace down here that was hard to find in Los Angeles. He enjoyed the quiet, but he had also enjoyed every minute he had spent with Annabelle here with him. That kind of positive reinforcement was difficult to deny.

On the other hand, he knew that it would mean going further and further down the metaphorical rabbit hole of this much closer, more intimate relationship he had with her, and he was frankly a little scared. He cared about Annabelle a lot, definitely more so now than he ever used to before, now that her Vitae was a part of him again. That meant that their bond could have the potential to be used against him, and that wasn't good. He wanted more and more of her each time. They were going to have to be very careful.

He could see that his silence was making Annabelle worried. He habitually ran his tongue over his fangs and Annabelle fidgeted in an interesting way. “Alright,” he said at last. “You'll come back later tonight?”

She nodded, a little eagerly. “Yeah.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. I'll be here.” He opened his mouth to say more, hesitated, then continued. “You can... let yourself in. I trust you.”

She looked surprised at that. She knew that was a big deal. “Oh! Um, sure. Thanks.”

“Don't make me regret that,” he warned her. “I'm not happy that our coterie knows exactly where I live, and if you tell anyone else about it, or, God forbid, take them here, I will hurt them and probably you as well.”

She nodded, looking a little worried again. “Jasper, I won't. You can trust me.”

He knew he could. Her blood in his told him so. He relented. “Okay.”

“Okay. I'll be back soon,” Annabelle promised. She left and he heard her put the screws and nails back into the container in his workshop and she saw herself out of his sanctum.

**

Jasper did several things while he waited to Annabelle to return. He let himself heal a little more, and managed to do so without rousing his Beast too much. His chest and back felt a lot better now. He could walk and move with little discomfort. His right arm still didn't feel right. It was stiff and had minimal strength. If he tried to stretch it, or lift anything heavy with it, his muscles screamed in protest. He wasn't worried. It would be healed completely after Annabelle came back. He changed his clothes. He didn't throw out the ruined hoodie. It could be salvaged in various ways. He checked to make sure his container of screws was back where it should be. He didn't trust Annabelle to put it back just so. He also charged his phone, and discovered several missed messages and calls from Annabelle. She had desperately tried to contact him for a few hours before banging on his door. He must have been unconscious in that tunnel for a long while past sunset. That was a little unnerving. He was very grateful that she had found him.

Annabelle returned a few hours later. She had a laptop bag with her. She too had changed her clothes, and was now wearing a basic black tank top under her red leather jacket. It was far too cold outside now for a mortal to get away with wearing that comfortably, but for Kindred the cold was less of an issue. She let herself into Jasper's haven, as she had been given permission to do so. Jasper heard her coming down the passage between his rooms and the outside world and greeted her at the door.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she smiled and assessed him. “You're looking better.”

“I'm feeling better, thank you. What's in the bag?”

“My computer. I thought... I don't know... we could watch some stuff, later.” Once again, if she could blush without using Vitae to do so, she would have.

Jasper smirked. “I don't have great internet down here.”

“I have some things saved on the hard drive,” Annabelle mumbled.

“Okay. If we have time, we might watch some things.”

A small moment of awkwardness settled in. Annabelle had an idea now of how she wanted things to go this time. She had been doing a lot of thinking about this. She barrelled onwards, gaining more confidence as she spoke.

“I'd like to do it in the bedroom this time,” she said, “if that's alright with you.”

Jasper arched an eyebrow at her and tilted his head. “Sure, I guess.” He could tell she was planning something, and wondered where she was going with this. He was willing to follow her though.

“After you, then,” she gestured towards the bedroom. “It's your house, after all.”

“Yes, it is.” Amused and intrigued, Jasper slunk back into his bedroom. His right arm was still held stiffly by his side.

Annabelle followed him and closed the door behind them. She put her laptop bag on the floor by the wall. “I have something I want to show you,” Annabelle announced. She dug out a baggie with several small plastic things inside. She showed them to Jasper. They were small plastic battery operated tea light candles. She flicked the switch on the bottom of one and showed him the fake flame. She beamed at him, her face illuminated with the orange light from the 'candle.' “Check it out! Safe candles for us! We don't have to worry about fire with these.”

Jasper chuckled, which didn't hurt as much as it used to. He took the little plastic candle from Annabelle and turned it over, examining it. He poked the little fake flickering fire with his long, pale finger. He bore his fangs as he smiled, and a little coil of anticipation bloomed in Annabelle's core. “Very clever,” he said in admiration.

Jasper had no furniture in this room, save for his bed, so Annabelle set about turning on the tea lights and placing them evenly on the floor around the room. She was satisfied with the light and atmosphere they created. It was subtly romantic.

“Why the candles, though?” Jasper asked.

“I want to... set a mood.” She took off her red jacket and left it with her bag. Jasper watched her closely. He was working out what her plan was. She gestured to the bed and they sat on it together.

“Alright, so...” Annabelle took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “I'm ready for you to feed again, if you'd like to. I went and fed earlier, so I'm good to go.”

Jasper nodded. He smiled slowly.

“But this time, we can do things a little differently... if you're okay with that,” Annabelle continued.

“How so?”

“I'm going to let you bite my neck.”

Jasper froze, staring at her. “Really?”

“Yes.” Annabelle tried not to fidget. “I've put a lot of thought into this, and yes. You can do that if you want, or we can stick to what we did before.” She lifted up her wrist that he had fed from in the past.

Jasper nodded slowly. What she was doing was a gift, a favour to him, after all, and if this was how she wanted to do it, then he approved. “I'm okay with... trying something different,” he said. He smiled with fangs again.

“Great! Okay. Um... here.” Annabelle considered for another moment, then turned around on the bed so she was sitting with her back to him. She moved her tank top and bra strap down her arm on her right side to expose as much of her neck and shoulder as she could without taking her top off all together. The gold chain from the heart locket given to her by Elleanore gleamed against her skin. Jasper thought that, from what he could see of her black bra strap and the faint impression of lace he could make out through the fabric of her top, that the bra Annabelle was wearing was a rather fancy one. He was no expert, of course, but he wasn't completely ignorant either. 'The Date Night set' would have been how Chloe would have described it, long ago. He wondered why Annabelle would have felt the need to wear something like that. He supposed she had started of thinking of these occasions of theirs as 'dates.'

Annabelle tilted her head and exposed her neck to him. Her skin was smooth and inviting. Her hair was well out of the way, she having chosen her undercut side for him to bite. She glanced back at Jasper, a little nervous, but her mind was set.

“Ready when you are,” she said softly.

Jasper quietly moved a little closer until his front was almost pressed against her back. His eyes were on her neck and shoulder. Her Vitae was there, so close he could almost smell it. He put his left hand gently on her back and left side, as a brace. Annabelle felt no breath on her skin. She knew there wouldn't be, but it was still a little unsettling. She could hear Jasper open his mouth in her right ear. She closed her eyes, anticipating the bite.

Jasper bit down into Annabelle's skin, right where the curve of her neck met her shoulder. She gasped and her eyes flashed open. She could see their shadows on the wall in the artificial candle light. She could feel Jasper's lips close around the wound, keeping any Vitae from escaping and dripping down her back. The pain was more acute and a little more fierce. The pleasure, when it hit, made Annabelle tremble. It seemed somehow better, more intense then when he had bitten her wrist. Her eyelids fluttered closed again as the fog of ecstasy rolled over her. She relaxed back into Jasper's body, leaning against him. A soft moan escaped her lips.

For Jasper, this was heaven. Her Vitae was sweet and strong. He could taste the Brujah strength and Annabelle's arousal. The fact that he was the cause of that arousal was not lost on him. Her gasps and moans were the only sounds in the room. Strength returned to Jasper's right arm and he brought it up to her shoulder. He gripped her tight as he drained her, gently but forcibly encouraging her blood to flow into him. His Beast clawed at its cage, encouraging him to keep going, more and more. Her strength could be his forever if he didn't stop. She probably wouldn't even stop him, wouldn't want to stop him, his Beast whispered.

He didn't listen to it. He was loving this, yes, but the last thing he wanted to do was to commit Diablerie against Annabelle. He was almost fully supporting her weight now. He glanced at her face and saw her eyes were closed and her mouth was open. He could see her fangs.

Experience told him he needed to stop now, least he take too much and drive her into her own hunger Frenzy. He pulled back with a snarl and ran his tongue over her skin, first catching an escaping crimson drip that was running down her back, then closing the wound left by his fangs. He could feel Annabelle shiver. He let her continue to lean limply back against him with her head resting against his shoulder. She exhaled a long, quiet moan. He smirked and kept his arms wrapped around her, holding her tenderly. He licked his lips and fangs, making sure his mouth was clean of Vitae.

After a few moments, Annabelle opened her eyes and turned her head a little to look at his face. Up close, his skin was foul, grey and dead. The black veins stood out starkly. She looked past that, into his eyes, and smiled the dopey smile of the recently pleasured. He smirked back at her.

“Good?” he asked softly.

“Good,” Annabelle nodded. She sounded breathy. “Really good. You?”

“I am perfectly good,” he smiled. She could see his fangs up close. God, they were scary. She closed her eyes and kept them closed while she recovered.

After several minutes, Annabelle sat up, lifting her weight off Jasper slowly. He steadied her with his hands until he was sure she wouldn’t fall over. She was obviously dizzy from the experience. She turned slowly back around to face him. They were quiet for a few moments, but it wasn't awkward this time. They just sat close to each other. Jasper knew, in this moment, that whatever bond he was developing with Annabelle was deeper now. He felt like he would want to do whatever she asked, if she asked him right this moment. He was glad he trusted her not to abuse this. Any of the others would have. She really was one of the few non-horrible Kindred he had ever known.

“Would you like to sleep over?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

She nodded once. “Yes, please,” she answered in a very similar tone to his.

He smiled and she smiled back.

They ended up sharing the bed, snuggled up against each other. Annabelle had her head against Jasper's shoulder and Jasper had an arm around her. They watched Bram Stoker's Dracula on Annabelle's laptop and debated whether or not Keanu Reeves really was immortal. Jasper pointed out that if he was, he should have developed a better English accent by now. Annabelle couldn’t come up with a sound argument against that.

[iamcmims]

SUPERNATURAL: Olivia Parker: Pilot

Words count: 13K

A/N: I was already rewriting Olivia Parker but then I decided to restart the whole story. So let’s do things right! Here is the pilot! Feedback is always highly appreciated! As well as constructive critics! If you want to be in the tag list, ask away! xo waywards!

Warning: Angst, ghost, deaths, blood.

Next parts: Wendigo — Dead In The Water — Phantom Traveler — Bloody Mary — Skin — Hook Man — The Fight — Home

Lawrence, Kansas.

Crickets chirp, a large deciduous tree with no leaves rises outside one of several suburban homes.

In one of them was a family of three. Caitlyn and Roger Parker, and their daughter, Olivia. Olivia was sitting on her bed in the darkened bedroom, looking at her closed closet. Her breath was short and frantic; she was holding her covers tight, eyes wide open, full of fear. Slowly, the doors of the closet opened themselves. Olivia gasped and screamed.

In another house, Mary and John Winchester, and their two sons, Sam and Dean were getting ready to go to sleep. In the nursery, Mary was wearing a white nightgown, carrying her oldest son, Dean in her arms. "Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother."          Mary turns on the lights of the nursery; Sam was lying in his crib, looking over at Mary and Dean. Mary sets Dean down, who leans over the side of the crib and kisses his little brother on the forehead, making Mary smile. "'Night, Sam" Mary leans over Sam as well, "Goodnight, love."          Mary brushes Sam's hair back and kisses his forehead.

Caitlyn runs into Olivia's room, "What's wrong honey?" Olivia's eyes stay focused on the closet that was empty. Caitlyn's state shift from her daughter to the closet, then back to her daughter. She walks to the bed and gently puts her hand on Olivia's cheek. "Sweety, look at me." Olivia turns her head, facing her mother. "There is nothing in the closet. I promise.", "But the doors opened, mom!"          "It means that I didn't close them correctly, that's all. You're fine. Come on; you're going to sleep with your father and me."

John enters the nursery where Mary, Sam, and Dean were. "Hey, Dean." Dean turns around, facing his father, then rushes over to him. "Daddy!" John scoops Dean up. "Hey, buddy. So, what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?" Dean shakes his head, laughing. "No, Daddy." John laughs at his son. "No." He repeats.          Mary passes John and Dean on the way out of the room, "You got him?" John hugs Dean closer, "I got him." He looks at Sam before leaving the nursery, "Sweet dreams, Sam." John carries Dean out of the room, flipping off the lights on his way. Sam watches them go, gurgling, trying to reach his toes.

"She's been having nightmares every night lately, Roger.", "She will be fine. I used to have a lot of nightmares, too. Don't worry." Caitlyn looks at her cup of tea, she stands up and put it in the sink. "I'm going to sleep; you're coming?", "In a minute." On her way to her bedroom, Caitlyn passes Oliva's, she gives a quick look inside the room and sees the closet she closed a second time earlier, wide open.

The baseball-themed mobile above Sam's crib begins to spin on its own while Sam watches. The transportation-themed clock on the wall ticks twice and then stops. The moon-shaped nightlight flickers.          Lights flicker on the baby monitor sitting on the nightstand next to a photo of Mary and John. Strange noises come through the monitor, Mary, asleep in bed, stirs. She turns on the light on the nightstand, "John?" She turns and realizes that John isn't in bed with her. She puts the covers away and gets up. She walks down the hall to Sam's nursery. A silhouette stands over Sam's crib; Mary takes it as John. "John? Is he hungry?" The silhouette turns his head, "Shhh.", "All right."          Mary heads back down the hallway, the light by the stairs is flickering, making Mary frown and tap at it until the light steadies. "Hm." More flickering light is coming from downstairs, Mary goes to investigate. A war movie is on Tv; John has fallen asleep watching it. Mary runs back upstairs when she realizes that if John is here asleep on the couch, then it means the silhouette in Sam's nursery is a stranger. "Sammy! Sammy!"

Caitlyn slowly opens the door of Olivia's bedroom, looking around if there was something, someone, she puts her gaze back on the closet. "What the…" She looks inside and sees nothing. She closes the doors for the third time tonight. She pulls at the door handle to see if it's closed correctly and locks the door. "All right."

Mary enters Sam's nursery and stops then screams, waking up John who's downstairs. "Mary?" John scrambles out of the couch, "Mary!" He runs upstairs. He bursts through the closed door of the nursery. "Mary." The room is quiet and appears empty except for Sam awake in his crib, John glances around and pushes down the side of Sam's crib. "Hey, Sammy. You okay?"          Something dark drips next to Sam. John touches it. Two more drops land on the back of John's hand, looking like blood. John looks up and sees Mary sprawled across the ceiling, the stomach of her nightgown red with blood, staring at John and struggling to breathe. John collapses onto the floor at the sight of his wife. "No! Mary!"

After Caitlyn closed the door of the bedroom, the closet once again opened itself, this time a silhouette comes out of it, it looks around until it spots what it was looking for. The shape walks to the wooden desk and takes a picture of Olivia and her parents. "It has begun."

Mary bursts into flames, the fire spreads over the ceiling, John stares at it, frozen. Sam wails, reminding John that he's not alone. He gets up and scoops Sam out of his crib and rushes out of the room.          All of the noise in the nursery woke Dean up who got out of bed. He was in the hall searching for his parents. "Daddy!" John shoves Sam into Dean's arms, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!" Dean listens to his father, he turns and runs with Sam in his arms. John turns back to the nursery. "Mary!" Then the entire room catches on fire, making it barely impossible to see Mary. "No!"

Olivia who was sleeping in her parent's bed jerked her eyes open wide as if a nightmare awakened her. She looks around her and sees her parents asleep. Olivia stands up and gets out of the bed. She walks to her bedroom, opens the door and looks inside, scared. "Hello?" there is no answer. She takes a deep breath and gets inside. She sees the closet's door closed, she looks around the room, realizing there was nothing. She closes the door and gets into her bed. She then looks up at the ceiling, "Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God’s love commits me here, ever this night be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen."

Dean runs outside, holding Sam. "It's okay, Sammy." Dean turns to look up at Sam's window, which is lit with golden fire. John runs outside, scoops up Dean and Sam as he carries both of them away. "I got you." Fire explodes out of Sam's nursery window.

A call from the fire department awakened Olivia's father, Roger as the chief of the department. "What's wrong?" Asks Caitlyn, slowly waking up by her husband's movements. "A house on fire. I got to go." Roger kisses his wife and leaves the house.          The Lawrence fire department has arrived, a firefighter gets out of a truck and takes over at the gauges for another firefighter. "I got it. You go hold the lineup."          The second firefighter goes to the back of the truck and takes a hose from a third firefighter. He takes the tube towards the house where a fourth fighter is spraying through Sam's nursery window. A paramedic opens up the back of an ambulance. A police officer waves some neighbors back. "Stay back. You have to stay back!"          Roger arrives at the scene; he looks at the house and whistle. "Oh my, God." He then looks at his men in actions and goes to them to help.          Across the street from the house, John and Dean sit on the hood of John's Impala. John was holding Sam, as Dean was resting on his father. John looks up at the remnants of the fire, tears in his eyes.

31st October 2000.

Olivia was dressed in black, looking at herself in a mirror, a sad look on her face. A slight knock on the door takes her out of her thoughts. "Come in." Caitlyn opens the door and looks at her daughter. "Are you ready?" Olivia closes her eyes, trying to keep her anger inside. "Yes. As ready as I can be on the day I bury my husband a child." Caitlyn sighs and doesn't answer.          “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction. Father, We are grieving over the unexpected loss of our brother, Conor, and son, Joey. Lord, just last Sunday Conor was telling me how excited he was to be part of this church. He was on fire for You, Father. We all saw how joy radiated from him. His love for You was unquenchable, and we are mourning the loss of this incredible man. Father, be with his wife. Raise this congregation up to be the hands and feet of Jesus to this family. Father, love on Conor’s wife. Wrap Your arms around her, for there will be a day when she sees him again in Heaven. Father, speak tenderly to his wife and comfort her in this unbearable time of life. Father, this is a very tragic event, and yet we know that nothing surprises You. So, in faith, we continue to ask and seek Your will in this most desperate time of need. Father, shower this family with love and affection as they grieve through this painful time. We love You, and thank You for Jesus! Amen."          Olivia stayed until she was all alone, she bent on her knees and looked back and forth at the two graves. "I'm going to find what did this to you, I promise. And I'm going to kill it, no matter what it takes."

October 31st, 2005.

"Sam!" A young blond woman calls after Sam. she comes around a corner, wearing a sexy-nurse costume and adjusting her hat. The photo of Mary and John was on the dresser. "Get a move on, would you? We were supposed to be there like fifteen minutes ago." Jess, the young woman, walks off. "Sam! You're coming or what?" Sam pokes his head around the corner. He's wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, not a costume. "Do I have to?", "Yes! It'll be fun." Sam comes into the room. "And where is your costume?" Sam laughs and ducks his head. "you know how I feel about Halloween.          The bar where Sam and Jess were supposed to go, was decorated for Halloween, including a gargoyle with cobwebs and a baseball hat that screamed "GET NAKED" in capital letters. Everyone was in a costume, following the Halloween tradition.          Jess raises a glass as a young man in ghoul costume, Luis, comes up to the table where Sam and Jess are. Sam was the only one in the bar that wasn't wearing a costume. "So here's to Sam—" Jess looks and him and smiles, "—and his awesome LSAT victory.", "All right, all right. It's not that big of a deal." The three of them clink glasses. "Yeah. He acts all humble. But he scored one seventy-four." Luis drinks and shot and so does Sam. "Is that good?" Asks Luis. "Scary good." Adds Jess, proud of Sam's results, then drinks her shot. "So there you go. You are a first-round draft pick. You can go to any law school you want!" Luis sits next to Sam. "Actually, I got an interview here. Monday. If it goes okay, I think I got a shot at a full ride next year.", "Hey. It's gonna go great." Jess reassures Sam. "It better." Sam looks down. "How does it feel to be the golden boy of your family?" Sam shudders at the mention of his family. "Ah. They don't know."          "Oh, no, I would be gloating! Why not?", "Because we're not exactly in the Bradys.", "And I'm not exactly the Huxtables. More shots?", "No." Jes and Sam speak at the same time. Luis goes up to the bar anyway. Jess looks at Sam. "No, seriously. I'm proud of you. And you're gonna knock 'em dead on Monday, and you're gonna get that full ride. I know it.", "What would I do without you?", "Crash and burn." Jess smiles and pulls Sam in for a kiss, not knowing the effect her phrase had on her boyfriend.

A group of five men was at a local bar, laughing and looking around until one of them dropped his eyes on Olivia. He smirks and walks to her. "You're not from this town." Olivia looks up, startled by the man's words. "N-no..." He chuckles and sits in the booth in front of her. "It's nice to see new faces. We don't get the chance to a lot, around here." He looks behind him at his friends then back at Olivia. "I'll tell you what, you look a little lost. So I can help you. If you want you can crash at my place for as long as you're here." Olivia looks at him, surprised. "Really? You'd do that?"          Olivia and the man were walking out of the bar together. The four other men watched them and laughed. "And another one!"          Olivia was walking beside the man in a dark alley until the man stopped walking and took Olivia's arm. "Hey, what are you doing?" He opens his mouth and shows his vampire teeth. "Let's have a little fun," Olivia smirked. "Alright." She kicked the vampire and got a machete out of her jacket, "Hunter!" Olivia smiled and tilted her head, "Did you really think I would be this stupid? Come on, show me some respect." As she finished her sentence, Olivia swung her machete, beheading the vampire. "Eat this, bitch."

Sam and Jess were lying in bed, asleep back to back. A sound outside the room, like a window opening, wakes up Sam. He stands up, leaves the bedroom and looks around the apartment.          A window is open while Sam was sure he closed it before going to bed. Footsteps are heard, a man walks past the strings of beads at the far end of the hall. Sam moves to another part of the apartment and waits. The man enters the room, Sam lunges forward and grabs the man at the shoulder. The man knocks Sam's arm away and aims a strike at Sam, who ducks. The man grabs Sam's arm, swings him into another room. The man elbows Sam in the face; Sam kicks at his head, the man ducks, and swings, Sam blocks. The man knocks Sam down and pins him to the floor, one hand at Sam's neck and the other holding Sam's wrist. "Whoa, easy, tiger." Sam breathers hard, "Dean?"          Dean laughs, "You scared the crap out of me!" Adds Sam, obviously pissed. "That's 'cause you're out of practice." Sam grabs Dean's hand and yanks, slamming his heel into Dean's back and Dean to the floor. "Or not." States Dean. Sam taps Dean twice where Sam was holding him. "Get off of me." Demands Dean. Sam rolls to his feet and pulls Dean up. "What the hell are you doing here?", "Well, I was looking for a beer." Dean puts his hands on Sam's shoulders, shakes once, and then let's go. "What the hell are you doing here?" Asks Sam one more time. "Okay. All right. We have to talk.", "Uh, the phone?", "If I'd called, would you have picked up?"

Olivia was waiting in the dark alley next to the vampire's body for the rest of the group to come. After a moment she heard footsteps, "What the hell is he doing?", "Never took him this long before.", "Maybe he's having a little more fun.", "Shut up." Olivia stands up straight, her machete in hand, she sees the vampires in front of her and smiles. "Your friend encountered a slight…problem." The vampires started to run to Olivia; she swung her machete enough of times to behead three of them. There was only one left, she looks at him and slowly walks to him, "Now. I hate vampires, even more, the movie Twilight. You're not really smart, dropping five bodies in the same town, and not leaving the said town. You were calling for me." The vampire hiss at Olivia, she rolls her eyes and sighs, "Oh come on. You can do better. Seriously. Live up to your kind! Come on! Attack me!" She raises her arms in the air, tempting the vampire. He falls into the trap and attacks Olivia, she kicks him, making him fall to the ground, she puts her foot on his throat. "You should know that us hunters are always going to end up killing you. This is a war you're never going to win." She raises the machete and beheads the vampire. She cleans her weapon on the dead body, stands up, walks to her car and drives off.

Jess turns the light on. She was wearing very short shorts and a cropped Smurfs shirt. "Sam?" Sam and Dean turn their heads at the same time, facing Jess. "Jess. Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." Dean looks at her appreciatively. "Wait, your brother Dean?" Jess smiles. Sam nods, and Dean grins at her and moves closer. "Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.", "Just let me put something on." Jess turns to go, but Dean's voice stops her, "No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously." Dean goes back over to Sam without taking his eyes off Jess. Sam watches him, his expression stony. "Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you.", "No." Sam goes over to Jess and puts an arm around her. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.", "Okay." Dean turns to look at them both straight on. "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days.", "So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later." Dean smirks, ducks his head and looks back up. "Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."          Sam's expression doesn't change while he takes what his brother said in. Jess glances up at Sam. "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside." As Sam and Dean head downstairs. "I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you.", "You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dead's missing. I need you to help me find him.", "You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine." Dean stops and turns around, so does Sam. "Not for this long. Now, are you gonna come with me or not?", "I'm not.", "Why not?", "I swore I was done hunting. For good.", "Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." Dean starts downstairs again, Sam follows him. "Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a 45." Dean stops at the door to the outside. "Well, what was he supposed to do?", "I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark.", "Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course, you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there.", "Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her." Dean glances outside. "But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find." Dean looks back at his brother. "We save a lot of people doing it, too." There is a brief silence. "You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Dean rolls his eyes and slams the door open.         There is a short flight of stairs from the door to the parking lot, Sam and Dean climb it. "The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Mean, Dean, we were raised like warriors." They cross the parking lot to the Impala. "So what are you going to do? You're just going to live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?", "No. Not normal. Safe.", "And that's why you ran away." Dean looks away. "I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was going to go, I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.", "Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Sam stays silent. "I can't do this alone, Sam.", "Yes you can." Dean looks down, "Yeah, well, I don't want to." Sam sighs and looks down, thinking, then he looks back at Dean. "What was he hunting?"          Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment. It's an arsenal, he props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter. "All right, let's see. Where the hell did I put that thing?", "So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?", "I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans.", "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Dean looks over at Sam. "I'm twenty-six, dude." Dean pulls some papers out of a folder. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy—" Dean handed one of the papers to Sam. "—they found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA."          The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined 'Centennial Highway Disappearance' and dated September 19th, 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned 'Andrew Carey MISSING." Sam reads it and glances up. "So maybe he was kidnapped.", "Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." Dean tosses down another Jericho Herald article for each date he mentions. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two. Then of them over the past twenty years." Dean takes the article back from Sam and picks up the rest of the stack putting them back in the folder. "All men, all the same, five-mile stretch of road." Dean pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough." Dean grabs a handheld tape recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday." He presses play. The recording is staticky, and the signal was clearly breaking up. "Dean…something big is starting to happen…I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may… Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger." Dean presses stop. "You know there's EVP on that?", "Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head. "All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." He presses play again, then the voice of a woman is heard "I can never go home…" Dean presses stop. "Never go home," Sam repeats what the woman said. Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it. "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him." Dean nods. "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." Sam turns to go back to the apartment. He turns back when Dean speaks. "What's first thing Monday?", "I have this… I have an interview.", "What, a job interview? Skip it.", "It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate.", "Law school," Dean smirks. "So we got a deal or not?" Dean says nothing.

Olivia was driving a Black 1965 Buick Riviera Gran Sport; there was blood on her tee-shirt and hands from the fight with the vampires. She looked ahead, listening to the radio, tears streaming down her face. 'There's another world inside of me that you may never see. There's secrets in this life that I can't hide Somewhere in this darkness, there's a light that I can't find Maybe it's too far away; maybe I'm just blind Maybe I'm just blind So hold me when I'm here, right me when I'm wrong Hold me when I'm scared and love me when I'm gone Everything I am and everything in me Wants to be the one you wanted me to be.' As the song kept playing the flashbacks of her old life came back to her, the day she met Conor. When he told her he loved her for the first time when he proposed, the wedding, when she found out, she was pregnant. 'When your education x-ray cannot see under my skin I won't tell you a damn thing that I could not tell my friends And roaming through this darkness, I'm alive, but I'm alone Part of me is fighting this, but part of me is gone.' The flashback of the night of the accident came back; she was no longer focusing on the road until she hears a honk and sees a truck in front of her, the turns the wheel and stops the car on the fields next to the road. She puts her hands on her face, trying to calm herself. "I'm so sorry…"

Sam is packing a duffel bag, he pulls out a sizeable hook-shaped knife and slides it inside. Jess comes into the room. "Wait, you're taking off?" Sam looks up. "Is this about your dad? Is he all right?", "Yeah. You know, just a little family drama." Sam goes over to the dresser and turns on the lamp. "Your brother said he was on some kind of hunting trip." Jess sits on the bed, Sam rummages in one of the drawers and comes out with a couple of shirts and puts them in the duffel. "Oh yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin, he's probably got Jim, Jack, and José along with him. I'm just going to bring him back.", "What about the interview?", "I will make the interview. This is only for a couple of days." Sam goes around the bed. Jess gets up and follows. "Sam, I mean, please." Sam stops and turns, "just stop for a second. You're sure you're okay?" Sam laughs a little, "I'm fine.", "It's just… you won't even talk about your family. And now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? AAnd with Monday coming up, which is kind of a huge deal.", "Hey. Everything's going to be okay. I will be back in time, I promise." He kisses her on the cheek and leaves. "At least tell me where you're going!"

In Jericho, California, a young man, Troy, is driving down the highway, talking on his cell phone. "Amy, I can't come over tonight. Because I've got work in the morning, that's why — Yeah, okay, I miss it, and my Dad is gonna have my ass." A high pitched whine is heard, Troy looks over and sees a woman in a white dress on the side of the road. She's moving as though dancing; she flickers, and for a moment she's gone. "Hey, ah, Amy, let me call you back?" Troy tires several times to turn off the radio, which is flickering, but nothing happens. Troy pulls up next to the woman whose dress is torn in several places, and stops, leaving across the shotgun seat. "Car trouble or something?" There is a long pause before the woman answers, "take me home?" The voice was identical to the altered voicemail of John. Troy opens the passenger door. "Sure, get in."          The woman who is barefoot; climbs in and closes the door. "So, where do you live?", "At the end of Breckenridge Road." Troy nods. "You're coming from a Halloween party or something?" Troy notices the woman's dress is very low-cut, he stares then looks away, laughing nervously. "You know, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here." She looks at him mournfully, seductively, and then pulls her skirt up over her thigh. "I'm with you." Troy looks away. The woman takes Troy's chin and turns his face towards her. "Do you think I'm pretty?" Try nods; eyes stuck on her cleavage. "Uh…huh.", "Will you come home with me?", "Um. Hell yeah." Troy drives off.          They pull up to an old abandoned house at the end of a road. The woman stares at it sadly. "Come on. You don't live here.", "I can never go home.", "What are you talking about? Nobody even lives here. Where do you live?" Troy turns, but the woman is gone. He checks the back seat, also empty. He gets out of the car, nervous. "That's good. Joke's over, okay? You want me to leave?" Troy looks around: no signs of life except crickets. He slowly walks towards the house. "Hello? Hello?"          There is a picture of the woman and two children covered in dust inside the house. Troy peers through the hole in the screen door. A bird flies at his face, scaring him into falling over. He yells, leaps to his feet, and runs back to the car. He gets in and drives off.         Troy looks behind him—no one's there—then in the review mirror, the woman is in the backseat. Troy yells again and drives straight through a 'Bridge Closed' sign, stopping about halfway across the bridge. He screams, and then blood spatters the windows.

November 1st, 2005.

The Impala was parked in front of a pump. 'Ramblin' Man" by the Allman Brothers was playing on the radio. Dean comes out of the convenience mart, carrying junk food. Sam was sitting in the shotgun seat with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes. "Hey!" Sam leans out and looks at his brother. "You want breakfast?", "No thanks. So how'd you pay for that stuff? Are you and Dad still running credit cards scams?", "Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career." Dean puts the nozzle back on the pump. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards.", "Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam swings his legs back inside the car and closes the door. "Uh, Burt Aframian." Deans gets into the driver seat and puts his soda and chips down. "And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." Dean closes the door. "That sounds about right. I swear, man, you have to update your cassette tape collection." There are at least a dozen cassettes in the box on Sam's lap; some have album art, others are hand-labeled, probably written by Dean or John. Dean looks at Sam, "Why?", "Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Sam holds a tape for every band he names, as to press his point. Dean takes the box labeled Metallica from Sam. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock.", "Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape in the player. "Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cakehole" Dean drops the Metallica tape back in the box of cassettes and starts the engine. "You know, " starts Sam, "Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. It's Sam, okay?" Dean turns on the music a little bit louder and moves his head to the rhythm. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud." Sam shakes his head; Dean drives off.

Olivia's car stops at a motel in Baltimore, Maryland. The receptionist looks weirdly at Olivia who was still covered in blood. "Can I have a room, please?" Seeing that the receptionist wasn't sure, she sighs, "I'm a vet, I'm off duty, rescued a dog." The man nods and gives Olivia his key, "Room 37." She nods and climbs the stairs to her room, she opens the door, looks inside, she closes the door, locks it and takes off her machete then her jacket. She sits on the bed, takes her phone and dials the number of someone. "Hey, mom. — Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry. — I don't know. Work is busy lately. I might stay for a little bit longer. — I know I said I would be here. I'm sorry. — Alright, I'm going to take a shower. Tell dad I love him. — Okay. Bye. Love you." She hangs up, puts her phone on her bed, stands up and walks to the bathroom. When she looks in the mirror, she sees all of the blood on her face, no wonder why the receptionist was freaking out. She turns her head and turns on the water.          After her shower she puts on a tee-shirt and walks to her bag, she takes out a journal and a pen. 'November 1st, 2005. Still nothing. I killed another nest of vampire, a ghoul, and a witch. If they knew something about the accident, they would have never told me. I don't know what to do. I need to find who — or what killed Conor and Joey. I need to find it and kill it. But for that, I know I need to find someone. I need to find John Winchester.'

Sam and Dean drive past a sign that says 'JERICHO 7.'          'Thank you." Sam closes his phone. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So, that's something, I guess." Dean glances over at Sam, then back at the road. At a bridge ahead of them, there are two police cars and several officers. "Check it out." Sam leans forward for a closer look. Dean pulls over. They take a long look before Dean turns off the engine. Dean opens the glove compartment and pulls out a box full of ID cards with his and John's faces. He picks one out and grins at Sam, who stares. "Let's go." Dean gets out of the car. On the bridge, the lead Deputy — Deputy Jaffe, leans over the railing to yell down to two men in wetsuits who were poking around the river. "You guys find anything?", "No! Nothing!" Jaffe turns back to the car in the middle of the bridge. It was Troy's car, but all of the blood was gone. Another Deputy — Deputy Hein, is at the driver's side looking around inside the car. "No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean." Sam and Dean walk into the crime scene as if they were supposed to be there. "So, this kid, Troy. He's dating your daughter, isn't he?" Asks Jaffe. "Yeah." Answers Hein. "How's Amy doing?", "She's putting up missing posters downtown.", "You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Jaffe looks up when Dean starts to talk and straightens up to talk to him. "And who are you?" Dean flashes his badge. "Federal marshals.", "You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?" Dean laughs. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you."          Dean goes over to the car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?", "Yeah, that's right. About a miles up to the road. They've been others before that.", "So, this victim, you knew him?" Jaffe nods at Sam. "Town like this, everybody knows everybody." Dean circles the car, looking around. "Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?", "No. Not so far as we can tell.", "So what's the theory?" Sam goes over to Dean. "Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?", "Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Sam stomps on Dean's foot to make him stop talking. "Thank you for your time." Sam gives a quick nod of the head and starts to walk away, followed by Dean. "Gentlemen." Adds Sam Sam again.  Jaffe watches them go. Dean smacks Sam on the head. "Ow! What was that for?", "Why'd you have to step on my foot?", "Why do you have to talk to the police like that?" Dean looks at Sam and moves in front of him, forcing Sam to stop walking. "Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad, we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Sam clears his throat and looks over Dean's shoulder. Dean turns, it's Sheriff Pierce and two FBI Agents. "Can I help you, boys?" Dean looks at the Sheriff and shakes his head, "No, sir, we were just leaving." As the FBI Agents walk pas Dean, he nods at each of them. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." Sam and Dean head past the Sheriff, who turns to watch them leave.

Olivia was in front of a house that looked like it was abandoned. Some part of the front of the house was no longer white but deep black as if there has been a fire inside the house. Olivia that was still in the car looks away from the house; she closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath. "I can do this." She turns the engine off and gets out of the car. She stands a little bit before crossing the road. She puts her car keys in her back pocket of her jeans after taking a single key. She slowly puts the key in the lock, then opens the door. As the door opens, she sees the burned room in front of her. She takes a deep breath and closes the door behind her. She looks around as she moves to the kitchen, everything was intact as if the accident never happened but when she turned around and faced the living room once again, the flashbacks of this night came back.

* On a Sunday afternoon, Olivia was helping her son Joey clean his bedroom after his friends left. "You know, Joey. I don't get how you can mess your room this much." As Joey usually does, he looked at his mom with his brown eyes and tilted his head, "It's all about the fun, Mom." Olivia shook her head and answered with a slight 'Hm hm' before going back to her task. Joey frowned while looking outside at the garden. "Mom. Who is in the yard?" Olivia stands up straight, she walks closer to the window, looks outside and sees a man in a black tux. "What the…?" She leaves the bedroom and goes to the yard. The man was still standing there, looking at Joey's bedroom. "Hey. Get out of here before I call the cops." The man ignored Olivia, so she moved closer to him drawing his attention to her, "I said, get out. If I find you here again, I will kill you. You understand me?" The man didn't answer and left the property. Olivia stands there for a second before going back to Joey's bedroom, finishing the cleaning.          Olivia was sitting at a table, her husband, Conor sitting in front of her. She was looking at her half empty glass of wine. "He didn't move, not until I put myself in front of him. He was fixing Joey's bedroom.", "Well, you called the Sheriff, but just to be safe, keep your gun next to you." Olivia looks up at her husband. "What do you think, Conor? I have it on me, loaded." Conor sighs. "It's not your fault, Livy." Olivia scoffed. "Conor. He wasn't human. Trust me." She got up and went to the kitchen. She drank the rest of the wine and put the glass in the sink. She turns around and faces her husband. "I gave up hunting, Conor. But my instincts are still there, okay?" Conor stood up and walked closer to his wife. "I know, I didn't mean that. What I mean is, this man whether he's human or not, is not here because of you.", "Well," Olivia stands up straight and crosses her arms. "I won't wait to find out.", "What do you mean?", "I mean that I may not be the life anymore, but I'm not stupid. I didn't throw anything away, and certainly didn't erase every number.", "Who are you going to call?", "John Winchester, and see if he can help me. After all, he's the one who trained me."         That night before going to bed, Olivia took her phone and dialed John Winchester's number. "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean 866-907-3235. He can help." She won't call Dean, so she hung up and went to the basement where all of her weapons, journals, and hunting equipment were. She took holy water, salt, and an iron self-defense punch ring. Then she heard a loud noise coming from the house. She looks up, loads her gun and walks to the door. "Conor, everything's okay?" No answer. She aims her gun in front of her, when she reaches the living room, it was empty, she lowers her weapon and looks around, then something fell on her shoulder. She looked at it and saw a red liquid. Then another drop falls, she looks up and sees her husband and child on the ceiling, "No!" The ceiling catches fire, she ducks a little bit and puts her arm in front of her face. "Olivia!" She turns around and sees John. "Come let's get out.", "No! I can't leave them there!" John forces Olivia out of the house.          John put Olivia in the passenger seat and drove to the motel he was staying. "How did you know?" John looked at Olivia then back at the road, "One call was enough to know you were in trouble." Olivia nods and looks back at the window. "What—" Olivia closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and start her sentence again, "What happened back there… It's the same thing that happened to you, to Mary.", "I know, I'm sorry Kiddo." John looks at Olivia, then back on the road. "We're going to find it, I promise.", "I know. Even if it is the last thing I do."          After an unknown amount of time driving, John finally pulls over in front of a motel; he gets out of the car, when he expects Olivia to follow him, he turns around and sees her looking straight ahead, still in the car. He decides to leave her alone for a moment, understand her feeling. When John entered the room, Dean stood up, "How is she?", "She's in the car.", "What? Why?", "What killed Mary killed her husband and child." Dean's eyes went wide, he sat back on the bed, shocked. John watches him and sighs. "Give her an hour, if she's not back, go see her." Dean nodded. "Yes, sir." *

After this night, Olivia stayed with John and Dean; then John disappeared, Dean went on to find him while Olivia kept hunting, the last time she heard from Dean was when Sam's girlfriend died the same way Mary, Conor, and Joey did. It was enough for Olivia to get even angrier and dangerous, spending all of her time to find the thing that killed the people she loved.

The marquee on the Highland Movie Theater reads 'Emergency Town Hall Meeting Sunday 8 PM, Be safe out there.' A young woman is tacking up posters with Try's face and the caption 'Missing Troy Squire." Sam and Dean approach. "I'll bet you that's her." Sam looks at the woman, "Yeah." They walk up to the woman; Dean looks at the posters then back at the woman. "You must be Amy." She turns around and looks at Sam then at Dean. "Yeah.", "Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean; this is Sammy.", "He never mentioned you to me." Amy walks away, Sam and Dean walk with her. "Well, that's Troy. I guess. We're not around much; we're up in Modesto.", "So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around." Adds Sam, then another young woman comes up to Amy and puts a hand on her arm. "Hey, are you okay?" Amy nods, "Yeah." Sam looks at Amy, "You mind if we ask you a couple of questions?" Another poster about Troy's missing flaps in the breeze in front of Amy, she nods.          The four of them are sitting in a booth, Sam and Dean opposite Amy and her friend, Rachel. "I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and…he never did.", "He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Amy looks at Sam and shakes her head, "No. Nothing I can remember." Sam looks at her necklace, "I like your necklace." Amy holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it. "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—" She laughs, "with all that devil stuff." Sam laughs a little and looks down, then up. "Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is a protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." Dean rolls his eyes, "Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries." Dean takes his arm off the back of Sam's seat and leans forward. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…" Amy and Rachel look at each other. "What is it?" Asks Dean, seeing that they knew something. "Well," begins Rachel "it's just—I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Sam and Dean get closer to the women, and speaks at the same time, "What do they talk about?", "It's kind of this local legend. This one girl?" Rachel takes a deep breath. "She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean looks at Sam, who observes Rachel, nodding. "Well, supposedly she's still out there." Sam nods. "She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever." Sam and Dean looked at each other when Rachel finished her story.

A web browser is open to the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. The words 'Female Murder Hitchhiking' are written into the search box. Dean clicks 'go,' the screen tells him there are '(0) Result." Dean replaces 'Hitchhiking' with 'Centennial Highway' with the same response. Sam is sitting beside him, watching, "Let me try." Dean smacks Sam's hand away, "I got it." Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over. "Dude!" Dean hits Sam in the shoulder. "You're such a control freak." Sam ignores Dean and goes on the research. "So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?", "Yeah.", "Well, maybe it's not murder." Sam replaces 'Murder' with 'Suicide' and finds an article entitled 'Suicide On Centennial." Dean glances at Sam who opens the article, dated April 25th, 1981.          'A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the County Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leaped off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night.          Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several (minutes). She reported that their complex—(…)          What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it," said husband, Joseph Welch. "Now I ask that you all, please respect my privacy during this trying time."          At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager.          "Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew," said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. "She just doted on those children."

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river" Sam repeats to Dean what he read. There is a picture of Constance, the woman who killed Troy. "Does it say why she did it?", "Yeah.", "What?", "An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." Dean raises his eyebrows. "Hm. Death of a child can destroy a mother, trust me." Dean thinks of Olivia and how she was after the death of Conor and Joey. He clears his throat and focuses back on the computer. The article has a picture of Joseph next to a picture of Sylvania Bridge; the same place where Troy died. " 'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband, Joseph Welch." Sam quotes the husband, Dean ignores it and looks at the bridge, "The bridge look familiar to you?"

Sam and Dean walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river. "So this is where Constance took swan dive." Sam looks over at Dean. "Do you think Dad would have been here?", "Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him." Dean continues walking. Sam follows. "Okay, so now what?", "Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while." Sam stops. "Dean, I told you, I've got to get back by Monday—" Dean turns around. "Monday. Right. The interview.", "Yeah.", "Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?", "Maybe. Why not?", "Does Jessica knows the truth about you? I mean, does she knows about the things you've done?" Sam steps closer. "No, and she's not ever going to know.", "Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are."          Dean turns around and keeps walking. Sam follows. "And who's that?", "You're one of us." Sam hurries to get in front of Dean. "No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.", "You have a responsibility to—," "To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. "Don't talk about her like that." Dean releases Sam and walks away. He sees Constance standing at the edge of the bridge. "Sam." Sam comes to stand next to Dean. Constance looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge. Sam and Dean run to the railing and look over. "Where'd she go?" Sam shrugs, "I don't know."          Behind them, the Impala's engine starts, and its headlights come on. Sam and Dean turn to look. "What the—," "Who's driving your car?" Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. Sam glances at them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for them. They turn and run. "Dean? Go! Go!" The car is moving faster than Sam and Dean, when it gets too close Sam and Dean dive over the railing. The car comes to a halt. Sam has caught himself on the edge of the bridge and is hanging on. He pulls himself up onto the bridge and looks around. "Dean? Dean!" Below a filthy and annoyed Dean crawls out of the water and onto the mud, panting. "What?", "Hey! Are you all right?" Dean holds up one hand in an OK sign. "I'm super." Sam laughs, relieved, and scoots away front the edge.          Dean shits the hood of his car and leans on it. "Your car all right?", "Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!", "Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?" Sam settles on the hood next to Dean. Dean throws up his arms in frustration, then flicks mud off his hands. Sam sniffs, then looks at Dean. "You smell like a toilet." Dean looks down.

November 2nd, 2005.

Dean lands a VersaBank MasterCard in the name of Hector Aframian on a handwritten guest ledger. "One room, please." Dean is standing at the motel check-in desk, still filthy, with Sam right behind him. The Clerck picks up the card and looks at it. "You guys having a reunion or something?" Sam frowns "What do you mean?", "I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month." Dean looks back at Sam.

The motel door swings open. Sam is on the other side, having just picked the lock and hid them then stands up. Dean is just outside, playing lookout until Sam reaches out for the room to grab his shoulder and yank him inside. Sam closes the door behind them. They look around—every vertical surface has papers pinned to it: maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, notes. There are books on the desk and assorted junk on the floor and bed, including something with a hazardous-materials symbol. "Whoa." Dean turns on a light by the bed and picks up a half-eaten hamburger sitting there. Sam steps over a line of salt on the floor. Dean sniffs the burger and recoils. "I don't think he's been here for a couple of days at least." Sam fingers the salt on the floor and looks up. "Salt, cats-eye shells—he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in." Dean looks at the papers covering one wall. "What have you got here?", "Centennial Highway victims." Sam nods. The victims seen on the wall include Mark somebody, William Durrell, Scott Nifong who disappears in 1987 at age 25, and somebody Parks. Mark, Durrell, and Nifong are all white males, judging by the photos. "I don't get it." Starts Dean, "I mean, different men, different jobs—" Sam crosses the room. "—ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?" While Dean talks, Sam looks at the papers taped to the other walls. There's something about the Bell Witch, two people being burned alive, a skeletal person blowing a horn at several scared people with the note "MORTIS DANSE." A column about "Devils + Demons," another about "Sirens, Witches, the possessed." A wooden pentacle, and a note that says "Woman in White" about a printout of the Jericho Herald article on Constance's suicide. Sam turns on another lamp. "Dad figured out." Dean turns to look. "What do you mean?", "He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white."          Dean looks at the photos of Constance's victims. "You sly dogs." Dean turns back to Sam. "All right. So if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.", "She might have another weakness.", "Well, Dad would want to make sure." Dean crosses to Sam. "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?", "No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband." Sam taps the picture of Joseph Welch. The caption says he's thirty; the article dates to 1981, so he must be sixty-four.          "If he's still alive." Sam and Dean turn around and see Olivia standing at the door. "Olivia!" Dean smiles. Sam frowns, "wait, Olivia? Parker?" Olivia nods. She looks around and sighs. "Well, a work of art we have here." Sam was shocked, he couldn't believe it was the Olivia he grew up with that was in front of him, she looked the same, yet so different. "What are you doing here?" Olivia turns and faces Sam. "Looking for John, too. It's been too long since I heard from him. Started to worry. So. The case." Sam shakes his head and goes to look at something else. Dean looks at Olivia who stares back at him. When Sam looks at them, it was as if they were having a silent conversation. Then Dean looks at the picture below the Herald article, of a woman in a white dress. "All right. Why don't you, uh, Sam, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up." Olivia looks around the room and rummages through the papers on the bed. Dean starts to walk away. Sam turns. "Hey, Dean?" Dean stops and turns back. "What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry." Dean holds up a hand. "No chick-flick moments." Sam laughs and nods. "All right. Jerk.", "Bitch." Sam laughs again. Dean disappears into the bathroom. Sam turns around and looks at Olivia. "So how have you been? Last time I heard from you, you were done with the job." Olivia looks at him. "Well, last time I heard from you, you were in college.", "Still am. I'm going back Monday. Just helping Dean finding Dad." Olivia nods and goes back to the papers on the bed. Sam notices something, his smile disappearing, and crosses over for a closer look. A rosary hangs in front of a large mirror, and stuck into the mirror frame is a photo of John sitting on the hood of the Impala, next to Dean in a baseball cap, and Sam on John's lap. Sam takes the picture off the mirror and holds it, smiling sadly. Olivia notices and walks over to him. "You know, despite everything that John said to you, he was damn proud of you, Sammy.", "I guess so."

Sam paces, holding his phone, and sits down on the bed listening to Jessica's voicemail. "Hey, it's me. It's about ten-twenty Saturday night—"

Dean, clean again, comes out of the bathroom and grabs his jacket. He shrugs it on one shoulder as he crosses the room. "Hey, man. I'm starving. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that dinner, down the street. You want anything?", "No.," "Aframian's buying." Sam shakes his head. "Mm-mm.", "Where's Olivia?", "Outside."          Dean leaves the motel room. He looks over and sees Olivia sitting in her car, flashback from the night after the accident when Dean came to Olivia who was sitting in the Impala came back to him. He walks over to her and knocks on the window. She opens the door and looks at Dean. "You okay?", "Yeah." Dean circles around the car and opens the passenger's door sits inside the car. "I mean, about this case and Constance's—," "I know." Dean nods and looks down. There weren't many words needed between them, it always been like that. "I'm going to grab food, come with me?"          When they get out of the car, Olivia looks over and sees a police car, where the motel clerk is talking to Deputy Jaffe and Deputy Hein. The clerk points to Olivia and Dean, who turn away. Dean pulls out his cell phone.

Sam is sitting on the bed, still listening to the message. "So come home soon, Okay? I love you." The phone beeps. Sam looks at it and presses a button, then puts it back to his ear. "What?", "Dude, five-oh, take off." Sam stands up. "What about you and Olivia?", "Uh, they kinda spotted us. Go find Dad."

Dean hangs up the phone as the Deputies approach. He turns and grins at them. Olivia crosses her arms, "Problem, officers?" Jaffe looks at Dean, "Where's your partner?", "Partner? What, what partner?" Jaffe glances at Olivia then over his shoulder and jerks his thumb towards the motel room. Hein heads over there. Dean fidgets. Sam sees Hein approaching and darts away from the window. "So. Fake Us Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" Dean looks at Jaffe dead in the eyes, "My boobs." Dean grins, and Olivia laughs, she looks at Dean's boobs and nods "Looks very real to me." Hein and Jaffe slam Dean and Olivia over the good of the cop car. "You have the right to remain silent—"

After a moment they released Olivia, having nothing on her but they kept Dean.          Sheriff Pierce enters the room, carrying a box. He sets the box on the table at which Dean sits and goes around the table to face Dean across it. "So you want to give your real name?", "I told you, It's Nugent. Ted Nugent.", "I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here.", "We are talking, like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?", "You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall." Dean looks away. "Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect.", "That makes sense. Because when the first one went missing in '82, I was three.", "I know you've got partners. One of them's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me. Dean." The Sheriff tosses a brown leather-covered journal on the table. "This his?" Dean stares at it. The Sheriff sits on the edge of the table. He flips through the journal: it's filled with newspaper clippings, notes, and pictures, just like what's on the walls of John's motel room. "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out — I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy." Dean leans forward for a closer look. "But I found this, too." He opens the journal to a page that reads "DEAN 35-111", circled, with nothing else on that page. "Now. You're staying right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means." Dean stares down at the page, then looks up.

Sam and Olivia, seen through the chain-link covering a dirty glass window, knocks on the door. An old man opens it: it's Joseph Welch. Sam looks up at him, "hi. Are you Joseph Welch?", "Yeah."          Sam, Olivia, and Joseph are walking down the junk-filled driveway, Joseph holding the photo Sam found on John's motel room mirror. "Yeah, he was older, but that him." Joseph hands the photo back to Sam. "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter." Olivia nods, "that right. We are working on a story together.", "Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?" Sam looks at Olivia then at Joseph, "about your wife, Constance?", "He asked me where she was buried.", "And where is that again?", "What, I gotta go through this twice?", "It's fact-checking. If you don't mind." Joseph looks at Olivia."In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.", "And why did you move?", "I'm not going to live in the house where my children died." Sam stops walking. Joseph and Olivia stop too. "Mr. Wlech, did you ever marry again?", "No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. The prettiest woman I ever knew." Sam nods. "So you had a happy marriage?" Joseph looks at Olivia and hesitates. "Definitely." Sam takes a deep breath, "Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time."          Sam and Olivia turn toward the Impala, Joseph walks away. Sam stops and waits a moment. Olivia looks at him confused, "What's wrong?" Sam looks back at Joseph. "Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?" Olivia's eyes went wide. Joseph turns around. "A what?", "A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?" Joseph just looks. "Sam, stop it!" Olivia was trying to stop him, but it was too late. "It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really." Sam starts back toward Joseph. "Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women." Sam stops in front of Joseph, Olivia sighs and walks closer to them. "You understand. But all share the same story.", "Boy, I don't care much for nonsense." Joseph walks away, Sam goes to follow, but Olivia takes his arm, "Sam, what are you doing?", "Trust me, please?" Olivia sighs and lets go of Sam's arm. They walk closer to Joseph, then Sam continues. "See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them." Joseph stops. "And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children." Joseph turns around, Olivia was in defensive mode, ready to stop any arm toward Sam and her. "Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.", "You think…you think that has something to do with…Constance? You smartass!", "You tell me.", "I mean, maybe…maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you two get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!" Joseph's face shakes, either from anger or grief, Olivia couldn't tell. After a long moment, he turns away. Sam sighs. Olivia looks at him, "Hey, at least you tried. Come on."

"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you. It's my high school locker combo" Sheriff Pierce was still interrogating Dean over the 'DEAN 35-111' page. "We gonna do this all night long?" A Deputy leans into the room, cutting off the Sherrif. "We just got a 911; shots fired over at Whiteford Road." The Sheriff looks at Dean, "You have to go to the bathroom?", "No.," "Good." The Sheriff handcuffs Dean to the table and leaves. Dean sees a paper clip poking out of the journal, pulls it out, and looks at it.          As the Sheriff and Deputy are gearing up to leave, Dean is out of the cuffs; he watches through the window in the door, ducks out of sight as the Deputy approaches the door, and waits. Dean climbs down the fire escape, carrying John's journal.

Sam was driving the Impala, Olivia was sitting on the shotgun seat. Sam's phone rings, he pulls it out and answers it. "Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal. — You're welcome." Sam grins. "Listen, we gotta talk. — Tell me about it. Wait I'm putting you on speaker. So, the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop. — Sammy, would you shut up for a second?" Olivia frowns, "I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet.  — Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho. — What how do you know? — I've got his journal." Olivia looks at Sam's phone. "That's impossible. He doesn't go anywhere without that thing." Sam looks at Olivia then back on the road. "Yeah, well, he did this time. — What does it say? — Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going." Sam thinks but doesn't answer right away, then Olivia speaks again "Coordinates. Where to? — I'm not sure yet. — I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?" Olivia looks and front of her and screams, "Sam!" Sam looks up and slams the brake, dropping the phone. Constance appeared on the road in front of him. The car goes right through her as Sam brings it to a halt. Dean, on the other side of the phone, was calling out for Sam and Olivia but none of them answered.          Constance throws Olivia on a tree, making her lose consciousness. Inside the car, Sam breathes hard. Constance is sitting int he back seat. "Take me home." Sam doesn't move. "Take me home!", "No." Constance glares, and the doors lock themselves. Sam struggles to reopen them. The gas pedal presses down, and the car begins to drive itself. Sam tries to steer, but Constance is controlling the car. Sam continues to try to get the door open. In the back seat, Constance flickers.          The car pulls up in front of Constance's house and stops. The engine shuts off, and so do the lights.

"Olivia!" Dean ran to Olivia who was still on the side of the road, on the ground. He gets down and slightly shakes Olivia, "come on, wake up." Olivia stirs and slowly open her eyes. "You okay?", "Pitchy. Sam's gone, Constance is with him.", "I know. Let's go. Come on." Dean helps Olivia getting up, after getting her balance back they ran out to Constance's house.

"Don't do this." Constance flickers. Her voice is sad when she says, "I can never go home.", "You're scared to go home." Sam looks back, and Constance isn't there. He glances around and back and sees her in the shotgun seat. She climbs into his lap, shoving him back against the seat hard enough to recline the seat. Sam struggles. "Hold me. I'm so cold.", "You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!", "You will be. Just hold me."          Constance kisses Sam as he continues to struggle, reaching for the keys. She pulls back and disappears, a flash of something horrible behind her face as she vanishes. Sam looks around for a moment, then yells in pain and yanks his hoodie open. There are five new holes burned through the fabric, matching to Constance's fingers, she then flickers in front of him, her hand reaching into his chest. One gunshot goes off, shattering one window of the car and startling Constance. Dean approaches, still firing at her as Olivia makes her way into the house. Constance glares at Dean and then vanishes to appear in front of Olivia. Sam and Dean scream Olivia's name at the same time. Olivia takes her gun, but Constance throws her out again. Olivia grunts and gets back up, "Why do you always throw me out! Come on! Come at me!" Constance looks at Olivia then turns back to Sam. Then it hits Olivia, Constance won't hurt her, at least not kill her. So she makes her way into the house once again.          Constance reappears into the car; Dean keeps firing until she disappears again. Sam manages to sit up and start the car. "I'm taking you home." Sam drives forward. Dean stares at the car. Sam smashes through the side of the house. Olivia throws herself on the side just in time to avoid the car. Dean hurries through the wreckage to the passenger side of the car. "Sam! Sam! You okay?", "I think…Olivia?", "Fine! Ow." Olivia stands up and looks around then back at Sam, "Can you move?", "Yeah. Help me." Dean leans through the window to give Sam a hand. Constance picks up a large framed photograph of her and her children. Dean and Olivia help Sam out of the car. "There you go." Dean closes the car door. They look around and see Constance; she looks up. She glares at them and throws the picture down. A bureau scoots towards Sam and Dean, pinning them against the car, but not Olivia. "Constance. Stop it. You're home now." Olivia walked a little closer to her. "Olivia, what the hell are you doing?" Olivia ignores Dean. The lights flicker. Olivia looks around then back at Constance. She was scared. Water begins to pour down the staircase. She goes over. At the top are her children. They hold hands as they speak at the same time. "You've come home to us, Mommy." Olivia looks at them, shocked. Constance looks at her children, distraught. Suddenly they are behind her, Olivia takes a step back. They embrace Constance tightly, and she screams, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still crying, Constance and the two children melt into a puddle on the floor. Sam and Dean shove the bureau over and go look at the spot where Constance and her children vanished.          Dean looks at Olivia and takes her hand in his. Olivia let a tear fall, "so this is where she drowned her kids." Sam nods. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.", "You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." While still holding Olivia's hand he slaps Sam on the chest with his other hand where Sam has been injured. Sam walks away and laughs through the pain. Dean looks at Olivia who didn't move. "You okay?", "You know. I can't. I can't understand people who kill their children.", "Me neither. Come here." Dean lets go of Olivia's hand and holds her in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry for going MIA, too.", "It's okay, Dean. Let's go. I can't stay here." They walk closer to the car where Sam was standing. "What were you thinking, by the way? Shooting Casper in the face? You freak!", "Hey. Saved your ass. " Dean leans over to look at the car. "I will tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?" Dean twists around to look at Sam. "I'll kill you." Sam and Olivia laugh.

The Impala tears down the road; the right headlight of the car was out. Dean was driving, Sam shotgun, and Olivia in the backseat. Sam has the journal open to 'DEAN 35-111' and a map open on his lap. He was searching the coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between his chin and shoulder. "Okay. Here is where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado." Dean nods. "Sounds charming. How far?", "About six hundred miles.", "Hey if we shag ass we could make it by morning." Sam looks at him hesitating. "Dean, I, um..." Dean glances at the road and back at Sam. "You're not going." Dean glances at Olivia through the rearview; she was sleeping. "The interview's in like, ten hours. I got to be there." Dean nods, disappointed, and returns his attention to the road. "Yeah. Yeah, whatever." Dean risks a quick glance at his brother then looks back on the road. "I'll take you home." Sam turns the flashlight off.

They pull up in front of Sam's apartment, Dean still frowning, Olivia was now awake.  Sam gets out and leans over to look through the window. "Call me if you guys find him?" Dean nods, Olivia smiles, "of course.", "And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?", "Yeah, all right." Sam pats the car door twice and turns away. Dean leans toward the passenger door, one arm going over the back of the seat. "Sam?" Sam turns back. "You know, the three of us, we made a hell of a team back there.", "Yeah." Dean drives off. Sam watches them go and sighs.

Not so far from the apartment, Dean stops the car. Olivia gets out of it to sit in the passenger seat. "We're going to wait for a little, are we?" Dean nods. "Good.", "I have a bad feeling, Olivia.", "I know. Me too. John leaving his journal is not a good sign. Something big is happening."

Sam enters the apartment; everything is dark and quiet. "Jess?" Sam closes the door. "You home?" Sam notices a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, with a note that reads 'Missed you! Love you!', next to a National Geographic. Sam picks one up and eats it as he sneaks into the bedroom, smiling. The shower is audibly running. Sam sits on the bed, shuts his eyes, and falls onto his back.          Blood drips onto Sam's forehead, one drop, then another; he flinches and opens his eyes. He gasps in horror: Jess is pinned to the ceiling, staring down at him and bleeding from the stomach. "No!"

The Impala was still in front of Sam's apartment. Olivia looked at her watch and saw that it was not ticking. "Dean." She shows him her watch, then they heard a scream and saw flames. Dean and Olivia got out of the car and hurried to the apartment.

Jess bursts into flames; the fire spreads across the ceiling. Dean kicks the front door open. "Sam!" Sam raises one arm to shield his face. "Jess!" Olivia comes running into the bedroom, "Dean! Over here!" Dean arrives and runs to Sam. "Sam! Sam!" Dean and Olivia look up and see Jess. "No! No!" Dean is brought back by Sam's screams, he grabs Sam off the bed and screams Olivia's name, he bodily shoves Sam out the door, Sam struggling all the way. "Jess! Jess! No!" Flames engulf the apartment.

A fire truck is parked outside the building, firefighters, and police keeping back gawkers. Dean looks on, then turns and walks back to his car. Sam is standing behind the open trunk, loading a shotgun. Olivia looked at Dean worry written all over her face; they once again share a silent conversation. Dean looks at the trunk, then at Sam, whose face is set in a mask of desperate anger. "Hey. How are you doing?" Sam looks up, then sighs and looks back down. "I'm fine." Sam tosses the shotgun into the trunk. "Come on. We got work to do." Sam shuts the trunk.

[saanandenlightenedman-blog]

Become a Newman - the Transformed man in 2017 & live up to 130 to 140 years. You bet!

THIS ARTICLE IS FOR THE PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE THEY ARE BORN TO DO SPECIAL THINGS & THEY ARE THE BEST...!!!

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NOTE : BEFORE YOU READ THIS ARTICLE KINDLY ENJOY FEW SHORT VIDEOS OF "INDIA'S BEST CELEBRITY LIFE & BUSINESS COACH."

IIT student got solid reply from India's best Life coach S A Anand - Changing complain into clap

Bollywood actress & Politician JAYA PRADA Likes Celebrity Coach S A Anand's speech on Leadership

Bollywood Actor Shekhar Suman Hugged & appreciated Celebrity Life & business coach S A Anand.

KAABIL Bollywood movie Actor Ronit Roy Interacts with S A Anand ( India's best life coach )

Ameesha Patel Bollywood Actress Asked celebrity Life Coach S A Anand to Become Mukesh Ambani.

American Accent & life skills training in India by India's best Celebrity Life coach S A Anand.

CHALK N DUSTER Movie - Divya Dutta Interview by India's best life coach S A Anand in Delhi.

CHALK N DUSTER MOVIE - Director Jayant Gilatar's Interview by India's best Celebrity coach S A Anand

Make in India discussion by India's best Political strategist & Panel Moderator S A Anand

Make in India speech By India's number one Life & business coach S A Anand in Mumbai.

Personality grooming coach S A Anand ( India's No.1) gets appreciation from national director

Cricketer V V S Laxman attended India's best life & business coach S A Anand's training in Delhi.

Cricketer V V S Laxman attended stress management training by India's best life coach S A Anand.

India's top model attended training & gave feedback to India's best celebrity life coach S A Anand.

India's best CORPORATE SOFT SKILLS TRAINER & public speaker S A Anand's Interview VIDEO

Force 2 Actor John Abraham promoted body building competition's life coach S A Anand's training.

I want to create a New man, a powerful, totally skilful, a new concept of being in the world through my breakthrough training. The man completely awakened, Transformed with multidimensional abilities. The old man is dying, and there is no need to help it survive any more. The old man is on the deathbed: don't mourn for it – help it to die. Because only with the death of the old can the new be born. The cessation of the old is the beginning of the new. The old man wants to survive anyhow with any hook & crook. The old man represent rotten & worst part of humanity.

As a coach my message to humanity is a Newman. Less than that won't do. Not something modified, not something continuous with the past, but utterly discontinuous. The man who will be Physically best, mentally best, spiritually best, emotionally best, and will become financially best of the best.

People have lived up to now not truly, not authentically; people has lived a very pseudo life. People have lived in great pathology, They've lived in great disease. And there is no need to live in this pathology – we can come out of the prison, because the prison is made by our own hands. We are in the prison because we have decided to be in the prison – because we have believed that the prison is not a prison but our home.

My message to people who all want to become Newman is: Enough is enough. Awake! See what people have done to themselves. Everyman who becomes friendly with you today becomes your enemy after sometimes. You cannot call this humanity healthy. And only once in a while someone has become Bill Gates or Buddha bloomed. If in the garden only once in a while a plant brings a flower, and otherwise the whole garden remains without flowers, will you call it a garden? Something very basic has gone wrong. Each person is born to be a Buddha & Bill Gates: less than that is not going to fulfil you.

Now let me tell you what you have repeated time & again in 2016 don't do that in 2017. Learn all the powerful skills, change your mindset, develop your EQ, IQ,PQ,SQ & FQ. Develop your communication, selling skills, NLP skills, Imagination & visualisation power, Public speaking skills, presentation skills, Life skills, business skills, political skills, Interview skills, group skills & team skills. Master your body, mind, emotion, communication & confidence.

And last but not the least, NewMan will live up to 130 to 140 years. You bet. The human body should last for a 140 years, or twice as long as our present life span; so, although medical science has made great strides, It's important to remember that the job is only half done. This training program will not only teach you mastery of skills but also take us a giant step forward in extending both life's span and life's quality - a perfect example of Integrative medicine. My training regards nutritional appropriateness as a matter of energy balance: Efficient absorption of food energy and efficient elimination of food bulk balance the body, and it becomes neither too thin nor too fat and retains maximum power to regain health and resist disease.

My training totally crushes orthodox medical dogma about the basic food groups, milk as healthful, protein in the diet, and calorie-counting to lose weight.

Note: You are about to learn some secrets of how to lose weight, and lose it permanently, while eating. I know some of you feel that's too good to be true. I felt the same way, But I found out through experience of losing 30 kg in four months that you can indeed eat your way to the weight you wish to be. The Newman will be the combination of : Bill Gates + Arnold Schwarzenegger + The Buddha

Someone has to take this great initiative and, therefore, I have taken this initiative. I have decided to revolutionise coaching industry by adding more values to the people, getting them something they don't even know. My coaching of NewMan is for chosen few from India. I will train them in such a way that they will be able to tap their complete potential and, will be able to attain what they have never imagine in their dreams. 

GOOD LUCK! 

S A ANAND

S A Anand

Email: worldbestlifecoachsaanand@gmail.com

Phone: 9884429199 / 9910186993

Web: saanandcelebritylifecoach.com

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