#((they should make shirts for everyone in the vein of 'south park': 'oh my god they killed devon again!'))

[theheadlessgroom]

"It went great," Randall smiled warmly, as he removed the last of the boxes and tucked them under the bed, before he moved to turn the sheets down and fluff up her pillow for her, wanting to make sure she was as comfortable as possible.

"I...I think they're well on their way to being open to the idea of you joining the family," he continued, his smile not fading as he said this: Maybe he was putting all of his eggs into one basket, but given the way the Paces spoke with her all throughout the night, getting to know the truth, better understanding her, to say nothing of how they happily shared their most favorite family stories with her, how they fretted over making sure she stayed fed, and was shielded from the sun...it spoke volumes to him about how they felt about her, and how much they came to care for her.

"I...I don't think we'll have anything to worry about," he asserted gently, as he turned back to face Emily, to wrap an arm around her and kiss her again, to better put her mind at ease before she got some rest-maybe they'd talk about the future with his folks tonight before she left, maybe they wouldn't. But whenever they did, he had a good feeling the conversation would go well, and that his parents would welcome her into the family with open arms.

"That's not...hopelessly naive of me to think...is it?"

[writethehousedown]

Conflicted Looks Good On You (Crystal x Gigi) - Mina

A/N: Hi everyone, i’m so excited to finally get to participate in one of these challenges! I worked really really hard on this so I hope you enjoy it, this is possibly my best fic yet? :> Please go say hello on my blog @goodemornting !!

Crystal works as a lifeguard for the scariest ride in the entire waterpark, The Vortex of Death. Gigi hates scary things, but might make an exception for the pretty woman who keeps on saving her.

The first time Gigi met Crystal, she’d been dying. No, literally dying.

There was water in her lungs, and it felt like she was drowning from the inside. Her feet were somehow stuck to something that felt like clammy plastic, almost suffocating against her skin. The sky was blurry above in bruised shades of purple, great swathes of orange cutting across it, and it looked like the skies in those terrible indie horror movies Jackie sometimes made her watch. There was a procession of skulls above her as well, faces grotesque and grimy with tongues protruding from bony cheeks and dripping drool into a pool of flames, and Gigi couldn’t help but wonder whether the devil had finally gotten the best of her and sent her down to hell.

Her first coherent thought was thighs. Good thighs. Nice, strong, tan thighs with a soft layer of muscle. The kind of thighs she’d like to see walking around the house on lazy Sunday mornings, blue shorts attached to them and a tacky, overlong red T-shirt hanging down just below the waistline. Water-drops clung to wet skin and ran down in interesting little rivulets, creating intricate lines that could be traced most efficiently with a tongue.

Pair of Thighs had to have a face up there somewhere, Gigi hoped, but then again this was hell so was she really sure?

She chocked at the feel of hands intertwining with her own, grip tight and unflinching as they struggled to lift her up. The gaping skulls and fire became spirals of blood-red spots, scrunching her eyes up and letting herself be lifted from the water. She tried to breathe in and felt her lungs burn, throat tight and painful.

A hand thumped her back hard.

Gigi sputtered, dribbling water. She almost managed to cough out a sentence but then someone’s mouth was on her own, knocking any coherency straight back out of her with the feel of soft lips pulling harshly to get a better grip. She startled, shoulders tensing, but her arms didn’t have the strength to pull away. She tasted sugary peaches, like the kind that filled the cakes and pastries in cafe windows, warm fingers on the back of her head offering the lightest pressure, before they pulled away with a quiet gasp. Gigi scrambled back, and in her daze, managed to kick someone squarely in the chest.

“Holy shit! Holy shit, Gigi!”

If this really was hell and peachy-tan-thighs-girl was a demon, then Gigi was screwed because somehow she’d also brought her best friend into this equation.

“J-Jackie?”

The Persian woman crowded her field of vision, shoulders slumping in relief at the brunette’s words. She looked pale, a wet towel slung over her neck and brown eyes comically huge behind her glasses. Her hands were pressed against her face, squishing up her cheeks in nervous panic, and Gigi thought she looked like a twelve-year-old.

“Oh my god, what were you thinking? Why did you do that?” She screeched, hands clutching her heart as though it might beat right out of her chest “Did you get water in your head or something? I thought you were going to die!” Gigi looked back at her hazily, almost apologetic for how nervous the older woman looked.

“D-do what?” The younger gasped out, shaking slightly from the cold water hugging her skin.

“Jump out of the floatie!” Jackie hissed, turning to speak to someone out of Gigi’s vision. “I’m sorry, are you all good?”

“I’m fine.” A honey voice laughed gently, breathing heavily, “Is your friend alright now?”

“She seems to be alive,” Jackie trilled, high and panicky. “And talking. Is that bad?”

“Oh, no, that’s great. Maybe you can head to the cafe, get some sugar in her.”

Gigi floundered to sit up and get a full look of peach girls face, rubbing at her eyes that were stinging from the pool water. The lifeguard was still clutching her chest in pain, but her grin was square and wide and her striking orange hair was pulled back from her face in a messy ponytail. A jarringly purple headband covered half her forehead, keeping her curly hair off her face, and Gigi saw manicured brows, soft lips and golden, tan skin. The top lip was thicker than the bottom one, which was interesting, and the brunette told herself she was only staring so hard because those lips had been on hers just a few moments ago.

Because Gigi had - apparently, in panic - jumped off her floatie in the midst of the scariest ride in the fucking park, the Vortex of Death, and proceeded to injure the poor lifeguard.

She felt her heart stop again. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, “I’m really sorry, oh my God. I kicked you. After you saved me. I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I like saving lives.” The woman grinned like it was nothing, waving a hand nonchalantly which the brunette noticed had fingernails painted in rainbow colours. “Not often that I have to climb up half the ride to do it, but it shook up my day a little.”

Jackie tried ineffectively to dry Gigi’s hair with her wet towel, scoffing under her breath. “Don’t you usually save people lower down?”

“Yep. Most pass through the shark dive before they panic and flail and I have to go pull them out.”

Gigi frowned. “Where was I?”

“Still in the flame thrower part.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed. At least you didn’t drown.”

Jackie was nodding, though she looked like she was trying to convince herself that everything was okay more than Gigi. She still looked horrified, patting the brunette’s head with that towel and biting down on her lip so hard that Gigi was afraid she’d tear right through.

“It’s okay, honey,” The older whispered, “You can get stuck in the shark dive next time.”

The lifeguard girl giggled loudly at that, shoulders shaking gently. Her voice was a pretty, smooth thing, sling-shotting itself straight into Gigi’s veins, but her laughter itself was heady and adorable. Her one piece swimsuit showcased an embroidered burning skull with the words Vortex of Death beneath it, hardly fitting of the bright brown eyes and gummy smile the taller woman possessed. Her name-tag badge said Crystal, which was a weird one, but who was Gigi to judge? Her blue shorts looked tight and stuck to her skin way too snug, hugging her toned muscles. It wasn’t fair, because even in her tacky lifeguard clothes, Crystal looked like she belonged in a summer fashion catalog. She didn’t look real, much more suited to a beach in the Mexican coast or a hip village in the south of France or something, working on her perfect tan skin.

She certainly did not look like she should be giving CPR in a shitty waterpark in a tiny corner of southern California, and Gigi was immediately mesmerized - cartoon heart eyes, dry mouth, shaky hands - the whole package.

“Do you feel like you can stand up?” Peach girl - Crystal - asked with a tilt of her head. She looked concerned, warm eyes fixed on Gigi’s own and large palm held out for her to hold.

“Y-yeah.”

“Awesome,” She grinned. “Come on, then. Take my hand.”

The younger woman grabbed at it, ignoring the way her heart jumped at the feel of her long fingers closing around her palm, strong and promising. Crystal yanked her up and off of the concrete, catching her neatly after she yet again stumbled into her arms. Gigi gaped up at her, halfway dead again from mortification, but the tan woman’s smile was warm and kind, carving deep laugh lines into her cheeks.

She swallowed hard and felt her insides flutter.

That had been the beginning of her doom.

***

“Nicky says she’s imprinting on you,” Jan grinned when they met at the entrance to the park, under the palm trees surrounding the ticket booth. “Like baby ducks imprint on mom ducks. Only your mom is a hot lifeguard who’s mandated to wear those teeny shorts.”

“She’s not my mom,” Gigi hissed, but Jan didn’t paying attention. “What’s up with this dumb park and teeny shorts, anyway?”

The blondes head turned as a woman passed them by, gaze lingering on the same uniform swimsuit. Gigi had been at this park enough times now to recognize the broad shoulders and dark hair of Jaida, the girl who handled the Lazy River. She spotted her sometimes with Crystal, fooling around when the crowds were less and they had nothing to do. She low-key resented the woman because it was absolutely impossible not to, Jaida was gorgeous, like, beach model, I-do-runway-shows-for-fun gorgeous, and they were super touchy and flirty and annoying all of the time. Once, at Gigi’s insistence, Nicky had asked Jaida if the two were dating. The dark haired woman’s response had been loud, deep laughter, and a pat to the top of Nicky’s head.

“Her name’s Jaida, if you want to know,” She told Jan with a frown, hoping she didn’t sound too aggressive, “She’s really pretty, huh.”

“Jackie told me her name,” Jan replied thoughtfully, craning her neck to keep gazing at the older lifeguard. “Your Crystal is pretty too. Doesn’t she sing as well?”

“She only does one direction songs,” Gigi muttered, shouldering past the older girl to pay for tickets, “She’s a real pro at those, though.”

A loud snicker from behind her told her that Nicky had finally joined them. “She’s a weird one, huh?“

“She’s not weird,” Gigi pouted, crossing her arms, “She’s just…she’s different.”

The French woman snorted, “You act the sun shines out of her ass.”

The brunette pinched the bridge of her nose exasperatedly, “Why the fuck did I bring you guys?”

“Because you know it’s too lame to come to water parks alone.”

Nicky added, “Do you really think we have nothing better to do with our weekends?”

Gigi raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t.”

The French woman frowned, “Well, yeah, fair. But it wasn’t me who decided to crush on the lifeguard that strictly works at the scariest ride in the entire water-park, while having the biggest fear of water.”

“Will you ever let that go?”

“I don’t know. You might have to actually get the girl before that.”

They passed through the entrance to the park, Gigi’s feet acting on their own as they dragged her to her inevitable destination, the stone pathway leading up to the scariest ride in the entire park. Jan laughed once they arrived, nudging the brunette’s shoulder, “Hey, how many times do you think we’ve come here in the last six weeks?”

Gigi didn’t reply, she didn’t know if she was ready to acknowledge the number yet. She knew exactly how many times.

Twenty.

Twenty fucking times she’d come to the water park in the last month, and twenty fucking times she’d climbed into the Vortex with her heart beating out of her chest. It never stopped being terrifying, she never stopped feeling like she’d puke, but somehow, she’d conditioned herself at a Pavlovian level to look forward to it.

To look forward to Crystal meeting her at the bottom of the ride, beaming smile preemptively in place and warm hands waiting to yank her out of the water.

Crystal. Gigi tried out the name nearly every day since the lifeguard had told it to her. Tonguing it around in her mouth, getting a feel for it. Crystal.

Crystal was always there, waiting at the end of the ride like a little guardian angel dressed in her teeny shorts and sometimes that purple headband, reaching out to help the hapless souls flailing in her pool after being spit out by the hell-ride.

What’s up, Gigi would ask, cool as you please. And Crystal would reply excitedly, did you have fun? She would nod, very cool, as if she hadn’t just spent the last one minute screaming her head off like a banshee. As if she hadn’t felt her soul fly up all the way to her gullet, hanging on by a bare thread for the entire duration of the ride. And how was your week, busy yeah? She’d ask, swallowing down her nausea. And Crystal would say something cute, something funny, like oh, I had to dig two people out of the slide today. No big deal.

The lifeguard always smelt like something citrus and tropical, only slightly layered with the chemicals in the water. She always had those peach-shine lips, and Gigi wondered how much lipbalm the lifeguard must go through because they’re more likely to become chapped with all the chlorine she was in contact with. Gigi would stay for a few minutes, chatting with her, asking her things. Do you like pizza? I like pizza, and Do you like sewing? I like sewing. She learned that Crystal likes dancing, and eating Italian food. That Crystal’s accent is colored with the heavy Spanish she picked up from growing up in Mexico. That when she’s not saving lives in the dumb theme park she moonlights as a bartender in some tiny club.

Crystal had even come to expect her, always asking where she’d been if the brunette hadn’t shot down the Vortex for a few days. It lit something fierce in Gigi’s heart when she did that, knowing that the older girl thought of her when she wasn’t around. She would absolutely keep coming back, waste her money on tickets and climb into a ride that scares the soul out of her, just to hear the older woman say what have you been up to? I missed you this week.

It’s a potent sort of crush. Puppy-love strong, blood on fire, wanting-to-serenade-with-roses-and-tulips sort of thing.

Gigi is so gone.

“You okay to do the Vortex alone today?” Jan asked, bouncing giddily on her toes, “Nicky and I are thinking of doing the Lazy River.”

Of course they were. They were going to spend most of that Lazy River ride falling out of their floaties and scraping their heads along the side and bumping into others - general incompetent nonsense that’d get Jaida to follow them exasperatedly along the edges of the entire course. “Sure, try not to get yourselves killed.” What she wanted to say is please don’t go, I’m so terrified, but the idea of getting some precious alone time with a certain tan skinned lifeguard has her holding her head up confidently, walking through the fiery entrance alone like she wasn’t about to faint.

The line dwindled. The Vortex’s head was shaped like a screaming man, tiny red and black striped boats sitting in lines ready to escort people through the horror show. No matter how many times Gigi stood there, waiting to be launched down the steep throat and into the spinning, spiraling slide, she still got awful butterflies at the thought of it. There was only one more person in front of her, and then she would have to go, and the worst part was waiting for the safety-guard to rise and for the beep to sound and for her to be launched down that deep, dark tunnel like a rocket into space.

The person in front of her was thrown down the slide, a scream rising from their throat like cold murder. Gigi shuffled forward, grimacing at the ride’s technical controller who offered her a sympathetic smile. Why do people make these things? Who wants to be scared out of their wits while being sling-shotted into a dark, amniotic chamber full of echoing sounds and slick, red walls? What is this fascination with knowing what it’s like to possibly be swallowed by a giant whale or something? Why are people so intensely entertained by—

“Fuck!” Her hands scrambled for purchase as she was propelled forward, the ride making a terrible screeching sound as the plastic slid against the slide. The skulls leered at her from every turn, the disgusting laughing sound that seemed to have been recorded in the pits of purgatory itself cheering her on from the speakers hidden in the walls. Gigi shrieked, the sound echoing off the walls and bouncing through the chamber along side her.

She could almost see Crystal now, sitting on her lifeguard chair, peering down the tunnel to see whether Gigi would get stuck inside the exit. “A lot of people get stuck on that part, y’know,” The older woman had told her once. “It’s a structural defect. But most people find it hilarious and it adds to the experience, so they don’t fix it.”

Gigi hadn’t had the heart to tell her that most people probably also appreciate the sight of Crystal climbing up to get them, pole in hand, to poke them out of position. Crystal - narrow yet broad, big yet small, a mess of contradictions and odd features and little flaws brought together into the perfect person. Gigi could hardly believe she wasn’t a fever dream.

The redhead’s sunglasses were bright green and heart-shaped that day, reflecting the afternoon sun and doing wonders for her tan skin. Gigi barely had time to glimpse before she fell right out of her floatie and straight into the pool, the splash sound reverberating through the water. She went under and spluttered for a while, bright blue in her eyes and burning water in her throat, before familiar arms dragged her out and greeted her with a tight embrace.

“You never stick the landing right,” Crystal hummed, looking down at her through a teasing smile, “Hi, Gigi.”

“Hey,” The younger woman replied breathlessly, holding up a weak thumbs up. “What’s shaking?”

“You tell me,” The taller woman raised an eyebrow teasingly, “Pretty nasty fall you had today, looked like you were about to cry.”

Gigi pushed the hair out of her eyes, trying to appear dignified, “Are you making fun of me?” Crystal’s eyes widened, shaking her head frantically.

“No!” The taller woman assured, hands flurrying to deny the statement, “You looked graceful, almost! Very pretty. Do people ever tell you how pretty you are? Because I think so.” She spoke very quickly, that heavy accent dripping honey-like into every word, and Gigi could hardly catch what she was saying. That was endearing too. Crystal’s lashes fluttered excitedly. “You’re really something, Geege.”

The brunette peered at her, trying to make out if all of this had a layer of hilarity to it. The redhead didn’t look like she was joking, just gazed at Gigi happily - so earnest and serious, eyes round and lamp-like, a one thousand kilowatt smile. Skin all supple and tan and pretty, hair drawn back from her face, standing there knee-deep in chlorinated water fangirling over her. Her big, bubbly lifeguard crush. Gigi sort of just really wanted to kiss her head.

She cleared her throat. “I thought it must look kinda weird, falling off every time I get on this ride,”

“No, it isn’t! You look cool, dramatic. You look like an actress.”

“Really?”

“Really. Your clothes look cool, too. I love your swimsuit!.” Crystal beamed, gesturing down at Gigi’s white lace bikini. Her hands were still resting on Gigi’s shoulders, big palms squeezing gentle, so soft that a butterfly couldn’t get away with it. “You should be confident.”

“I am.”

“That’s good, then.” The redhead licked her lips - a quick pink swipe, leaving her mouth glossier still. “Wow, I can’t believe I know someone so gorgeous. It’s

awesome.”

Crystal smile was pearly and bright, starry-eyed, mouth that cool blush tone that reminded the brunette of fresh strawberries and fluffy blankets. “That’s pretty lame,” Gigi laughed, cheeks getting warmer by the second.

“Five people have gotten stuck since morning,” The lifeguard grinned, “One was this girl, she screamed the funniest things ‘till I got her out of there, you should have heard it. Sometimes I think people hate this ride. They do it once because it’s so famous and everyone wants to look cool, but they secretly can’t stand it.”

Gigi glanced back at the Vortex and shivered, her heart still pounding from the twists and jumps of the tunnels packed inside. All of what the taller had just said applied to her, too, but she’d left out the one variable that kept bringing her back.

She wondered if Crystal knew what she looked like.

“You come back, though,” The redhead observed, peering around Gigi in preparation for the next person screaming their way through the stone chamber. “You seem to love this ride. You must be a really brave person.”

Gigi chuckled weakly, her stomach flipping. “I like to live dangerously,” She lied through her teeth.

“Yeah?” Crystal lit up. “So do I! I’ve been wanting to go to the summer festival so bad. There’s this crazy roller-coaster this year, did you see it?”

She’d seen it. She’d seen it many, many times, all over her Instagram feed no matter how many times she told the app she was Not. Interested. It was a monstrous thing, must be the size of two baseball pitches, at least three times what the vortex was. Just looking at it had been enough to make her want to melt into the floor, so of course Crystal was absolutely enamored by it.

“They brought it in from Australia or something. I keep asking Jaida to come with me, but she says she’s scared, which is weird because normally she’s good with this stuff-“

Sometime in between Crystal opening her mouth and closing it, Gigi had begun to nod violently. She’s not sure when it started, but her mouth twisted into a warming smile. It felt like she was no longer in control of her own voice as she hummed, “I can go with you, if you want.”

The redhead looked at her, wide-eyed, a little daze of possibility sparking in her gaze. “Really?” She asked, and then frowned skeptically. “I mean you don’t really know me, and I wouldn’t want to pressure you..”

“I’d love to go, promise,” Gigi beamed, earnest. “I - uh - I love roller-coasters. Who doesn’t?”

“Right.” Crystal brightened, cheeks puffing up from her wide smile. Excitement made her look soft, even softer, actually, lit her up from the inside like a little doll that smiles when you push at its tummy. Gigi heard a swoosh of blood rushing in her ears. “What reason is there to be scared? You go on the thing, you have the time of your life, you feel alive. You know?”

The brunette could think of at least five hundred reasons to be scared. “Alive.” She mumbled, clenching her jaw, “Alive. Yep.”

The lifeguard giggled happily. “When do you want to go?”

There was a little kick in Gigi’s gut, a last ditch attempt to get her out of something she knew she shouldn’t be doing. “W-whenever. I’m free…Monday night?” Too bad, she had done it anyway.

Crystal near vibrated in excitement, bouncing on the heels of her toes. “Okay! Okay. Monday night. I’ll meet you there.” Her eyes twinkled, round pupils gazing into Gigi’s more piercing ones, and the younger woman felt as though she was going to faint yet again.

The splash of someone else landing in the pool startled them both, a quiet scream following it from underwater. The redhead shot her an apologetic look, - gotta go now - and padded her way over to the flailing person, warm-voiced and gentle and smiling as she helped them up.

The brunette climbed out of the pool, looking back once, and then started to move towards a different ride before she made another decision she’d regret.

“Geege!” Crystal called, waving dramatically back at her, “Monday, don’t forget. It’s a date!”

Gigi nearly stumbled into a bush.

***

In all matters not involving math, scary rides, and one particular tan-skin lifeguard, Georgina Goode was very competent.

She made and designed clothing, with some help from Nicky. She liked to cook, and she liked living alone, and she liked women. She liked some fun with her sense of organization, too, so on most weekends that she didn’t have to work, she ended up in a club with Jan.

“Cute girl at eight o’clock,” The blonde slurred, happily pulling Gigi this way and that in vaguely the rhythm of whatever song was being played, “She’s been looking at you all night.”

She turned to look, but it was like her mind’s eye had shrunk to develop an omnipotent focus only on Crystal. Her gaze found the new girl and slipped away quickly, disinterested. She turned back to Jan with a shrug. “Not my type.”

“Oh, you have a type now?” The older woman’s smile was knowing, “The type that makes you go on scary rides? Loud, smiley, tan?”

Gigi shook her head, groaning, “I’m going with her to the autumn festival tomorrow.”

Jan’s eyes went wide, stopping in her tracks and mouth gaping wide, “Really? You finally asked her out? Lifeguard Crystal?!”

The music changed, some pop anthem, and Jan lit up and tugged on Gigi’s arm to pull her further into the dance floor. The brunette grinned and shimmied closer. She liked dancing with Jan, because Jan was the rare breed of person who’d recite all the properties of antibiotics or whatever she was studying at nursing school while performing a slut-drop. Jan never made things weird. Even then, she was probably contemplating Gigi’s potential future with “Lifeguard Crystal” as she swayed her hips enthusiastically to the rap music.

“Well, she’s not bad looking, I guess.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Fine, fine. She’s fucking hot. Like. Ridiculously hot.”

“That’s more like it.”

Jan’s brows creased, offering a sympathetic smile. “But you don’t know her very well, babe.”

“I know her better than that girl over there you were suggesting I take home.”

“Fair point,” The blonde frowned, reaching around Gigi to grab her drink from the table. “But what if she’s…Oh, fuck it. Enjoy your date with Crystal. She of the life-giving mouth and tiny blue shorts. Just be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, well,” Gigi hesitated, dry-mouthed, ignoring the patronizing tilt of the older woman’s head. “I don’t think this date is ending that way.”

The blonde narrowed her eyes, “Why? What are you two doing?” She asked skeptically, downing a sip of her vibrantly coloured cocktail.

She took a deep breath, “Going on the roller coaster at the summer festival.”

Jan spat out her drink, looking back at the younger woman with eyes the size of saucers. “What?” She spluttered, loud enough that club goers around her startled and looked in their direction. “Have you seen that thing? It’s monstrous. It’s abominable. It’s an absolute atrocity, Gigi.”

“We want to feel alive.”

“You sound really dead right now.”

“I know.” She sighed, hiding her face behind her palms, “She just, Crystal, she’s… special, y’know? I want to impress her so bad, it’s insane,”

“Of course you do.” Jan put her small hand to Gigi’s jaw, furrowing her brows. The younger woman leaned into it, taking a deep breath. “God, it’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Maybe I just need to see her out of those shorts for once. Break the spell.”

The blonde shook her head. “It’s bad,” she whispered, nodding to herself and patting Gigi’s cheek gently. “So bad.”

“Janet,” the brunette whispered hoarsely, “How much do I need to pay for you to come to the summer festival and drag my body away if I die on this thing?”

***

On Sunday evening when Crystal messaged her to ask are we still on? with a flurry of heart emojis and a mermaid, the brunette didn’t have the slightest idea of how to respond.

She scowled at her phone for a minute. Yes? She typed, and then deleted the question mark. She wasn’t a stumbling middle school girl with a painful crush on a senior way out of her league. She was smart. She was confident.

She could do this.

Yes, she sent, and then couldn’t bare to look at the phone for a while. Crystal’s reply wasn’t much to go on when she finally gained the courage to peek.

“Cool,” The brunette read aloud, turning the word about in her mouth to gauge its true meaning. “Cool.” She pouted at the lack of any smiley faces.

She let it go. Ran late anyway because she kept looking at pictures of that roller coaster and having mini heart-attacks. There was a chain lift and a steep drop and many, many points where both the contents of Gigi’s stomach and her heart were likely to leap out of her mouth.

Still. She could do this. She wasn’t a baby, she rode the Vortex of Death every week - she could do this.

Crystal’s hair was ruffled in the wind when Gigi finally caught up to her, already smelling of daffodils and ice-cream. She was finally out of those fucking shorts too, dressed all pretty in a yellow sundress and patterned necktie, still with that soft-shine balm glossing up her lips in a more shimmery colour this time. She wore round glasses, pushed up to the top of her head and intertwining with her red curls, with bunches of colourful bracelets decorating both hands. She looked straight out of a painting, maybe a character escaped from the most beautiful art museum and on the run through the summer festival.

“You look - you look nice,” Gigi stuttered, all verklempt, and Crystal beamed back with her eyes scrunched up.

“You too! There’s a penguin pin on your shirt.”

Gigi looked down, almost gasping at the sight of said penguin pin in the middle of her pale blue blouse. She hadn’t meant to wear that one, but by some psychobabble-subconscious-wizardry, she’d still managed it. It’s even a dancing penguin.

“Oh,” she chuckled, feeling slightly sick.

“It’s cute.” Crystal poked a finger at it, all easy, like all her dates turned up wearing penguins on their shirts. Gigi jolted back in surprise, shocked at the sudden contact. The redhead laughed and stuck her hands in her pockets, “Sorry. Should we go find the line for the roller-coaster?”

The younger woman squirmed a little, grimacing, “Y-Yeah,” she replied, finally, “I guess so.”

The festival was pretty and thrumming, all glimmering blue lights and palm trees, smell of tropical fruit and salt water, luau music. There was smoke and surfboards and the luster of gaudy-pretty streamers, fluttering silver and aqua and yellow. Spots of glitter constellated on Crystal’s cheeks like freckles whenever she looked up.

“I love the summer festival,” The redhead muttered in awe. “Where I grew up the carnivals were smaller than this, but it was my favorite time of the year.”

Gigi only spent the first minute feeling clammy-palmed and sick with worry, because Crystal turned out to be a ridiculously excitable person. Five steps into the festival and her hand came tight down on her wrist, dragging her off because puppies, oh my god, they have puppies, and Gigi went along because what the fuck, she liked puppies too.

The air was caramel-thick and the close press of bodies made the space hot. Crystal watched the puppies jump through loops with wet lashes and a beatific expression, fingers itching forward to grab, to hold. Gigi cooed at a fluffy poodle with curly gray fur and liquid eyes. The older woman pet the top of its head, looking overwhelmed. “I miss my dog,” she whispered quiet, and Gigi felt the sweetness in that sentiment all the way to the tips of her toes.

In some time she asked, a bit hopefully, “Are we going to stay with the puppies forever?” She wanted the answer to be yes, fuck the rollercoaster. Spending the night getting ice cream and playing with dogs sounded much better to her.

Crystal blinked, “Oh,” she shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly, “Sorry. We should go.”

Gigi would’ve much rather stayed. But she dug this grave for himself, and now there was really no choice but to lie in it. She did manage to distract Crystal a little more on the way, which wasn’t much considering Crystal was extremely easy to distract.The brunette only had to wave her arms and say look over there for the tan woman to wildly pick any random direction and find something to look at. They inspected the painted surfboards and wander through a maze of mirrors. They buy a weird little ship in a bottle that Crystal randomly fell in love with. They followed loud pew-pew sounds into a neon-lit, temporarily constructed arcade, where the lifeguard demolished Gigi in some annoying car race game. There were Pokemon in the arcade claw machines that they spent a few minutes trying to win.

“I like Pokemon,” Crystal grinned, and she filed that away, thought of herself saying it to her friends - my girlfriend likes Pokemon. The redhead was focused, tongue peeking out the corner of her lips and eyes narrowed as she navigated the claw. “I have a lot of these”

“I think they’re cute.”

“You do?”

Gigi faulted, colour rushing time her cheeks. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t think you were the type of person to like plushies.”

“What type of person did you think I was?”

Crystal shrugged, not looking away from the claw. “Very cool.”

“Oh.”

The older woman didn’t  seem very bothered by this change in perception but Gigi was, she wanted to clarify, the itch to make herself clear rising and suffocating her until it came out in a fast rush. “My friend says liking soft things doesn’t make you any less any less cool.”

Crystal glanced up, leaning forward to pat Gigi’s chest lightly. Weirdly, when she did it, it wasn’t patronizing at all. Just Crystal letting you know it’s fine. “It makes you more cool, I think.”

“Cooler,” She corrected, feeling her insiders shrivel up at her lameness. “Not more cool, cooler. I mean—that is—never mind.”

Gigi felt like a little moth drawn to a lamp - herself the moth, night-black and dirty with lies. Crystal’s the lamp, warm and sparkly like Christmas stars and fairy lights and she is so gone.

***

The Hurricane Dominator was exactly as Jan said: an atrocity. It climbed steep above the rest of the festival, and just the one visible loop of it made Gigi want to find the nearest trashcan to hurl into. It looped and curled and the cart practically hung suspended upside down at some point. She felt the integral parts of her system begin to shut down already, but Crystal rocked back on her feet, eyes wide and fists clenched, a soft wow shaping her mouth into a little O.

When they got closer, it was obvious that the line stretched all the way around the festival. Crystal’s face dropped a little. “That’s a long queue.”

Gigi tried not to let the relief show on her face. She tugged gently at the taller woman’s sleeve. “Maybe we should go on the smaller rides.”

“No, I can probably bribe someone into letting us cut the line.”

And she proceeded to do just that. Gigi stood back, slack-jawed, watching as Crystal walked up to a random guy and started promising him enough money for burgers and a drink. She threw in the little Pikachu, too, pressing it to the guy’s chest in that universal bro-thing where you slap the shit out of the other dude as hard as possible. The guy grinned and hi-fives her, proceeding to give Crystal her number, and then he and his girlfriend walked right out of the line leaving space for the older woman and Gigi.

“That guy was nice,” The lifeguard smiled, off-hand, when Gigi rushed to join her. “He has a restaurant near the water park. Said he’d give me dumplings on discount if I go there.”

The brunette huts his mouth quickly, trying to hide her astonishment.  “Do you.. is that how the world usually works for you?”

“What do you mean?” Crystal asked. “Oh. Yeah, I make friends fast! But look, we’re right at the front now.”

Gigi could feel herself start to sweat. Panic crawled up her spine, many-legged like spiders, locking up her muscles and breaking out of her in little shivers. She occupied herself with the mole on Crystal’s nose while she chattered happily about previous roller-coasters she’d tried. “There’s a TV show on an Australian channel that’s only about theme parks,” The redhead was babbling happily. Gigi really had to lean in to hear her over the death-screams of the people riding the Hurricane Dominator. “That’s how many theme parks they have. That’s my dream job.”

“Working in an Australian theme-park?”

“No. Having a show about theme-parks.”

“You must really like theme-parks.”

“I like all the rides except that thing that does the vertical drop,” Crystal muttered. “I’m scared of those ones.”

Gigi was scared of everything. As a kid, she was scared of the fucking monkey bars in the neighborhood’s jungle gym. Now that she was older she was afraid of spiders, snakes, foreclosure, unpaid credit cards, roller-coasters, ghosts, and her own truth. If she didn’t get on this thing, how is she going to tell Crystal what she was doing visiting the Vortex of Death multiple times? She imagined that conversation: I think you’re hot, so I took the death-ride twenty-one times so you could pull me out of the pool. How’s that for a meet-cute? Her palms felt clammy and sweat beaded on her brow.

The discomfort must’ve shown on her face, because Crystal asked, suddenly, “Are you okay?”

Gigi felt her soul slowly edge its way out of her body. “What?”

“You look pale. Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

She managed to hold her tongue through climbing onto their seats, and even pulled the safety-guard down. The older woman hummed contentedly, ready to go, and turned her head to look at Gigi. Her face fell so abruptly it was like she’d decelerated from mach speed to zero.

“Hey, uhm,” Crystal hesitated, eyes nervous and twitchy, “you look really faint.”

“I feel—I feel like I might,” Gigi flinched at the sound of the rollercoaster creaking, “You know.”

“What?”

“Faint.”

The redhead wriggled a little in her seat. “Do you want to get off? We can get off. We don’t have to-“

“No, no, you wanted to do this.”

“I don’t want to do it if you’re scared,” Crystal whispers, eyebrows furrowing, “There are other rides. We can go on that Twisterado thing - or the Space Pistols-“

The brunette giggled, a bit hysterically.  “I’m scared of all the rides”

“You’re not scared of the Vortex,” Crystal said authoritatively, reaching out to pat Gigi’s thigh. “You love that ride.”

And it was at that moment - with that syrupy-orangey light still playing on Crystal’s skin, with her brows on display and confusion clearly written on her face - that Gigi realized she really couldn’t do this. She couldn’t ride this roller-coaster. She was going to fucking die. All the energy sapped out of her, siphoned through some invisible port and fed to the demonic force that powered the ride.

“I’m fucking terrified of the Vortex,” Gigi gasped, death-bed-confession heavy. “I have nightmares about that thing. When I die and go to hell, all they’ll need to torture me is to make me go on that thing again and again, get me stuck in the bottom every single time, and—”

The tan woman looked like a confused puppy. “What are you talking about? You keep coming back to go on it.”

“Yeah, well.”

“I see you literally every week.”

She shuddered. “Crystal,” he says. “I only go on it because I get - I get to see you.”

The lifeguard looked flabbergasted, eyes the size of saucers and mouth gaping wide. She opened her mouth, like she wanted to say something, and then pursed it shut again. “What?”

Gigi looked at her shoes miserably. “I only g-go on the Vortex of Death because of you. Because you–uh, you save me, and you’re cute, and I…like seeing you.”

Crystal blinked violently, head tilted, puzzlement spilled scatter-shot across her features. But now they were moving, the roller-coaster slowly pulling backward,  and she could feel all of her insides clench up in horrific anticipation of what was to come.

“I know it’s pathetic,” Gigi mumbled, hating how small she sounded. The redhead still wasn’t saying anything. Crystal was probably too nice to say how lame this was.  The brunette wanted the ride to start so her soul could fly out of her body and take her out of the older woman’s range. “It’s so pathetic. I’m sorry.”

Crystal took in a shuddering breath. She opened her mouth again.

And then, with loud music and a horrible tug at Gigi’s stomach - the ride began.

[cecilspeaks]

120 - All Smiles’ Eve

Kevin: How do I love thee? Let me count your teeth.

Happy All Smiles’ Eve, Desert Bluffs!

[Desert Bluffs theme]

Kevin: Hi listeners! It’s Kevin!

Lauren: And Lauren!

Kevin: We hope you’re all having the smilingest All Smiles’ Eve you could have ever wished for.

Lauren: Desert Bluffs 2, welcome to our holiday show, where we re-tell classic story of All Smiles’ Eve.

Kevin: [excited noise] We’ll also have great last minute gift ideas and cooking tips! But first, let’s have a look around town to see how people are celebrating this most wonderful of holidays.

Lauren: Of course, our old city of Desert Bluffs is no more. It’s been swallowed up by the town of Night Vale, but we found a new home here in the Desert Otherworld!

Kevin: We’re broadcasting now from the scenic lighthouse atop a tall mountain. Looking out over endless, sand-covered nothingness.

Lauren: I like the sand. It’s my favorite part of living here.

Kevin: I like the nothingness.

Lauren: It really clears the mind. But there are moments of something-ness. And there are beautiful displays of lights and crafts. Oh, Frank Donnelly, who lives atop the northwest bluff, has strung up a series of colorful gasoline canisters over his storefront, where he sells tarantula parts. At dusk, he sets each can on fire, and the burning plastic just melts away spilling down on the people below. [chuckles] Alejandra Salazar, who lives in a cave just to the south base of this mountain, has painted lips and teeth around the entrance to her home! [chuckles] And my favorite holiday decoration this year is (Kunit Jindal’s) smile tree.

Kevin: Ohh!

Lauren: Mm hm, she’s built a 20-foot tall cactus out of human teeth! [chuckles] She even used coyote skins turned inside out to look like flowers.

Kevin: [moved] Ah, I love people’s creativity this time of year! It’s so fun to walk around town and see the night lit up with seasonal joy. To smell the burning petroleum products, to hear the screams and feel the warm fire in the cool dry air.

Lauren: You truly do love the holidays.

Kevin: [coos] Lauren, I think it’s time to tell the story of All Smiles’ Eve!

Lauren: Ye-he-hee, let’s go!

Kevin: Once, there was a family, the Goods, who lived in the desert. Two mothers, a father, a daughter, a son, three dogs, the front half of a cat and a very long house. They were a happy family, but no one knew it. People would often say to them, “You’d be so happy if you just smiled,” but the Good family would always say “We are smiling, we are happy!” It’s just that no one could see their smiles. Their faces always remained in a neutral state. Even the Good family couldn’t tell when each other were smiling. Each one thought the other was unhappy, because none of them had a visible smile. Sometimes the mothers would ask their younger child: “Why are you sad, Felicia?” and Felicia would say: “I am not sad, mothers!” And then Felicia would smile, and her mothers would smile, but none of them appeared to be smiling to each other, and they would all remain sad.

Sometimes the father broke things on purpose, like vases or the children’s toys, or the children’s toy vases, or birds. It brought him great joy breaking things, because it reminded him that he was autonomous. But to the outside eye, it looked like an expressionless man smashing random objects. The older child, Jason, had a piece of lumber he carried around with him always. It was a banister from an old stairwell railing, and he loved it! He had named it Jason also, because it reminded him of himself, and he would dress the stick in similar shirts and pants. Felicia asked him: “Why do you dress like that stick, Jason?” “It makes me happy,” Jason said. “See? See how I smile, sister?” “No,” she said.

Their neighbors and friends wanted the Goods to be happy. And they were. But they could not smile. The Goods though they were smiling, but they were not. No one knew how to solve the problem, because no one knew what the problem was.

Lauren: [sadly] Ohh. This part makes me slightly less happy than I always am.

Kevin: [sadly] Oh yes. When people don’t smile, everyone else has to smile even harder.

Lauren: I can’t wait to hear how the story ends. But now, let’s share some of our favorite holiday dishes!

Kevin: Ooohohohooo!

Lauren: [chuckles] Yeah. I know you all out there are busily preparing your All Smiles’ Day meals. Kevin, what is your favorite dish?

Kevin: Ooo! When I was a boy, my father used to make caramel. He would pour a whole bag of sugar into a large pot and put it over the highest heat. Then he would stir and stir, slowly mixing in heavy cream, until the sugar liquefied and toasted. Then, [coos] as the syrup came to a boil, he would call the kids into the kitchen and we would all open our hands, and he would pour the boiling caramel into our cupped palms! Ooh, it burned our hands so badly, but that was no problem, because we just forced the sweet caramel quickly into our mouths, where it also badly burned our tongues and lips. Ooh! It was one of my happiest memories!

[solemnly] Years later, when I was an adult, I found a starling in a shopping center parking lot. Its head had been crushed by a car tire, and its rear leg was still twitching. I watched it for about… 15 minutes, until it stopped moving.

Lauren: Thanks for that recipe, Kevin! Hah! My favorite holiday dish is radish casserole. It’s really easy to make. You just pull the stems off, then using a peeler you remove the red skin. Then, place the radish in a food processor and blend it until it’s a stiff paste. Pour onto a plate and voilà, ha ha!

Kevin: [solemnly] I still don’t know who killed that starling.

Lauren: Let’s continue with our story of All Smiles’ Eve. The Good family began treating themselves more gently, considering that perhaps they maybe were dealing with something more serious than just a lack of happiness. One mother told the other mother that depression and anxiety are more common than we think, and the other mother said: “We should listen to each other more and try to better understand our pain.” “Pain is something we can all understand,” the father said, and he pointed to the half-cat under the shrubs, which they had adopted last month when they found it decomposing on their lawn. They named the half cat Mr. Doodles. [chuckles] “Awww!” The whole family cooed. “Mr. Doodles!” They all smiled, unnoticeably.

Jason and Felicia wanted their friends to know they were happy, so they began practicing smiling in the mirror, but even they couldn’t see a change in their faces. Plus, mirrors were upsetting because of all the people who would gather behind them in the reflection, that weren’t actually there when they turned around to face them.

But one day, the Good family’s life would change. Because they would meet – the Smiling God!

Kevin: Oooooooooooo-o-o-oo..

Lauren: [laughing hysterically] I know (--)..

Kevin: Laureeeeeeen, I love this part! We’ll be back with more of the story in a moment. But let’s talk about some last minute gift ideas.

Lauren: I know a lot of you out there waited until the last possible moment to buy your All Smiles’ Day gifts. But not to worry, because there are plenty of meaningful gifts you can get right now.

Kevin: You could even make something. People enjoy receiving handcrafted gifts from loved ones. For instance, Lauren, I bought some yarn and then…

Lauren: Aha?

Kevin: Hand-knitted you this sweater?

Lauren: Awww, Kevin!!! [chuckles] It’s beautiful, i-i-it’s covered in… are these worms?

Kevin: Sure are! I bought those at the bait shop.

Lauren: Amazing. And Kevin, I bought you some cologne!

Kevin: I don’t wear cologne.

Lauren: That’s when I bought you cologne. I special ordered it from a parfumerie in Frenchia. It’s called (--) [0:11:05]. I can see by your grin that you love it. I’ll spray some on you.

Kevin: [gleefully] Oh, it burns!!

Lauren: Hahaha! It’s acid.

Kevin: Look at all the little bubbles forming on my wrist! Ah, I can see my veins!

Lauren: Listeners, you may not have time to knit a sweater and staple live worms to it, or special order a foreign cologne…

Kevin: Ooohoohoo..

Lauren: But here are a few ideas to help you out in your last minute gift buying. People love animals. Maybe buy them a dog. Or how about a coupon book full of chores you’ll do for them, like “I’ll clean the dishes for one whole month” or “I’ll beginning you for my life” or “I’ll sharpen your teeth while you sleep.”

Kevin: I’m sure those are great gift ideas, Lauren. I wasn’t listening because my arm hurts so much. Ooh, let’s continue with our story of All Smiles’ Eve.

Lauren: OK.

Kevin: One day, the Good family felt hot. They lived in the desert because they loved feeling hot, so this made them very happy. Their feet burned, they couldn’t hold still, they leapt up and down to keep their feet from being completely scorched, and it looked like a dance. They were joyously happy, they smiled and smiled, but to anyone watching, they looked like the saddest dances ever.

They heard a loud pop, as the sand raound their hoem burst skyward and th Smiling God emerged.

“Iii am the Smiling Goood,” the Smiling God said. And the Good family’s ears began to melt away. They clutched at their heads, screaming. They had never felt so happy.

“Whyy are you not haappyy?” The God asked. “Youu shoould bee happyy!” the God demanded. “We are!” the Good family insisted. “See us smiling?” “Noo!” The God said. “But soon I wi-ill!”

And the Smiling God told them about purity and about devouring. The Smiling God showed the family a PowerPoint presentation on the subject of purity, even though PowerPoint, let alone computers, would not be invented for more than a century. The Good family happily watched the Smiling God’s lecture. They smiled imperceptibly through the whole thing. And the Smiling God grew furious, because it could not see how happy they were. The Smiling God said to the Good family, saying “Behold! You will smile so much, you will never want to stop!”

The Good family said: “We are smiling!” But the Smiling God had already devoured their home in one heaving gulp. All that remained was a smoldering pit and scattered debris. Jason, the boy, found splinters of Jason the stick. Mr. Doodles was now only a fourth of a cat. “Awww,” the whole family cooed, “Mr. Doodles!”

Their long house was a long – pit. And every single mirror in their home was gone, along with the ghastly figures who gathered in the reflections. And the Good family was so happy and so afraid. They concentrated hard on making the biggest smiles they could, but the Smiling God could not see their pure joy on their bland faces.

Lauren: [sadly] Oh! Oh oh oh, I can’t wait to hear the end of this story, Kevin. But for now, let’s get to today’s weather.

[“Fast Talker" by aj & the good intentions]

Lauren: The Good family sifted through the debris of their home, knowing that the Smiling God had purified it for them. It would be difficult to get by without food or shelter or belongings, but they knew purity was all they truly needed to be happy.

But the younger child, Felicia, had seen the face of the the Smiling God, and knew that they had disappointed it. She told Jason that they had to do something, and Jason agreed. Jason set out to find everything in the wreckage that might make them smile. He showed Felicia how the bottom of the pit was all wet and gooey. Her expression did not change. He brought their three dogs around for her to pet, but the poor animals could not stop vomiting. He asked their parents to come, give him and Felicia hugs and tell them that they loved them and that they wanted their children to be happy. “But I am happy,” Felicia protested, and she pointed at her lips. “See?” They did not see.

Felicia lowered her head. She stared at her shoes with their brand new laces, white as the Smiling God’s teeth, not knowing what to do but then, then she saw something interesting under her feet. A framed photograph. She picked it up. The wooden frame was completely torn off one side and the glass was shattered. The photo underneath was discernible, but it had warped and wilted in the heat of the Smiling God’s arrival.

It was a family photo. Mom, Mom, Dad, Jason, three non-vomiting dogs and the front half of a cat. Everyone was smiling, just not visibly of course. Felicia stared lovingly into the frame and it all made sense to her. “We are not smiling!” she shouted. She pulled at the frame, tearing it away, she grabbed at the triangular shards of glass covering the photograph.” [panting] “Well, I’m definitely smiling,” her mother said. “I’m smiling up a storm!” her other mother said. “I’m smiling like a fox in a smile house,” her father said. But no one agreed with anyone. Felicia said: “No you’re not, but you will be.”

Felicia turned her back to them. She lifted her hands to her face and the family photograph fluttered to the earth. Felicia pressed the tip of the glass fragment against her front teeth and pulled sharply back to her right. She felt a warm rush of air across her gums. Her family saw a line of blood flash across the hot stand. She did it again to her left side. Her face hurt with joy, with happiness. She turned around and her family saw that she was smiling from ear to ear. And they wanted to smile that much. They wanted to smile like that and never stop.

Felicia wasn’t concerned that she got blood on her brand new shoelaces. She knew her family was so proud of her smile. “Now I must make all of you happy,” she said. And she did. She chased each of them down one by one, and when she was done, they were all smiling the biggest smiles they had ever smiled, so many teeth in the Good family.

The Smiling God saw all of this and it was honored and pleased, so the Smiling God devoured the entire family and they died.

Kevin: [moved] Oooooooh! What a beautiful story!

Lauren: Yes. Yes. And the souls of that family were so joyous and pure that they still wander our town, with huge toothy grins. And every year, on All Smiles’ Eve, they center the homes of children who do not smile and then they help them smile.

Kevin: It’s a good moral.

Lauren: As children, my siblings and I used to leave a shard of glass and a set of bloody shoelaces just outside our unlocked front door on All Smiles’ Eve to show Felicia that we already knew how to smile.

Kevin: Well! A happy All Smiles’ Eve to everyone in Desert Bluffs 2! May the corners of your mouth be ever-widening.

Lauren: Believe in a Smiling God, my friends!

Kevin: And know that joy is in your teeth.

Lauren: [softly] Good night, Kevin. And good night, Desert Bluffs 2.

Kevin: [softly] Good night!

Today’s proverb: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, now you’re just being an asshole.

[winsister91]

Breaking A Promise

Part Six - The Moment

Summary: Sam decides to use the opportunity, but can only watch in horror. Y/N gets her lead.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, angst, grief, themes of addiction.

Word Count: 2256

A/N: I’m sorry, but I’m a little proud of this one for some reason. @sofreddie can vouch for me when I say how giddy I got when I finished this chapter! I hope you guys like it too ;) I’m thinking there’s one, maybe two parts left! I am going to finish something!!!!!!

Series Masterlist Full Masterlist

~ Series and forever tags are open! ~

(italics are flashbacks)

Sam strains to keep his eyes open. He’d been sat in the Impala all night, watching, waiting. He could see your car parked outside the motel, he’d arrived shortly after the signal from your GPS died. She’s a great hunter, but not so great at covering her tracks. Reckless. Doubly so right now. Part of him understood. She was desperate, hell, he was too. Hence resorting to this. Y/N was his new lead. She had hit rock bottom and he couldn’t pull her back up. So… he thought to use the opportunity. If she can find Dean this way, that means I can too.

Sam had parked the car a couple of streets over, but still with a clear view of the motel. It didn’t take him long to work out which window belonged to you. He didn’t want to know what was going on inside that room. He saw the flashes of purple through the curtains last night, shouting, the words inaudible to him because of the distance, but they sounded full of rage. Then silence. A silence that had persisted all night and into the morning. A silence that was now being broken.

Through the thin curtains, he saw that purple light again. It flashed frequently. Like you were trying a spell over and over again. “Dammit Y/N…” Sam mumbles shaking his head, “I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

He continues to watch, the flashes visible through the curtains growing in intensity and speed. He felt terrible. Guilty. Hoping you weren’t going to fall too far down the rabbit hole. Praying once you found Dean he could save you. Both of you if necessary.

A man catches his eye. A small man with a plump belly and balding head. He marched out of the motel’s reception and straight for your door. The motel manager maybe? It was around about the usual check out time for these kinds of places. He panicked. Chuck only knew what you were doing in that room, and this guy was headed for a ‘wrong place wrong time’ moment of the worst kind. Sam threw the Impala door open and ran.

“Don’t!” he yelled, but the man was already knocking on the door, and you were opening it.

Sam ducked for cover so you didn’t spot him. He was stuck and all he could do was watch with bated breath.

You looked rough. Hair all over the place. Skin pale. Eyes baggy. Yet you smiled. Chatting happily with the man at your door before stepping to one side and inviting him in. Sam wished he could hear what you were saying, nothing good no doubt.

As the door clicked closed behind you both, Sam stepped out from his cover and made a slow cautious approach. He wanted to try and hear what was going on. He kept a hand close to the gun in his jacket, loaded with Witch killing bullets. He didn’t want to use them, but he needed to ensure he had some form of protection against you.

As he stepped into the car park, the shattering of glass attacked his eardrums.

“Shit!” he yelled, now leaping for cover behind a nearby parked truck.

The window of your motel room was in pieces, the man’s body being the catalyst for the destruction. He landed with a hard thud a mere few feet away from Sam. His eyes glazed over and blood oozed from his head onto the hot tarmac.

“Oh god…” Sam panted, wide-eyed. She’s lost it. She’s gone homicidal.

He peeked around the truck only to hastily shift back behind it again. You were marching out of the door, smirking, backpack in hand. You skipped chirpily to your car and climbed inside. The sound of Guns and Roses’ Paradise City blasting from your stereo.

“Take me down, to the Paradise City where the grass is green and the girls are pretty!” Sam heard you shouting cheerfully as the engine revved and you sped from the parking lot.

Once you were out of sight, Sam scurried to the man’s body. Instantly placing two fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. Dead. Sam spotted more blood flowing to the ground, not from the manager’s head, but his wrists. Two large gashes sliced straight across the veins.

“Oh my god…” he mumbled, mortified.

He got to his feet and ran to your room’s door to look inside. It was trashed. A multitude of empty vials scattered across the blood-stained carpet. A huge circular symbol painted on the floor, a bowl full of blood at the centre. Sam narrowed his eyes at the other items in the circle. One of Dean’s shirts. Three photos. One of you and Dean. One of Dean, Bobby and him leaning on the Impala’s hood. The final one of Dean, John, Mary and himself as a baby. All of the pictures were spattered with blood. Sam gritted his teeth and hissed through them, pained at the sight of such precious memories being tarnished by your madness. The fact that you’d left the photos behind too. Is this even about finding Dean to you anymore? Or just an excuse for you to keep taking the blood?

He spotted an open book laid on the bed. Your spellbook. It laid open on a page describing an old blood ritual spell. It was to find lost loved ones. Naturally, for a blood ritual, it required lots of the red stuff. The caster to consume demon’s blood, and a lot of human blood to be spilled.

“That’s why you killed the manager…” Sam mumbled, picking up the book and skim reading the page, “So now… you know where Dean is…”

As Sam turned on his heels, it was only now he noticed red letters, painted in more blood on the wall above the broken window.

Red Dragon Inn. South West.

Fumbling for his phone, Sam quickly searched online. The only Red Dragon Inn he could find that matched the directions was roughly two states over. It was time for another long drive.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Five hours you’d been driving, and your optimism was far from diminished. You did it. You finally had a lead. So sure in your confidence, you didn’t care that you’d left some possessions behind. The spell had lingering effects. Even if Dean had moved on from the bar, you’d be able to track him with a simple sip of blood and concentration. You knew that was unnecessary, you could sense he hadn’t moved. Maybe just one more gulp to be sure.

“IIIIIII, don’t care about anyone else but me,” you hummed happily along with the Drowning Pool song blasting from the old car speakers, “Don’t care about anyone or anything.”

You reached for your trusty bag on the passenger's seat, taking another bottle and emptying it down your throat. Closing your eyes blissfully, you embrace the buzz as it rushes to your head.

“Nearly there baby,” you grinned, turning off the highway and heading into the new unfamiliar town. 

The spell was like an internal GPS. You knew exactly where you were going. You couldn’t believe your luck on this fine day. You were all ready to give up back there at the motel when the spell didn’t work for the fifth time. Then that Motel owner came knocking like some kind of divine gift. Of course, your own blood wasn’t going to work for the spell. It needed human blood. Yours was tainted with that of a demon’s. You wince, briefly checking the wounds on your wrists. They were healing quickly. Your powers, and frequent top-ups of your fix, were speeding the healing along just nicely. You shake your head with a chuckle, thinking back to the joy that hit you when that knock came on the door. When that dumbass showed up, he may as well have had a shiny little bow tied around his neck.

Turning onto a new street, the Red Dragon Inn was in your sights. You grinned gleefully. He was inside. You knew it, you felt it.

All the questionable shit you had done was for this moment. Going back to the coven. Killing Harper. The fire. Hurting Sammy. Ignoring Cas. The Motel guy. Breaking your promise. It was all for Dean.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Dean!” you wailed hysterically as Sam carried his brother’s lifeless body into the bunker, “Dean no!!!!”

It felt like someone had ripped your heart out. Numerous knives jabbing into your guts. Your eyes burnt. Your mouth coated with the salty taste of your tears as they flowed endlessly down your cheeks. “Sammy!! No!” you pleaded with younger brother, “No! Please! Tell me he’s okay.” “Y/N…” Sam stuttered, his own eyes red and blotchy from no doubt many tears, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

You couldn’t form words. Dropping to your knees, you continued to uncontrollably sob. You told him not to go after Metatron. Not alone. To let you or Sam help him. It was the damn mark. Dean had been getting more and more irrational since getting it. He was brutal. More violent than you had ever seen him, and he was shutting everyone out. He shut you out. Shoving you off and lying that everything was OK when it evidently wasn’t. You should have done more. You should have been more forceful. But it was Dean. Your Dean. He said he would always come back for you.

“No no no…” you pulled at your hair, “This can’t be happening…”

Crowley entered the bunker as Sam carried Dean’s body away down the corridor.

“You!” you spat, making a beeline for the King of Hell and shoving him up against the wall, “Fix this! NOW!”

“No can do love,” the demon shrugged, “I’m just here to share my condolences.”

“Son of a bitch,” you punched at his chest, angered by his lack of reactions, “You fucking SON OF A BITCH!”

“Hey hey hey,” Sam said quickly upon re-entering the room, grabbing you from behind and pulling you away, “Y/N please, just try to calm down.”

You began to sob again, clutching at the fabric of Sam’s shirt tightly, burying your head in his chest. You could feel his muscles twitching and convulsing, finding it difficult to hold back tears himself.

“May I see the boy and say my goodbyes?” Crowley’s voice echoed behind you.

“FUCK YOU!!” you screamed, glaring at him with piercing eyes, “You stay away from him!!”

Pushing Sam away from you, you ran down the corridor in search of where he had put Dean. It didn’t take you long to find the open door

There he was. The love of your life. Motionless and bloodied. You felt your stomach churn painfully. Grimacing and averting your eyes before quickly looking back again. You just wanted him to wake up. Any moment now surely he will sit up, tell you to stop being a dramatic jackass and throw his arms around you. Any minute now... “Dean please,” you whimpered, sitting on the mattress next to him and gripping his cold hand, “P-please. Just wake up.”

You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him out of it. You squeezed his hand with all the strength you could muster. You dropped your head to his chest, hopelessness overwhelming you at the lack of heartbeat.

“Dean…” you mumbled, interlocking your fingers between his, “Please… I-I can’t go on without you. I need you…”

“Y/N…” Sam’s voice came from the doorway, his eyes bloodshot as tears stained his cheeks, “He’s gone.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You smirk. He wasn’t gone. You’d found him. One mere crossroad away from the building you knew he was currently sat in. The light turned green and you eagerly slammed a foot on the gas pedal, a beaming smile painted on your face.

A smash into your side. The car flips. You cry out as the car began to roll with a powerful momentum down the street. The sound of metal crunching and glass shattering tore through your eardrums as shards of glass rained over you.

The rolling finally stopped. You could feel a warm stickiness spreading down one side of your face. Your ribs throbbing and stinging as you struggled to breathe. You couldn’t move your legs, they were trapped under the deformed remnants of your car. All sound had ceased apart from this hissing, as oil and steam leaked from the destroyed engine. You couldn’t move at all. Trapped tightly by your seatbelt, as the car laid upside down. You were losing blood fast. Losing power. You attempted to flex your hand out, trying to will the car to move so you could break free. You couldn’t. Blackness descended upon you as your energy and consciousness drained.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Uugh,” you groaned. Everything hurt. Your head throbbed and your vision was a clouded mess. You weren’t in the car anymore. You were in some room. A dark room. You hear footsteps coming towards you. You can’t move your arms, they’re tied down firmly to the arms of a chair, and your feet tied to the legs. Your head felt heavy, you couldn’t find the strength the lift your chin up from your chest. A hand lifted it for you. Now looking up, your eyes finally focused and you were looking into a familiar set of emerald green eyes. That cocky smile. A deep husky voice greeting your ears.

“Hey there Sweetheart,” Dean chuckled, his green eyes flitting to black, “Been looking for me?”

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