#'the last three librarians were eaten by the romance section'

[elsewhereuniversity]

Librarians: Miss Whiskers

Library is place where odd things gather. Things that are strange and magical and definitely shouldn’t be allowed outside for risk of either exposing EU’s  peculiar nature to general public, or shenanigans that will make dozens of groundskeeper’s go gray with stress ( some still go on counseling sessions as result of last time tooth-spitting machine and Jimothy teamed up), which honestly are pretty much same thing. Still some of them manage to be controversial.

One of those oddities is Miss Whiskers, a Deep Librarian hoarding enormous collection of books on bees and horticulture, who works 24/7, 286 days in year ( free days are chosen at random, and nobody knows what she does with them), for free. A dream of every dean with tight purse, and former member of Winter Court.

Miss Whiskers claims to be completely ordinary librarian, no matter what her 29 hands, 4 tails, face of weasel, petticoat of snowflakes and 3 metres long whiskers of brine and ice might point to, alongside her tendency to sit in nest made of stitched blankets and broken glass while eating molten asphalt and reading flying books in arcane languages, which honestly is pretty typical for this Library’s standards. Masters of words and loopholes, these Gentry. Besides, she has glasses and wig, soooo human.

According to rumours, Miss Whiskers was once dreaded and respected general of Winter Court, famous for parties where captured humans had their lungs frozen from inside out  and her palace decorated with immortal butterflies singing Traviatta all the time. Reason for her change of profession is unknown. Idealistic members of student body repeat legend she was switched as changeling and realized her misdeeds and decided to become good person. More realistic ones claim she got in some big conflict with other Gentry and came out on losing side, leading either to exile or need to lay low for next several centuries.

Therefore, Miss Whickers has traveled in caravan for centuries, finding her way through shallows of Elsewhere, making herself in small, unimportant sprite, selling trinkets and charms for smile and hello. Only once or twice did she help some wandering hero for their kindness (because worlds have grown apart, and too few people wandered down beneath hills, and that pained her much) until finally she made her way to Elsewhere.

Unlike most of her kind, who delighted in chance to wreak mischief and trap fools in dangerous debts, Miss Whiskers was only happy to get to know humans again, for it had been far too long, and she didn’t pay them appropriate attention before (which was in hindsight a blessing). No less enthusiastic then most of her peers, but far calmer, she caught job in Library, almost literally chasing it down. According to records, she just appeared one day, and everybody had feeling she always was there. Dean, who was exhausted and overworked, was more then happy to get unpaid librarian, especially after last three got eaten by romance section, even if it might have meant some students had to be Taken.

Fortunately, Miss Whiskers doesn’t do stuff like that. In fact, she seems to actively loathe whole concept, and has been known to threaten changelings, warn pursued Students, offer them sanctuary or advice, use her strained Court connection to help them out, or even charge in Underhill and help with rescue. If asked, she claims no credit and says one who helped storm Summer Duchess’s beach house, fight through kelpie bodyguards and turn three-headed giant in stone was Lady D’ Arvit, who certainly isn’t any relative of hers and isn’t that similar to Miss Whickers in appearance-why, she has trench coat! And synthetic beard!

In her daily life, Miss Whiskers is completely happy to remain hidden from Uninvolved students, avoid all other Gentry (especially Foxy Lady and swamp hag) and never bother humans, unless they question her on placement of particular book on topic of bees or horticulture, as she knows them all far better then library directory, which isn’t that hard as it only accounts for books present in this dimension.

Should you wander in on her, she will be very happy to help you out, whether that includes advice on escaping Wild Hunt, being served tea (from Walmart, but it is rude to complain), led out from Library, even be given some actual human money or love advice (she loves playing matchmaker, almost as much as she loves pointing out that she is still Miss, not Mrs, with suggestive glance of her square-shaped neon green eyes), and only thing she asks for is for you to write down confession you were surprised when she revealed she wasn’t human, no really I would have never guessed! Students she helped tend to find encouraging messages and important reminders written on window in non-melting frost on her off days.

She is on good terms with most of staff  (exceptions being Professor Fives, on account of him being another Gentry and contender for position of Best Human Impersonator, leading to many screaming matches, Professor Meriweather, on account of her knowing his deal, leading to hateful sneers, and Mrs. Burns, on account of having a barest semblance of reason, leading to running in opposite space-time direction of ancient crone whenever they meet), and has been known to intercede on behalf of tired students, by messengers who certainly aren’t ferrets made. For that even Knights respect her and keep away. 

However, she is on bad terms with all Gentry, even Jimothy. Though she is completely nice to humans and Dreamers loyal to any fae for this reason or other, she makes sure she never mentions her schedule to them, for fear they might slip up. In return, many students and even some professors have taken to helping her out with problems, keeping watch with bats with iron nails, having taken on more then one Sidhe knight for her sake. Some of Gentry say all her kindness is ploy to get cult of humans serving her, but not where any of Chemistry Department might hear them.

Some believe Miss Whickers is so benevolent in attempt to atone for her misdeeds ages and ages ago. She refuses to talk about her past, and gets ashamed and teary eyes when it is brought up, stating that she got far less then she deserves, and that no matter how nice she may seem she is monster. Thus, it is believed, she has dedicated herself to helping others, and is even rumored to write pamphlets and books on human nature, ingenuity and other amazing qualities, which aren’t best received among Gentry but are hit among some of Forbidden Major, even if they present quite quirky explanations for human social structure, which actually may not be so wrong, and are rumored to have won several sociology students a full research funding. Still, she remains one of best beloved figures on campus, despite her past. Gentry themselves see her as something between old shame,  bitter enemy and persona, non grata, all but one, individual who is listed as her greatest, if not only flaw.

Why would somebody like her be such good friends with somebody like Rose Prince?

x

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

A View To A Winchester (Part 13)

Series Page

Summary: Julie’s starting a new life after divorce in a home with a very nice view.

A Dean X OFC story. I got this idea staring out the view of my home office window and thinking how nice it would be to have Dean Winchester to ogle.

Section Word Count: 5,200    

Section Content: fluff, flirting,angst, R-rated language

~~~~~

The first time he had caught Julie staring into his backyard, almost three months ago, Van Halen’s “Hot for Teacher” blared in his head. He watched her from his kitchen window, careful to lean out of view so she wouldn’t see him. She was pretty, highlighted in the morning sunshine. Not very tall or short, average height in a pair of flats. He spotted the curves, hiding under dress pants and a cardigan, begging to be seen.

And after a couple weeks of the spying by the hot little librarian, well that was enough to get him to do some digging. Through his research, he found a textbook case of an American female born in the late twentieth century. Giulia Louisa Cuore. Julie to everyone else besides her mom and dad. Born in December of 1981 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to parents who emigrated from Italy.

The little family moved to Wilmington, Delaware when she was a baby. A brother tagged along for the ride four years later. She went to a Catholic elementary school and an all-girls Catholic high school. Dean choked on the beer he was gulping when he’d read that. She was a chubby, awkward kid and teenager, complete with glasses and braces. But damn if she didn’t get better with age as Dean poured through the Internet trail. College followed, nothing spectacular to note, but solid grades. No sports or extracurricular activities to speak of. She got a stable job and then, some years later, she got a ring on it. She became Julie Felton and was married for ten years. The only anomaly, before the divorce, was the lack of kids.

Her life sounded so easy, simple, normal on paper. He knew, of course, nothing was that easy, simple, or normal. But, Julie’s story might have been catalogued in the Women’s Fiction or Romance section of a bookstore. The series Chuck had penned about Dean and Sam’s life was cross-catalogued in Mythology, Horror, Sci-Fi, and Theology.

So, he had decided early on he was going to close the book on Julie Felton. Enjoy her from afar on occasion when he could. Peek at a few pages. Let her slowly put her life back together again and see the story play out from the view of his own backyard. He didn’t know how long she’d stay anyway. The quick separation he’d read about from Steve Felton, a Communications Director at the biggest hospital in upstate Delaware, and her even quicker house purchase during it all, could mean anything. Maybe she was rash, quick to act, like him. Maybe she’d be married in six months, moved out, and he’d never see that pretty face again.

But something told him, from all that he’d learned, that she was methodical and thought long and hard about the consequences her actions created. When she made a decision, he felt she’d follow it through. Another reason he didn’t introduce himself. He knew, could tell, she wanted to meet him. And the more he saw of her, the more he wanted to meet her. Maybe see what normal was like again. But, he was all kinds of trouble. What did Bobby used to say? Ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag.

And, then, when he knew the grass couldn’t wait to get mowed any longer, as Spring pushed the growth of his lawn into high gear, he strolled out to inspect it one morning and got ambushed by a sweet little Italian mother.

Now, not even two months later, after agreeing to mow a neighbor’s lawn, he was back at it. Staring at Julie and she was still none the wiser of his presence. The hospital machines beeped around her bed in the ICU room she’d been wheeled into a half hour ago. A nurse checked and noted the information on the screens.

Now who’s playing hide and seek, Jules?

“Giulia!” Brigida’s tiny frame stood in the doorway.

Another nurse appeared, flustered, behind her. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, we can only have one visitor in this room at a time.”

Dean stood up and walked over to Brigida. She snatched one of his large hands, her hazel eyes wide at the blood all over his shirt. “It’s okay.” He nodded at Brigida and then looked over to the nurse. “I’ll be outside.”

Dean could hear Julie’s mom call out to her again from where he stood in the hallway. From his vantage he saw Samuel and Wes standing in the waiting room at the far end of the corridor. He waved and trudged over to give them what little news he could. Their eyes bugged out even larger than Brigida’s at his appearance.

He knew exactly what was going on with Julie but couldn’t let on a damn thing. The only one who got an earful of the Jinn mythos, Clif notes version style, was Marty. Dean explained everything that had gone down in that afternoon. They used rope to create a tourniquet around Julie’s thigh to slow down the blood loss. Two squad cars and an ambulance showed up not long after. Dean watched the paramedics inspect Julie and move her onto a gurney. They loaded her with care into the back of the emergency vehicle. Marty made sure Dean went along for the ride. Red and blue lights flashed over the warehouse exterior wall and nearby field. They crossed paths with another ambulance on the way to the crime scene. That one would’ve been for Ina’s dead body.

“Are you alright, Dean?” Samuel asked, motioning to Dean’s shirt, after listening to the kidnapping tale.

“Oh, yeah. Not my blood. Or, Julie’s.” He wasn’t going to mention how much blood Julie had been drained of; Wes already looked queasy enough. “Thanks for bringing Brigida.”

“Of course.” Samuel stated. “So, she’s stable?”

“As stable as one can be when they’re unconscious.” Dean shrugged. He clocked a state trooper staring at him in the waiting room. The man in the head to toe khaki ensemble marched toward him in his brown boots. Marty told me I’d need to be prepared to go in for questioning as soon as things calmed down. “Listen, I’m probably going to have to head to the police station soon. Will you be able to stay?”

They nodded in unison. Dean turned at the tap on his shoulder. The trooper’s bushy mustache twitched as he spoke. “Dean Winchester?”

“That’d be me.”

“Officer Murray. Detective Martin Tullman wants me to escort you to the station for some routine questioning.”

There’s absolutely nothing routine about any of this. “Sure. But, I need to be able to get back here as soon as possible. Oh, and just one question for you.”

The officer tipped his hat and waited.

“Who’s driving me back to get my car?”

~~~~~

After the station and the ride back to get Baby, he had checked in with Wes and Samuel. They were still at the hospital with Brigida at almost midnight. There was no new news to report. Dean took the opportunity to race home and shower off the Jinn bits. He beat his record for the quickest clean and clothe and headed back.

When Dean arrived, he ordered Wes and Samuel to get themselves home. Brigida insisted that she would stay at the hospital all night, sleep in the waiting room, and that Dean should go home as well.

“There’s no way you’re staying here by yourself.” Dean shook his head. “Julie will kill me when she wakes up.”

Brigida offered a weary smile. They sat in the waiting room, now a lot less populated since visiting hours were over. A few other people and groups milled about like Brigida and Dean, hoping for some good news.

“Want me to get you something from the vending machine? I’m sure you haven’t eaten. Julie… she mentioned you’re on a lot of medication. The last thing she’d want is for you to get sick because you aren’t taking care of yourself with all this worry.”

“I took them. I can’t eat all that junk.” A wave of her hand dismissed the offer. “My sugar will go up. It’s already too high. I feel it.”

Dean frowned.

“You can take me back to Julie’s in a little while.” She clutched her purse to her chest. “I’ll get myself home in the morning for all my medicine and other things. Then, I’ll come back here.”

“Okay.” He knew better than to push any further. He clapped a hand on her forearm. “You just let me know when you’re ready to leave. And, I’ll take you back here in the morning.”

She tapped his hand on her arm. “I knew you were a good man.”

A tall, skinny man in grey jogging pants and a blue hoodie rushed up to Brigida. “How’s Julie?”

It took Dean a second to place him. He’d seen that face when he was snooping into Julie. But the pictures he’d seen of this man had a lot less wrinkles and a lot more hair.

“Steve?” Brigida’s face turned stern. “What are you doing here?”

“I got a call from the hospital a few hours ago, but I missed it. I’m still listed as an emergency contact.” Steve looked to Dean and then to his hand consoling Brigida. “How’s Julie?” he repeated.

Brigida choked back a ton of emotions, her face reddening.

Dean cleared his throat and spoke. “She’s unconscious. Doctor’s aren’t sure what’s wrong yet. They’ve run a bunch of tests. No brain trauma they can see.”

Steve scrunched his face up and snapped his head back. He looked like a disgruntled turtle. “Who are you?”

“Dean Winchester. I’m a neighbor of Julie’s.” He didn’t bother to offer his hand to shake.

“What happened?” Steve stared at Brigida again.

Dean rose and stepped in between Brigida and Steve. A small part of him took pride in the fact that he was taller than Julie’s ex. “Look, Steve. Brigida doesn’t have a whole lot in terms of details.” He lowered his voice. “I was the one that found Julie.”

Steve straightened his posture but still couldn’t make up much of the height difference. “What do you mean found her? Where?”

“You should probably reach out to a Detective Martin Tullman for the details. State Police. Troop 6. He may not be able to give them to you, though, being that you aren’t married to Julie anymore.”

The blue irises hid behind narrowing lids. “Who’d you say you were again?”

“Dean Winchester.”

Steve nodded his head. “Well, being that I’m the Communications Director at this hospital, I’m sure I can get all the information that I need.” He turned and headed for the nurses’ station.

“Just make sure it’s legal and you follow all that HIPPA crap,” Dean added, loud and clear, so everyone could hear. “Lawsuits are a bitch.”

Steve stopped his advance, cocked his head to Dean and Brigida, and faked a painful smile. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me apprised of Julie’s condition, Mom.” He stormed off.

Brigida scoffed and sniffled back some tears. “Mom. He hardly ever called me that when they were married.” She groaned at the sound of her knees creaking when she got up. “I’m going to go say good night to Giulia.”

“Brigida, I don’t think they’ll…”

Another hand wave. “Let them try and stop me. Coming?”

“I-I don’t…”

A hand wrapped in the crook of his elbow. “Then, just come along and get me down this hallway.” The tired nurse at the station acknowledged and watched them pass by with a smile. “Remind me to bring that one some food. She needs to eat more.” Brigida whispered to Dean. He chuckled.

Julie’s room was dark. A shaft of hallway light spilled onto the speckled tile floor. Their shadows broke into the room before they stepped inside. A painful ache stabbed Dean in the chest. Julie was awash in artificial blue light radiating from the machines monitoring her condition. A bunch of wires and tubes were strapped to her lifeless frame, including one intubating her.

Brigida leaned over the edge of her daughter’s hospital bed. Her hand stretched to reach Julie’s forehead. She closed her hands and started reciting something in Italian. Her fingers made small gestures of the cross over and over the skin while she continued the incantation. She rubbed the forehead gently when she was done. Something on Dean’s face must have required an explanation, because she stated, “In case she was cursed with Malocchio.”

“Cursed with what?”

“Evil eye. That was a prayer I learned when I was little to help get rid of it.”

Dean walked over to the other side of the bed. “You believe in curses, Brigida?”

Brigida nodded. “There’s a lot I believe in that Giulia thinks is crazy. Curses, ghosts, possession. I saw many things growing up in Italy that no one could explain.” She kissed her own fingers and then placed them on Julie’s forehead. “I just don’t want her in more pain than she already is. Can’t hurt.”

Dean smiled. “No. Can’t hurt.”

“I’m gonna go find out what kind of pasta that nurse likes and make sure she’ll be here tomorrow.” Brigida headed toward the exit. “Say goodnight.” She smiled and left Dean alone in the room with Julie.

Dean sighed and stared at Julie. “Don’t believe in the supernatural, huh? Gonna make for quite an awkward explanation about the family business.” He bent down, grabbed her hand, and whispered. “If you can hear me, Julie, I need you to listen. You’re dreaming right now. However great it is, it’s just a dream. And, you need to wake up. So, I’m going to do what I can on this side in the land of the living. But you can end it, too.” He swallowed. “If you kill yourself in the dream, you’ll wake up. But even more important… if you die any other way, not by your own hands… you won’t wake up. Ever again.” Dean pursed his lips together for a brief moment. “So, you need to be careful, okay? Until I can fix it or you beat me to it.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead. Then, he said a silent prayer and kissed her forehead one more time. “Can’t hurt.”

~~~~~

“What are you up to, Winchester?” Julie called across the yard, over to Dean, her hands clutching the top of the chain link fence. The property divider prevented her from sprinting through the grass and into those arms of his.

He dropped a bucket by one of Baby’s dirty rims and headed to the shed. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” He smirked in her direction.

She squinted and identified some cleaning products peeking out of the top of the bucket. She was too damn far away from the man. It wasn’t fair. It’s not like she could hop a fence as easy as he could.

He emerged from the shed with a water hose wrapped in a neat bundle and draped over a shoulder. “Wanna help?”

Her internal temperature rose about ten degrees. The bright blue sunny day with not a cloud in the sky had little to do with it. That thin white, v-neck t-shirt clinging to Dean accounted for three degrees. The curve of his ass, filling out his faded jeans as he bent down to connect the house to the spigot ticked up another two degrees. But, it was the full-watt smile that he beamed up at her when he rose, along with a wipe of his wet hand along one denim clad ass cheek that made up the other five.

He rubbed his hands together and strolled over to meet her on the fence line. His cool to the touch, damp palm rested on her fingers. He kissed her lips, not caring who was looking, out in the open. But Julie felt like it was only him and her in the whole entire world, right then and there. He licked his lips when he was done. “She’s gotten all kinds of filthy.”

She grinned. “Still talking about the car?”

He nipped at her top lip. “Come on, babe.” He smirked. “I wanna get you all wet.”

“I don’t know.” She sighed, her inner walls clenching at Dean’s naughty gaze and innuendo. “Washing Baby? That’s quite a big step in our relationship. What if I scratch her?”

“I won’t let you handle any tools that can do any damage. Just a sudsy wet sponge.” He kissed her forehead. “Can’t hurt.”

“Alright.”

He walked backwards and swung out an arm. “Get on over here, then.”

Julie frowned and searched her yard. She lifted a finger, an idea forming. One wicker chair was pulled to the fence. She stepped onto it, chair legs shaking on the uneven ground, and took a deep breath. The top of the fence pressed into her torso. “I have no athletic coordination, you know.”

“Give yourself a good hop up and over. Let your feet hit the ground first and not your face.” He chuckled. His hands were on his hips, bow legs flared out, as he watched and waited in a superhero stance. All he needed was a cape.

“Okay. Here goes nothing.” Julie jumped.

~~~~~

Dean twirled her around from the stove and the pot of boiling pasta that garnered her attention. He held her in a tight vice grip and stared into her eyes. She held onto the wet, wooden spoon wedged between their bodies. His eyes shifted to a mossy green shade. “Gotcha.” He whispered.

“Never have truer words been spoken.” Julie smiled. She shimmied her hands up and out to rest her forearms atop broad shoulders. The spoon swayed behind his back. “How do you like your spaghetti? Al dente or mushy?”

“Whatever gives me more time to do this.” He bent down and opened her lips with a parting of his own. His tongue delved inside, tasting her, making her moan at the strength and thoroughness of that particular muscle. Hands splayed over her back, pushing her close.

She was panting and out of breath when he finally pulled his mouth away. His eyes widened at the scene behind her. “Shit!”

The overflow of bubbling water seared and sizzled against the side of the pot and into the burner’s flames. “Shit!” She repeated and rotated in his arms to turn off the gas. “You made me lose all track of time.” An attempt to calm the roaring water with a swish of the spoon did little. When the boil subsided, she fished out a long strand and bit into it. “Well, at least they’re not ruined.”

Dean’s hands rested on her hips, leaning into her backside. He contorted his tall frame and rested his chin on her right shoulder. “I’ll be the judge.” His jaw moved and pressed into her skin, unhinged, open, and waiting. She pulled out another bit of pasta and dangled it over his lips. He captured and slurped the entire length in a second. Droplets of pasta water hit her cheeks. “Yep, it’s good.”

A quick pull of potholders over her hands readied for dumping pasta into the colander. “You are not allowed in the kitchen when I’m cooking. Too much of a distraction.” She bumped her ass into his thighs. “Move.” She giggled.

He sighed and leaned back, stepping toward the counter. “Fine.” Water poured into the sink and drowned out his other comment.

“What?” she turned and asked.

“I said I couldn’t help it. I’m hungry.” He raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head and felt the pasta steam redden her face. “You’re always hungry.”

He shrugged, not putting up an argument. “You done?”

Julie’s mouth opened. She placed the empty pot back on the stove. Her potholder clad hands fisted and rested on her hips. “I’m sorry, am I not moving fast enough for you?”

“Nope.” He bent down and rushed her frame. Before she could react, he’d lifted her up and draped her over his shoulder.

She gasped, tossed the potholders and tried to hold onto his back. “Dean!”

He smacked her ass and chuckled. His arms wrapped over her legs. One hand wedged between her thighs and slipped up along the heat of her pulsing mound. He carried her out of the kitchen and headed for the living room. An unceremonious dump onto the couch cushions had her staring up at him. His eyes lit up and he smirked. “I said I was hungry.”

~~~~~

Dean chomped into the massive takeout burger. Leaning over his coffee table, he devoured his late lunch. Sam grimaced at him from the laptop screen sharing space on the table.

“That stuff is going to kill you, Dean.”

“We’ve been through this, Sammy. If bacon’s what kills me, I win.” A dribble of secret sauce trickled down his chin and onto the food wrappers protecting the tabletop. He spoke through the chews. “So, back to the antidote…”

Sam shook his head. “Yeah. I speedy shipped the stuff to you. According to my tracking number, you should get it tonight. Just mix it according to the directions I’ll email over. Right. Now.”

Dean’s computer dinged. He slurped his soda. “Injection through the heart? Really has to be through the heart?”

“It’s like a shot of adrenaline.”

Dean frowned after another mouthful of beef and bacon.

“Julie’s still the same?”

He sighed. A couple crumbs hit the screen.

“Did you really just spit your food at me?”

Dean swallowed and used his sleeve to wipe the laptop clean. “Shut up. Yes, she’s still the same. I left Brigida at the hospital about an hour ago. No improvement, but nothing worse either. The doctor says her heartbeat gets a bit high every once in a while and there’s some spike in brain activity. She’s responding to some sort of stimulation.” He remembered the wistful smile on Julie’s face that day.

“That’s good.” Sam chuckled. “Well, maybe when she wakes up, she’ll reevaluate what she finds attractive about you in the first place and come to her senses.” Sam cleared his throat. “It was a joke, Dean.”

“Not that far off, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Winchester curse.”

“Geez, not that again.”

“You think it’s a coincidence that this poor woman, with no previous supernatural experiences or run-ins, happens to get kidnapped by a Jinn just a couple months after meeting me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Activity has been sporadic at best.” Dean shook his head. “I put her in danger by breathing in her general direction.”

“Did you ever think that maybe she’s lucky?”

“Lucky?” Dean scoffed, mindful to direct his response away from Sam this time.

“She was lucky that you were around when this happened. You saved her, dude. No matter what, there was nothing intentional on your part to put her in danger.” Sam picked up his phone, blasting an alarm. “Look, I’ve got to get ready to head to class. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get the work done when the supplies make it to you. Call me if you need help with the instructions. I know reading’s not your specialty.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean threw him a sarcastic smile.

“Later.”

~~~~~

Baby’s passenger side door squeaked. Julie’s sandals met the gravel and the cool summer air tickled over her exposed arms. Her neck craned upward, staring into the midnight blue sky lit up like a Christmas tree.

Dean shut the driver’s side door in unison with Julie on the other end. She looked over and saw him gazing up as well. “Nice.” He commented.

“See? I wasn’t kidding about the view.”

“Well, it’s not quite as great as Kansas at night.” Even in the dark the night sky illuminated the lookout point, one of many along Skyline Drive. Their road trip originated in Delaware late that morning and was now winding through the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. Dean wandered around Baby’s hood to stand in front of Julie. Arms wrapped around her waist.

“East coast girl, east coast views.” She looked around the field. “Weird, though. I’ve never been to this spot at night and had it all to ourselves. Not another car or person checking out the sky.”

Dean nodded. “I reserved it just for us. I know a guy.”

Julie smirked and stared at his sassy grin, inches from his delicious lips. “You didn’t even know where we were going.”

He shrugged, leaning closer. “So, family trips here every summer, huh?”

“From when I was about eight up until 15. Joey and I arguing in the back seat of Dad’s Mustang. Mom in the passenger seat, yelling at Dad every time he whacked Joey in the back of the head for being a pain in the ass. Getting a bucket of crispy, fried chicken right before we started up Skyline.”

Dean kissed her. She tasted the salt and spices. “I like that tradition.” He mumbled and smiled. “We get to make a new one.”

Julie was about to ask what he meant when he hoisted her up by her waist and sat her ass on Baby’s hood. “Whoa. Isn’t this sacrilegious?”

“Nah.” He jogged back over to the other side and hopped up, joining her. “I did this alot, on the road.” She laid back and tried to get her footing on the slippery steel, bending her knees. Baby was still nice and warm from the drive. He laid down and pulled her toward him with an arm over her shoulders, letting her lean into his side for support. She was getting used to thinking of him as her rock. “Now,” he nodded up, “That’s a view.”

She kept staring at him. “Yes, it is.”

He rubbed her shoulder and kissed her forehead. His voice turned serious. “You’ve got to come back to us, now, Jules.”

“What?”

“It’s time.” His eyes gazed into hers. “This is probably going to hurt like hell for a few seconds.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the tips of his fingers gliding along her cheek.

“Dean, I don’t under…”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ve got to.”

Something stabbed her in the heart and made her entire body seize for a second. Like a jackhammer, the pain vibrated everywhere and she ricocheted upright into a sitting position.

Her eyes jolted open and she gasped for air. Panic accompanied the pain and fear at whatever this thing was in her throat blocking her ability to breathe. Her fingers shot to her neck, coming into contact with a large tube instead of the expected skin. Investigating with touch, she realized it led up to her mouth. It was the thing lodged in her throat, along with smaller tubes in her nose. She tried to make sense of the white walls with the green horizontal stripe, the beeping, the monitors all around. And, then, she saw Dean.

Dean sprinted past the edge of her bed - the bed with rails like a crib and wires connected to various parts of her body - heading for the open doorway. “We need some help here! Now!” He bellowed.

Another rush of heat and pain knocked her onto her back. Blood pulsed wild and loud in her brain. Her eyes closed. She drifted away. Dean’s hand covered her forehead. “Hold on, sweetheart.”

~~~~~

“Kidnapped?” The question scraped out of Julie’s throat.

Dean watched her mind attempt to process the information. Tired and spent from the rude awakening hours earlier, Julie now sat upright in the hospital bed. The antidote had worked exactly as Sam said it would. Adrenaline straight to the heart. Brigida dashing out of the room with a weak bladder became Dean’s opportunity to administer his own version of health care.

He’d whispered and explained what he was about to do to an unconscious Julie. He apologized right before plunging the syringe into her chest cavity. The evidence got tossed into the hazardous waste receptacle as Julie sat straight up in bed, gasping and clawing at the intubation.

The three of them, Julie, Brigida, and Dean, now experienced a lull of medical activity and attention. Julie had gone through some more tests after waking and been wheeled away for an hour. The intubation had been removed. She had been rewired and looked less like a science experiment.

Brigida sat on Julie’s right. “No more talk about what happened. You need to try to eat something.”

Julie’s fingers ran over the bed sheets. Her brain is somewhere else.

Dean swayed from heel to toe, hands in his pockets, standing at the foot of the bed. “Want me to see if they can get you some more ice chips for that throat?”

Julie gazed up at Dean. But something was too far away and distant in her eyes for his liking. She shrugged.

“I’ll go and ask Natalie.” It was no surprise to Dean that Brigida was on a first name basis with the nurses on the floor after only a few days. She stood up and left the room, patting Dean on his elbow when she strolled past.

“Where did you find me?” Julie shifted in the bed and spoke again when they were alone. She winced and rested a hand on her chest. Right where I basically stabbed her.

“Brigida’s right, Julie. You probably don’t need to know all the details right…”

“Where?” She squeaked out the one word.

He sighed. “Abandoned warehouse.”

Her fingers pulled at the band at the base of her hairline and tugged the ponytail free. She scratched her scalp and fussed with her waves. “I was going to go to the gym for a quick workout that morning.” The slumped posture stiffened with a groan. An attempt was made to fix her hair, combing it back with shaking fingers. She relented and leaned back. Her eyes dropped to her lap as she continued. “I-I had talked to mom… before I left the house, I saw her at the edge of the driveway, walking up. I shouldn’t have offered to drive her to the shopping center. But, I was already going there, going to the gym...”

“Hey.” Dean hurried to her side. Hands gripped the bed rails. “Don’t go blaming yourself for anything that happened.” He bent down, tried to get his face in her line of sight. A shy flutter of lids hesitated, but her eyes eventually stared back. “None of this is your fault, Jules.”

Glazed eyes blinked away tears forming as Julie spoke. “Thank you…” her breath hitched, “for finding me.”

Dean’s hardened heart cracked at the lost and vulnerable quality in Julie’s voice. He offered an upturned palm. Her cold fingers crept into its hold. He squeezed, intent on warming her. “Kind of selfish on my part. We still have to finish that date, remember?”

The first smile he’d seen on her face in what felt like forever lined her lips. “Right now?”

He laughed. “I’ll give you some time to get right.”

“What’s wrong with how I look?” She rasped out a laugh. “How could you not want this?”

“Who says I don’t?” He shook his head in appreciation. “And, that six pack of cigs a day voice is hella sexy.” Dean turned serious. “When I mean get right…”

She nodded. “I know.”

“However long it takes.” He swallowed. “Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

Her lip twitched. “Promise?”

He smiled and squeezed her hand a little harder. “Promise.”

Part 14

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