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sammysvanfeet · 2 years

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Boston Calling || Chapter Seven

Jake x Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Word count: 3.4k

*WARNINGS*: angst!!!!!, poor mental health,

Chapter 8

I didn’t power my phone on for days after I had the revelation regarding my feelings about Jake. I didn’t hang out with Josh, I didn’t talk to my mother, I didn’t confide in my therapist, and maybe worst of all… I didn’t go to any of my classes. Instead, I lay face down on the soft fabric of my couch in pajamas that I hadn’t changed out of. I hadn’t showered or brushed my teeth, I had been sustaining myself on shitty takeout but made no effort to clean the mess that was accumulating around me. The crippling weight of my feelings for Jake was all consuming. I had had flippant relationships in the past but never anything serious. I always thought I was the kind of girl who was independent, separate from anyone else. Whether that was due to my forced isolation as a child or a trauma response was anyone’s guess. The idea of caring about another human was foreign to me. It terrified me. Jake was not a safe bet and I knew I would shatter if anyone else left me now. The fact that I had been keeping this secret from my only friend didn’t go wasted on me. If Josh found out I was lying to him, I could very well lose him too. I hadn’t cried today but dwelling on these things caused a fresh flow of tears to escape from me, pooling onto the green velvet below me.

Startling me from my spiral of self-pity, a knock at my door garnered my attention. Obviously in no condition to have company, I laid still and ignored it. Whoever was knocking was persistent, they kept going and going, eventually resorting to yelling at me through the door.

“Y/N! I know you’re in there! Open the door now or I’m calling the police to do a welfare check on you.” The voice said, taking me a minute to figure out who it was.

“Wait… Danny?” I croaked, bewildered.

“So you are alive. Are you gonna open the door or what?” He questioned.

“Danny, now is not a good time.” I still didn’t move from my spot. “And besides, I don’t think I could move even if I tried.”

“Listen, I can promise that I do not care what you look like. It’s just me… and I am here as your friend, so please let me in so I know that you’re safe.” He implored.

He sounded so dejected, I battled internally whether or not to give in. He said he considered me a friend, and that alone swayed my decision. Ultimately, I rolled onto my side and off the couch and trudged to the front door, swinging it open expectedly. I was shocked to see not only Danny, but Josh and Sammy too.

“What the fuck, Danny? You lied?” I felt betrayed.

His expression softened, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. They didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“Do you know how worried we’ve been about you, Y/N?” Josh rambled, entering the apartment without an invitation.

Sam looked at me and grimaced, “I’m sorry to say it, but you’ve looked better.”

“Gee, thanks.” I responded, void of emotion.

All three boys made their way to my living room, eyeing the surroundings. Dried tears and drool soiled the couch, empty takeout containers were all over the coffee table and several bottles of wine and empty cigarette packets were scattered on the floor. I could tell they thought I was at rock bottom.

“It smells like someone died in here.” Sammy blurted out, causing Josh to elbow his ribs. “Oww…”

“Y/N, I don’t know what is going on, but you’re scaring us. We are here for you. Please, just let us in… let me in.” Josh’s voice broke with his plea. “You’ve been MIA, Jake said you haven’t been to class, what is going on?”

I perched on the arm of the couch, not wanting to get close to them in my filthy state. “What else did Jake say?” I asked matter of factly.

The looks the boys exchanged were not lost on me.

“Honestly, not much. He’s been even more of a dick than usual, staying out all night and showing up to class hungover. I don’t know if it’s the stress of the internship or if something else has happened, but he’s not himself right now either.” Josh sounded genuinely pained for his twin brother.

I scoffed lowly, if anyone had the right to not act ‘themselves’ right now, it was me. At least, that’s what I was attempting to convince myself.

“Y/N… you need to give me some context as to what is going on. Forget about Jake right now. I need to know what is happening with you. I’ve called, texted, waited up at the library for you and all you’ve given me is radio silence. Sam and Danny tried to reach out to you, too.”

I glanced at the younger two boys and they nodded sadly. I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes.

“And you’re not attending your classes! That’s not like you and you know it. You are one of the most diligent students I know, you’re not a flake, you show up and you work hard.” Danny added.

“We love you.” Sam said, his voice cracking slightly. He looked crestfallen. “We want to help you, we want you to be okay.”

That’s all it took for the dam to break completely, I choked out a sob and collapsed in on myself, surprised my eyes had any tears left to cry. All three boys jumped up and into action, unsure of what to do to soothe me. Sam froze, Danny just stared with wide eyes and Josh patted my back saying “there, there” as if he were legitimately at a loss for words. Josh always has something to say.

“It’s just…” I started, between sniffles, “I’ve never had anyone care about me like this, I’ve never had anyone choose to stay when things got hard.”

“We’re your fucking family now, Y/N. We’ve basically adopted you as the newest Kiszka sibling.” Josh said, with a smile.

I’m not sure I wanted to be a Kiszka sibling, given my dynamic with Jake. My face probably gave away the aversion to that sentiment because Danny chimed in, “Or a Wagner!”

I started to giggle, it started out small but then the laughter was bubbling out of me and the boys joined in. Josh smoothed my hair down, Sammy rubbed comforting circles on my knee and Danny kept me laughing with his outlandish jokes. Eventually we calmed down, I felt a lot lighter but I mentally steeled myself for the amount of damage control I was going to have to do now. The three of them stayed for a little longer, they even helped discard the trash that was scattered around, shushing me when I tried to apologize.

As Danny and Sam were making their departure, Josh lingered in my apartment a little while longer.

“Listen, Y/N.” Josh sounded serious. “Whatever has happened between you and Jake… you both need to sort it out. We are all going to be in each other’s lives no matter what, but it’s not healthy for either of you to keep going on like this.”

I didn’t want to cry again, but the soft look on Josh’s face was almost enough to bring me to tears. It was almost enough to distract me from the fact that he seemed to know I had been keeping a secret from him.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”

He smiled, only slightly before he uttered, “My own twin didn’t either. I expected more from him, though.”

I pulled him into a crushing hug, speaking directly into his ear. “I love you too, Josh. You’re my best friend and I will never keep anything from you again. I’ll talk to Jake, we can make things civil between us. Just please tell me I’m not gonna lose you.” I choked up at the end.

“Never, mama.” He responded, before placing a chaste kiss to my cheek and heading out the door.

✦✦✦

After the boys left, I was alone in my thoughts… and stench. Feeling slightly more motivated than I had all week, I spent the rest of the day deep cleaning the apartment and pampering myself in a luxurious bubble bath. After soaking to the point where the water got cold, I finally pulled myself out of the tub, dreading what I had to do next. I dressed robotically before climbing into my freshly changed sheets and powering up my phone.

27 missed calls, 12 voicemails, 43 unread messages, hundreds of emails.

To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement. Not sure what to tackle first, I went to clear out my call log, expecting almost all of them to be from my mother. To my surprise only 4 of them were from my mother, 6 were from Josh, 1 was from David, 3 from Sammy, 2 from Danny and 11 from… Jake. I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs. Jake had tried to call me the most.

Before dealing with the unread texts, I promptly went to my voicemail to listen to the messages. The first was from my mother, her shrill voice screaming down the phone about how disappointed she is… I couldn’t even finish the message before deleting it. The next one started off quiet, a barely-there shaky breath evident in the background. It went on for a few seconds before it ended. I looked at the name of the sender: Jake. Every other voicemail was from Jake. My hands quaked as I went to play the next voicemail. This time it sounded like Jake was at another frat party, or a bar.

“Y/N!” He slurred. The time stamp was past 1am, I gathered he was intoxicated. “I’m with Sarah right now. Are you jealoussss? Is that why you threw a temper tantrum at the studio?” The voicemail ended after that.

The next one came the morning after, it was Sunday.

“Nothing happened between us.” He rushed out. “Between me and anyone, not since you. Please call me back.” His voice broke at the end. Then the message was over.

“I don’t know what you want from me!” The next one began, his voice octaves too loud. “You were the one who acted like it didn’t happen right after you left that bathroom. You were there with me, in that moment. You felt it too!” He let out a ragged sigh, I pictured him running his hands through his long locks in exasperation. “Please tell me you felt it, too.”

The following calls must have come after I was a no-show in Sound Engineering.

“So now you’re skipping class to avoid me, too? God, even I’m surprised you would think someone like me was worth jeopardizing your education. What is it? You can’t stand me? You act so high and mighty but now you’re acting like a… like… like a little bitch! Suck it up! Come talk to me face to face, stop using this as an excuse to wallow in pity.” That one was probably the harshest of them all.

The following calls were all drunken jumbled words. “I miss you… I can’t stand you… please tell me you’re okay… I’m going to come check on you… I never want to see you again.”

It was the final one that drove the dagger into your heart, though.

“If not for me, please talk to Josh. He cares about you more than even I’d like to admit. He’s worried sick, he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries and insert himself into your life if you don’t want him there but he’s hurt. He wants to help you. Please, if anyone in this world deserves the relief of hearing you’re alive… let it be Josh.”

When I was finally done having an emotional breakdown over Jake’s messages, I ended up checking my email to desperately explain to my professors that I had been sick, hoping to God they would let me makeup what I missed. Luckily, my academic performance thus far had been stellar which earned me some brownie points with my professors. I did, however, agree not to miss any more classes for the rest of the semester. The pressure was going to be on.

Finally, I opened my messages, briefly reading the desperate texts from all of those here in Boston who loved me, whom I did not deserve. I also read the scathing texts from my mother, putting that off for now. I texted ‘thank you’s’ and ‘I’m sorry’s’ to Josh, Sam and Danny. Then, I opened Jake’s thread, already anticipating what was going to be in there based off of his voicemails. My heart absolutely broke reading the drunken, desperate, alternating messages of both animosity and adoration. I felt deeply for Jake, that much was for sure, but my hot and cold behavior had hurt him even more than I had realized. Under the guise of protecting my heart, I had used Jake and bruised him. I had written him off as a player. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that under his cold exterior, he was a human who would actually care for me.

The realization hit me all at once, like a freight train. I felt crushed and winded, desperate to be able to breathe. I had felt the same way when my father passed, as I desperately clutched his ring-clad hand, squeezing as tight as I could, as if I could make him stay. As the life slowly left his body, I felt a piece of me leave too. All I had now was his collection of silver. All I had of my sister was a dress. All I had of Jake were the fading finger-tip sized bruises on my thighs.

I was frenetic, pacing back and forth the length of my room now, replaying every little interaction in my mind. Had I got Jake all wrong? Had I fucked up this up before it could begin? I felt frantic, trying to conjure a plan grand enough to convey my remorse. Should I call him and hope he answers? Should I send him a gift basket? Should I show up at his apartment with wine?

I cracked my knuckles in exasperation, a nervous habit of mine, feeling the empty lengths of my fingers. I charged over to my jewelry box, digging through with haste. Finally I felt it, fishing the silver metal out. I turned it over in my hands, admiring the intricacy of the filigree. This was my favorite one of my father’s. He always noticed how I admired it and promised it would be mine someday. If only I had known that day would come sooner than expected.

“I miss you.” I whispered to the empty room, twisting the trinket around mindfully before slipping it on my thumb for courage. “You would know what to do.”

My dad reminded me of Josh in many ways. My sister would have loved his sense of style; but my dad would have loved his grandiose personality, his humor, his generosity. That’s when I realized, it couldn’t be anymore obvious, the one person who knew Jake better than anyone else was his own twin. I snatched my phone back up, seeing Josh had responded with a ‘<3’. I tapped his name and waited for the phone to ring.

“Is everything okay?” Josh sounded out of breath.

“Hi, yes, sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you busy?” I apologized.

“No, not at all. I was just beating Sam’s ass at Xbox.” He quipped.

I could hear Sam yelling in defense in the background, Josh must have traveled to a different room because the noises were muffled now.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Josh questioned, tenderly.

“If you could give Jake anything in the world, what would it be?” I asked, in trepidation.

Josh didn’t answer right away.

“Uhhh…” He sounded stumped. “Chelsea boots, necklaces, a new pair of jeans.” He chuckled at the last part.

“No, Josh. It has to be something sentimental. It has to convey how apologetic I am. This has to be an olive branch between us.” I implored, hoping he would realize how serious I was.

“Wow.” He breathed. “I don’t know the last time anyone has wanted to do something that thoughtful for Jake.”

Hearing that wounded me, but made me want to offer him something worthy.

“If you want it to be meaningful, it has to be relevant to you. Think of a moment you shared where you were amicable, maybe even happy in one another’s presence.” Josh disclosed.

I thought back to the first time I felt joy in Jake’s presence. Back when we were on the highway driving to Albany, roof off, music blasting and just together in that moment. He sang ‘Sunshine Of Your Love’ by Cream. I had never heard of it at the time, but secretly since that moment every night before bed I fell asleep to that very song.

I grabbed my phone and searched up the album name: ‘Disraeli Gears.” Next, I pulled up a map and searched for the nearest record stores to campus, mentally noting a few names and locations. I headed out to the bus stop, realizing I wasn’t usually around this time of day, I was supposed to be in class right now. I rode the bus into town and wandered through several record stores before I found what I was in search of. The exact Cream record I wanted to find. I felt stupid for a moment, of course Jake probably owned this, but this was the best gesture I could think to offer him by way of apology. I marched to the checkout, paying a lot more than I had thought from my own savings. It was important that my mother had not tarnished this gift. I then headed to a gift store, purchasing an apology card and a beautiful gift bag, simple and elegant, a solid matte dark blue color, hoping all of this effort would lead Jake to forgive me. All in all it looked heartfelt, not extravagant or over-the-top, it looked thoughtful.

I bussed up to Josh and Jake’s apartment. I wasn’t sure if it would be awkward if Josh was there, but I had to see Jake as soon as I could. I hoped Jake didn’t have class this afternoon. The ride was endless, many students making stops at their residences after their taxing days of classes. Finally I pulled onto the street of row houses and exited the vehicle, rushing up the front steps and up several tortuous staircases. I approached 4B in a rush, hitting my fist on the door urgently. I stood there for what felt like a lifetime, almost convinced that the apartment was empty, until I heard the telltale sound of laughter. I knocked again, even more urgently.

The door swung open swifty and I was met with a familiar face.

“Wait, are you the girl from the studio?” She chuckled as if it were the most hilarious thing ever, before looking me up and down, eyes locking in to the gift in my hand. “What’s the occasion?”

“Sarah? What are you doing here?” I meekly responded, avoiding her question.

“The boys invited me! They’re a blast to hang with!” She proclaimed proudly, as if they were her very best friends in the world.

“I… I don’t understand.” All this time I was suffering and they were replacing me?

She looked at me quizzically, before Josh sidled up and snaked his hand onto her shoulder. He moved to look at me, almost as if he were in slow motion, evidently intoxicated with something more than alcohol.

“Y/N! Have you met Sarah? Isn’t she awesome.” He boasted, not reading the atmosphere between us at that moment.

At a loss of what to say, and utterly spent from the rollercoaster of emotions I had felt in the past week, I weakly thrust the gift bag into Josh’s hands.

“It’s for Jake.” I said in a hushed tone, before scurrying down the stairs and out into the freezing cold city.

TAG LIST

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verobatto · 4 years

Text

It's Always been You.

I love you

Destiel Meta. 15x18 meta.

Keeping the fire burning in our hearts, i can't believe what we just saw last night, and i have to keep screaming about this historical scene.

I wrote this meta with my friend's huge help @mrsaquaman187 , because we needed to talk more about body language. Because the scene was perfectly played by Jensen and Misha.

And i want to say thank you to my dearest friend @spnsmile because she made amazing gifs for this analysis. Love you girl!

Before start this meta, i want you to read a meta i wrote two years ago, and i want to share it again with you today.

Break the jar and do it again. The slow construction of Destiel Canon

Okay, now, let's start this journey...

Castiel's honesty at his purest form

I will analyze word by word, because this is historical, as I said before. So, let's rewatch the scene together, the scene in which Castiel released himself, and allowed for the first time, to be happy. (I want my angel back 😭).

“I always wondered, ever since I took that that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be, what...what my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want...it's something I know I can't have."

Well, my friends, as I yelled in my Destiel meta you can find here, is canon now that Castiel was wondering what would it be to have Dean not just as a friend, but as a lover, and I'm.... Okay. (Internally screaming).

And damn @weird-dorky-little-deana and her post here in which I screamed again, this is it, my friends. Is perfect. Because is all along what I was suspecting... Remember 14x09, Pamela represented Dean's fem side, Dean's subconscious, so, in conclusion, Pamela was Dean talking to himself and saying :YOU WANT WHAT YOU CAN'T HAVE. Is because Dean thought CAS didn't love him back, and Cas saying he can't have Dean is a huge parallel because it shows the way it was constructed. Both men thinking they can't have each other. Is perfect and angsty and so romantic.

"But I think i know...I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it.”

This is such a deep thought and it talks about Castiel's maturity of character. He understood once for all, that loving Dean Winchester, feeling what he feels for him, and expressing that to Dean, is his true happiness. Because...

METATRON: "(...) You draped yourself in the flag of Heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. Right?"

Dean didn't know it

Dean: “What are you talking about, man?”

Dean's question shows us he didn't know what Cas was trying to say, he didn't know Cas was about to confess his love for him, he didn't know Castiel loves him back the same way Dean loves him.

Cas: “I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're...you're 'Daddy's Blunt Instrument.' And you think hate and anger, that's...that's what drives you. That's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it.

I just have to put everything in red because, OMG, people, this is Cas in the barn all over again but after 11 years of being with him and truly sees through him, and this is Cas in the golden room:

CASTIEL: What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion.

This time answering himself, this time, healing all the weight and the pain Dean could carry inside. Because Dean deserves to be saved. That's why Cas gave his life again for him.

Even now, with Billie outside saying IT AS ALWAYS BEEN YOU, and naming him like the rebel, Cas rewords all of that, and shows Dean why he is all of that, because he is GOOD.

Oh Lord, okay, everytime I see Cas smiling and saying those words i have to repress my tears, but...

"Since Castiel laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!"

No, sister, he was found.

Castiel is rewording each bad comment or mocking angels had done based on his romantic love for Dean, he is saying , yes since I met you in Hell, i was found, you changed me, I fell for you. Damn... Dean go get back this angel because I swear...

But now, i want to share with you my friend reading about their body language on this scene.

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

"Here is interesting because usually with conversations like these Dean would get upset or strut around then disagree and blame himself for something. BUT he doesn’t do that this time. Which leads me to believe he knew what Cas was going to say... you can see his face stiffen, intense eye contact and he clenches his jaw. Which tells me he is MAKING himself listen. He knows what’s coming and he has made the decision to HEAR it."

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

Gif 1:

"Here he’s trying to hold it together. He’s swallowing back tears because he wants to see this conversation through to the end."

Gif 2:

"Oh this one is fascinating because he’s not moving. This means he’s no longer trying to be sure of what Cas is saying. He definitely knows what he’s going to say. Also if you look at his eyes, his pupils are dialated. Fun fact: when you’re looking at someone you love, your pupils dialate."

If you are still alive, i just want to point how romantic is this, because he is saying that Dean changed him for good. And he is naming all their family, Sam, Jack, and humanity, the world. Dean. So practically, Cas is saying, Dean showed Cas how to take care of others. Damn...

But also....

ISHIM: The way you let those simians talk to you... Castiel, when did you get so gooey? You know why we're meant to stay away from them humans? Hmm? It's not because we're a danger to them. They're a danger to us. Case in point.

CAS: Well, my friendship with Sam and Dean has made me stronger.

Castiel rewording again, because he knows what Dean did on him, Dean changed him for good.

I Love You

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

Gif 1:

"Hmmm this one is a mixture of disappointment and denile...he’s basically thinking “you can’t be leaving me again”. His slow blinking and calm appearance indicates that he’s sort of asking out of disbelief or denial."

Gif 2:

"My poor boy had so much to say! Here you can tell he realizes what Cas was saying...he gets the meaning but can’t get his response out. He starts with the head tilt which signifies endearment and fondness. He swallows hard which represents the nervousness he feels and the sadness he feels. And then you can see his lips twitch and turn into a light smile along with his eyes softening. So he understands that Cas is confessing to loving him. And he understands that Cas has been holding it in and hurting the whole time. Which is why he tilts his head. The hard swallow is because he’s being loved but wants to love back and has no idea how to express that. All he could manage was “don’t do this Cas” which along with the body language equals to “Cas don’t leave me”.

I'm crying again, damn...

Okay Dean is shocked, shocked because he just figured out Cas loves him, Cas had loved him this whole time!! Is a huge, huge revelation to him, because Dean didn't imagine his best friend would feel the same for him! That's why he always thought he couldn't have Castiel the way he wanted to.

"I can see the love inside of you, but is croaked in shame."

Shame because it was his best friend, a pure, beautiful angel, out of his league. But now... This angel is confessing he had been in love with him the whole time! And not just that but he dies after that!

Dean losing again the love of his life after knowing he loved him back, is a new level of shock and despair to him. So Dean's reaction is just accurate and perfect!

And the scene crying alone in silence, not answering Sammy's phone call is SO SO IMPORTANT! He forgot about Chuck, about the world ending, about everything, because he only could think about Cas, and how he just lost him, and how he loves him the way Dean loves him, this whole freaking time.

To Conclude:

This was the most beautiful Destiel scene until now, and i only hope for the second Destiel canon scene, in which Dean will said I LOVE YOU TOO to his angel, closing his ILY journey, and rescuing Castiel. Maybe with the reset button, maybe entering into the Empty. But this is not the end, my friends, is just their starting.

Hugs! Love you all!

Tagging @metafest @gneisscastiel @emblue-sparks @magnificent-winged-beast @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @mybonsai1976 @anarchiana @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @destielshipper221b @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @feathered-castiel @bre95611 @zoerayne2426 @justmeand-myinsight @that-one-fandom-chick @proccastinate @studio-hatter @pepevons @poorreputation @mrsaquaman187 @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @dwstiel @thislunarkiss @ladygon @shippsblog @la-random-fangirl @lets-try-this-again-please @mychemicalobsession514 @destiel-shipper-11

@asphodelesauvage @2musiclover2

Buenos Aires November 6th 8:54 PM

#destiel #destiel meta #15x18 meta #spn spoiler #castiel meta #castiel #dean winchester #dean winchester meta #meta spec

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

He’s my man

Summary: Hands off her man… (For a longer summary read the original request under the tags.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Ofc

Warnings: angst, language, curvy reader, sassy reader, public making out, bullying (kinda), mentions of sex, smut, unprotected sex, woman on top, car sex, Impala sex, biting kink

Kinktober Special: Impala sex

Kinktober 2020

Divider by @writeyourmindaway

“Morning,” Sam grumbles, following you and Dean toward the Impala. “Did you have a good night? Mine was awful.”

“Nope, we had a great night,” Dean grins like the cat that got the cream when he moves one hand to your ass, roughly groping it. “We barely slept but we don’t care.”

“Same,” you snicker at Sam’s words. The poor guy looks like he didn’t sleep at all. “I care, though. Next time, warn me so I can get a room far away from yours.”

Dean laughs at his brother’s words, still that cocky grin on his lips. “Can you blame me, Sammy? I got lucky tonight…incredibly lucky.”

“Dean Winchester!” You slap Dean’s chest, cheeks heating up as Sam nods thoughtfully. “You can’t just tell Sammy so.”

“You finally let that guy touch you?” Dean grunts at his brother’s words. He clenches his jaw when Sam grins at you. “Did you think this through? Dean won’t ever keep his hands to himself from now on.”

You grin, stepping toward Sam to pat his chest. “Oh-Sammy, I’m counting on it. Last night he gave me a preview of what will come.” You giggle at Sam’s pained expression. “I will ride this train until the end.”

“See, that’s my girl,” Dean runs after you to open the door to the passenger seat for you. “I knew she’ll love it.”

“Gosh, I’m hungry,” you look at the menu, almost drooling onto your shirt. “Dean wore me out.”

“I did,” grinning again Dean pecks your neck, lightly nibbling at your skin. “Could devour you again if you want me to.” Someone clears her throat next to Dean who shamelessly bites your neck.

“I will have the egg white, toast, and coffee, please,” Sam orders, eyes drifting to you and Dean. “I guess my brother will need a moment.”

“No,” Dean protests, stomach rumbling. “I’ll have the bacon with eggs, toast, pancakes and coffee, black.”

“I have the same,” you smile at Dean, ignoring the waitress tries to get his attention when she taps her pink nails onto the table. “That’s it, sweetheart.” You coo, hand creeping to Dean’s thigh to slide your fingers up and down.

“Just a minute,” the waitress snickers, eying you up and down, a frown on her face. “Maybe you should have what your tall friend has.”

“Are you deaf or dumb?” You purse your lips, pointing toward the menu. “I said I’ll have what my boyfriend has.”

“It’s your ass…” She turns on her heels, muttering something you can’t hear.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean grunts, looking at you. “Do you know her?” You smirk, hand creeping up to Dean’s cock to graze the outlines. “Baby girl.”

“Nope. I guess she’s jealous you wanted to eat me alive, not her. Girls like her believe everyone must look at her, you know. The prom queen kind of girl,” you shrug, already turning your attention toward the pie the girl at the table opposite yours eats. “I want pie.”

“I say it again – that’s my girl…”

“God, that’s a goddamn masterpiece,” you swoon shoving a spoonful of your pancake into Dean’s mouth. “Taste the maple syrup, baby.”

“Awesome. I’d like to lick it off your body,” moaning you nod eagerly whilst Sam retches.

“Guys, first – not in front of me. Secondly, gross.” Sam scrunches up his nose, ignoring Dean grunts when you whisper something into his ear.

“Hey, I know you are busy eating, but I thought I’ll leave you my number before I go,” the waitress taking your orders swoons. “I know you want someone more…suitable.”

Dean ignores the girl, rather licks the maple syrup of your finger. He only has eyes for you when you lean closer and to shove your finger into his mouth.

“Did you hear me? I think a hot guy like you shouldn’t waste his time on a thick girl,” the waitress spats, hand sliding over Dean’s biceps. “If you are up to some real fun, call me, baby.” Dean’s eyes drop to your cleavage and his cock twitches in interest.

You see red, blood-red when she dares to touch your man. Your body goes stiff, your eyes narrow and Dean knows, he needs to calm you before you explode. His hand gently squeezes your thigh, but the girl just doesn’t get a hint.

“Come on, you’re a hunk. That girl is a three, but you are a ten on good days,” she moans, now squeezing Dean’s arm.

“Yeah, he’s a hunk, bitch. Hung too,” you smirk, hands cupping Dean’s face to crush your lip onto his soft pillows. Your tongue swipes over the roof of his mouth, causing Dean to growl low in his throat.

Your hand drops from his face to his crotch, to roughly palm his erection. Dean is lost in the way you kiss him hard and your hand bringing his dick to life, not caring about anything but the feeling of your hand on his dick.

“You know, when we are done eating, sweet cheeks, my boyfriend and I will have so much fun I will walk funny for days,” with a dirty grin on your lips you look at the waitress who huffs at words before she storms off.

“I want to eat, sweetheart, but don’t forget what you said,” Dean pants. “I will make you scream again…and again…and fucking again.”

“I know…” Sam laughs when Dean looks at you like a love-sick puppy. He smirks, pecking your nose gently.

“Shut up,” you giggle, turning your attention back toward your food. “I’m hungry.”

“We didn’t say a thing, Y/N,” Dean steals a piece of bacon from your plate, chuckling as you glare at him. “How about we leave this shitty place and I fulfill your promise?”

“Follow me, Winchester,” you grasp for Dean’s hand to lead him out of the diner, tossing money onto the table on your way out. “Don’t wait up, Sammy. We are going to be occupied for a moment or two.”

“At least twenty minutes or more, Sam,” you warn, giggling as your friend rolls his eyes. “Maybe thirty.”

“God, sweetheart,” Dean grips your ass harshly. “Fuck me, you’re like a wildcat.” He cries out, feeling your teeth sink into his neck. You rock your hips steady, not wanting it to be over too soon. “I’m yours.”

“I know, Winchester,” you fist Dean’s hair to meet his darkened eyes. The grip on your flesh tightens when you bury your face back into his neck, granting Dean access to mark you too. “No one can have you. Not that bitch nor anyone else.”

“I love your possessive side. You make me so hard, baby girl,” you moan, gripping Dean’s shoulders to move up and down his length. “Do you know how much your curves get me going? That feast festival I call your boobs, god, I could die between your tits.”

“Dean,” his hands grip your tits, squeezes the tender flesh tightly when you lean backward. “You look so hot naked in the backseat.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Dean purrs the words, a smirk on his lips when you throw your head back as he thrusts up into you. “I’m quite a sight.”

“You are,” you drop one hand to your clit, slowly rubbing circles around the little nub. “Fuck me, please.”

“Fuck…” Dean grasps for your waist, to fuck up into you, not caring you start to scream or that anyone who walks across the parking lot could see you naked on top of him. “Cum for me, Y/N.” His voice low enough to have your head spinning Dean moans your name.

He spills hot into you, roaring your name when you convulse hot and endless around him. Thanks to Dean you’re a sweaty mess but you couldn’t care less.

You fall against Dean’s chest, panting heavily. “Love you, Dean.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

“Did you disinfect the car?” Sam looks at the backseat, furrowing his brows. “Dean?”

“We cleaned it, Sammy. Don’t be such a girl about it,” Dean snickers, his hand back on your ass. “I swear we didn’t do anything wrong in the backseat of my car.”

“Sure,” the younger Winchester grits out. “…and a vampire just wants to kiss your neck. Now give me that blanket you always hide in the trunk for Y/N.”

“Uh-Sammy,” you giggle, rubbing your arm nervously. “I wouldn’t use it if I were you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” pissed Sam strips his jacket off to place it onto the backseat. “Back at the bunker, you two will disinfect anything you ever had sex on.”

“My bed too?” Dean cocks a brow, close to bursting into laughter. “I mean, we only will make it dirty again.”

“Just shut up…” Sam sighs. “To think I was rooting for you…”

Original request:

1 reader,dean and Sam are away for a case, the previous night dean take virginity of the reader and have so hard hot passionate sex for all the night so in the morning are both so hungry. At the dinner dean order breakfast for them and they start eating when a waitress come to the table to hit on dean but he ignores her just having eyes for reader, 2 when the waitress se this make some comments on her weight (she have curves) and touching dean arm tell him to go to her when he want some real fun, dean and Sam know that the girl have made the worst mistakes of her life because reader have the same temper as dean if not worst and when dean feel her body tense he take his hands on her tights to calm her 3 but the waitress just keep pushing her bottoms and reader take dean face on him and kiss him hard and passionately let the waitress see her hand palming dean cock trough the jeans when she stop tell the girl that he will have so so much fun fucking her when they leave the dinner at this the girl go away and reader continues eating with Sam laughing at her and dean locking at her with love and a smirk and she tell them “shut up” and they say “we haven’t talked” 4 and end with hard Sex reader riding him and marking him with love bites in the impala and dean doing the same and how he loves her possessive side and her curves to touch! (She’s adopted by the boys and younger Thant both, Sammy loves her like a sister) drama smutt fluff humor

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#He’s my man #request fill #smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #curvy reader #dean x curvy!reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural #Supernatural fanfic #kinktober #lulu's kinktober #kinktober 2020

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tcm · 4 years

Text

Sammy Davis Jr.: Civil Rights Activist and Natural Born Entertainer By Susan King

Sammy Davis Jr. was an exceptional talent. He could sing (you’ll get chills up your spine listening to his recording of “I Gotta Be Me”), dance, act and lest we forget, he was a member of the Rat Pack. He and Harry Belafonte made history in 1956 when they became the first African Americans to earn Emmy nominations.

But most people forget Davis was also very involved in the fight for civil rights in the 1950s and ‘60s. In January 1961, he joined Rat Packers Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, as well as Harry Belafonte, Mahalia Jackson and Tony Bennett, for the Carnegie Hall benefit concert Tribute to Martin Luther King. He also performed at the Freedom Rally in Los Angeles that year and at the March on Montgomery in 1965.

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. even wrote Davis a thank you note: “Not very long ago, it was customary for Negro artists to hold themselves aloof from the struggle for equality… Today, greats like Harry Belafonte, Sidney Poitier, Mahalia Jackson and yourself, of course, are not content to merely identify with the struggle. They actively participate in it, as artists and as citizens, adding the weight of their enormous prestige and thus helping to move the struggle forward.”

In 1968, Davis received the prestigious Spingarn Medal from the NAACP for his 1965 autobiography Yes, I Can. Nevertheless, considering his work for the late Dr. King, Davis shocked the world in 1972 when he supported Richard Nixon, who had a poor track record when it came to civil rights and would refer to African Americans in derogatory terms behind closed doors. But there was Davis, attending the opening night of the Republican convention in Miami Beach and then performing a concert for Republican youth. And it was during the concert that he hugged Nixon.

The backlash in the African American community was loud and strong. Wil Haywood stated in his biography In Black and White: The Life of Sammy Davis, Jr., “Sammy failed to understand Blacks’ distrust of Nixon’s ultraconservative views. The hug at the Republican National Convention, in the glare of the nation’s spotlight, seemed too to minstrelsy.“

Davis later said: “By their definition I had let them down. In their minds there were certain things I could do, certain rules I could break. I married a white woman and I hardly got any heat. But by going with a Republican president I had broken faith with my people.”

In a 1976 Ebony interview, Davis reflected that working with Nixon was not a betrayal to African Americans but a way to help Black citizens. “When my wife, Altovise, and I were invited to the White House after the November elections, I repeated [my recommendations],” he noted. “We started to rap, and he asks, ‘What can I do?’ Come on Sam, tell me what I can do.’ So, I laid it down again.”

He told Nixon that the funds cut from anti-poverty programs needed to be reinstated and that Martin Luther King’s birthday should be made a national holiday. But he soon realized Nixon wasn’t listening to him. He regretted supporting Nixon.

Davis was born in Harlem on December 8, 1925 to vaudevillians Sammy Davis Sr. and Elvera Sanchez, who was of Afro-Cuban descent. The couple separated in 1928, and Sammy Jr. lived with his father and his grandmother, Mama. He was just three when he joined the Will Mastin Trio with his father and Mastin. Davis never went to school. In a 2014 Los Angeles Times interview, his daughter Tracey Davis recalled her father telling her, “What have I got? No looks, no money, no education. Just talent.”

As a youngster, he appeared in short films, including Rufus Jones for President (’33). He toured with the Mastin Trio until he was drafted into the Army during World War II, where he suffered so much abuse from white soldiers that his nose was broken three times. “How did he make it and so many others not make it?,” Tracey Davis reflected. “He had talent. But what he went through would have killed a lot of people or make them bitter or just messed with your life so bad you couldn’t get over it.”

In 1954, Davis survived a car crash on his way home to Los Angeles after performing in Vegas. He lost an eye. He wore an eye-patch for six months and then was fitted with a glass eye. Two years later, he opened on Broadway in the musical Mr. Wonderful.

It was announced in August 2020 that a film is in pre-production about the ill-fated relationship in 1957 between Davis and Kim Novak. The relationship was quashed, as it would have killed Novak’s career and supposedly, it quite literally would have killed Davis – a hit was allegedly put out on his life. To keep the heat off of him, Davis was briefly married in 1958 to dancer Loray White.

In 1960, Davis married striking Swedish actress Mai Britt. According to Tracey Davis, her mother, who had appeared THE YOUNG LIONS (‘58) and THE BLUE ANGEL (‘59), was dropped by 20th Century-Fox because of her marriage. Tracey said her parents “didn’t regret being together. My mom loved my dad like crazy and my dad loved my mother. My mother was so lucky because her parents didn’t care.” Though they divorced in 1968, she said they never fell out of love. Before his death of cancer in 1990 at the age of 64, Davis told his daughter why they broke up: “I just couldn’t be what she wanted me to be. A family man. My performance schedule was rigorous.”

Tracey said that her dad and Sinatra were great friends offstage. “He was like a good cushion for dad.” And, if Davis ran into trouble due to his race, Sinatra was there to fight the good fight for his friend. “He’d say, ‘Oh, Sammy can’t come in here? Then I’m not coming in.’ I think it gave my dad such comfort knowing he had this big brother out there that would go to the mat for him.” Davis, who was a chain smoker and was rarely seen without a glass of vermouth, had a falling out with Sinatra in the early 1970s, because the performer was using drugs. “Frank was mad he was squandering himself, doing stupid things. He let dad know about it and dad was kind of well, I don’t care.’’ Eventually, Davis did care and apologized to the Chairman of the Board.

Being a member of the Rat Pack gave Davis a certain visibility, especially in the films they made together, including OCEAN’S 11 (‘60) and ROBIN AND THE 7 HOODS (‘64), but all of the actors were just having a good time on screen. These vehicles didn’t show Davis’s strength as a dramatic actor. But occasionally, he got the opportunity, such as in ANNA LUCASTA (‘58) opposite Eartha Kitt, CONVICTS 4 (‘62) and A MAN CALLED ADAM (‘66). And in 1964, he returned to the Broadway stage in the Charles Strouse-Lee Adams musical Golden Boy, for which he earned a Tony nomination.

“He was very representative of a time and place,” said Strouse in a 2003 L.A. Times interview. “He was created from a lot of forces, like the Earth coming in and ‘whoop,’ here comes Sammy Davis. He was brilliant along with everything else. He was the biggest star of the day and in the theater, he had no peer. We sold out all the time.”

But Davis also missed a lot of performances of Golden Boy. “He got himself very tired or perhaps depressed or nervous,” reflected Stouse, adding that Davis stretched himself thin “the way lemmings go to the edge of the cliff and then they go off. He didn’t go off, but he was always on the end of the cliff. He was very driven and yet very mild-mannered and almost submissive to Sinatra. He had to be loved. He wouldn’t get off the stage.”

As he got older, Davis stopped wearing flashy clothes and jewelry and got back to basics as a singer and performer. And, he is the best thing about his last film, TAP (‘89), with Gregory Hines. Their tap dance will make your heart beat a bit faster. Tracey Davis said though her father was “incredibly driven,” he had a “huge heart, a zest for life. He had more energy than anyone I had known.”

#Sammy Davis Jr #old hollywood #Rat Pack #1950s #civil rights #Black performers #Black actors #Eartha Kitt #Martin Luther King #politics #TCM #Summer Under the Stars #Turner Classic Movies #Susan King

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mwolf0epsilon · 3 years

Note

PUT THE HEADCANONS IN THE BAG! Tell me everyone's height, build, and how/what they'd do in a fight.

Joey Drew - 5'11", slim build with a weakness in the right knee (carries a cane and later on is wheelchair bound). Pre-Ink, he's pretty much defenseless, you're basically bullying a crippled old man. Post-Ink, I wouldn't recommend fighting him because he knows how to control his abilities (including shapeshifting) and his cane is actually a cane sword. He will mess you up.

Henry Stein - 5'6", short and stout with very bad arthritis and back issues. Pre-Ink, you're a monster for bullying poor soft grandpa. Post-Ink, if you piss him off you're going to get beaten up. He'll let you go when he feels like you learned your lesson tho.

Linda Stein - 6'12", built like an amazon and skilled in both fencing and kickboxing. She will demolish you.

Sammy Lawrence - 6 feet exactly, human form was pretty slim but Prophet form bulked up considerably. Pre-Ink you could take him on, but he made up for lack of muscle with pure ferocity and wasn't opposed to fighting dirty (biting and scratching). Post-Ink he can easily lift a person off the ground one-handed, and he has no qualms cutting people down. Fight at your own peril.

Jack Fain - 5'4" as a human, quite chubby in build. Diminished to 3'5" as a Swollen Searcher. Pre-Ink, why would you hit Jack?! Post-Ink, what is wrong with you?! Congratulations, no matter what form you fight him in you're a monster!

Susie Campbell - 5'2" and chubby build, can pack a punch if she needs to. Grew to 6'2" and slightly slimmer build as Twisted Alice, and is a lot stronger than she looks. Pre-Ink, sure fight her but expect a broken nose, you jerk. Post-Ink, leave that to Allison maybe... Susie isn't a damsel in distress.

Norman Polk - 6'12" and build like an absolute beast, despite his age he could annihilate anyone in the studio if he felt like it. Grew up to 7'2" and bulked up even more as the Projectionist. Pre-Ink, he'll kick your ass and scold you afterwards, the shame burns worse than the bruises. Post-Ink, oh my god please be my guest and fight him! Fight him so you can fail miserably for my entertainment!

Allison Pendle - 5'9" and petit feminine build, very agile and energetic. 6'2" as Allison Angel, and somewhat more feisty. Pre-Ink, she'd talk you out of fighting her. Post-Ink, you better be good at sword fighting! She'll skewer you like a hecking kebab.

Thomas Connor - 6'2" stocky build and used to both hard labour and defending himself in a scrap. Diminished to 6 feet as Tom Boris, but has considerably enhanced strength. Pre-Ink, oh boy get ready for a walloping! Post-Ink, do you not see the gosh dang metal arm?! He'll demolish you faster than a vault door...

Wally Franks - 5'3" and stout build, a compact little unit! He's a typical lad from Brooklyn with a lot of questionable family members, and he will wrestle you to the ground if he doesn't trust you. You can take him on, but you'll not leave unscathed.

Shawn Flynn - 5'7" and slim built, but this man has the ire of the Irish on his side. As the Boss Searcher he's 6'8" at crawling height, do not test his patience! Pre-Ink, get ready for a brawl, expect it to be quite the show! Post-Ink, please leave him alone, he's just trying to defend his workshop. You can take him on but expect his fellow Searchers to be upset!

Grant Cohen - 5'11", used to be a little overweight before losing a tremendous amount of weight out of stress. He's diminished to 3'5" as a Searcher and somehow looks bony. Pre-Ink, what is WRONG with you?! Post-Ink, what is WRONG with you?! God you're just a monster, aren't you?

Buddy Lewek - 5'5" and slim, very bony build. Got up to 6 feet as a Boris and his strength has been enhanced as well. Pre-Ink, why the hell are you bullying this poor kid? Post-Ink, he'll break your hand and run for it. Just leave poor Buddy alone, he's suffered enough.

Dot - 5'6" pretty average build in general, slightly chubby. She dropped a projector on someone's head, and attacked a demon. If it means surviving she will fight dirty and maim you.

Abby Lambert - 5'9" and average build. Grew up to 6'7" as a Lost One, and is still as agile as she used to be. Pre-Ink, she can throw a good punch and she knows where to hit. Post-Ink, wow you definitely want to be a kebab! There's also the horrifying possessive monster following her around like her personal demon. For your own safety, do not fight Abby.

Doc Hackenbush - 6'3" very stocky and chubby build. Not much of a fighter though. Remained the same height as a Lost One, but appears a little chubbier. Pre-Ink, sedative time! Post-Ink, sedative time! He's a doctor, genius...

Bertrum Piedmont - 6'2" and an absolute unit of a man. God only knows how massive he is as the octopus ride. Pre-Ink, you can take him on mostly due to age advantage. Post-Ink, have fun! 50-50 with this guy!

Lacie Benton - 6'3" with an average build, strong arms and legs tho. Diminished to 6 feet as the Bendy Animatronic, but then again she's made of frigging metal. Pre-Ink, you can take her sure, her ulcer makes it a little easier on you. Post-Ink, if she's fully assembled, I'd run. She's made of metal dang it.

Emma LaMonte - 5'11" and built like a professional ballerina. Her legs are POWERFUL. As the Giant Bendy Hand she's absolutely massive. Pre-Ink, get ready for a mule kick from hell. Post-Ink, you might need a bigger boat and a bigger gun than a tommy gun. She's gonna drag you down into the inky depths.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #headcanons #height #fight

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shadowywerewolfqueen · 4 years

Text

Dark and Stormy Night

For Suptober Day 18. This one really got away from me!

It was a dark and stormy night. Thunder rolled over the land, causing the ground to shake with every rumble. Lightning flashed, illuminating the night with bright white streaks. Rain fell from the sky in waves, beating against anyone who was unlucky enough to be out in the downpour.

Most creatures were curled up in their homes, unwilling to venture into the storm. One poor person was not so cautious. Dean Winchetser was driving down a lone road cutting through the forest on his way home from visiting his brother. It had been months since he had seen Sam and he knew it would be a long time before he saw him again. Even though the visit had required him to take five days off of work, he didn’t regret it one bit. He would never turn down an opportunity to see his little brother.

Dean knew he would pick up extra shifts at his jobs to compensate for the lost work days but he didn’t mind. Sam was doing amazing in college and therefore Dean’s hard earned money was being put to good use. He would work a dozen jobs if it meant Sammy got to have his dreams.

Dean tapped his fingers against the steering wheel of his 1967 Chevy Impala. Baby was the only thing left by his dad that Dean actually wanted. The thousands of dollars worth of debt was not wanted very much. Sam had offered to help pay off their dad’s bills, but Dean refused. Sam needed to save his money for better things. Dean didn’t mind working himself to the bone, it’s all he’d ever known. Sam was the smart one and had a bright future ahead of him. Dean was just a grunt. He had always been and always would be.

Dean was singing quietly to the rock song playing on the radio when suddenly a large black wolf ran across the road. Dean jerked the steering wheel to avoid hitting the animal and instead crashed into a tree sitting close to the roadside. “Son of a bitch,” he shouted as Baby’s hood grunted and groaned as it was crumpled. The car rumbled for a few seconds more before the engine and lights shut off, throwing Dean into silent darkness.

Dean grabbed his spare flashlight from the backseat and threw the door open and rushed outside to see how bad the damage was. He was immediately soaked all the way to his skin under the torrential downpour. Dean took quick stock of Baby’s crumbled hood, checking underneath to get a good look at the engine, and cursed under his breath. The damage wasn’t as awful as it could be and he would be able to fix it at the garage he worked at. The problem was, the garage wouldn’t be open for another five hours, so Dean couldn’t call them for towing assistance.

Once the damage had been assessed, Dean slipped back into Baby’s front seat, muttering a quick apology for getting water everywhere. He was already shivering as the chill from the rain seeped into his bones. He grabbed the blanket from the back seat and covered himself up as much as possible.

Dean woke from a light sleep sometime later, unsure of how much time had passed. He blinked his eyes before turning his head to look out the driver’s side window and was surprised to see a pair of glowing blue eyes staring at him. He screamed and scrambled into the passenger seat as the eyes continued to look at him. Suddenly, the eyes disappeared.

Dean continued to stare at the empty space, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. He shook his head, trying to determine if he was still dreaming. Dean jumped, hitting his head on the roof, when there was a light tapping on his window. He was frozen as the tapping continued when a voice broke through the night. “Hello! Can you hear me?”

Dean slowly crawled forward and was surprised when he saw a hand knocking against his window. He reached for the handle and slowly rolled the window down, rain immediately blowing into the car. “Hello,” he called.

A head appeared in Dean’s line of sight. “Hey, it seems your car broke down. I can give you a ride to my place. At least, you’d have somewhere warm and dry until the morning.”

It was still too dark for Dean to make out much about the man. Dean chewed on his lips, unsure what to do. Being able to get out of the pouring rain sounded like a good idea, but this man could be some kind of murderer for all Dean knew.

“Have you decided? It’s still raining heavily and I’m getting soaked,” the man shouted, obviously annoyed.

“Yeah, alright,” Dean replied. Hopefully his decision didn’t get him killed. He grabbed Baby’s keys, rolled the window up, and opened the door.

Dean slammed the door shut and made sure it was locked before turning towards the other man. “Follow me,” he shouted over the pounding rain.

They ran to a pickup truck parked a few feet away. They threw themselves inside, both sighing at escaping the rainfall. The man started the truck up and turned the heater up as high as it would go. Dean immediately held his hands up to the vents and sighed at the warmth that started to rush through his fingers.

“I’m Castiel. Nice to meet you,” the man said, his voice deep and full of gravel.

Dean turned to look at the man next to him and gasped. The guy was drop dead gorgeous and if the circumstances were different, Dean would already be flirting with him. He had shaggy black hair, a few day’s stubble, plump lips, and the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes Dean had ever seen. Dean was suddenly reminded of the eyes he had seen when he first woke up. This guy's eyes were almost the exact same color and Dean felt a tremor ripple through his body at the realization. “Uh, you didn’t happen to see anything around my car when you pulled up, did you?” Dean asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Castiel tilted his head. “I saw a large shape next to your car, but it was too dark for me to make out what kind of animal it was. It disappeared into the bushes before I could shine a light on it. Why do you ask.”

Relief swept through Dean. “Uh, your eyes are eerily similar to the eyes of whatever was by my car. It’s a little creepy.”

Castiel’s lips curved up slightly. “I’m sorry. There’s not much I can do about that.”

“It’s ok. I’m Dean by the way. Thanks for stopping and offering me a place to stay.” Dean shivered, his wet clothes sticking to him like glue.

Castiel caught the motion. “Don’t worry. My house is only about five minutes away and then we can go inside and change into something dry and warm.”

“That sounds awesome,” Dean said as Castiel started the truck and pulled back onto the road.

Cas glanced at him before looking back at the road. “So, how did you end up hitting that tree?”

Dean growled. “Believe it or not, a damn wolf ran out in front of me! I didn’t even know wolves lived in Kansas. Anyway, being the nice guy that I am, I avoided hitting the damn thing and instead crashed into that tree. It’s a good thing I wasn’t going very fast or who knows what would have happened.”

Cas nodded his head, his gaze focused on the asphalt in front of him. “Well, I’m sure the wolf appreciates you not hitting it.”

“It better because now my car is wrecked. If I didn’t already work as a mechanic, there’s no way I could afford to get my car fixed. As it is, I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to get to my jobs without a working car,” Dean replied, tersely.

“Jobs?” Cas asked, obviously confused.

“Yeah, jobs,” Dean said with a nod of his head. “I work at Singer’s Garage during the day and then work at the Roadhouse at night. Helping to pay your brother’s way through college and having to pay off the debt left behind by your alcoholic father isn’t cheap.”

Dean snapped his mouth shut, surprised at himself. He rarely talked to people and within minutes of meeting Cas, he was already spilling his secrets. Something about the man was relaxing and made him easy to talk to. Dean took a deep breath and his nose was filled with the warm scent of sandalwood and jasmine. He glanced at Cas, wondering where the smell was coming from.

“I’m sorry. That must be tough to do. I work one job and it leaves me exhausted. I couldn’t imagine having to work two,” Cas replied with a quick glance in Dean’s direction.

Dean shrugged. “I’m used to it. Sam’s the smart one. I’ve never been good for anything besides grunt work. I ended up dropping out of high school so I could work full time just to be able to take care of Sam since dad was never around. When he told me he wanted to go to college, there was no way I was going to keep him from doing that. After dad died, I was forced to get a second job so I could continue to support my brother. His future is worth more than some lost sleep on my end.”

Again, Dean was surprised at how much he was telling Cas, but something about the man slipped past Dean’s reservations. He found that after keeping so much bottled inside for so long, he desperately wanted to get it all out. Cas actually seemed to be listening to Dean rather than just humoring him. Dean actually felt better, getting some of the weight he had carried for years off his shoulders.

By now they were pulling up in front of a log cabin. It wasn’t overly large but was bigger than Dean was used to. He had always lived in apartments and the one he currently lived in was nothing more than a run down crackerjack box. They exited the truck and quickly ran up the steps. Cas unlocked the door and then both rushed inside.

Dean could have wept with joy as he was surrounded by heat. His nose was once again flooded with sandalwood and jasmine. Maybe it was an air freshener or a cologne that Cas used and that’s why Dean smelled it earlier in the truck. He frowned at the water dripping off his clothes and forming a puddle on the floor. He looked at Cas and said, “You got a towel and I’ll wipe this mess up.”

“Let’s get changed first. If you want, you could take a shower while I get some clothes for you. I should have something that fits you,” Cas explained as he studied Dean up and down.

“That sounds great. Just point me in the direction of the bathroom.” Once Cas had given him directions, Dean made his way. He quickly turned the water on and stripped out of his clothes. As he stepped under the hot spray, he moaned in contentment.

He had just finished washing his hair when there was a knock on the door. “Dean, it’s me. I’ve got some clothes for you. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, just leave them on the sink. Thanks,” Dean called back.

He heard the door open and then shut a moment later. Once he was done showering, he dried off and then slipped into the sweatpants and shirt Cas had left. He couldn’t help but smell them, and something in his chest lurched at the warm scent that was practically imbedded in the fabric. He was definitely going to have to ask Cas about whatever scent this was because it was the best smelling thing ever. The clothes were a little tight but nothing Dean couldn’t live with. He dropped the towel in the laundry hamper and left his clothes hanging over the curtain rod to dry out a little bit. He then went in search of Cas. As he walked, he studied the pictures that were hanging from the wall.

There was one of Cas with his arms thrown around another man that was almost identical to Cas. The only difference was the eye color, Cas’ were a dark ocean blue and the other man’s was a bright electric blue. Another picture that caught Dean’s attention was one showing two large black wolves sitting side by side. Their eyes were eerily familiar and Dean found the two wolves stunning.

Dean walked into the kitchen to find the man standing in front of the sink, wearing a pair of gray sweats and a black t-shirt. Dean felt his cock jerk at the sight. “Down boy,” he muttered to himself. Dean knew before he left, he was definitely going to get Cas’ number.

Cas looked over his shoulder and smiled. “How are you feeling?”

Dean almost melted from the look that the other man flashed in his direction. “A lot better now that I’m warm, that’s for sure. Thanks for letting me use the shower and giving me some clothes to borrow,” Dean said as he took a seat at the table.

Cas turned around and leaned against the counter. “You’re welcome. Nobody should have to be out in that kind of weather. Tomorrow, if you want, I can tow your car to the garage.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can just call Bobby and he will send someone out. One perk of working there means I won’t have to pay for towing fees.” Dean paused before adding, “It’s the parts that are gonna cost me. I love having a vintage car, but the parts for them ain’t cheap.”

Something flickered in the depths of Cas’ eyes, but it disappeared before Dean could put a name to it. “I really don’t mind towing your car; It’s the least I could do. Besides, I needed to go into town anyway.”

Dean stared at him curiously. “What do you mean you owe me? Pretty sure, I owe you, not the other way around.”

Cas dropped his gaze. “I, uh, just meant… I, uh, owed you for your… uh company. It’s nice to not have to spend such a gloomy night alone.”

“O...k. You alright Cas?” Dean asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Cas cocked his head. “Cas?”

“Oh, sorry. Your name is just a mouthful. I can say your whole name, though, if it bothers you,” Dean offered.

“No, it’s fine. Nobody has ever given me a nickname.” Cas moved to the fridge and opened the door.

Dean’s eyes went wide when he saw all the bags inside the refrigerator. Besides a six pack of beer and a few cans of soda, nothing but meat lined the shelves. His eyes jumped to Cas’ back as he felt his blood run cold. “Oh shit, this dude is like some kind of psycho murderer,” Dean screamed inside of his head.

He was jerked from his thoughts by the sound of a door shutting. “Dean, are you ok?”

Dean swallowed thickly. “Uh, is there any reason you have a fridge full of bags of meat?”

Cas chuckled softly. “I’m a hunter Dean. All of that is from the deer I killed recently. My freezer quit working, and I have nowhere else to put it. That’s why I have to go to town tomorrow, to buy a new freezer.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Dean replied, his body relaxing at the explanation. He knew he should be more cautious about Cas, but something about the man was making him lower his guard.

“What, did you think I was some crazy serial killer?” Cas asked..

“What,” Dean scoffed. “No, of course not!” He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks at his embarrassment.

Cas obviously didn’t buy Dean’s lie. “Mhm,” he hummed as he handed a beer to Dean.

He took the beer from Cas and their hands gently slid against each other. Dean gasped as a jolt of lightning sparked through his body. Not only that, but Cas’ skin was like touching a space heater! Dean pulled his hand away and studied his fingertips, afraid to find them burned. He looked back at Cas and said, “Uh, Cas, I think you might be running a fever. You’re feeling a little warm there buddy.”

Cas straightened and held his hand to his forehead. “No, I feel fine Dean.”

Dean eyed Cas warily. “Are you sure because you feel like a fucking furnace! Your temperature must be at least a hundred and one.”

Cas smiled softly and took a sip from his Coke. “I assure you, Dean, I’m fine.”

“Dude, I swear if you pass out on me, I’m gonna be pissed at you,” Dean warned.

“I’m not going to pass out on you. Would you like to watch some TV before we head to bed?” Cas asked.

Dean still didn’t believe the other man but there wasn’t much he could do. He took a drag of his beer before replying, “Sure, why not.”

They headed into the living room and Dean took a seat on the couch. He sat his beer on the table and noticed something strange. He picked up the clump of black fur and stared at it. He looked down at the couch and noticed more strands of black fur. “Cas, you got a dog or a cat?”

“No, why would you ask such a thing?” Cas asked as he grabbed the remote from the TV stand.

Before Dean could respond, a lone howl shattered the silence. Cas immediately looked out the window and frowned. He mumbled something under his breath before looking at Dean. “I will be right back. I need to go check on something.”

He was gone without giving Dean a chance to say anything. After Cas had left, Dean looked back down at the fur clutched tightly in his hand. He started thinking about everything that had happened that night.

First, he had seen a large wolf run across the road. Second, he had woken up in his car to a pair of bright blue eyes. Third, within minutes, Cas was knocking on his window, offering him a place to stay for the night. Fourth, Cas had a near identical eye color as the creature outside of his car. Come to think about it, the men and the wolves in the pictures had the same eye colors as well. Fifth, Cas had a fridge full of meat. Sixth, the man had a ridiculously high body temperature and was unfazed by it. Now, Dean finds animal fur and yet Cas claims he doesn’t have a pet. Not to mention the fact that as soon as Cas heard the howl, he said he had to go.

Dean dropped the fur as he put all the pieces together. “No fucking way,” he whispered to himself.

Everybody grows up hearing the tales of the shifters: humans who were blessed to have their souls intertwined with that of an animal, giving the person the ability to turn into that animal at will. Shifters were rare and reclusive, often living in places that resembled the homes of the animals they could turn into. Every so often, a shifter would take a human as their mate.

To be mated to a shifter was considered a great honor. Once mated, the human would go through a transition phase, turning them into a shifter as well. Shifters had heightened abilities, including better smell, sharper hearing, and increased strength. They also tended to have a higher body temperature than a regular human.

Dean looked up at the sound of footsteps. Cas came strolling back into the living room, a look of annoyance on his face. “Sorry about that. I forgot to call my brother about something.” He noticed Dean’s panicked look and asked, “Are you ok Dean?”

Dean jumped to his feet. “No, not really! I know what you are!”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Cas said slowly. “What do you mean you know what I am?”

“You’re a shifter,” Dean accused.

Cas came to a halt, standing to his fullest height. He ground his teeth together before asking, “What makes you say that?”

“There’s a lot,” Dean exclaimed. “But maybe the fact that you run extremely warm, have a fridge full of meat, and have black fur in your house even though you claim not to have a dog or cat! Not to mention, I wake up to see a pair of blue eyes staring at me and the next minute you show up, also with blue eyes! I even bet you were the wolf that ran across the road!” Dean gasped. “Is that what you meant when you said it was the least you could do when you offered to tow my car since you’re the reason I crashed in the first place.”

Cas sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped. He scrubbed his hand down his face before looking back at Dean. “Yes, I was the wolf that ran across the road, causing you to hit the tree. I was chasing after my brother and I thought you were further down the road than what you were. I’m sorry for causing you to crash. I will be more than willing to pay for any damage done to your car.”

Dean fell back onto the couch. Even if he had predicted the truth, he still wasn’t prepared to actually be told he was right. “Son of a bitch!”

Cas slowly walked towards Dean before taking a seat next to him. He smirked as he said, “I told you the wolf was probably happy that you didn’t run it over.”

Dean barked out a laugh. “I bet! Dude, I’m happy I didn’t hit you. Although Baby might not be so happy.”

Cas scrunched his eyes in confusion. “Baby?”

“My car that I crashed trying to avoid hitting your furry butt,” Dean explained.

Cas flinched. “I really am sorry and so is my brother. He said if there’s anything you need, he would be more than willing to help.”

“Your brother? When the heck did you talk to him?” Dean asked sharply. Cas gave him a deadpan look before Dean realized, “That was the wolf who howled, wasn’t it?”

Cas nodded. “Yes, he wanted to make sure you were alright. As soon as you crashed, I ran back here to pick my truck up.”

“Why the hell were you staring at me in your wolf form?” Dean asked.

“I wasn’t. That was my twin, Jimmy. He stayed behind to watch over you while I came back to get my truck since my house is closer. I apologize that he scared you. He told me if he didn’t already have a mate, he would definitely be interested in you,” Cas said, his cheeks stained a bright pink.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, well, he shouldn’t be. I’m not worth being mated to, especially to a shifter. Hell, the only relationships I’ve had for the past few years are random bar hookups. I’m not worth anything long term.”

“Don’t say such a thing. You seem like a wonderful person Dean,” Cas admonished.

“The truth is the truth. I’m nothing special. I’m barely making it through life Cas. If it wasn’t for Sam, I’m not sure where I’d be. He’s the only reason I’m still trudging,” Dean explained.

Dean jumped when Cas grabbed his shoulder, the heat of his skin seeping through Dean’s thin shirt. “Dean, what you’re doing for your brother is amazing! You’re giving up your own happiness so that Sam can have his. I don’t know many people who would do that.”

“That’s because he’s worth it; even my dad thought the same thing. If he had had any money left over after he died, it would have gone to Sam. He didn’t intend to leave me a single dime, saying that a grunt didn’t need it,” Dean said bitterly. “The only problem was, his debt far exceeded his savings, so I got stuck paying off the ten thousand dollars worth of debt he still had.”

Cas growled low in his throat and it caused goosebumps to erupt on Dean’s skin. “Your father doesn’t sound like he was a very good man. You are not a grunt Dean, and you deserve so much better than the hand you’ve been dealt. You should have never been forced to drop out of school to take care of your brother. You shouldn’t be having to pay off your father’s debt. None of that should have fallen on your shoulders.”

Dean scoffed and looked at his hands. “It doesn’t really matter if I should have to deal with it or not because I do. That’s my life. Work two jobs, go home to a shitty apartment, and do it all over again the next day.”

“Does Sam know any of this?” Cas asked softly.

Dean’s head snapped up. “NO! When we meet up, I fly out to meet him. He offered to help pay dad’s debt, but I refused. He offered to help pay his tuition with the money he earns from his job, but again I refused. He deserved to be able to spend that money on himself. I know he hates living in the dorms. Maybe he can save up enough to get a small apartment next year.”

Cas moved his hand from Dean’s shoulder to his cheek, forcing Dean to look at him. “See, how could you think yourself unworthy of good things? It seems to me that you’re extremely self-sacrificing and Sam is lucky to have you for a brother. Your father just didn’t realize what he had in front of him: an amazing and loyal son.”

Dean felt a tear slide down his cheek before throwing himself into the shifter’s arms. He buried his nose in Cas’ neck, inhaling the soothing scent of Cas’ cologne: a combination of sandalwood and jasmine. He felt Cas wrap his arms around Dean’s waist and pull him in even closer to his body. “Shh, Dean, it’s ok. You’re ok,” Cas whispered softly.

“My dad hardly ever said a nice thing to me in the twenty five years of my life and in one night, you’ve said dozens of nice things. You’re too good to be true, Cas,” Dean mumbled against the shifter’s neck.

“You deserve to be told nice things Dean,” Cas replied softly. “If you’ll let me, I’ll tell you- hell I’ll give you nice things for the rest of your life.”

Dean pulled back. “What do you mean?”

Cas’ whole body went rigid. He nibbled on his lip before finally saying, “Please tell me you have felt a connection between us since we met.”

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, yeah I have. Something about you makes you really easy to talk to. Not to mention, you’re fucking gorgeous and I’ve been attracted to you and that damn cologne of yours from the moment I got a good look at you in your truck.”

Cas tilted his head and squinted his eyes. “Dean, I’m not wearing any cologne. As a shifter, my sense of smell is already heightened. Most colognes are overpowering and make me sneeze.”

“Ok, so then what air freshener do you use because it’s the best smelling thing ever.”

Cas frowned. “Dean, I don’t use air fresheners either for the same reason.”

Dean shook his head. “Ok, so then why does everything around you smell like sandalwood and jasmine?”

A soft smile spread across Cas’ face. “Dean, that’s my scent. Every person in the world has their own unique scent.”

“Um, dude, I’ve never smelled another person before,” Dean said, looking at Cas as if he was crazy.

“Well, of course you haven’t,” Cas said with a roll of his eyes. “Humans don’t have a strong enough sense of smell like shifters do.”

“Then why can I smell you?”

Cas was silent for so long, Dean wondered if he was going to answer. Finally, in barely more than a whisper, Cas replied, “Because we’re true mates.”

Dean wheeled back as if he had been slapped. “NO! NO! Cas, no!” All shifters had a true mate, the one person that was their perfect other half. There was no way Dea was that for Cas.

At Dean’s words, the shifter crumbled in on himself. He slid from the couch, saying, “I’m sorry Dean. I don’t blame you for being upset.”

“Cas, wait,” Dean cried as he reached for the man’s wrist. “Why are you sorry? I should be the one apologizing!”

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault that the wolf inside of me has claimed you for its own,” Cas said remorsefully.

“Cas, I’m sorry that your wolf was dumb enough to choose me! I told you, I’m not… I’m not special enough to have the honor of mating with a shifter. You deserve someone who is as amazing as you and… that’s not me,” Dean said, letting Cas’ wrist drop out of his grasp.

Cas turned around, fire burning in his eyes. He grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. Dean was a little afraid of the man standing before him; Cas looked every bit the predator that he was. “You are infuriatingly stubborn! I already told you that what you’re doing for Sam is something you should be proud of. You might not have much in this world Dean but it’s not because you’ve thrown your life away! It’s because you’re sacrificing it so that your brother can have a better one! That is not something to be ashamed of!”

“Cas, I work two jobs and live in a shitty apartment! If I’m not working, I’m probably sleeping because I’m exhausted from working eighty to ninety hours a week! I hardly ever go out with friends because I can’t afford it or I’m just too tired. Hell, I took a week-long vacation to go see Sam and am already figuring out a way to take some extra shifts to compensate for the lost hours.” The fight left Dean and he slumped against the shifter. He closed his eyes and took in another deep breath of Cas’ calming scent. “I have nothing to offer you.”

Cas petted the back of Dean’s hair. “Dean, I’m not asking for anything. I don’t care how much money you make or what kind of apartment you live in. Your worth isn’t measured by those things. It’s measured by what’s on the inside and trust me, you have a heart of gold. Just give me- give us a chance. My wolf has never steered me wrong before.”

Dean barked out a laugh. “I think that record is about to be broken.”

“Does that mean you’ll give us a shot?” Cas asked, afraid to get his hopes up.

Dean looked up at Cas and pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss. “Against my better judgement, yeah. I’ll give us a chance.”

A few months later, it was a dark and stormy night. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed. The rain had quit minutes ago and now the plants were wet and the ground was soggy. Most creatures were inside their homes, waiting for the rays of sunlight to dry the land up.

Two creatures were unlike the rest, running through the forest, uncaring that their pelts were getting wet and covered with mud. A large tan wolf was sprinting as fast as he could, a slightly smaller black wolf hot on his heels. Dean put on a burst of speed when he saw their cabin appear in his line of sight. He had just landed on the porch when Cas barrelled into him from behind.

They both crashed to the ground before shifting back to their human forms. Cas straddled Dean’s hips and looked down at the man he adored. “I told you I would catch you my love.”

Dean laughed as he stared at his mate. Even soaking wet, Cas was the most gorgeous man Dean had ever laid eyes on. “When you start gaining weight because you’re pregnant, let’s see if you’re as fast.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I would still be faster. Those bow legs I love so much slow you down, which is good for me.”

Dean shoved at Cas’ chest playfully. “Keep gloating and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight!”

Cas leaned over and nipped at Dean’s lips before soothing the sting with a kiss. “Don’t make empty threats love. We both know you can’t sleep without my knot buried deep in your ass.”

Dean shivered at Cas’ voice, lust slowly thickening it. He felt a trickle of slick slide from his entrance as his own apple and pine scent thickened with arousal. He wound his arms around Cas’ neck and pulled him closer, sealing their mouths together. Their tongues slid against each other as their hands roamed wet skin. “Love you Cas.”

“I love you too Dean. I’m so glad I chased Jimmy across the road all those months ago,” Cas replied with a smirk.

“Yeah, well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad I crashed Baby into that tree. I can’t imagine life without you,” Dean said, pressing another kiss to his mate’s lips.

In the ten months they had been together, Cas had helped Dean turn his life around. Cas was a well published author under the pseudonym Emanuel Milton, one of Dean’s favorites actually, and had more money than he knew what to do with. He had helped Dean pay off his dad’s debt and get Sam set up in his own apartment. Dean was now living with Cas, beyond glad to be out of his shitty apartment. He still worked full time at the garage since he loved being a mechanic but only worked the weekends at the Roadhouse. Cas told him he didn’t have to work at all, but Dean couldn’t just sit around all day.

The best part of being with Cas was being turned into a shifter himself. Dean loved his wolf form and would spend much of his free time running through the woods with Cas. There had been a few things that had taken some getting used to, though. Shifters had secondary genders: Alpha and Omega. Cas was an Alpha and Dean had presented as an Omega meaning he produced his own lubrication and would have the ability to get pregnant. That had taken him a few days to come to terms with.

Dean looked at his stomach, already starting to show and couldn’t believe how freaked out he had been. He let his hand rest on the slight bump and smiled, excited to be growing a new life inside of him. He couldn’t wait to meet their pup.

Cas laid his palm over Dean’s. “What are you thinking about my love?”

Dean smiled. “Just how happy I am. I can’t believe I got the man of my dreams and in about seven months, we’ll have a pup of our own. It seems like I deserve nice things after all.”

“I told you, love, that I would give you nice things for the rest of your life if you would let me,” Cas said softly.

“Thanks for keeping your promise,” Dean whispered before pulling Cas into another heated kiss.

“Thank goodness for dark and stormy nights,” Cas replied before he sealed their mouths together.

#suptober20 #My writing #my OTP #Destiel #shifters #abo dynamics

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ms-march · 3 years

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12 Days of Turn- “Cookies”

For those of you who may not be familiar with the young man in the corner, his name is Levi Tallmadge Ben’s 13-year-old little brother and the OC of @culper-spymaster. Her fic Band of Brothers (BoB) is absolutely amazing, so if you have not yet read it , please give it a look! And I am sure by now you must have guessed that this is a crossover piece, it about the average length of a chapter and it was worked on by both Susan and myself. We easily spent several days writing this for you all so if you like it please give it a like, comment, and/or reblog!

Levi was bored. Massively, and terribly bored. He and Zipporah had been in the damn wagon creeping by at a snail's pace along the wagon's trails for nearly an hour. The scenery didn't even change. It was the same trees and bushes all the way to Brookhaven. At least at the end of the journey, he'd get to see his father. His father. Who he hadn't seen in over a year. If only Benny and Sammy were there too, then they could have a real family holiday. But Ben was off fighting a war, and Sam was rotting away somewhere. It was just him and Zipporah for now. "Are we there yet?" Levi groaned ten minutes later. This journey was taking forever. Why did they have to take the wagon? "We're nearly there. Just a little farther," Zipporah chuckled patiently. As easy as it was to forget, Levi was just a normal 13-year-old boy, and it shone through, especially in moments like these. They continued on, but before long, the trees and bushes changed to small saltbox homes, large colonials, taverns, and shops. Finally, they were pulling in front of his grandfather Jim's house, a large colonial with pale shutters. His father was already waiting on the stoop, expectantly. Before the wagon even pulled to a full stop, Levi was jumping down and running towards his father. "Dad!" He exclaimed as he leaped into Nathaniel's arms. Zipporah stepped down from the wagon at a more subdued pace. "Levi, my boy! Look at you!" Nathaniel grinned, clutching his son tightly. "You're so tall! And your leg, it's good as new!" "Yeah, Zipporah was better than any doctor," Levi complimented as his father released him. "I'm sure she was," Nathaniel smiled sweetly, turning to Zipporah. "Hello, sweetheart." He leaned forward and gave Zipporah a deep kiss. Instantly, Levi's face scrunched up. "Ugh... I'm going to unpack the wagon," He grunted, turning his back to the lovesick couple, who simply chuckled.

Levi lugged the first of the trunks, likely Zipporah's, from the wagon, his father joining him shortly after watching him struggle with the trunk's weight. "How has she been, Levi?" Nathaniel asked under his breath. It was purposefully quiet, obviously intended to reach Levi's ears only. "How has she really been?" Levi replied in the same tone, voice just above a whisper, "She has been dealing. She visits with Anna as much as possible, and I have been trying to stay in and around the house if I can, just to make sure she doesn't worry too much about me. Auntie Loretta gave her job at Uncle Lucas's orchard, so that keeps her busy." Nathaniel sighed, helping his son move in the trunk into the foyer, glancing over to Zipporah waiting in the parlor. "I wish that she did not have to remain there," Nathaniel shifted his gaze down to Levi, "You as well. I have already lost one of your brothers due to this damn war, it's also keeping me from seeing Benjamin, and now it must tear you from me as well." "It's ok, father. We'll be ok. I'll keep Zipporah safe, and don't worry about Benny. He can handle himself; Caleb will take care of him." Levi understood how Nathaniel felt. He has seen things he never should have at his age because of the war. He was becoming more and more used to being left behind because of this war. But Levi did not say any of this. He just offered his words of comfort, as empty as they may have been. Levi's struggle was not his father's and would give him no cause to think it was. Let him worry about Ben and pray for Sammy, but he will not be given any such strife by Levi. The men returned to the wagon, pulling out Levi's trunk and stacking it on top of Zipporah's. Levi walked back to the doorway, intending to grab the last of the trunks, turning to search for his father. Nathaniel stood just behind the parlor's line of sight, staring longingly into the room at Zipporah. Levi rolled his eyes, groaning to himself, and called out behind him, walking out the door, "I'll get the last one, Dad! It'll be light, only presents." Levi lugged the light trunk from its position in the wagon, pulling it into his arms, and instantly regretted turning away his dad's help. Whatever Zipporah packed in here was as heavy as bricks. As he was busy struggling with getting the trunk into his arms, a too-sweet familiar voice rang in his ears from a distance. Unfortunately for Levi, he noticed it the same moment he pulled the trunk into his arms, promptly dropping it partly on his foot, causing a loud curse to slip out of his lips.

Adrienne Fairfax had decided that she hated taverns. There was always someone to harass or someone harassing others. First in York City with the young Tallmadge boy, now in Brookhaven with the tavern owner, and both over the cause of a room. She ought to go to the local garrison and complain. There was not a single respectable establishment in this town, and so she had become frustrated enough to argue with the tavern owner in front of the building. There was a loud, profane shout in the distance, a familiar shout. Excusing herself from her heated argument with the man outside the tavern, Adrienne approached the uncovered wagon, and the raggedy little boy that had become more and more familiar to her stood there, leaning against the cart and cradling his foot, muttering another string of profanities under his breath. Before Adrienne could approach him, a quaint brunette woman rushed from the house, a dirty blonde haired man following her to crowd around the poor boy as he tried to wave them away. "I'm fine, Dad. I just got distracted." "I thought you said it was light, Levi," the man, presumably his father, scolded. "I thought it was," Levi defended, "What did you put in there, Zipporah?" "Just the gifts," the brunette, who she could now identify as Zipporah, replied. The dirty blonde haired man, Levi's father, looked up, making eye contact with Adrienne and his demeanor changed immediately, "Zipporah, Levi, head inside." Zipporah followed his line of sight and nodded, placing a hand on Levi's shoulder, but he did not budge. His eyes, too, rested on Adrienne as he spoke. "Zipporah, head inside," he said, continuing before she could protest, "Everything is fine, just head inside." "Levi," Nathaniel whispered sharply, grasping Levi's arm tightly when the boy tried to stand, "This is not the time for more of your shenanigans." Levi did not reply, simply brushed him off with a brisk nod and began to limp over to Adrienne, grabbing her roughly by the arm and walking her out of earshot. As they came to a stop, Levi spoke in a hushed and clipped tone, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" "I heard you scream; I came to see if you were alright," Adrienne replied indifferently. "Not that," he said, clenching his jaw, "What are you doing in Brookhaven? This is borderline stalking me." "It is not!" she defended, a wave of sudden anger seeping into her tone, "My horses needed to be changed, one had an incident with the ferry, and now we are stuck here for the night." She huffed, her tone becoming short, "Believe me when I say I have no such desire to stay here." Levi examined her face for a moment in the silence before he cracked a grin and started to laugh, "You couldn't get a room, could you? That's why you were arguing at the tavern?" Adrienne flushed a rather pretty shade of pink from her embarrassment but offered no rebuttal. Levi, still allowing a short chuckle to escape from his lips, spoke, "You go get that fancy little carriage of yours taken care of, and I'll see what I can do about a place to stay." His eyes shifted behind him, to his father staring worriedly at his son as they discussed, "As soon as I go talk to my dad." Adrienne gave a short nod and returned to her carriage as he requested, leaving Levi to explain the predicament he just placed them in to his father.

Nathaniel took Levi in his arm as he returned, "Levi, what on earth could such a girl want with you?" "What? You don't think I can get a gal like her? I'm a catch," Levi responded, appalled. His father just looked back impassively. "Relax. Lady Fairfax just wanted to make sure I was ok." Nathaniel's eyes grew wide, and he bit back a gasp as he pulled Levi closer, dropping to a whisper, "Lady Fairfax? What on earth could she want with you?" "Oh," Levi replied cheerfully, his voice remaining at regular volume, "We know each other. I wouldn't say we're friends, but I like to think I'm growing on her. Like fungi." "You know each other?" Nathaniel whispered, shock clear in his voice, "Levi, what did you do?" "Just now or the first time I met her?" "I have a feeling that the answer 'just now' will do me far more good." "She was having troubles with the tavern owner in securing a room for the night, so I told her I would find somewhere for her to stay." "And where," Nathaniel began, his voice exhausted, "Exactly is that?" "With us, of course," Levi replied as if the answer should have been obvious. "Levi!" his father exclaimed, sighing, "Have you lost your mind? She can't stay here with us." "Why not?" "I-" Nathaniel was stuttering over words, stumbling for an answer. Finally, he found one as he began, "Because there aren't enough beds." "You and Zipporah can share," his father gaped at him, scandalized, "It would do you both some good." "Absolutely not. That young lady cannot stay with us." "Who cannot stay with us?" Zipporah's voice rang clear from the doorway, causing both of them to turn their attentions' to her. "The girl by the cart earlier," Nathaniel replied at the same time Levi did. "My friend."

At the word 'friend,' Zipporah's eyes flicked over to Levi, raising her eyebrow curiously. 'Friend' wasn't a term used often or lightly around the boy. Then furrowing her brow, she approached Nathaniel, wrapping her hands around the front opening of his coat, "And why can Levi's friend not stay with us, my dear?" Levi watched, amused, as he saw his father's mind go blank as she peered up at him, smiling sweetly. He tried his best to protest, his attempts suddenly half-hearted, "Zipporah, she's a Lady, aristocracy." She hummed in acknowledgment, allowing her hands to run down from the top of his coat to the middle, "And how does that affect anything?" This time Nathaniel could do nothing but stutter and trip on his own tongue; Levi even bet that the rather loud snort that escaped him went unnoticed by the man as his mind short-circuited. "Yes," Zipporah hummed, "I think that we can more than accommodate another person here. I will have my things placed in your room for the time being." She turned to Levi, still smiling sweetly, "How many nights would she be staying with us?" "Uh, good question," Levi shrugged, "Didn't ask." "Alright, well, you go fetch her," She turned back to Nathaniel, who appeared to be coming out of his trance, and smiled sweetly, "And we shall go prepare the rooms upstairs?" His father let out a pathetic noise that could have been a yes, or a whimper, causing Levi to crackle with the laughter that attempted to escape his lips. Nathaniel cleared his throat, shaking his head clear before nodding firmly and heading into the house quickly with Zipporah strolling leisurely in behind him. As they disappeared into the house, Levi took running after Adrienne towards the tavern. Adrienne was talking to a footman in the livery stable beside the tavern when he arrived. "Alright, got it all sorted. You're staying with us. Zipporah got involved, and my dad sang like a canary. Or rather... didn't sing," Levi told her, as she finished her conversation, the footman walking off.

"Are you sure I am not imposing?" Adrienne asked him. "Nah. Just let me and Zipporah worry about my father. What Zipporah gets involved, he's a lovesick pushover," Levi responded, grinning as he started walking back to Grandpa Jim's with Adrienne. "Especially since he hasn't seen her in over a year." "Why isn't your dad in Setauket with you?" Adrienne asked him, curious as to why his father was living so far away from his loved ones. "There was...an incident in Setauket last year," Levi hedged slightly, thinking back to August of 1777. "One of the Redcoats in town basically went crazy. They were rounding up Patriots, and they were going to send them to the Jersey. But this soldier...he decided to defy orders and hang the Patriots instead. The outcome was one hanging, a dozen or so dead Continentals, and I was shot." Adrienne pulled to a stop in shock, eyes grown wide as she stared at the boy. "Surely you are not referring to any such soldier of His Majesty's Army?" Adrienne questioned. "You bet your fancy, pretty little ass, I am," Levi replied. "The soldier in question is now Captain of the Queen's Rangers." "And it truly happened?" she spectated, electing to ignore parts of his reply, "I have never been given cause to believe such tales, though I have heard many of misconduct before." "Of course, it happened, and I have the limp and scar on my leg to prove it," Levi replied as they approached the colonial home. "What other reason would my father have to live over an hour away from us?" Adrienne furrowed her brow slightly, careful with her questioning, "And they gave the officer, a presumed gentleman, in question a promotion for such abhorrent and disgraceful behavior?" "I'd use the term 'promotion' loosely. Same rank and he isn't even technically part of the Royal Army anymore. But no, he didn't get punished," Levi told her as they stood facing each other in front of Levi's Grandpa Jim's colonial. "Anyway, this is where we're staying." Adrienne had intended to question the boy further on what he meant by 'no longer a part of the Royal Army' but was stopped by the house itself. "Oh," she began, taking in the flat and simple facade. "It is certainly very," she trailed off for a moment before continuing, "American?" "Thanks," Levi grinned. "My Grandpa Jim built it." Adrienne hummed politely, thinking to herself, 'It certainly looks it.' Thankfully, she was saved from having to search for a polite reply by the dirty blonde man, Levi's father, who had come out to the porch to greet them. She almost took pity on the man. He looked terrified, as severely as he attempted to hide such a thing. He brought his hand around her but abstained from touching her silks, leaving his hand hovering just off from her back as he motioned with his other hand inside the house. Levi bounded forward, rushing inside to a room full of casually chatting voices and the sound of a crackling fire, leaving Adrienne to stand alone in the hall with his father, as well as the horribly awkward tension rolling off the man in waves. "Lady Fairfax, I presume? Please make yourself at home," Nathaniel greeted the young lady, then with a sheepish smile, "I do hope my son hasn't been causing you too much trouble?" "Only the necessary kind," she assured him as warmly as she could, "Though, dare I say that he might be incapable of avoiding most of the trouble he encounters." Adrienne gave the man a slight curtsy as her mother taught her to greet him properly, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Tallmadge." "Please, call me Nathaniel. Zipporah should be upstairs setting up your room if you would like to go get yourself settled," Nathaniel informed her, gesturing up the stairs. "Your room will be the first on the right." She nodded to him politely and made her way up the stairs, aware of his stare on her back the entire time. The door to the bedroom was open, finding it exactly where Nathaniel told her it would be. The room was positioned so that she would hear any and all footsteps in the upstairs hall and on the stairs, both a blessing and a curse. There was the brunette, Zipporah, dressed in a somewhat pretty floral pierrot jacket and a dark green colored quilted petticoat. She was humming a jaunty tune to herself as she unfolded and tucked bedsheets, stopping in her actions to look over her shoulder at the sound of Adrienne in the doorway. "You must be Levi's friend. I am Zipporah, Nathaniel's fiancee," Zipporah introduced herself. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady…?" Zipporah raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for Adrienne to finish the introduction. "Fairfax," Adrienne offered, "Lady Adrienne Fairfax of Virginia." She made sure to give the woman before her the same courtesy given to Nathaniel, greeting her with a curtsy and a nod of her head in acknowledgment. Zipporah went back to preparing the bed. "I was rather shocked to hear that Levi had a friend, let alone a female friend," Zipporah told Adrienne casually. "He's a 13-year-old boy, after all. Half his mind still thinks girls are gross, while the other half is saying girls are pretty. So I am rather curious as to how you two came to meet." "He tried to bribe me out of my room in York city," Adrienne replied plainly in her sweet tone, leaning against the doorway slightly, "An endeavor in which he did not succeed. And then proceeded to act as my valet for the duration of my stay in the city." Zipporah let out a breathy laugh. "He didn't steal your key and lock you out of your room, so call yourself fortunate," she chuckled, shaking her head at the boy's antics as she tucked in the bed's sheets. "Likely because my key was not on my person," Adrienne offered the woman, "It was in the possession of my godfather, Lord Howe, who I had come to York city to visit." At that, Zipporah's head snapped to look at Adrienne, eyes wide. "Lord Howe? As in William Howe, the British Royal Army general?" Adrienne smiled at the recognition, affirming her supposition, "Yes, Madam. The very same." Zipporah was impassive for a moment before shaking her head with a small smile, snorting in a very unladylike fashion. "And suddenly everything makes sense," she muttered under her breath, almost too low for Adrienne to hear. Adrienne furrowed her brow, approaching slowly so that they were no longer speaking freely across the small room, "I am afraid I do not follow. What precisely makes sense now?" Zipporah's eyes flicked up at her in shock, the gears in her head working viciously. "Sorry, that is way above my station of knowledge and definitely above yours," Zipporah told her after a moment. "If you were meant to know, you'd know already." "And who," Adrienne spoke low in tone, stepping too close to Zipporah for the brunette's own comfort zone, "Says that I do not." "The fact that you had to ask says you do not, my Lady," Zipporah stated simply. "Funny," she replied impartially, "I was under the assumption that the youngest Mr. Tallmadge was assisting his elder brother by visiting a few friends in the city. Few as they may be." Adrienne smiled innocently at her, "But what would I know." "When it comes to Levi, helping his brother is all the information you need to know. Trust me, the less you know, the better," Zipporah sighed tiredly, suddenly exhausted. "Well, he has done a miserable job at that," Adrienne laughed quietly before smiling comfortingly at Zipporah, "But it takes one to know one, I suppose." "He's done better than you might think. Levi has a good sense of one's character. But what do I know about all this? I'm just the mom," Zipporah shrugged. "I am sure," Adrienne agreed, "Which is why I will not be mentioning to the Major how it took less than five minutes to get him to admit to such activity." Clearing her throat, Adrienne ran her hands over her immaculate silk skirts, flattening non-existent wrinkles, "The trunk needs to be partially unpacked. The Mulberry silk doesn't take well to being closed up for too long. If there is anything I could do to help you, please let me know; otherwise, I think it best to excuse myself and leave you to finish here." "Well, they're your clothes. Make yourself useful and unpack them, then, young lady," Zipporah responded in an unintentional 'Mom' voice. Adrienne, who had already turned towards the door, turned back around to look at Zipporah, who now had her back facing the blonde, with her mouth slightly agape. Zipporah looked over her shoulder, raised an eyebrow at the young woman, and then pointedly looked at Adrienne's traveling chest. Now, Adrienne was aware that she had offered her assistance, but she had not expected the other woman to take her up on the offer. She hesitantly approached the trunk, opening it as she attempted to keep her skirts from gathering dirt by brushing the floor. Crouching down with skirts in hand, Adrienne unpacked the fussy silks with perhaps a bit more struggle than she would have liked, courtesy of her hat. As she did her best to unpack, Adrienne could hear the humming as Zipporah returned to the sheets, noting when it stopped more by the intense stare the brunette had fixed on her back as she watched the blonde struggle unpack than the lack of sound. "You doing ok over there?" Zipporah asked, not taking her eyes off the girl. "Yes, of course," Adrienne replied politely, utterly unaware of just how out of breath she sounded. This should be easy, but the bending and interference of her skirts, lace, and accessories was proving to make the task quite challenging. "Alright," Zipporah answered skeptically. "Just looking like you aren't used to unpacking your own trunk." Adrienne flushed a light pink across her cheeks and looked sheepishly to Zipporah, knowing there were no words that could defend her in this situation. Adrienne may have been some form of great lady, but that mattered very little in this quaint country house. "If you really need the help, I can go get Levi to help you unpack. Sorry to say, we don't have any other ladies in the household," Zipporah offered sweetly, behind a poorly hidden, devilish smirk. Adrienne's flush suddenly turned a very light pale at the idea. If there was one thing that she had learned from her week with the young boy, it was that he could be absolutely relentless in his teasing. Especially whenever it was something that any average person would have been perfectly capable of, not being so squeamish as to shy away from it. But before she replied, declining the offer, Adrienne weighed her choices. She could stay here herself and attempt to unpack the trunk, leaving her in an incredibly disheveled state when she returned to her hosts, or she could bite the bullet and suffer through the teasing from the younger boy but at least maintain some sense of dignity, if not propriety. With a slightly defeated sigh, Adrienne conceded, "That would be much appreciated, Madam. Thank you." Instantly, Zipporah raised an eyebrow in surprise. She hadn't been expecting that. She had been expecting the younger girl to decline out of pride. Didn't really matter to Zipporah, she got to be entertained either way, but now she would have endless enjoyment from seeing Levi having to touch ladies undergarments. Oh lord, when Benjamin and Caleb heard of this…. "As you wish," Zipporah said, inclining her head before sweeping from the room. However, she wasn't going to go all the way downstairs, just to come back up. Standing at the top landing, she leaned over the railing and yelled. "Levi! Get your butt up here!!" Adrienne stumbled at the sudden yelling as she attempted to rise to her feet, almost sweeping her flat onto the floor. To say that she was unused to such noise and ruckus would be acceptable in any other place. Women and men of her breeding were usually far more gentile and subdued in their tone and volume. But she allowed the complaint to slip through her mind, keeping such comments to herself, opting instead to reach out and catch herself, her skin getting pale again, just as it was regaining some color. 'So much for dignity,' she thought. With loud stomping, Levi came stomping up the stairs, pulling to a stop on the top landing beside Zipporah, an irritating look on his face. "What the hell, Zipporah?" "Help Lady Fairfax unpack her trunk," Zipporah ordered him, none too gently. Levi's eyes quickly flicked from Adrienne to Zipporah and back. "Why? Can't she do it?" He shrugged, annoyed. It was just a trunk. Any normal person could unpack a trunk. "You're doing it because I'm telling you to do it. Now go," Zipporah ordered sternly, pointing to the trunk beside Adrienne in the guest room. Levi let out a dramatic groan before turning and stomping over to Adrienne. Adrienne had seen such behavior from the boy before, mostly complaining about how his arms ached from carrying 'absurd amounts of bags and boxes' whenever Lord Howe and her went out to peruse the city's shops. Still, this time Adrienne did not find herself playfully annoyed. This time she truly felt as if she was the annoyance, however clear as it may be that Levi was pulling their leg. She stared silently as he approached the trunk, moving a step away from her. Crouching down, he started pulling clothes from the trunk. Quilted petticoats, silk petticoats, jackets, gowns, panniers, chemise, cloaks, muff, hats, and lace. All types of clothes. Some looked the same. Others looked different. Levi didn't quite understand why she had to have two or three petticoats that looked nearly identical. He pulled out another garment and looked at it curiously. "What the hell is this?" Adrienne looked down at the pure white piece that was being held in the boy's hands, a soft linen chemise, and she blanched, practically fainting at the very idea of such a thing being put on display. It would make sense that he had never seen one before, and surely the boy did not know that such an item was meant to be handled discretely. Adrienne's floundering suddenly made her wish she had a fan behind which she could hide, but of course, her fans were packed underneath the rest of the garments. "My apologies, I thought I had gotten the last of those already." "That doesn't answer my question. Actually, you seem to actively be avoiding my question," Levi responded, his piercing blue eyes flicking up to burrow into Adrienne. Zipporah stifled a laugh behind her hand from her spot against the door jam, where she was watching the exchange. "So I repeat, what the hell is it?" Adrienne braced herself against the bed as she replied as quickly and meekly as possible. "It is a," she paused, swallowing in an attempt to keep her wits about her before she fainted back onto the bed out of sheer embarrassment, "Chemise. It is a lady's chemise." Levi immediately let out a loud yelp, dropping the chemise. Zipporah tried to hold back her laughs, she really did. But nope, she couldn't do it. The laughs came bubbling out, and soon, she was laughing loudly, with only the door jam holding her up. Levi glared over at her, eyes narrowed in accusation. "Zipporah, did you just play me?" "No, no. Lady Fairfax really does need help unpacking," Zipporah laughed, finally taking control of herself. "Then you can do it," Levi growled, getting up and stomping off to his room across the hall, irritation, and embarrassment rolling off him in waves. The bedroom door slammed loudly behind him, the silence echoing off the walls afterward. Adrienne, attempting to diffuse the tension, spoke softly to Zipporah, "Well, I think that went well. All things considered." "For Levi, definitely," Zipporah chuckled as she reentered the room and crouched down next to the trunk. She picked up the discarded garments and started putting them away in drawers. "Thank you," Adrienne offered, sitting on the edge of the bed till the lightheadedness went away. "You'll excuse me," she suggested as she sat, feeling bad for leaving the woman to the clothing. "I am afraid I'm feeling incredibly faint, and I would be terribly embarrassed to pass out in front of you." She had minimal dignity left, but by god, she would cling to it as best she could. Zipporah nodded sympathetically. "Take the time you need. Is there anything I can do for you?" Zipporah asked, looking up at the girl. Zipporah supposed she wouldn't give her too much more of a hard time, she probably did have a long day. Adrienne knew her answer should be a glass of Madeira. She had heard enough from McHenry during her Christmas at Valley Forge to know that it was a fine replenishment for the blood and often helped best when an individual was faint. But she did not ask, knowing that she had asked plenty already. "Oh, no, thank you. I do not want to be a further burden to you, Mrs. Tallmadge." "It's not a problem. To be fair, we have tortured you enough for one evening. The least we can do is offer you some comforts," Zipporah responded, putting the last of the clothes away. "However, if you'd prefer to be left alone and get settled, I can leave you be." "Oh, I would hate to be rude," Adrienne began, smiling weakly, "But I would also hate to take time away from you all sharing it with each other." To be honest, she was desperate to curl up in her dressing robe with her books and forget all that had occurred today. "I truly appreciate that," Zipporah told Adrienne earnestly. "You look exhausted. I will leave you be." Zipporah nodded in her direction, then swept from the room, leaving Adrienne alone.

Adrienne sat in the bed, sheets haphazardly thrown over her legs, candlelight burning over her shoulder as she read. The sun had begun setting already in the window, casting shadows over the room that went unnoticed. She barely noticed the soft knock on the door, her attention being drawn by the unusually soft voice belonging to Levi. 'He must be terrified to enter now,' she mused, pulled her dressing gown closer around her as she closed her book. "Yes?" she called softly to the still-closed door. "Can I come in?" His voice was soft and slightly sheepish. "You mean am I decent?" she teased, continuing tenderly, "Because if so, the answer is yes. You may come in." The bedroom door quietly opened, and the boy stood awkwardly in the doorway, shuffling on his feet and avoiding eye contact. It made him look pitifully small and young. "Would you mind helping me with something?" He asked, his hands fidgeting behind his back. "Depends. What is it?" She bookmarked her page with a ribbon and placed the book in her lap. "I am afraid you might have to wait for me to get dressed again." "That's fine. I want to surprise Zipporah and my dad with Christmas cookies when they get back from their date...but I don't know how to make them. Or anything else, for that matter," Levi told her, finally glancing up at her with those big, blue eyes. Adrienne's heart melted slightly at the sweeter side of the boy; she sympathized with his request. She remembered making many a gift for her own parents, made mostly out of things that made her mother very cross with her. She had lost count of how many curtains she had terrorized for the same cause. "Of course," she nodded, "But I am afraid it will be a learning experience for both of us." There was a pause before Adrienne continued, cautiously, "What exactly would be appropriate for a kitchen, as far as attire goes?" Levi let out a bark of laughter, but with her, not at her. "Something casual, something you wouldn't mind getting dirty. But don't worry, we have aprons. I'll meet you downstairs," Levi grinned, turning on his heel and sprinting excitedly from the room. Adrienne huffed, forcing herself from the warmth of the bed to the dresser. Usually, she would not have to assemble her own outfits, but she never minded doing so. Adrienne enjoyed her clothes far too much to ever complain about such a thing. After lots of searching, she found a simple blue long-sleeved gown, donning a warm winter lace fichu, short entanglements, and a light blue sash around the waist. Adrienne left her hair in the smoothly assembled half-up style that Zipporah had offered gladly to do for her and descended down the stairs. "Levi?" she called out, the house silent besides the crackling of the fires, providing warmth to the house. Upon entering the kitchen, Adrienne saw Levi in the corner, pulling a large bag of flour from the pantry. He glanced quickly over his shoulder at her, seeing she was fully dressed in casual wear. "Apron is on the chair if you want it. Once you got that taken care of, can you get a fire started in the oven?" Levi grumbled out, dragging the flour across the floor towards the counter and the bowl sitting on top. Adrienne approached the chair, wrapping the apron around her waist as she watched him struggle with the flour. "Do you always take on more than you can carry, or is that just today?" "I'm the youngest of three boys, both are...were soldiers and Yale graduates. This is totally normal. I got a lot to live up to. I have to make a name for myself somehow," Levi explained, pulling a knife out to cut the top of the bag open. "And will you be attending Yale as well then, Mr. Tallmadge?" Adrienne asked, still watching him from where she stood as he worked. "That was the plan, before the war. But since the war broke out, I haven't really been to school. So right now...I essentially only have a fifth-grade education," Levi replied, setting the knife down and hefting the bag of flour into his arms. As he went to dump the flour into the bowl, instead of pouring in moderation, the whole bag dumped out into the bowl with an ungracious flour cloud. "Oops," Levi coughed, waving the flour cloud out of his face, his whole head and torso coated in flour. Adrienne laughed, ignoring the light flour dusting her skirts and bodice received, having fun at Levi's expense. "You know, I think that perhaps that a bit too much face powder, but if you are certain, I can go grab my rouge, and I am certain you will be very handsome, Mr. Tallmadge." "Are you calling me ugly? I'm a dream, a total catch, the complete package. Girls are beating down my front door," Levi responded, dramatically scandalized at the insinuation that he wasn't already handsome. "Can you start the fire in the oven while I get the eggs and powdered coriander seed?" "I would love to," Adrienne began, laughing gleefully at the younger boy's antics, "Just one question. How does one light a fire?" "There's some flint in the top drawer, and kindling is by the fireplace. Just put the kindling in the oven and spark the flint," Levi explained, chuckling slightly. "Right, spark the flint," she trailed off, "And how would one do that exactly?" Levi sighed, rolling his eyes slightly. "Ok, change of plans. I'll start the fire, and you get the eggs and coriander seed. Coriander seed is in the pantry, eggs are in the cellar," Levi told her, pointing to the pantry on the side of the kitchen. Adrienne nodded, heading first to the cellar with a candlestick. She wasted no time down in the dark underground storage space behind the house, climbing back out with several eggs carefully put into a basket. Entering the kitchen once more, she placed the basket on the counter atop of a small mountain of flour that had seemingly missed its intended target. Next, Adrienne pulled out the glass jar of the Coriander seeds and placed them on the table as well, chuckling as Levi cried out triumphant when the fire sparked to a comfortable roar. Levi turned back to Adrienne, nodding in approval as he saw the eggs and the coriander seeds. Turning to the countertop, he pulled a slightly floury cookbook towards him. "So...we need sugar, and the coriander seeds need to be powdered," he read, brushing the flour from the pages. "If you want to powder the seeds, I'll get the sugar. The mortar and pestle are on the counter, right there." Adrienne took a moment to cheer as she turned to find the bowl and tool. This she knew precisely how to do. Her father used to make his own various herbal concoctions as experiments and oftentimes would let her help him. She could distinctly remember that he would wrap his hands around hers and walk her through the motions of the tool while tucked away in one of Belvoir's greenhouses. She leaned over Levi to look at the recipe in order to discern the amount required, not noticing just how close she was to the boy as she peered down at the flour-coated book. Instantly, Levi flinched away from the close contact. He hated fast movements or unpredictable movements. He stumbled a bit before regaining composure, clearing his throat. "Yeah, I'll just...get the sugar," he rasped out awkwardly, turning his back on her and entering the pantry for the bag of sugar. Adrienne furrowed her brow but let the boy go, happy to sing softly to herself as she crushed the seeds, motions careful and well-rehearsed, constantly shifting eyes to the door Levi had disappeared through, then back to the cookbook and her hands as they worked. She was attentive this time, to when the door creaked back open, her singling trailing off as Levi entered. "At least if this one gets everywhere, it's delicious," Levi commented as he pulled the smaller bag of sugar out on his shoulder, slamming it down on the countertop beside the bowl full of flour as he stepped up next to Adrienne. This time it was Adrienne's turn to flinch away as a small pile of flower rose. She was certain that it could be played off as simply being startled by the sudden slam. Men loved to believe that women were fragile, delicate little things, so there was no reason she should not get away with it. "Levi-" Adrienne began before cutting herself off. She was likely not going to like the answer to her question, so she decided to leave the boy alone for the time being. Once again, Levi took the knife and slit open the top of the bag. This time when he poured it, though, he took hold of the top corner, hoping to be able to control the moderation slightly better. Once he had the appropriate amount, he set the bag on the ground. "Let's see if I can crack these eggs without making a mess, shall we?" Levi laughed as he picked up one of the eggs. He slammed the egg on the edge of the bowl, way too hard, causing the whole egg to crumble and egg yolk and egg white to get all over the countertop. "Oops...again," Levi mumbled, the shell's remnants crushed between his fingers. Adrienne tried only barely to stop herself from full out laughing at him. "You will ruin all the eggs like that, are eggs not usually cracked carefully? Because if so you, have done a miserable job." Levi glared up at her. "Yeah, they are," He grumbled. "But I'm not particularly good at the 'gentle' aspect of things. If you need someone roughed up, though, I'm your man." He grabbed the basket of eggs and pushed it towards Adrienne. "You give it a shot, then, if you're so skilled," He mocked, crossing his arms. Adrienne huffed, moving the basket even closer to her before taking an egg out and attempting to crack it, but unlike Levi, her attempt was so gentle the egg did not crack at all. She huffed and tried again, still nothing, and then she repositioned herself and hit it harder against the counter, causing it to shatter and splatter all over Adrienne's hands and Levi's front. Adrienne cracked a grin at him as he was now covered with flour, some light sugar, and now two eggs, "Well, I think it is certainly clear that you are closer to becoming a cookie than whatever is inside that bowl." "As long as we don't put me in the oven, I'm fine with that," Levi shot back. "Though it's clear that neither of us is skilled at egg cracking." He picked up another egg to try again, posing his hand over the edge of the bowl. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he tapped the egg against the bowl. A slight crack appeared in the shell of the egg, causing a small smile to blossom on Levi's face. Prying his nails into the crack, like he'd seen Zipporah do many times, he slowly pried the two halves of the eggshell apart, the yolk and white sliding goopily into the bowl with a loud plop. Adrienne cried out with a cheer, causing Levi's smile to spread a bit wider as she moved back across the table to hand him the cookbook. "So, Mr. Baking Extraordinaire, what will you have me doing next?" she teased, wiping her yolk covered hands on the apron tied around her waist before plopping herself onto the chair at the side of the table. "Have I complained about how exhausting this is yet?" she asked, "I hate to sound repetitive." "Actually, you have not. So you're allowed a complaint," Levi teased with a grin as he cautiously cracked one more egg into the bowl. He looked over the bowl to the cookbook being offered to him. "We need some butter and a cup of milk. The butter is still in the churn, easy enough. Just scoop it out and plop it in. Milk is in the cellar. Then it says we need to knead it together." "Ok," she sighed, rising to her feet once again, "I will take the cellar and leave you to your churn." She smirked playfully at him as she made her way to the door, skirts dragging behind her as she took a candle once more and headed out the back door. The temperature had either dropped significantly, or that kitchen was hotter than it seemed. Adrienne was practically shaking as she collected the milk, thinking to herself, 'It better not be frozen. That would seriously dampen my mood at the moment.' Success was found when the milk was indeed still a liquid. She toted one small carton up the stairs with some slight struggle. "Mr. Tallmadge, I believe I have-" she cut off as he stared at Levi, frustratingly scraping at the churn, "Are you alright?" "Yeah, there's just some butter stuck to the bottom. This would be so much easier if I had already hit my growth spurt," He grumbled as he tried to scrape the butter from the bottom, plopping the little bits he could with the large pile of butter that was already sitting on the countertop. Adrienne approached the table, placing the jug of milk down on the table. "Do we really need this much butter?" she asked, "It seems a bit excessive to me, but what do I know." "The recipe says a pound of butter. Pick that up. Does it feel like a pound?" Levi replied nonchalantly. Adrienne opened her mouth to speak but promptly closed it, hesitating for a moment before doing as she was told. She turned to Levi, awkwardly cupping the butter in her hands, "I have no idea. The only experience I have with weight measuring is marzipan, money, and jewelry." Levi shrugged. "Does it matter? A pound of feathers, a pound of bricks, either way, it's still a pound," He stated logically as he stood up, wiping his hands off on his breeches. "Fair enough," she sighed, "In that case, I think that we have enough." She awkwardly dropped it into the bowl and wiped her hands off on the borrowed apron. "So," Adrienne motioned at the flour-covered table, "What is next?" "Put in the milk, and mix it all together. Easy peasy," Levi said simply as he grabbed the milk jug. Adrienne took a step back as he did so. Levi cast her a judging glance, and she replied, "Just pointing out that you have not had a great track record tonight, and while you may have very little salvageable dignity at the moment, I still have plenty." Levi paused a moment, deciding whether or not to be insulted. Finally, he shrugged. "Ok, valid point," he nodded. He grasped the jug firmly, gathered himself, and then poured a cup or so of milk into the bowl. As he pulled the jug back, in his haste, the milk sloshed over the edge of the jug and onto his face, soaking his bangs. He blinked his eyes rapidly against the milky onslaught. A glare was sent Adrienne's way by Levi as she laughed at his plight. The boy was quite a sight now and would undoubtedly need to seriously clean up before his father and Zipporah returned. Adrienne stepped back again as she spoke, "I stand corrected. There is no dignity left to be recovered, Mr. Tallmadge." "I would glare, but you...might have a point. I never did say I could cook. Which is why I asked for your help. You're a girl. You're supposed to know these things," Levi stated, thinking this was the most apparent train of thought. "If I was supposed to know this, I assure you between my parents, maids, governess, and tutors, I would have been taught to full proficiency." She looked him up and down, trying not to laugh, "If it makes you feel any better, I think you are doing an excellent job for your first time cooking!" "That actually does make me feel better, thank you," Levi said as he pulled out a wooden spoon. Dipping the spoon into the bowl, he started to mix all the ingredients together into a dough. With the bowl wedged against his chest, he used all the muscles he had to turn each separate ingredient, the milk, the eggs, the flour, the sugar, into a single product. Adrienne took this moment to sit down at the table for a moment's rest, watching him tiredly. Watching as he began to shape the cookies, "How long should they bake?" she asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him. "Only 15 minutes," Levi told her as he pulled out a baking stone and placed small lumps of sugar cookie dough on the stone. He ripped off a small chunk of dough and held it out to Adrienne. "Dough?" She looked up at him, her face unintentionally confused in the way a naive child might be. "What for?" she asked, genuinely curious about his offer. Her mother had never so much as allowed anything even slightly imperfect on her dining tables, and to be honest, Adrienne could not locate the kitchens in her own house without asking someone for guidance. Levi looked at her equally confused, so Adrienne explained, "My mother never let me even venture into the kitchens, this might be the first time I have seen cookie dough, so I genuinely do not know why it is being offered." "Damn. And I thought my childhood was depressing," Levi responded, still holding the dough out. "Well, you have no choice now. I am forcing this upon you. Raw cookie dough is the best thing to ever grace human existence." He practically pushed the dough under Adrienne's nose. Adrienne leaned back in the chair to avoid the dough touching her skin, laughing lightly as she accepted the piece from his hands as she replied, "There is plenty more where that came from. My childhood was one of many rules and prying eyes." She cautiously broke off an even smaller piece in her fingers. Her face lit up, shifting from amusement to delight once she tried it. "I will concede to you this time; cookie dough is absolutely a delicacy in my books now, Mr. Tallmadge." "See, told you," Levi grinned as he popped his own small piece of dough into his mouth before continuing to put small, little lumps of dough on the baking stone. Once there was no dough left, and the stone was filled, he picked it up and walked over to the oven set into the brick next to the fireplace. "Mind opening the door for me," Levi asked, his hands full with the baking stone. "Of course," Adrienne jumped to her feet, walking quickly over to the fireplace that was set into the side of the kitchen. She opened the small door that was the baking oven. Levi slowly slid the baking stone into the oven, closing the door behind it. "Alright, we'll check on it in 15 minutes," Levi told Adrienne as he stepped back from the oven. He went over to one of the chairs and slumped down into it. "Whoo, I'm exhausted now." Adrienne nodded, "I told you that about 30 minutes ago. This is exhausting." A moment of silence passed before Adrienne spoke up again, "Would you find it horribly impolite if I went to go fetch my book?" "Nah, go right ahead," Levi said as he laid his head down for a second. Just a second, he promised. Adrienne did as she promised, ascending the stairs in search of her book, which he could not help but read on her way down. Except, reading in motion always made her nauseous, so she figured she could sit down on the bed and read a page. Or two. Voltaire's philosophy was always so entrancing to the blonde.

"What in Heaven and Earth is going on here?" Levi stumbled out of his chair as the booming voice of his father rang through the kitchen, barely catching himself on the countertop. Righting himself, he spun around to see both his dad and Zipporah standing in the kitchen's doorway. "Dad! You're home early!" Levi looked from his dad and Zipporah to the mess of a kitchen around him. Flour everywhere, sugar everywhere, puddles of milk, eggshells, egg whites, and egg yolks all over the countertops and floor. And Levi didn't look much better. "Umm...I can explain," Levi stated awkwardly, his hands fidgeting and feet shuffling. "I sure hope so, young man," Nathaniel responded sternly, crossing his arms and not taking his eyes off his youngest son. "Umm….I just thought... I'd surprise you and Zipporah with Christmas cookies. They're still baking, though. I wrangled Adrienne into helping me," Levi told his father, refusing to look at him. Instantly, both Nathaniel and Zipporah's faces softened. "Let's see how well you did then, shall we?" Zipporah said with a sweet, gentle smile as she went over to the oven and opened it up, pulling out the baking stone. The cookies were just about done, so she pulled them out and set them on the counter to cool. "These look delicious, Levi," Zipporah picking one up and taking a delicate bite. "Not bad for a first try." "You like them?" Levi looked up at Zipporah hopefully. "I do. You and Lady Fairfax did an excellent job, thank you," Zipporah said, kissing him on the forehead, making a face as she pulled away. "But you really need a bath, young man." Both Nathanial and Levi started laughing at the same time. She wasn't wrong. Levi was a mess. Zipporah ushered the boys upstairs, making sure to leave Levi to be put to bed under his father's care, knowing full well that no matter how filthy he is, he will find a way to smuggle himself to bed without washing up first and soil all his sheets. She knocked quietly on Adrienne's bedroom door, creaking it open when no response was received to find the candles still burning, but the girl fast asleep atop the pillows, apron wrapped around her waist and a long streak of flour going down the side of her face. Zipporah removed the filthy apron, gently wiping away the flour from the younger girl's face and snuffing out the candles in the room. She chuckled to herself at the book in the blonde's hands as she marked the page and placed it away. Finally, before closing the door, she looked back at the girl, shaking her head at the antics of the two young people. Her hesitation allowed Nathaniel to sneak up behind her as she was winding down. "They are to bed now, my dear," he stood directly behind her, placing his hands tenderly on her waist, "I think it is time we retire as well." Turning their backs on the sleeping children, Adrienne in her room and Levi in his, Zipporah and Nathaniel walked silently, hand in hand, to their bedroom down the hall, the door snapping shut behind them. The only noise left in the silent home was the breathing of the children and creaking of the old house.

#i loved writing this #it was actually so much fun #i love nathaniel andzipporah #also mom zipporah is peak #poor adrienne and levi #really going through it #BoB #lbl #levi tallmadge #adrienne Fairfax #lady adrienne fairfax #zipporah strong #nathaniel tallmadge #12 days of turn #12 days of turn 2020

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redneckangelsdrinkmoonshine · 3 years

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Heaven Forbid/ 5. November, 2021

Chapter 1 - "When It Rains, It Pours" (draft)

It was almost as if the Georgian skies were falling apart; rain poured down freely while the wind wailed like a banshee that was hiding somewhere off in the distance. It seemed to carry the same promise of death and destruction.

The wipers of the Impala squeaked and screeched like never as they struggled to fight off the Tsunami that was gathered at the bottom of the windshield. Sam thought that he should maybe turn them off, at least then his brother wouldn’t have to get new ones because these were bound to break any second. However, that was the least of their concerns, and they seemed to have plenty. Surprisingly, the storm with chances of a tornado wasn’t one of them either. What was, was currently bleeding out on the backseat while Dean’s shaky hands applied pressure to the wound on the poor creature’s abdomen while holding him at a weird angle so neither his back or stomach were in contact with the seat. Creature, because they had no idea what Cas was anyway.

Castiel started coughing violently when he and Dean jerked to the side due to the harsh turn. Dean wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, but he decided it was a good thing; if Cas had enough air in his lungs to cough then he was going to be alright. “Okay, Sammy, we’re gonna go down Chestlehurst road, pass two churches, cross the bridge that goes over Keg creek, then at the end of the street you’re gonna make a left. Then we go down, the farm is on the right.”

“Go a bit faster, Goddammit! Would’ve been faster if we carried the freaking car there!” The last part was muttered under Dean’s breath, his wide, green eyes skimmed all over the place, from the red of Cas’s blood to the scenery that passed by them, always searching for the signs on the highway, showing which miles they passed. Dean’s free hand cradled Cas’s head closer to his chest as his other hand pressed down even harder, letting out a barely there sigh when Cas muttered some nonsense under his breath, “Ey buddy, just hang on a little longer, alright? You’re a tough son of a bitch, the toughest one I know.” Castiel's shirtless self was shivering hard, which was understandable, he had lost a lot of blood. Dean paused before he buried his face in Castiel’s dirty, tousled hair and planted a careful kiss on the top of his head, “Don’t you dare prove me wrong, you hear me? I know you hate to disappoint me, you’ve never done that so don’t start now, okay?”

The older Winchester continued to track the plates on the highway, making a mental check to make sure they were heading the right way. He sighed in relief when he saw the exit, along with the sign that said “sixteen”, “Here! Right here!”

Dean cursed under his breath when he felt the blood soak through the handkerchief and seep into his hand like ink, he didn't even want to think about the open wounds on his back which were left to the mercy of the air, “Alright Sammy, I don’t care about the freaking damage from potholes or whatever, Baby can handle it, however – look, the shock absorbers are stronger than Cas right now so just go freaking faster.”

They were almost there but it still felt as if it would take ten more hours. Just when Dean started to fear the worst because Cas was way too quiet for way too long and almost completely unresponsive, the farm came into view. He patted Cas’s shoulder as his younger brother breathed out a sigh of relief, “It’s okay Cas, we’re here, we’re gonna be okay.” Just when Dean was ready to let out a colorful combination of curse words, relief washed over him when he saw that the storm had taken care of the gate that would’ve been in their way was it otherwise. Sam went all the way to the house, parking the car on the side. He opened his door as Dean gave him instructions, “Tell them we need help, I don’t want to move him unless I know exactly how to.” Sam nodded as he scrambled out of the Impala and rounded the side of the house. Dean took in a shaky breath and all of the air left his lungs when he noticed that Castiel was way too still for his liking, “Cas? Castiel?!”

The door to his side opened and there stood Sam, a man with a white beard and a guy who looked way too much like Bobby. They helped get Cas out of the car gently, somehow Castiel didn’t even grunt in protest, and once Dean was somewhat stable on his feet, he accepted the weight of the fallen angel in his arms. The older man spoke,”We’ve gotta take ‘im to the infirmary, from what I see we don’t have much time.”

The storm had calmed, but not the one inside Dean’s head. He was sitting on a chair, his eyes were unfocused and his dull nails were picking at the blood that seemed to be almost like ink that was deep under his skin. The rain outside was nothing but a calm drizzle, however it caused them nothing but anxiety. Sam was pacing back and forth, shooting worried glances at his brother, but Dean didn’t even have the energy to tell him he was fine. Maybe because he wasn’t, he was far from it.

The scene from earlier that day played in his mind on repeat, over and over again. His own terrified scream made his ears ring and his head pound, the vision of Castiel chained up like a rabbit with zero signs of life showing. Surprisingly the only threat was a deep wound in his abdomen that made both Sam and Dean fear that he had already lost a lot of blood, but thankfully that wasn’t the case. It was almost like Cas had fought so hard to stay alive just so he could make sure they found him so he could say goodbye.

The brothers finally regained their control and returned to the plan, they had to get Castiel out of these chains and into the Impala. Dean stood in front of Castiel yet again, ready to catch him before he fell. However, when Sam started to undo the restrains, Castiel’s eyes opened but he didn’t seem to see a thing. His mouth was open in a silent scream, ready to fight whoever was in sight which made Dean equally terrified and proud. But then Castiel’s eyes finally met Dean’s and he immediately calmed down. He tilted his head to the side in his typical Cas way before he breathed out with a barely there smile, “Dean?” With that, his eyes rolled back and Dean accepted Castiel’s limp body into his arms when the last chain was undone.

Of course, they couldn't have nice things. They found Castiel, he was alive, but the wound on his abdomen wasn't the only major one.

When Dean cradled Cas’s face in his shaky hands, his vision was blurry with tears. Sam started to undo the chains while Dean got in the right position to accept Castiel’s weight, but then Sam jumped back with a startled "Son of a bitch!". Of course it didn't sound well, so Dean went to stand next to Sam. The sight in front of them was gruesome: there were six slices across Castiel's back, parallel to one another. The longest set was seven inches long and about three inches wide, the other two were about five inches in length and two inches in width. The longest set was the one in the middle, the first row was on the shoulder blades and the third was maybe just shy of the small of Castiel's back. Slightly underneath them, on either side of Castiel's loin, about eight inches under where the third set of cuts ended stood another set of wounds, but in a round shape. They were slightly burned, almost as if whoever made these cuts decided to seal them shut. Their attempt to stop the bleeding was more or less useless, because blood still oozed and trickled down slowly but steadily.

When the two week marker of Castiel’s absence hit, Dean decided to look for clues. However, he had no idea where to begin. Thankfully, when Dean used his heart, Sam used his brain.

All types of feelings burned in his veins. Dean was overwhelmed with sadness, anger, hurt, and hopelessness, but the worst of it all was grief. What was he going to tell Claire and Jack? Why did Cas go off somewhere in the first place, without even telling Dean? That son of a bitch had to have the nerve to die before answering Dean’s many questions.

Dean had no idea how it was so hard for Cas to learn. Through the past thirteen years, whenever Castiel or any of their trio, sometimes even the extended crew, whenever anyone didn’t tell the others what they were up to something bad happened. But Castiel always took it to the next level. The thing with the Leviathans was bad, then Naomi, Metatron. From bad to worse. However, Cas getting stabbed and not having the ability to heal himself? That only meant one thing, Castiel’s grace was damaged or completely gone. He was no longer an angel. Dean decided that Castiel had scraped the absolute bottom.

Back in the beginning of it all, when their father had disappeared and Dean went to look for him with Sam, they looked for clues in John’s journal. Ever since they found the bunker, they no longer used that thing. Whenever Castiel was around and they didn’t have a case, he would sit around with a book. Castiel was the only one who had read all of the books, some of them even more than once and whenever he left the bunker, he would come back with even more books, some were normal novels, others were books they could use for research. That one thing Castiel loved to read more than anything was John’s journal. When Dean noticed that his friend had read the journal for the fiftieth the time, the next time he went out to get more beer and some pie, he stopped by the bookstore he knew Cas liked and bought a travel journal. The thing looked quite thick, it had enough pages for Cas to fill with his smartass thoughts and discoveries. Dean even bought a bunch of pens and some pencils, along with a sharpener and an eraser, for all he knew Castiel was a hidden Picasso. The only reason Dean had bought that journal was because the leather covers were the same beige as Castiel’s trench coat and the silk string that separated the pages was the deep shade of blue that was Cas’s newest suit.

Castiel was stunned, he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. He carefully peered inside the bag and a child-like innocence lit up his face. His eyes were wide and Dean decided to ignore the way his heart started beating faster. He shrugged as he pushed himself away from the door frame, “At this point you’ve read dad’s journal a hundred times. I’m sure you’re an expert now and I, I decided it’d be a good idea to create your own journal.” Castiel’s lips trembled slightly before he beamed with an adorable, sickeningly-sweet smile on his face, the type of smile that made his nose scrunch up and the corners of his eyes crinkle, “Thank you.” Dean nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck. He sighed before he reached out and patted Castiel’s chest gently, “Alright, get in the shower, you smell like crap.” Castiel rolled his eyes with a hint of a smile before he stepped back enough to close the door.

Dean knew he would always remember Castiel’s face when he gave him that journal. He had it in a simple paper bag, Cas was in his room in the bunker, the number fifteen was no longer black, Cas had changed it to gold when he claimed the room as his own.

Cas and Dean never knocked on each other’s doors. When he opened the door, Dean was taken by surprise when he saw Castiel doing handstand push-ups in perfect form, “Damn, I don’t know if I should come back later or go get some popcorn and a drink.” Dean had to mask his laughter with a cough when he scared Castiel so badly that he crumbled to the ground with a squeak, “Y’know Cas, I thought angels were supposed to be graceful-” “And I thought humans did that thing where they knock and ask for permission before they enter a closed door.” Dean tried to look wherever but his eyes were glued to Cas's naked, sweaty upper body. The fact that he wore some of Dean's old sweats didn't help at all. Maybe the angel knew what he was doing because he purposefully lifted himself on his hands before he set down his feet and slowly straightened up to his full height. Dean cocked his head to the side in surprise, “I didn’t know you have a tattoo.” Cas looked at the ink on his ribs as he scratched it, “Got it back when I was human. Angels were, as you say, on my ass, and I needed to protect myself somehow. It hurt like hell but I ended up liking it. I could heal it completely, remove the ink from my body if I wanted to, but I don’t mind it.” He undid the strings of his pants to redo them and Dean found it nearly impossible to look Cas in the eyes, “What’s up, is there a case?” Dean shook his head as he licked his lips, “Nah, we’ve got a day off, for now. Look, I've, uh, I’ve got something for you.” He held out the bag with a small smile.

Castiel loved that journal way too much. He carried it everywhere and wrote in it a lot. He would sit at the big wooden table, surrounded by books and he would write whatever he found important in a notebook, then write it in the journal and he would even separate the different subjects and highlight important things. From thoughts to detailed sketches here and there that made John’s sketches look like doodles done by a toddler. Dean knew all of that because Cas would show him his progress from time to time. Of course Dean waited until Cas was not around so he could read whatever was on Cas’s mind. There was a single section of the journal that was written in Enochian and the fact that Dean didn’t understand it pissed him off, but he never asked what any of these words meant, because he respected Castiel's privacy.

Looking through John’s journal helped them find him so Sam was sure that if there was a place where they’d find any useful information it would be in Castiel’s journal. Dean had found it in the pocket of Castiel’s trench coat which was folded on the foot of Castiel’s bed. That was a huge red flag since Castiel never took it off and never went anywhere without the journal unless he was going to get in some real dirty business.

The man moved on, this time talking about Castiel's recovery, "We need to be sure he’s going to make it through the night, when he wakes up we’re going to turn the respirator off and we're going to figure out a way to make him rest on his side so he wouldn't have to put pressure on his back. I suggest someone stays with him all the time, I will also send one of my daughters from time to time to check his vitals. If all goes well, he should wake up tomorrow, well, today by noon. Worst case scenario, he'd be out for days, but he should pull through.” Sam sighed as he put a hand on his chest, sincerity dripping from his tone, “Thank you so, so much and I apologize for coming so late, but you were the only option we really had. We were sure you would be the best shot.” Dean nodded as he shoved his hands in his pockets, “Yea, really, that guy there? He’s family. We‘re really, really grateful for what you did. Every single second you spent working on him. Thank you.” The elderly one nodded his head, his deep eyes showing nothing but kindness and sympathy. “Thank me when he wakes up, son. I’m sorry about Bobby. He was a good man, such a shame he’s no longer with us.”

The door to the living room opened and the brothers looked at the newcomers. The man from the earlier walked inside, followed by a woman with kind eyes and blonde hair. The man was still wiping his hands on a towel, smears of Castiel’s blood stood out his snow-white shirt. Dean quickly got to his feet as he turned to the man, ignoring the warning look his brother sent him, “How is he? Is he going to be okay?” The man gave a single nod as he replied, “He is stable. I have fixed people up before, but I wasn’t really sure if he’s human at all, not that I wouldn’t have helped him, I just needed some time and information. Your guy is a lucky one, people with his injuries usually don’t last as long as he did. He’s going to be okay.” Dean sighed as he allowed his chin to fall against his chest while Sam slapped his back in victory. They returned their attention to the man when he spoke up, “He’s under right now, the medication I fixed in his IV is going to make him rather drowsy for a while, but his body needs to rest. There were multiple stab wounds, cuts, and bruises. Clear signs of torture. The stab wound in his abdomen is like nothing I’ve ever seen before, the ones on his back... I had to operate, but it should heal nicely. For now we’re keeping him on a respirator, better safe than sorry. There's an extra cocktail of pain killers because until he wakes up, he has to rest on his back and even if the removal was done nicely -" "Wait, removal?" Dean stepped forward as he pointed military-style, all five fingers pointed at Hershell, "What do you mean by removal?"

The older man was quiet for a second, trying to choose his words wisely, "If I'm not mistaken, your friend is an angel. A Seraph, judging by the count of the wings. I'm a religious man and to be completely honest, I have no idea how they did what they did... But the easy explanation would be that your friend had his wings and uropygial glands removed. I can't say anything else now until your friend has woken up and I've been able to run an actual check-up. There are zero traces of grace, of anything holy for that matter. He was turned mortal in a surgical way, something I've read about in some Norse myths." Dean lifted his hand and wiped his mouth, struggling to bottle the fear he felt. Sam had gone visibly pale and he was gaping like a fish out of water, so Dean could only guess that the news had hit him just as hard.

A moment of silence followed, Dean had to bite his tongue to swallow the urge to roll his eyes at the man and his wife when they did the “cross my heart and hope to die”. Dean reached out his hand as he introduced himself and his brother, “I’m Dean, this is my brother, Sam. The guy back there, his name is Castiel, but we call him Cas for short.” They all shook hands and then the man put a hand on the woman’s back, “I’m Hershel. This here, is my wife Anette. She pretty much did most of the work, thank God she’s a nurse, just like our youngest, Beth. These two are the brains, I’m nothing but a Christian man and a vet with a little bit of basic knowledge.”

Both Dean and Sam gulped at the same time. They shared a look, “A vet? Like... You mean a military doctor or-” Sam paled while his brother simply stood speechless, “-you mean veterinarian.” Hershel nodded before he shot a look at his wife who was struggling to hide her amusement. Dean cleared his throat as he pointed towards the door, “You, do you mind if I go check up on him? Y’know, just to make sure you haven’t attached bunny ears to him or some-” The “thing” came out in a grunt when Sam elbowed his brother a bit too harshly. Hershel gave him a nod as he stepped out of the way.

Mud stuck to Dean’s boots and he cringed when he saw that he had already left a print or two on the white tile floor of the infirmary. He paused to take them off by the front door and just as he was putting the left boot next to the right, he heard a voice, “Hey, don’t worry about it, I’m going to clean up in a second.”

While the girl got back to wiping the floors, Dean took his sweet ass time in front of the door that separated him from Castiel. He was afraid his heart was going to burst from anxiety. He bowed his head as he allowed his body to shake off the nerves, “Alright, stop acting like a chick.” He breathed in through his nose before he almost angrily gripped the door handle.

There was a girl that reminded him of the human version of Bambi. Her blonde curls were up in a messy ponytail with a fell braids here and there, her big blue eyes were almost like skies on a hot, summer day.

She had a kind smile on her clean, round face, such a comforting smile that Dean felt his own lips quirk up, “Don’t want to give you any more work, I’m sure we’ve already made a mess.” The girl was almost offended by Dean’s comment, “No, no! It’s okay, really! Like Daddy says, a good Christian is always there to help people.” Dean’s smile flattened a bit, but he made sure it wasn’t obvious, “Sure, I agree, I guess. Hershel is your dad, which probably makes you Beth?” The girl nodded with a soft "mm" sound as Dean awkwardly padded his way over to her in his socketed feet. He felt almost naked without the comfort of his boots but he tried to ignore it, “I’m Dean.” They shook hands, Dean was surprised by her firm grip and slightly calloused, warm hand, “Thank you for what you did to help our friend. His name is Castiel, by the way.” Beth’s smile softened, sympathy overtook her angelic features. “Oh, don’t even mention it!” She did a quick once-over and a childish mischievousness showed in her eyes, “I should probably let you get to him, would be nice for you to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up. Goodnight, Dean.” Dean paused before he decided to ignore it and instead flashed her a smile, “Goodnight, Beth.”

Just as he opened the door, he stopped like a deer in headlights. Once he snapped out of it, he closed the door so he could give them some privacy. Well, himself. Because he didn’t want to break down in front of Beth.

Castiel looked so small, he almost disappeared in the bed. The machines beeped, one dripped, the scariest of them was the one that hummed as it blew air into something that was like a muzzle, hiding that beautiful face. Castiel almost didn’t look like himself, the hospital gown was way too huge on him and he looked like he was drowning in that clothing.

There was a cut over his left eyebrow, another cut that seemed to go all the way from his bottom lip went down to his chin. He was wearing a shiner, his cheekbone was a sick, dark purple with red dots all over it, the corners of the bruise were already an ugly shade of green. However Dean knew that these injuries were nothing compared to the wound on his abdomen.

Dean lowered himself on the chair by Castiel’s bedside. His panicked eyes roamed all over the room and then over Castiel. He took a shaky breath before he reached over and took Castiel’s hand in his, “Alright, Cas, you son of a bitch. No matter what happens, no matter what you did, we’re gonna figure it out. You, me and the gang. You just need to wake up. That’s all, that’s all we need from you.” He furrowed his eyebrows as his eyes finally settled on Castiel’s closed ones, “That’s all I need from you. I need you.”

Dean’s hand went up to drag his palm over his face before he ran his fingers through his hair and pulled, hoping that pain would wake him up from whatever nightmare he was in. Even if Castiel’s injuries weren’t that bad, Dean knew that the emotional damage would be hard for Castiel to handle.

Castiel was drowning in guilt as an angel and angels weren’t supposed to feel emotions. Sure, Castiel was different, almost special, but he was still an angel. Angels were God’s soldiers. There was no thing such as a military man that walked away with all of his mentality. PTSD, depression, anxiety, that was just some of it. Castiel was once God's best soldier, a commander of his garrison, not to mention how many times Castiel proved that even if he was protecting the humans on Earth, his biggest priority was to serve God. Well, it used to be. Dean saw it all happen with his own eyes, the day Jack became God was the day Castiel gave up on religion and instead chose family. However, his past was still heavy on his shoulders. Dean was one to know God’s ways weren’t fair, so he didn’t even want to know, didn’t want to think of what Castiel had to do in Chuck’s name. Not to mention the things he did after he joined Team Free Will, the things he was so guilty of and the ones that once made him consider suicide.

#Destiel fix it fic #human!Cas #season 16 #twdxspn cross-over #angst #angst with happy ending #draft #unedited #To be found on AO3 on the 5. of November #Word count of this chapter : 4396 #Pages : 10 #Handwritten pages : 14

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creepyalienghost · 3 years

Text

Christmas disaster

Warning: abuse

Christmas Day was here and Joey drew had invited everyone from the studio to join them with there families. Sammy has been working hard cleaning around the house and cooking the food for the party tonight. He no longer worked there, instead was a house husband while Joey made the money. But Joey wasn’t doesn’t help much around the house. He believes Sammy should do it all. Sammy was exhausted from lack of sleep these pass few days. Cleaning, decorating, shopping, cooking. He was also hurt from a beating a day before. A bad one. Sammy had tried to ask him to help

out a little more. He was tired of Joey putting this all on him and just wanted a little bit of help. Joey ended up getting pissed and beat Sammy. He has broken many of Sammy’s ribs in the process and left bruises all over his body. It was his fault though. He should’ve knew better then to say anything that might set him off in a fit of rage. Sammy was stupid for trying. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut.

Speak of the devil, Joey came up behind Sammy, wrapping his arms gently around him so he wouldn’t hurt his broken ribs. “You almost done, tater tot?” He ask. “ it’s almost time for the guest to arrive.”

Sammy Tense up but nodded as he stirred the mashed potatoes in the bowl. “I-It’s nearly done Joey.”

Joey smiled and kisses the crest of Sammy’s neck. Sammy closes his eyes and wished he wouldn’t. He wasn’t in the mood for this, but he wouldn’t tell him no. “Good.” Joey smirked after he moved on. “Now go get ready. Cover up those Bruises. Wouldn’t want my friends to question things.” Joey told him as he ran his thumb access the bruise on Sammy’s cheek.

Sammy nodded obediently before heading to the bedroom to change. It was extremely painful to bare, pulling off his dirty shirt but he went slowly to ease the pain. He didn’t stop to observe any of the bruises on his stomach or sides. He didn’t want to see how badly they are. As he slipped into a long sleeve nice button up shirt he herd Joey greet some guess that just arrived. He knew now he had to hurry before Joey looked bad. He went as fast as his ribs let him changing into black suit pants and wrapping a belt around them so they would stay up. He had lost a lot of weight do to stress from Joey and not having time or will to eat. Sammy buckled the hook then headed to the bathroom. He looked at his face in the mirror at the bruise around his eye and the one on his cheek. The one his cheek was a sickly greenish-yellow color that covered his whole left cheek. The one around his eye was a deep purple one that almost connected with the one on his cheek. Sammy stared at them for a while before a knock on the door startled him back to his Reality.

“Sammy. Are you almost ready, dear?” Joey ask in a warning voice Sammy knew all to well, and scares him. “Guess are starting to show and we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

“I’m c-coming Joey. I-I’ll be there in a minute.” Sammy replied. Great the night just started and he was already fucking up.

“Alright. Hurry up though, love” Joey told him with the same warning in his voice then walked away.

Sammy hands were started to sweat from the fear of what would happen to him after. He needed to be on his best behavior for the rest of the night so Joey wouldn’t hurt him again. He quickly pulled out the blush make up and started to smear it on his bruises and blending it with his skin until it was all covered up neatly. Sammy glances at himself in the mirror before approving the make up and leaving the bathroom, heading for the living room.

Lacie, Burtrum, Tom and Alison was the ones that arrived a few minutes before. Alison was putting some gifts under the Christmas tree while Tom and Burtrum was in a Conversation, Lacie watching then and listening. Sammy didn’t feel like getting into there Conversation though or any at the moment. He decided to head back into the kitchen where joey must be getting things ready. But he wasn’t.

Sammy stepped into the kitchen then comes to a halt by what he saw. Joey had his arms around Susie and was flirting with her. Sammy watched as Joey whispered something in her ear then nibbled it as she giggled. Sammy left the doorway quickly so neither of them would see him. He hid in the to keep people from seeing how hurt he was by this. This hurt him so much more then the beatings he had received by Joey. He felt betrayed by the the only person he thought loved him. His heart felt like it was being ripped into pieces.

He herd another knock coming from the door, meaning more people he had to lie to and more people he had to pretend everything was good in his life. He wished he could disappear from all this. He wished so badly Joey would just beat him to death.

As the night went on the rest of the employees arrived with there families. Sammy hasn’t had the time to talk much to anyone one. Not that he wanted to anyways. He was finishing up the last bits of the food and cleaning. At around 8pm everything was finished and Sammy started to set the table. Norman Polk decided to

Go in to help Sammy with the table while Joey is in the living room getting drunk and flirting with Susie.

Norman walked into the kitchen to

Sammy trying to balance the Turkey, the vegetables plate and the plates in his hands. “Here sam. Let me help you with that.” He kindly offered, reaching for the plates.

Sammy shakes his head. “N-no. I got it.” Sammy told him but he doesn’t. The Turkey slipped out of his hands, onto the floor making a big glass braking from the plate into the pile of Turkey.

Norman saw the mans tired eyes quickly go wide in fear in Seconds and before Norman could say anything he herd a drunken. “GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!” From the living room.

Joey stumbled into the kitchen with rage in his eyes and looked at this mess on the ground then turned to Sammy who was now cowering in the corner. “YOU!!” He pointed at Sammy. “YOU -hic- FUCKING RUIN -hic-CHRISTMAS!!” He approached Sammy, threatening ready to swing at the poor man.

“Hey stop it!!!” Norman Said, getting in between of Sammy and Joey.

Seeing Norman standing there made Joey snap back into Reality some. He realized what he was doing in front of the guest and insanely regretted drinking. He looked behind him at his friends who were all watching him with horror on there faces. A few had there phones out recording him. He turned back around to Norman still protecting Sammy

Norman had seen enough just now to suspect this wasn’t the first time this happened. “Is this how you treat him Joey?.. like shit?...”

Joey rolls his eyes. “What? How dare you ask my that!” Joey replied. “I would never hurt Sammy! I love him!” Joey glanced at Sammy making eye contact. “Right tater tot? You know I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Sammy glances away from Joey’s eyes, hugging himself. Joey was going to beat him tonight again for all this. Making this mess and the guess witnessing joeys anger. There was no doubt in Sammy’s mind which made him sob hard and shake me.

“Tom, henry. Get Joey out of here please.”

Norman asked them two. Tom and Henry had to almost drag the drunken Joey out of there, screaming his head off about how this was his house and how Sammy was his boyfriend.

Once Joey was gone, Norman knelt down by the shaking Sammy, calmly. “Hey Sammy he’s gone now. Can you answer a few questions for me? I need to know the truth Alright?” Norman asked. Sammy gave him a small nod in reply. “Alright.” Norman asked. “Was this the first time he got angry?”

Sammy shook his head no. “N-no..” he said in a fearful voice.

The sight of this once care free man now shaking and crying out of fear made Norman’s heart hurt for him. He didn’t want to ask Sammy this next question but he had to know. “Does he hurt you Sammy?”

Sammy took a while to answer this question but he eventually nodded then lowered his head in a pathetic kinda way.

Norman gets angrily at Joey and wanted to get his hands on him but he kept his face and voice cool and calm while talking to Sammy. “When’s the last time he hurt you, bud?”

“Y-yesterday...” Sammy replied after a minute then wipes his tears away, smearing the make up. Norman noticed the make up

right away but decided wait for a safer time. Someone had called the police and they were here now.

——-

It was nearly midnight before Norman pulled into his apartment parking spot. The night was crazy with the police arresting Joey after he tried to make a run for it and the investigations with the police. He killed the Engine then turned to Sammy. “I’ll grab your bags, alright bud?” Sammy didn’t looked at him but he nodded, knowing his ribs couldn’t handle picking his bags up. Together they got out of the car and went into Norman’s Apartment.

#bendy and the ink machine #sammy lawrence #joey drew #norman polk #susie campbell

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foxthefanboi · 3 years

Text

Caretaker

Summary: Kevin is sick, and Sam is determined to take care of him until he's better. Kevin's too sleepy to keep his subconscious in check, and he accidentally reveals that he has a crush on Sam.

Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Sam Winchester, Kevin Tran, Dean Winchester Pairing: Sam Winchester/Kevin Tran Word Count: 3,050 Rating: Teen and up AO3: Link

It’s just past two A.M. When they pull back into the bunker’s garage, Sam and Dean in the front seat, Kevin asleep in the back.

“Hey Kev, we’re back,” Sam calls over his shoulder as he climbs out of the car.

Silence. Kevin’s still fast asleep.

Sam opens the back door and shakes Kevin’s shoulder. Nothing. “Kevin?” He straightens up and looks at Dean.

“Dude’s been awake for three straight days,” Dean says with a shrug. “Can’t blame him for not wanting to wake up.”

“Well, do we just leave him here?” Sam asks.

“I don’t know, do you want to try smelling salts? Or, carry him inside and put him to bed like a toddler?”

Dean’s joking but Sam frowns, thinking about it. Kevin really does deserve better than being left in the bunker’s garage overnight.

He bends down again and shakes Kevin, a little stronger this time. “Okay, Kevin, I’m going to pick you up.” No response, so Sam scoops him up and carries him princess style. Sam’s got nine inches and about fifty pounds of muscle on him, so Kevin’s slim weight feels like nothing.

“I see we’re taking the sleepy toddler route,” Dean says as he holds open the bunker’s door for Sam.

Kevin’s eyes slowly blink open just around the time Sam reaches Kevin’s room. “My prince charming,” he sighs, before drifting off again.

Sam laughs softly as he sets Kevin down on his bed and drapes a blanket over him.

“Sammy?” Kevin murmurs, eyes still closed.

“Yeah,” Sam says, already turned towards the door.

“Goodnight kiss?”

Sam smiles. Poor kid. He bends down and presses a kiss to the top of Kevin’s head.

“No, no, no,” Kevin says groggily, rolling over slightly. “Real kiss, Sam.” His hand slides to the back of Sam’s neck and he tugs him down slightly until their lips meet. It’s just a quick kiss, half a second long before Kevin dozes off again, but Sam takes in a sharp breath and backs up quickly to the door.

He lets himself out and leans against the closed door. What was that?

—

Sam hasn’t seen Kevin in a full twenty-four hours. When Kevin sleeps, it’s usually for two hours or twenty hours with no in between, so it’s not entirely unusual, but Sam goes to check on him anyway.

He knocks on Kevin’s bedroom door.

“Yeah?” comes a hoarse voice from the other side.

Sam opens the door a crack and peeks his head in.

Kevin’s lying in bed covered in sweat, looking paler than usual with dark circles under his eyes.

“Whoa, man, are you okay?” Sam asks.

“I thingk I’m sick,” Kevin says, his voice coming out stuffy.

Sam walks over to the bed and lays a hand on Kevin’s forehead. It’s burning. “Hold on.” Sam gets a thermometer and comes back. “Open,” Sam says, and Kevin opens his mouth. Sam puts the thermometer under Kevin’s tongue, waits a moment, and then takes it out. 102 degrees. “Jesus, Kevin. You need to take better care of yourself.”

“There’s no time,” he says. “You can bring the tablet here. I don’t think I can get out of bed, but I can work in my room.”

Sam cracks an incredulous smile. “Dude, you’re taking a day off. Seriously.”

“No, I can—“ Kevin is interrupted by a fit of coughing.

“Stay here,” Sam says. “I’m going to get you some soup.”

It’s amazing Kevin doesn’t get sick more often, considering his complete lack of self-care, Sam thinks as he prepares a bowl of canned chicken noodle soup and some tea.

“What’s up?” Dean asks as he passes through the kitchen to grab a beer.

“Kevin’s sick,” Sam says.

“Of course he is.”

“102-degree fever.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Damn. Poor kid.”

“He’s been working too hard.”

“We all have.”

Sam shrugs. It’s true, but at least Sam and Dean are used to it. Just a couple of years ago, Kevin was just an advanced placement student preparing for college. Now, he’s lost his mom, his girlfriend, and all hopes of having a normal life, and a huge responsibility rests on his shoulders.

Sam is carrying the bowl of soup and a steaming mug of tea through the library towards Kevin’s room when he stops short. Kevin is sitting at the library table, staring blearily at the tablet.

“Uh-uh,” Sam says, setting down the bowl and mug. “I told you to take the day off. Back to bed.”

“But—“ Kevin says.

“Come on.” Sam helps Kevin to his feet. He stumbles a little bit. How did he even get from his room to here? Sam frowns but he doesn’t have much of a choice. He scoops Kevin up into his arms like he’d done the night before and carries him back to Kevin’s room.

“Hey!” Kevin protests weakly, but after a moment he rests his head against Sam’s chest. “I don’t need you to do this, you know.”

“Sure.”

Sam deposits Kevin back on the bed and points at him with a commanding finger. “Stay.”

“Okay,” Kevin says, rolling his eyes.

Sam comes back a minute later with the soup and tea and a few bottles of medicine tucked under his arm. He sets it all down. He opens the bottle of Dayquil and is about to pour some into the small cup, but Kevin takes the bottle from his hand and swallows a couple of swigs directly out of the bottle. He makes a face. “Gross. Now food. Gimme.”

Sam passes over the bowl of soup, and Kevin sips at it.

“Good?”

Kevin winces a little. “Hurts my throat. But good.”

Sam pulls over a chair and plops down into it, swinging his feet up to rest on the bed.

“What’re you doing?” Kevin asks.

“Staying here to keep an eye on you.”

“What? No.”

“I don’t want our number one prophet to die.”

“Don’t be dramatic. If I’m gonna die, it’s gonna be from a demon.”

“We’re not gonna let that happen either,” Sam says. He picks up the TV remote from the nightstand. Kevin’s got one in his room too—pretty small, but big enough to watch from bed. “TV or sleep?” Sam asks.

“TV, I guess.”

“Your choice.”

Kevin thinks about it for a minute. “Friends.”

“Friends?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised.

Kevin scowls at him. “It’s a good comfort show. You don’t have to stay.”

“Alright. Sure. Friends.” Sam puts it on Netflix and they sit silently as the opening credits come on, both of them quiet except for the sound of Kevin slurping his stew.

A few minutes pass before Kevin sets down his bowl on the nightstand and pushes it away.

“You didn’t finish,” Sam says. He notices Kevin shivering and frowns. “You okay?”

“Just… cold.”

Sam grabs a blanket from the shelf and drapes it over Kevin. “Better?”

“N-not really.”

Sam’s not really thinking when he crawls onto the bed next to Kevin and wraps an arm around him, and by the time he’s done it, he immediately regrets it. He wanted to make Kevin feel better but now he’s just made it weird.

“Sam?” Kevin says, sounding a little freaked out.

“It was just a way to warm you up,” Sam says, starting to withdraw his arm.

Kevin leans back against Sam’s arm, pinning it. “No, it’s okay. I just don’t want to get you sick.”

Sam laughs lightly. “Trust me, you won’t get me sick.” Sam hasn’t been sick in years—at least, not with anything that wasn’t supernaturally induced. Healthy diet and exercise pay off.

“Okay,” Kevin says, and he snuggles in closer to Sam.

He stops shivering within a couple of minutes, and his breathing starts to go steady. Sam looks down to see Kevin asleep against him and smiles, feeling something flutter in his chest. Kid deserves a break.

He considers leaving, letting Kevin rest by himself but—Kevin seems comfortable here. And Sam is comfortable, too. No reason to move, right?

Dean passes by the door during the third episode of Friends, and then immediately backs up to stare into the room.

“Do I want to know what’s going on here?” he asks at the sight of Sam, his arm wrapped around a sleeping Kevin.

“He was cold,” Sam says defensively.

“And you decided this was the best way to warm him up?”

Sam feels heat rise to his cheeks. Kevin didn’t seem to mind, and it worked, but it’s still weird. Kevin’s not a pretty girl Sam’s trying to make a move on. Kevin is… well, Kevin.

“Keep it PG,” Dean says, before moving on, and Sam rolls his eyes. As if.

—

Kevin returns to consciousness feeling much better. No more too hot or too cold, no more aches and pains—well, no more than usual. He blinks his eyes open slowly, his room dark except for the dull light from the hallway.

He rolls onto his side. Hm. His pillow doesn’t feel quite… Oh, it’s an arm. Sam’s facing him, asleep on his side next to Kevin on the bed. Kevin must still be asleep, or asleep enough. This is a dream he’s had before, at least. He rests a hand on the side of Sam’s face—the way he’s done before, in his dreams—and runs his thumb idly along Sam’s cheekbone.

He dozes off, his hand still resting on Sam. As he drifts away, he can’t help but feel like this is different, more real somehow, and…

It comes back to him, Sam taking care of him the day before, sitting right next to him to keep him warm while he shivered from the fever. Kevin’s eyes fly open as he pulls his hand back like it’s been burned.

Sam’s eyes are open now and looking at Kevin, expressionless.

“Oh, god,” Kevin says. He’d seriously done that. He’d seriously caressed Sam’s face. His subconscious had finally done it, finally betrayed him.

He rolls away from Sam, a little too far because he goes right over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. “Fuck,” he says as he hits the concrete floor. That’s going to leave bruises. He jumps up to his feet right away, though. Because… Sam.

“Sorry,” Kevin says, holding up his hands apologetically.

“Kevin, wait,” Sam says, sitting up.

But Kevin’s too tired and stressed to deal with this right now. “Sorry,” he says again, and bolts out the door.

—

Kevin successfully avoids Sam the next day, but it’s hard to do when they live in the same bunker. It’s by the end of day two that Kevin runs into Sam in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam says when he sees Kevin, totally casually from his spot at the table. “Dean’s gone into town to pick up some groceries, if you want to text him anything you need.”

“Uh-huh.” Maybe it was a dream, the other night. Sam doesn’t seem to be affected at all by the awkwardness that’s filling Kevin. So it must be one-sided right?

Kevin goes to grab a frozen burrito from the fridge.

Sam takes a deep breath. “So—“ he starts, and Kevin freezes. “Should we talk about the other night?”

Kevin laughs nervously, cautiously continuing to prepare his frozen burrito. “What happened the other night?”

“Well,” Sam says, considering it for a moment. “I dozed off in your bed. Because you were sick and I was keeping you company. Of course.”

“Of course,” Kevin supplies.

“And then we both woke up in the middle of the night,” Sam says, a little slower. Kevin feels Sam looking at him but he’s steadfastly avoiding looking back. He presses the start button on the microwave and watches the burrito spin around in the microwave instead of facing Sam. “And then…” Another deep breath. “You left before I could say anything.”

Sam’s being evasive—intentionally evasive, not because he forgot, Kevin’s sure—but Kevin skips right to the point. Eyes still focused on the dimly lit microwave, he says, “It was just an accident. I was sick, so I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, but it’s obvious it’s not the end of the conversation. “There was another time.”

What? Kevin turns around in surprise. “Another time,” he states.

“Remember when you slept the whole way back from Minnesota?”

“Yeah,” Kevin says, and he feels dread in the pit of his stomach. Yeah, that was the time he’d fallen asleep in the back seat of the Impala and woken up in his own bed. He’d just figured he’d stumbled there himself and forgot about it, but…

“You were sleeping,” Sam says, in a slightly defensive tone. “And I didn’t want to wake you up. So I carried you to your room.”

“Oh,” Kevin says. “Okay.” So maybe this wasn’t so bad. Sort of weird, but not by him.

“And you kissed me.”

The microwave beeps and Kevin turns back around to turn it off, relieved to have an excuse to hide his rapidly reddening face.

“Kevin.”

“It was just an accident,” Kevin says.

“We can talk about it, if you want,” Sam says.

Kevin faces Sam, sees the compassionate look on his face—maybe, pity? That some pathetic kid wants to be with someone way out of his league? “Look,” Kevin says. “Yeah, I have a crush on you. Like, a super far-fetched, unrealistic crush on you, but it doesn’t mean anything, okay?” He crosses his arms defensively. “I’ll just keep my subconscious in check from now on and you won’t have to worry about me being weird. Okay?”

Sam stands up from the table and approaches where Kevin is leaning against the counter, stopping a little too close in front of him. Kevin swallows and has to look up to see Sam’s face. Sam’s got nine inches on Kevin, but the height difference has never seemed so intimidating before.

“A crush, huh?” Sam asks, and a corner of his mouth turns up.

He rests his hands on the counter on either side of Kevin. Kevin’s heart pounds hard in his chest. Is this really happening?

But then Sam frowns. “How old are you? Twenty?”

It takes Kevin a moment to think of his age—birthdays haven’t been important to him the past few years, so it’s been hard to keep track. “Twenty-one,” he says after a moment.

Sam lets out a long exhale, doubt clouding his features. “God.”

Kevin is so close, he thinks, at least. Maybe this isn’t real, but… “I’m old enough to make my own decisions,” he says firmly, his eyes meeting Sam’s unflinchingly. “I’ve been through enough, I think I get that at least.”

Sam searches Kevin’s eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, you do.” And then Sam leans down and his lips are on Kevin’s and Kevin inhales sharply against Sam’s mouth in surprise but his thoughts are crowded with self-consciousness—he brushed his teeth today, didn’t he? Is he kissing okay? He hasn’t kissed anyone since Channing, and he knows he hadn’t been good at it with her. So maybe suave, experienced Sam is finding out he’d made a mistake in kissing inexperienced, awkward Kevin.

Sam pulls back. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, but I just… You’re you. I’m me,” Kevin says.

Sam frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Sam Winchester,” Kevin says, gesturing at Sam. “Legendary hunter. Savior of the world. A perfect ten.” He points to himself. “The guy you only keep around because he can translate God’s word. Almost a total nobody. Uh,” he hesitates before adding, “Virgin. And maybe a five on a good day.”

“Are you serious?” Sam asks. “Kevin…” Sam sighs. “We care about you. I care about you. And you’re too hard on yourself.” Sam brings up a hand to rest on the side of Kevin’s neck. “Just relax, okay?”

Kevin stares at Sam for a moment before giving a slight nod. He’s not sure he can but Sam kisses him again, but Kevin’s back in his head still, and then Sam murmurs “relax” against his lips and so finally, finally he does, letting go of the doubt and self-consciousness and just kissing Sam.

It feels good. Kevin’s been touch-deprived for years, ever since he became a prophet and gave up having a life for reading ancient tablets. And now he has Sam’s soft lips on his, Sam’s calloused but gentle hand against his skin, the warmth radiating off of Sam onto him. It feels good.

“Hey,” Sam says, pulling away for a moment. “Dean won’t be home for at least another hour.”

“And...?”

Sam laughs and hangs his head slightly. “Never mind.”

“Never mind?” Kevin asks, confused, and then it hits him. “Oh. Oh. You want to…”

Sam draws his eyebrows together. “Do you want to?”

“Yes,” he says, a little too enthusiastically. “I mean, I never have before, but yes.”

“Okay,” Sam says.

“Hey,” Kevin says.

“Yeah?”

He hesitates, thinking back to how Sam had carried him to his room a couple of days ago and how hot it had been to feel Sam’s strength up close. “Can you carry me again?”

Sam grins and picks Kevin up, and Kevin wraps his arms around Sam’s shoulders. “You like this?”

Kevin nods, feeling breathless. “Yeah.”

When they reach Sam’s room, Sam lays Kevin down on the bed before crawling to hover over him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the corner of Kevin’s mouth. He pulls back and meets Kevin’s eyes, a sudden hesitance in them. “You’ve never…?”

“Please,” Kevin says, and he wraps his legs around Sam’s waist pulling him closer. Sam’s hardness presses against Kevin’s through the fabric separating them. Kevin doesn’t know what happens next, but he wants more, he wants Sam.

“Okay,” Sam says. “But tell me what you need, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”

Kevin doubts anything would be too much, but he nods, and Sam kisses him again.

—

When Dean gets back an hour later, Sam and Kevin are sitting in the library, both of them with their hair wet from recent showers and idly flipping through lore books.

“Hey,” Dean says coming into the library. He looks back and forth between the two of them. Something has changed. Sam and Kevin exchange a glance and smile at each other, and Dean frowns. “Did I miss something?”

#I found this in my 'hot garbage' folder #I wrote it during my sevin phase but threw it out bc it didn't have enough plot #anyway I liked it when I reread it so I thought I'd post it #sevin #sevin fic #Supernatural #one shot #fanfic #spn fanfic #ship fic #foxfics #sam winchester/kevin tran #sam fic #kevin fic #3pov #length: really long

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savage-rhi · 4 years

Text

DS: Rewind Ch. 31

I hope that you're staying safe and hanging in there during these tough times. Thank you for reading and continuing to support this work. You have my love and appreciation <3.

Higgs stared down at his golden mask, his gloved fingers gently carding over the small details and intricate dents scattered across the item. He was lost in his thoughts, that not even the waves on the beach wetting his clothes on the shore distracted him. Higgs didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, but when Amelie approached, he didn’t give the courtesy of acknowledging her. He was so caught up in his own mind, that when she crouched down and patted his shoulder, Higgs jumped.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. Higgs, it’s almost time.” Amelie said gently, trying to coax Higgs out of his shell.

“What’s the fucking point?” Higgs asked as Amelie furrowed her brows, shaking her head.

“Higgs, I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know damn well what I mean.” Higgs finally looked up at her and brought himself up. He held onto his mask so tight that if his anger alone could have broken it, the mask would have shattered.

“My men have been obliterated. I’ve encountered Sam several times now, and you have yet to let me sick him, and on top of it--I can’t help but notice it’s almost as if you want him to succeed.”

Amelie sighed, shaking her head. “Higgs, it’s like I explained, when Sam gets the Chiral Network up and running, everyone’s beach will be connected. It will help my powers, and it will allow me to destroy everything in one go. You have to be patient. It wasn’t my fault Homo Demens failed. You were the leader.”

Higgs growled as Amelie held herself in high regard. She wasn’t going to let Higgs belittle her for his mistakes. As far as she was concerned, Amelie gave Higgs power and he had misused it instead of thinking ahead like she had told him many times. She watched as Higgs began to pace around, rubbing the back of his neck from time to time.

“I didn’t anticipate Gene sweeping in and fucking things up. Neither did I think Fragile and Sammy boy were gonna team to kick my ass. Everything’s falling apart.” Higgs said sadly, shaking his head as he let out a deep sigh he had been holding onto for a long while.

“A leader--a god knows when to take the credit when things go good, and the blame for when they are bad. Higgs, it’s alright. You’re acknowledging what you lost sight of. I admit I was blindsided when it came to Gene’s interference. I should have taken into account how dangerous she was becoming, consorting with the Death Walkers. They were never a threat and kept to themselves, but she’s taken it a step farther.”

Higgs made a face, biting his bottom lip as his eyes grew more saddened by the second upon Amelie mentioning Gene’s name. His memories were a fog, but Higgs recalled Gene trying to pull him out of the sea, into his own beach before Amelie had chased her away. There was something profound about the experience in that he felt so little, but also one again with--something. Higgs couldn’t wrap himself around the concept. Maybe if he got to the surface with her, maybe he would have gotten an answer. Either way, Gene's powers scared him though he wouldn't allow himself the courtesy of such despicable weakness.

“What did she do to me?” Higgs murmured as Amelie approached, cupping Higgs’s face. He barely peered up at Amelie as tears stroked down his face, smudging the bit of makeup he had on his eyes.

“Does it matter?” Amelie asked sincerely.

“To me, it does. She--tried uprooting me, from where I felt safe.” Higgs muttered, the defeat in his voice tugging at Amelie as she shook her head. She couldn’t allow Higgs to focus on this, not when they were getting close to the finish line.

“If you must know, all she was doing, all she was attempting at, was taking you from here. Higgs, Gene was trying to sever our connection. She was going to take your powers away.”

Higgs looked up, glaring as he shook his head.

“No, she cannot do that. Not when I have so much to finish.”

The anger in his voice made Amelie smile sincerely for once. Relief captured her breath as she nodded, agreeing with Higgs in full. Whatever she could do to pacify him for the time being, Amelie was going to take advantage of it.

“You’re absolutely right, Higgs. That’s why I have a plan.” Amelie said, watching as Higgs’s facial features eased up. He was curious, tilting his head to the side as Amelie stepped back and held out her hands, conjuring up a golden knife. The base black as BT’s themselves. Higgs hesitated, but eventually took hold of the weapon and studied it carefully. His brows furrowed out of confusion.

“This--looks like my old one.” Higgs muttered as Amelie nodded.

“It’s special. The gold is made out of the same material that went into your mask, that gave you power. This is more concentrated. I based it on the cufflinks Sam received from that woman, Mama. When Sam uses the knife against BTs, he sends them back to the afterlife. This however, will level the playing field with you and Gene should she get in the way again.”

“This won’t kill her, will it?” Higgs asked, shooting a glare towards Amelie as she shook her head.

“No, but it will give her the idea to back down. It’ll make her too weak to use her Ka against you.”

“Good.” Higgs said with a huff, then replaced said knife with his old one, discarding the former into the sands without care. The tool was disposable much like the people he had come across and led to ruin.

“Walk with me, Higgs. Let’s go over the plans again.” Amelie said, smiling at him as Higgs joined alongside. They both walked the shoreline of the beach in silence for the first while, letting nerves and emotions filter away. A certain air of peace resided in Higgs, despite his body feeling a weight on it. Even with his powers, on the beach, he felt hindered in a way. Higgs nonetheless chalked it up to being human unlike Amelie, who merely dressed herself as one.

“We spooked Sam with the dream you conjured up, where I took that pretty necklace of yours.” Higgs started as Amelie nodded.

“I ambushed him with the BT cat, while he delivered that woman to Mountain Knot--pushed Sammy boy that much closer out West. I'll face him down in Edge Knot City after I blow up what remains of the people there, and kill the poor bastard once and for all.”

“No, before you encounter Sam out on the boundary line of Edge Knot City, you need to take care of Fragile.”

Higgs tensed as he glared, letting out a disgruntled huff. “What of her?”

Amelie sighed, picking up a stranded shell below the sands by her feet. Higgs watched as she carefully played around with it, her fingers circling over the shape with utmost care. An odd thing for an Extinction Entity to do, hold onto something so fragile all the while knowing one could easily crush it.

“Much like Gene, she’s in the way. Though she’s not necessarily going to be a problem for you, but for Sam. Their bond--I fear even though she inadvertently is helping Sam head towards West, she’s going to mess things up. Turn Sam against me before you and I can usher the final extinction. I can feel it.”

Higgs chuckled amusingly. “Sounds like someone is jealous.”

“Regardless,” Amelie chose to ignore Higgs’s remark, and he watched as Amelie crushed the shell between her fingers, scattering the remains into the sand like it was nothing. He could only imagine what it was going to feel like when Amelie would chart the course of the Final Stranding. A vibe of dread and ease went down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention the longer he thought on it. Excitement overtook his aura.

“Having Fragile walk through Timefall wasn’t enough to deter her from interference. Something more permanent needs to be done. That is what I’m charging you with, Higgs. You have my full permission and support to do whatever is necessary to make sure she is off the board.” Amelie said firmly. She came to a halt, staring directly up at Higgs. There was a moment of hesitation in his eyes that Amelie caught onto and before any words could escape his lips, she interrupted.

“Is the particle of god having second thoughts?” Amelie questioned, sounding suspicious in tone as Higgs shook his head. His persona taking on a playful stance as he let out a laugh.

“Far from it. Don’t worry darlin’, I’ll take good care of her for ya. Just like we planned.” Higgs said, resting both hands on Amelie’s shoulders and giving a pat. It was affectionate, almost too much for her liking but she went along and smiled. Whatever kept Higgs happy for the time being, Amelie went along with it.

“It’ll give me a chance to test out the knife you conjured. I’m very much looking forward to burying the hatchet with Fragile in a manner of speaking. She was always a nuisance. Bitch always thought she was better than me.” Higgs chuckled, then took a few steps back. He placed the mask over his face and got ready to jump.

“Higgs,”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fail me. Not on this one.”

Higgs paused, thinking on Amelie's words for a moment before he smirked underneath the mask and jumped back to the world of the living.

Gene was at the mouth of the cave on the cliff, nearby a small fire Walkers had made for her. A blanket wrapped securely over her body. Now that Gene's Ka settled back into her Ha, some of the damage to her body had receded but she looked like a fifty-five year old woman now, with strands of gray tattered throughout her hair, and wrinkles creating crevices like the moon into her flesh.

Gene felt unsteady than before, even with all the training Pride had her undergo to beef up her body for her powers, there were new points of weakness she had to adjust with. Gene felt colder than usual for starters. It was hard to sleep without feeling like she was being entombed by ice in her blood.

“How are you holding up?”

Gene turned her head, seeing Fragile had appeared after jumping to the Death Walker's location. Gene smiled up at her, giving a shrug.

“Nice to see you. I feel like an old hag, look like one too.”

Fragile chuckled, shaking her head as she sat down by the fire, stretching her legs while letting out a content sigh. She was happy to catch a break from all the work being done alongside Sam and the UCA.

“Makes two of us. At least, from the neck down for me.”

“Lucky bitch.” Gene chuckled, surprised as Fragile joined her in laughing.

Fragile unclipped a small jar from her belt that had a dozen cryptobiotes inside, squirming about. The little pudgy pink blobs chittered around. She uncapped the jar cautiously, pulling a few out before they could escape into the air. Fragile was quick to shove the first few in her mouth, then gathered four in her hand, making a fist so they wouldn’t escape, and handed them over to Gene.

“Do you want them?” Fragile asked. “The taste isn’t so bad when you get used to it.”

“I’ll try anything once,” Gene said with a smirk, grabbing a hold of the bug-like creatures and popped them one by one into her mouth. The texture was weird. Half of their bodies felt crunchy, like bits of chocolate scattered about a piece of cake, while there was a moist texture that made her tongue feel weird. Gene couldn’t help but make a face, feeling goosebumps trail over her arms. Nonetheless, the metallic taste was rather pleasant.

“Seems like someone’s enjoying themselves.” Fragile grinned as Gene shook her head, swallowing the bits and letting the blood flow down her throat.

“It’s kind of messed up. I think these little guys are rather cute.” Gene said, furrowing her brows sadly as she looked at the jar, seeing the other cryptobiotes looking up at her. She felt guilty. It couldn’t be helped.

Fragile activated a button, a dark shield covering the glass of the jar as she shrugged.

“They keep the Timefall at bay according to Heartman. I figured they’d do the same for you, more or less.”

“Speaking of him, did you send Heartman the information Pride and the clan allowed you to take?” Gene asked.

“About the prehistory, the cave paintings, and the Neanderthal EE? Yeah. You should have been there, Gene. Heartman was so excited, he couldn’t stop talking. I was held up for almost two hours. Don’t worry, the Death Walkers and this location haven’t been disclosed. I made sure of it.” Fragile said, smiling proudly as Gene let out a sigh of relief.

“Good. Pride and the clan all want to help scientists understand the Death Stranding, but they don’t want to be lab rats for the UCA. I can’t blame them. I’m on the same boat now.” Gene said with relief, her mind briefly pondering the what-ifs of that particular situation. Luckily, she knew she could count on Fragile to keep things under lock and key.

“Higgs is now the most wanted in the cities. The UCA has a price on his head. I learned that after joining them to help Sam on his mission to hook up the Chiral Network.” Fragile said, changing the subject as Gene clutched more onto the blanket. Her body adjusted, trying to get closer to the fire without burning herself. Fragile could see the unease in Gene’s body language and swallowed.

“What’s he been up to since blowing up the Capitol?” Gene asked, curiously looking towards Fragile’s direction.

Fragile let out a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. She wasn’t sure where to begin. So much time had passed between then and now.

“Higgs posed as a member of Bridges, nearly got Sam and me into deep shit. Almost blew up another city, but Sam helped me toss the nuke into the tar pits. That was long after your fight. I tried tailing Higgs afterward, but--he went under the radar. I couldn’t follow him to the beach. From what I gather, he’s been there mostly save for the few times he’s come out to cause havoc in the smaller communities. I think he’s running solo, now that Homo Demens has been taken out. Whatever it is you did to him, he hasn’t been as bold since the fight in Central Knot.”

Gene tossed a few more sticks into the fire, both she and Fragile watching the flames come more to life. The reds and oranges danced in front of their eyes while they basked in the warmth. It made the cool air up in the high altitude more bearable.

“Does Sam know about me, about this whole ordeal?” Gene asked.

“No, no one does. I promised you I’d keep the Death Walkers and you a secret. Sam knows about the situation in full when it comes to Higgs, my half of it at least.” Fragile paused for a moment, her gaze falling over Gene as she studied her.

“I asked Sam to keep Higgs alive for me, should he face and take him down.”

Gene’s head shot up, surprise lit her eyes as Fragile gave a modest shrug.

“It’s not a guarantee Higgs will survive long enough for you to do anything, but--I thought about you when I asked Sam to help me with him.”

“Thank you,” Gene said sincerely, reaching a hand out and clasping it over Fragile’s gloved hand that was on the ground. Fragile glanced between their hands and Gene’s face, offering a small nod in return. She gently grasped Gene’s fingers before letting go.

“Gene, I wanted to ask you something. What did you do to Higgs back in Central Knot? I never got the chance to ask.”

Gene let out a puff of air, blinking a few times as she tried to retrace her steps. Remembering the battle wasn’t hard, but when she dived into Higgs, the memories were a blur. Like pieces of an intricate puzzle she had to put back together by memorization alone.

“Pride and the Walkers call it ‘diving’. It’s where you enter someone’s beach through their Ka, their soul. That bit of humanity I told you that was still in Higgs, I tried to pull it out. You can say that Higgs is literally drowning in his own personal hell. Pride mentioned that people who worked with powerful BTs were generally locked away in their beach while the BT controls their Ha. You know the stories of exorcisms in ancient traditions throughout cultures? Pride said a lot of that was inspired by this ability, the same with possession from the dead. I was close--if I had more time, I could have yanked him out of the ocean. Whatever powers the EE gave to Higgs, he’s so bonded to it that even that--woman, was able to kick me out, the EE.”

Gene could feel anger rise at that last part. Half of her jealous, the other upset with herself that she was too weak to save Higgs back then. Gene had plenty of time to train since the first fight and felt some of her confidence radiate in mind. Next time, like she promised Pride and Fragile, next time she’d succeed.

Fragile was about to say something when a buzzing noise came from her communication device. Furrowing her brows, she looked over at Gene apologetically.

“I’m sorry for the interruption, but that’s my cue. I need to make way to one of the small communities Sam recently connected, see if we can get more crew onto Fragile Express now that the company's reputation is starting to return.” Fragile got up and took out her umbrella, not before resting her hand on Gene’s shoulder. Gene looked up at Fragile with a sincere smile, as Fragile returned the favor.

“Rest and keep training. Don’t worry about things for now. Sam and I got it covered.” Fragile reassured.

“If you bump into trouble, you know how to get a hold of me.” Gene reminded her.

“Of course. I’ll see you in a few weeks unless something changes.” Fragile said, stepping away from Gene’s general area, giving a faint twist of the umbrella handle and jumped.

Now alone for now until Pride returned from a hunt, Gene took in a deep breath and closed her eyes after consuming a small amount of the ocasus plant that was in a cup by her side. After smacking her lips, face twitching from the tart taste, she put her mask on.

It wasn’t enough to send her Ka out of her Ha, but Gene could feel the different planes of existence, sensing how close things were if she concentrated hard enough. In a way, it was Gene's only method of keeping tabs on everything since she was so far from the action. Like Pride, she could mentally venture out far beyond the mountains and see the whole scope of America, able to zoom and hone in on a spot like a computer.

As Gene walked between this plane and the next above it, she tried to feel for Higgs. Back in her body, tears escaped her closed eyes as she felt desperate to reach him again.

Tagging: @deathstrandjng @evillpasta @kusooi @justfanjunk @lucyfer-thorn @septicteara12 @bl00dypalace @apocalyptic-demen @forksoffortune @starivaille @argetlam007