#and Dakotas hands would’ve been stained from touching him
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sketch i drew after watching ep 34 that i probably won’t finish
#i wanted to do something with the concept of Dakota saying ‘you will not push me away’#and so this came out#but i wont finish it partly because i went with them hugging instead#Dakota would’ve been in basically all white and will would’ve been in dark blues/black#you can vaguely make out sun markings on Dakotas outfit and moon markings on Williams#for the parallels or whatever…..I don’t even care that much…..#also William would’ve been almost completely stained with blood#and Dakotas hands would’ve been stained from touching him#but overall it felt like i was going too hard with the symbolism so the finished version would feel incomprehensible <- kinda?#idk. i got too silly.#but i pulled up actual models online for this and I still like how it looks even now#so here ^^#mart
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Set Yourself On Fire
Word Count: ~1550
Warnings: Depression and suicidal thoughts. No, seriously, this is not a happy fic. It centers on Sam and his mental state between seasons three and four, so. Yeah. Demon blood, sad Sam, self-loathing, etc. Some mentions of Sam x Ruby, but the pairing is not the point.
A/N: For @idreamofplaid‘s “Thanks For The Memories” Challenge. My episode was “I Know What You Did Last Summer.”
I snagged bits from a drabble I wrote called “Might As Well,” which was about this same time in Sam’s life, and worked them into this.
Thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67 and @fookinghelljensensthighs for read-throughs, and to @stunudo, @thoughtslikeaminefield, and @lastactiontricia, who helped me work through the fine points of the psychology that was going on here.
Title from the Stars song Your Ex-Lover Is Dead: “When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.”
The whiskey stings when Sam splashes it over the cut on his arm. It’s a good kind of pain, blindingly sharp and clean, and for a moment it takes his mind off the slimy ache in his chest and the filthy squirming guilt in his gut.
Dean’s looking at him again, searching and suspicious.
“Why do you trust her so much?” he asks, and Sam doesn’t want to meet his eyes.
“I told you.”
“You got to do better than that. Hey, I’m not trying to pick a fight here. I mean, I really want to understand. But I need to know more. I mean, I deserve to know more.”
He does. Dean deserves that and so much better.
Sam tilts the bottle again, watching the booze wash away the blood as it burns him clean, and he takes a sip, as if that’ll do the same thing to the ugly wound in his chest. There isn’t enough whiskey in the world to sanitize his insides.
He knows he can’t tell the whole truth, but Dean deserves to know more. The question is, where does he start?
He could start with the moment the dirt closed over the grave. Sam, Bobby had said, so quietly. Sam, don’t. And it was funny, how much Sam had always wanted that; he always wanted a father figure who would ask him to stay. I can’t, he told Bobby, and he lurched away, staggered to the car, started driving.
He can’t tell Dean about the days that followed, because he doesn’t remember much of them. Two, three, maybe four days slipped away while he hid in a shitty motel, drinking, and the memories that remain are disjointed flashes in his mind: the ugly floral duvet under his cheek as he collapsed face-first into the bed, the cold white bathroom tiles and the bruises they left on his knees, a ceiling fan distorted through salt-swollen eyes as he watched it spinning lazily overhead, the taste of bile, the blood on his knuckles, the broken shard of mirror that he picked up and turned over in his hands for longer than he’ll ever admit.
No. He can’t start there.
“She saved my life,” he says hoarsely, and Dean waits while Sam tries to find the words.
He still hears John, sometimes: Why are you crying? Be strong. Be brave. Get over yourself. Other people got it a lot worse, y’know. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.
He’s gotten better at ignoring John’s voice, over the years, but it’s harder to ignore his memories of Dean. Dean blinking back tears, forcing a smile. It’s going to be okay, Sammy. I’m fine, Sammy, don’t worry about me. He’s always wanted to be like his big brother, and his big brother wouldn’t let himself wallow the way Sam had. His big brother would’ve found a way to fight back.
The crossroads demon had been his only real hope.
Just take me. It’s a fair trade.
The worst part was, that no didn’t really surprise him. Of course his life wasn’t worth the same as Dean’s. Of course it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough, to save his brother the way Dean had saved him.
Sam wasn’t sure who he was without Dean, without a mission, without anything to hold onto.
He’d gotten in the car and started driving. He thought about heading West, out to the cliffs and curves of Highway One; the guardrail was so flimsy, and the Pacific would be steely-grey and welcoming. He thought about heading East, all the way to Maine; the shoreline was rocky and rough, and the crabs would find his body. He could go to Florida, drive into a swamp, let the muck swallow him slowly. He could go to the Dakotas, drive out into the desert, park there and wait, and the vultures would descend eventually. He wondered if anyone would notice that he was gone.
He can’t tell Dean that.
So he doesn’t tell Dean about the directionless days. He starts with the day Ruby found him.
He doesn’t tell Dean about the relief he felt, when he thought Ruby was going to kill him. He doesn’t tell Dean about the cold crush of disappointment in his chest when she stabbed the demon instead.
He tells Dean about her new body, “100% socially conscious.” He tells Dean about the plan to find Lilith: “I wanted to go right away.”
Sam had asked, What do you want from me?
A little patience. And sobriety.
Sobriety made it harder to sleep, and insomnia made it even harder to remember what was real. He didn’t feel real. He felt like a faded, dull husk of a person, a sunbleached copy of a photograph instead of a breathing human with a heartbeat. Ruby told him to use his strength, but he didn’t have anything left.
Sam didn’t much care if he died, and some days he wasn’t even sure he was still alive.
He can’t tell Dean that.
He sees the way Dean looks at him sometimes. He sees the exhaustion in Dean’s eyes, the worry flickering behind that, and Sam doesn’t want to add to the weight on his big brother’s shoulders.
Ruby said, Just give it time, Sam. It'll get better. I'm not talking about pulling demons. I know losing Dean was…
I don't want to talk about it.
The anger tasted ashy in his mouth. It burned, but in a purifying way, like a forest fire clearing the land for new growth. The anger helped him focus. He balled his hands into fists, imagined punching her, imagined that pretty face swollen and bleeding.
He doesn’t tell Dean about that.
You know what? Where do you get off slapping me with that greeting-card, time-heals crap? What the hell do you know? I used to be human. And I still remember what it feels like to lose someone. I'm sorry.
He almost did punch her, at that.
When she kissed him, it was Dean’s voice in the back of his head saying, this is wrong. He shoved her away.
“I knew it was wrong,” Sam confesses, and he can’t meet Dean’s eyes. “But…”
He didn’t care, in the moment. It was his brother’s opinion that had always mattered; he always wanted to make Dean proud. But Dean was dead, and Sam had been drifting for so long, and Ruby’s skin was warm and soft and real under his hands.
It was more like a battle than a kiss. It was teeth and claws, ripping each other apart, but every bite and every scratch felt like a reminder that Sam was still alive.
“Sam?” Dean snaps. “Too much information.” And there it is, there’s the disgust Sam knew was coming. Dean’s lip curls and Sam feels like a child again, clumsy and stupid next to his strong, steady anchor of a big brother.
The half-truth sits uncomfortably in his throat, and Sam has to work to get it past his lips: “I’m coming clean.”
There’s something monstrous inside him, something warped and wrong. There’s always been something wrong with him.
He thinks of the vial in his pocket, the burst of copper on his tongue like a mushroom cloud, the silent dare in Ruby’s big dark eyes and the way she sighs when he slices her open. It burns a little hotter every time he drinks, and he must be charred and black inside by now.
He hasn’t felt clean for a long time.
That’s the thing about fire, though; it cleanses, purifies, and maybe he’ll burn up hot enough to take Lilith with him someday. Self-immolation seems inevitable, at this point. His life doesn’t mean much, but maybe his death will.
“Pretty soon after that,” Sam says, “I put together some signs. Omens. Lilith was in town, and I wanted to strike her first.” Ruby had looked so goddamn concerned, when she realized, and Sam had hated her for it. You don’t want to survive this. This isn't what Dean would've wanted. This isn't what he died for.
“She came after me,” Sam says. “She saved me.”
He hesitates.
He doesn’t tell Dean about the blood.
Sam remembers the night after that failed attack. He remembers watching Ruby cut herself for the first time: his stomach roiling and his skin crawling, the blood welling up and beading into shiny pearls of red. He imagined it sliding down his throat and staining his guts that same dark crimson.
He doesn’t tell Dean about the way it sizzled on his lips, crackled and sparked inside him, lit him up in a whole new way. He doesn’t tell Dean about the next demon, the way the black oily smoke poured out all at once, faster than he’d ever seen it leave a human before, and the way his veins sang with the power.
He doesn’t tell Dean about the too-hot shower afterward, when the fizz was long gone and he scrubbed himself raw trying to get rid of the itch that it left behind.
He didn’t like the way he felt with Ruby, but at least he felt something again.
“If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here,” he tells Dean quietly.
He doesn’t ask, Do you regret dying for me? Was I worth it?
He’s not sure he could live with the answer.
.
.
.
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Time
Colt x MC (Ellie)
Warnings: Language, NS*W, Over 18
Inspired by this song
To say Colt was stressed would be the understatement of the century. It had only been six months since his father gave his life to save Colt's. He and Ellie had been on the move almost as long, this being the second apartment they had shared in the second different state. He was still working his way through the brotherhood, Shaw being taken care of in prison, he had found Wallace in North Dakota and taken him out, now all that was left was Hester and whatever low life cronies she had still hanging around.
Ellie had been forced to do online college, she refused to leave Colt to this by himself. She wouldn't tell him, but she was too afraid he'd forget about her and just never come back. She had fallen in love with Colt Kaneko, the softer side of Colt only she got to see, although it had been some time since that Colt had shown his face. They were fighting a lot, she wasn't happy and she worried he didn't care. She had told him she loved him, was in love with him, wanted this with him so many times she'd lost count. Colt refused. He wouldn't acknowledge any type of feelings.
"I just want to go to dinner Colt, please. Just one dinner? We haven't been out since we left California, we're in Arizona, surely we're safe enough to go grab a bite to eat? I just want to feel normal for a little while." She was pleading, her heart physically hurting from trying to convince him. Convince him of dinner, of loving her, of showing any kind of emotion besides anger, she didn't like this Colt. She knew he didn't like this Colt either, how could he? She had seen his true nature, this was fight or flight Colt.
Running his fingers roughly through his hair he let out a loud sigh, "I told you no? What part of that is so fucking hard to understand?" She blanched at the tone in his voice and he regretted it but the word vomit wouldn't stop. "If you didn't want this life you should've went to your precious Langston and fucking forgot this bad boy fantasy, you wanted the bad boy but now that you've got him it doesn't seem so poetic does it El?" He spat, getting louder and pressing his chest to hers, looking down at her.
He could see the tears pooling in her eyes, lip trembling as she tried to hold it together. But he couldn't stop. She reached her hand up to touch his cheek, a sign of affection and love and to anchor her before she fell. He grabbed her wrist tightly, eyes like steel before he released her when he saw the first tear fall.
"I just want to f-feel like... y-you don't hate me Colt...that's all. You don't have to l-love me, but why do y-you hate me?" She stammered out between her tears and shaking sobs, blue eyes locked on his brown. He could see how much she was hurting, but he was hurting too. Didn't she know that? How could she expect him to love her when he fucking hated himself.
"Maybe I should hate you Ellie. It'd sure as hell make it easier on everybody." He held eye contact with her until she let out a shuddering sob, turning to run into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her. He could hear her crying, it only served to fuel his anger. At himself, at his dad, at the brotherhood...they were the reason he was in this mess, why they were in this mess.
Pounding on the door he shouted "I'm gone El, I'm leaving. You can go to dinner by yourself if you want to be normal so bad."
"I fucking hate you!" She screamed through tears, running hot down her face as she burrowed back into the pillows. Shaking from her sobs, she had never felt so worthless. They had fought, boy had they fought, but this felt different. She didn't hate him, not at all, but she hated the way he was acting lately.
His heart skipped a beat, face falling for a moment as he stared at the door. She couldn't hate him, could she? She was the only one he wanted to love him...his face grew tense with anger. Storming out the front door and slamming it behind him hard enough he wished he would've broke the fucking hinges. Stomping to the elevator and riding it to the bottom floor, pushing out into the city to clear his head.
He wandered to a bar, ordering 6 shots of tequila to take the edge off of this shitty night. A petite blonde wandered over, long hair pulled over one shoulder and pouty lips, brown eyes below her lashes that she was batting at him. "Hi stranger, order a pretty girl a drink?" She ran a finger along the length of his arm and he felt...nothing.
"Do you have a problem buddy? That's my girl you're sizing up!" A brawny man who stood maybe 5'11 on a good day, walked up behind the blonde, throwing his arm around her shoulders.
"She walked up to me buddy, maybe you should take it up with her." Colt rolled his eyes, taking another shot and ignoring the glare the man was giving him.
The man shoved Colt from behind, making him spill his last shot on his leather jacket. Standing abruptly he reared back and punched the man square in the teeth, watching as he recoiled and spat blood, the girl staring wide eyed at the display.
"Out! GET OUT! No fighting in this bar!" The bartender came waving his hands at them, "Get out of my bar before I call the cops!"
Dropping some money on the bar Colt headed back out, turning down a side alley and sitting down on a stoop out back of a store. Placing his elbows on his knees he leaned forward and rested his head in his palms.
Have I gone too far? No, not far enough. I want them all dead. But at what cost? Do I love Ellie? She's been there for me through everything since I've been back, she confided in me her secrets, she gave me the gift of her...all of her...she trusted me...what have I done.
He ran out of the alley, hailing a cab to get back to the apartment quicker. Pulling up in front of the building he shoved some money through the slot in the taxi divider and ran inside. Once he made it to their apartment he stopped, staring at the door and hearing in his mind the conversation that had taken place before he stormed off like a coward.
Turning the key in the lock he walked in, gently closing it behind him and walking in, looking around for any sign of Ellie. The bedroom door was still closed, he hoped she was still in there and she hadn't packed up and left. Trying the handle he found it was still locked, reaching up he grabbed the key on the door frame before opening the door and seeing her laying on the bed.
Her tear stained face, cheeks red and eyes puffy, she still looked like an angel. Why the fuck did I say that shit to her? Look at her, she fucking loves me and I tried to break her. What is wrong with me?
He walked around to the opposite side of the bed, sitting with his back pressed against the pillows and legs laid out in front of him. She stirred slightly feeling the bed dip, but he reached out to pull her to him and her eyes snapped open. What he saw in them broke his heart. Fear. She's afraid of me. What a fucking monster, I've become just like him. A tear broke free from his eye and her eyes softened on him, turning so she could wipe the tears from his face. He looked between her eyes for a moment before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest.
She wrapped her arms around him, placing her head over his heart and listening to the beat. She rubbed soothing circles with her thumbs over his side and nuzzled in closer to him. "Colt, I'm so-" he lifted her face up pressing a kiss to her lips before she could finish.
"No El, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't mean any of that shit I said to you, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You're the only thing that keeps me sane in this hell bent quest I'm on. You're my entire world Ellie and I'm so sorry I didn't have the balls to tell you." He tilted her chin up, brown eyes meeting blue, "Ellie, I love you. I am so fucking in love with you it hurts." He watched as the tears pooled in her eyes and she lunged forward connecting their lips in a passionate kiss.
He laid her back on the bed, kissing down her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder, she leaned forward so he could pull her shirt over her head before discarding his own. He kissed one nipple, roving over it with his tongue, placing a soft kiss to the hardened nub before giving the other the same attention. He sat back on his haunches, pulling her shorts and underwear down at the same time, looking lovingly over her body.
"You're so beautiful El, so beautiful baby." He kissed her hip bone, sucking a little mark there for their eyes only. Gently spreading her legs and licking a slow stripe between her folds, kissing her bundle of nerves before sucking it between his lips. He loved the way she writhed beneath him, she had always been so expressive and it was such a turn on. Moaning and running her fingers through his hair, arching her back to get the perfect angle before he added two fingers to her dripping slit. Pumping them slowly and crooking them just the way only he knew she liked. She was quickly falling apart for him, moaning and panting his name like she needed it to breathe.
She pulled on his hair and he obliged, rising to kiss her and let her taste herself on his tongue. "I love you too Colt." She smiled warmly at him, reaching down to undo the button on his jeans. Tucking her toes into the waistband and pushing them and his boxers down. He laughed, he loved it when she did dorky shit like that. She was the most precious girl he had ever met and he was damn sure not going to let her doubt that ever again. She cupped his cheek in her hand, wrapping her legs around his waist as he turned his head to kiss the inside of her palm.
"Always, Ellie." He kissed her gently as he entered her, pausing only a moment for her to adjust before he started thrusting gently. Keeping a steady pace, pulling out to the tip before driving back into her. She rolled her hips to match his pace, moaning into his neck as she marked him for the world to see.
"Colt, baby I'm close" she panted, arching her back to get the friction she desired.
"Look at me El, let me see those blues." She locked eyes with him as she came undone for the second time. Mouth falling open to form the perfect "O" before biting her bottom lip as she writhed beneath him. A few more pumps was all it took for him to follow right behind her, filling her with his milky seed and kissing her lovingly.
He rolled to lay beside her, pulling her into his side and running his hand up and down the small of her back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner Ellie. I was a coward and an asshole, you deserve so much better than what I've given you."
She placed her hand on his cheek, turning his head to look at her as she spoke. "I don't want so much better, I just want the Colt I know and love. You're all I want Colt." She smiled, pressing her lips to his before curling into his side again.
Colt pulled the blanket up over them and laid there peacefully, smilingly at the ceiling.
Thanks pop. For giving me time.
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Blood Candy: Chapter 10
(POV Switch: Dakota)
I walked down the empty, dim hall, catching my breath as I silently thanked Kaveri for saving my life. Akira and Oliver should be okay, I figured, but then I remembered something...
“This hospital is one of the main headquarters of Clueham’s top vampire guild,” Kaveri explained earlier. How did she know all of this? If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve said she was a conspiracy theorist, too, and that’s the real reason Akira and Kaveri stopped talking. Rival conspiracy theorists were a thing, right?
Focus, Dakota! I thought to myself. You have a raging redhead vampire to find. But...where even was Seb?
The video Oli showed us had Seb in Jasper’s office...but I didn’t know where that was.
As I ran down the hall looking for Seb, I saw two “doctors” wearing surgical masks wheeling two patients on stretchers past me on both sides. Though the patients’ bodies were mostly covered, I still had enough information as to just how screwed I actually was.
In the precious few seconds I had to look at the two patients, I noticed only two things—the bite marks on their sickly pale necks, and the police caps resting over their faces. For a moment I was confused--then I drew my attention back to the police caps as the “patients” were wheeled away.
It can’t be...I thought. I wasn’t certain, but I did have a very bad feeling as to who those cops were.
“I called the police station for updates on the investigation,” my mom messaged me earlier. “They said that they’re gonna have to put it on hold for right now; they haven’t heard back from the officers that came by the house last night, so they’re trying to get in touch with them.”
Of course it was, I thought. It had to be. Like Jasper said, he couldn’t let anything happen to his new ‘colleague.’
This can’t go on like this. I have to snap Sebs out of this...trance...as soon as possible.
Against my better judgment, I aimed for the risky--yet probably more efficient--solution:
“SEBS!” I yelled, my voice bouncing off the walls. “WHERE ARE YOU?!”
I peered inside the glass windows of some of the rooms, thinking Seb must be hiding in there. Finally, I came to one of the rooms towards the end of the hall. The lights were shut off, but there appeared to be a figure sitting down--presumably dead or asleep--in one of the chairs. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see into the dark past my own reflection...when a blade was suddenly held to my throat.
I froze.
I turned around slowly, to find Seb with his black jacket, spiraling eyes, and the most malicious grin I have ever seen on his face.
“Look, buddy,” I said with feigned confidence, “you really don’t have to do this. I’m your friend. We know how this goes, we’ve both seen movies--you actually do try to kill me, then some rousing heartfelt speech or lovely memories of the time we spent together suddenly pops into your head and then you revert back to normal, then we can all go home and--”
Seb buried the knife into my shoulder. I cried out in pain, clutching my shoulder as I fell on my knees.
“...guess that’s out of the question…” I said. I watched in disgust as he went to lick the knife again, looking me square in the eyes as if to say, “this is who I am now.”
Then he stopped himself, shaking his head, and pocketing the knife into a sheath. The sheath had red, glowing markings when the knife was inserted in, and when he pulled it back out, the markings faded and the blades were completely clean.
What weird alien technology were these vampires using? I thought. If all of us manage to live through this experience somehow, then AkiSeb is gonna have one hell of a conspiracy.
I stood up, holding onto my bleeding shoulder.
“Why are you doing this, dude?” I asked. “You don’t have to listen to them. We’ve been friends for ages.”
Seb just gave me a blank stare, then smiled. He started to giggle, then gave me a chilling answer—or a question, rather:
“You believe me now...don’t you?”
And with that, he struck me with the blade again.
Or he would have, had I not grabbed the blade with my hand itself.
Counterproductive, yes, and my hand hurt like the devil, but it was either this or the blade goes into my neck.
“You know what?” I hissed, “fine. If you don’t want to listen, then I’ll make you listen.”
I punched Seb across the face. He let go of the knife and held on to his face. I took this opportunity to go for the knife--but Seb stomped on my hand without looking, bruising my ring and pinky fingers.
Fortunately, that wasn’t even my good hand.
As I recoiled away from the blow, Seb grabbed the knife. I rammed him into the opposite wall, but he kicked me backwards. My head banged into the glass, leaving cracks in it. He then threw the knife at me, but I managed to move out of the way in time, just as the knife landed right in the center of where I had banged my head on the glass. I stared at the knife in horror, thanking every god in the pantheon that I was even alive right now.
My prayers were interrupted when Seb grabbed my neck and threw me to the floor, pressing my head against the ground as he prepared to sink his small fangs in the exposed area of my neck. I kicked at Seb, punched him with my good arm, spat in his face, whatever I could do to get him off of me. But he was relentless. His bloodlust had consumed him completely. And with each time I tried to resist, his small grew closer and closer to my neck.
I almost wanted to give in. I almost wanted him to just get it over with already. I was human; he was a vampire. I was weaker than him.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps storming down the hall. I fought against Seb harder, but he seemed to gain a sudden boost in strength. He even risked a temporary glance in the direction of the storming footsteps--which I could only pray belonged to a potential savior.
Finally, he head-butted me, then took the opening I had left to sink his fangs into my neck. I screamed in pain, pushing Seb backwards—and into a sharp, wooden rod.
Kaveri had just come up behind him and staked him through the heart.
“SEBASTIAN!” I cried as he rolled off of me. “Kaveri, what the hell?!”
Kaveri looked up at me with furious eyes.
“He was trying to hurt you,” she said in a broken voice. “I had to.”
I had so many words I wanted to say to her…to Seb��but my words got caught in my throat. I collapsed to my knees near Seb, searching in his eyes for any signs of life. The peppermint swirl in his eyes slowed to a halt. His mouth gaped open slightly, just wide enough so I could see that his fangs had retracted.
His vampire side was gone.
But so was his human side.
I only came to this realization after spending who-knows-how-long screaming and crying and shaking my friend’s lifeless body, begging for him to wake up. Kaveri pulled me upwards, telling me to let go, he was gone, there’s nothing we can do, I had to, I’m sorry, please forgive me…
But I couldn’t. I had to, but I couldn’t. She saved me...and ruined my life. I turned around to face her, still on my knees.
Through my clouded vision, I could see nothing but the indigo mass of Kaveri’s sweater and the blood stained on her stake.
Seb’s blood.
I wiped my eyes, looking back at my fallen friend’s body. I stared into his lifeless eyes, the peppermint spiral fading. My breath quickened, my heart raced, as I realized…
“You lied to me,” I said, looking up at my best friend’s murderer.
“How?” she asked.
“You said you would help me.”
“I also said that if you didn’t want him to be a vampire, you’d have to kill him. Pretty sure the first thing you’d wish for in that kind of situation is for him not to be a vampire.”
“I don’t care if he’s a vampire,” I hissed, standing up. “I care if he’s my friend.”
“He tried to kill you!” Kaveri cried.
“You said you would save him!”
“I had no CHOICE, Dakota!”
“You did and you chose to KILL HIM.” I found myself storming towards her.
“Get a hold of yourself,” Kaveri said, pointing the bloody stake at me.
I knocked the stake out of her hand.
“I’m gonna need that, y’know,” she said. She picked it up and put it in her sheath. “Please...I know you hate me right now, but unfortunately, you kind of need me to defeat Jasper.” She gestured to the bloody stake. “Unless you want it, of course.”
I shot a glare at her.
“Fine,” I said. “After this, I never want to see you again.”
Kaveri just shrugged.
“Deal,” she said. “Let’s just get this over with.”
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The crash/chapter two
Chapter one
Chapter two: I’ll stomp your ass
Info: Glenn, Rick, Daryl and Dakota go on a trip to save Merle.
Warnings: swearing, blood
“Nothin I haven’t seen before. Gotta get that crystal before ya kill yourself”
I nodded knowing that was the truth. As Glenn and Rick got in the truck, Shane closed the back on us. Leaving a long hot car ride into Atlanta together with a redneck, cop, an Asian and meth head.
“He better be okay” Daryl threatened Rick “It’s my only word on the matter”
“T-dog said he padlocked it and only we can get through that” Rick spoke.
Daryl wiped his mouth and shot a death glare at Rick. The breaks squealed and engine stopped rumbling.
“We can walk from here” Glenn spoke.
Daryl hopped up and opened the back of the truck. He jumped out and I followed suit, shutting the door behind me. We ran across the train tracks into the city where Merle was left.
We climbed through a hole in a chain link fence into an underpass of a bridge ahead.
“Merle or guns first?” Rick asked as Daryl was climbing through the fence.
“Merle” We both said simultaneously.
“We ain’t even having this conversation” Daryl continued to speak as he walked past Rick.
“We are” Rick said and turned to Glenn “You know the geography, it’s your call, Glenn”
“Merle’s closest, guns would be us doubling back. Merle first” Glenn explained as we jogged further into the city.
We walked through the lower level of the department store. Keeping quiet and staying low. The store had barely been touched aside from the shattered windows. Rick signaled to Daryl about a walker lingering. He quickly moved, but was still quiet, up behind the lone walker.
“Damn, you are on ugly skank” He mumbled as he raised his crossbow, firing an arrow right through its’ skull.
He retrieved the arrow, wiping the blood on his pants.
“It’s the end of the world and still disrespecting women” I said as I walked past him “She wasn’t even alive for Gods sake”
“Don’t matter what I call em’, they’re dead” Daryl scoffed.
We ran up a stairwell after clearing an alley. I ran ahead with wire cutters and Daryl was a close second. I broke though the chain and Daryl kicked the door open.
“Merle! Merle!” He yelled as he ran out onto the roof.
I followed behind just to see nothing. Daryl packed back and forth as he shouted in disbelief. A bloody saw, amputated hand and pair of bloody handcuffs was all that was left. Fresh crimson pooled and stained the ground below. I stared in shock while I shook my head.
“No! No!” Daryl yelled in the background.
It felt like my world was coming down. Daryl lost his brother but I felt even deeper sorrow, I lost my drugs, they were my family and friends.
“Fuck!” I shouted and kicked the pipe on the roof and the handcuffs rattled against it.
I turned to Rick with anger. I could feel my face turning red.
“You locked him up here, alone! With no weapons!?” I yelled as I came at him “Now he’s gone, fuck you, fuck you! He’s gone” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I felt myself being pulled back but I thrashed against that force. I soon realized Daryl was pulling me away.
“Fuck you, officer Grimes!”
“Calm down!” Daryl yelled “W-we’ll find him. I swear to ya”
I calmed down and he let me go. I turned to him and looked him in the eyes.
“You don’t find him and I swear to fucking God I’ll murder you when that crash kicks in. You find him or you find his stash” I spoke dead serious.
“You got a cloth or anything?” Daryl asked Glenn, ignoring my threat.
Glenn handed him a blue bandanna. He walked to the hand and crouched down.
“Saw blade too dull for the handcuffs” He picked up the hand by a finger “Ain’t that a bitch” He grimaced.
He stood and placed the hand in Glenns bag while he looked uncomfortable. Daryl returned and picked up his crossbow.
“Must’ve used his belt to tie off his arm, would’ve been more blood if not” He commented while following a trail of blood.
I followed as well as Rick, Glenn stayed behind to pick up the tool box. We moved into a stairwell on the opposite side of the roof. Daryl led us, crossbow raised calling out his brothers’ name. Rick had his Colt Python in hand and I carried whatever gun I had picked up a while back.
“Merle! Ya in here?” Daryl yelled and no response followed.
Out of the stairwell we landed in an office of some sort. One lingering walker, no lower jaw, turned to us slowly. Daryl shot her down in one strike, only walking to her to get his bow. Rick cleared through another entrance as Glenn caught up with us. We all met back up shortly in another part of the office. Two dead walkers laid on the ground.
“Had enough in him to take out these two” Daryl commented walking over the bodies “One handed” He changed positions to load his bow “Toughest asshole I met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he’d crap out nails”
“Any man can pass out from blood loss no matter how tough” Rick said as he walked past Daryl and then taking lead of the group.
More blood led into a kitchen.
“Merle!” Daryl yelled.
“We aren’t alone, asshole” I spoke.
“Screw that” Daryl brushed it off.
In the kitchen, stove burners were left on with the flames out. Blue flame turned into a yellow at the top. Blood on the stove, dripping onto the oven and on the counters. Smelled like burning flesh, reasons I knew brought back the past but that was over now. Rick picked up an iron with flesh remains and blood on it.
“What’s that burned stuff?” Glenn asked naively.
“Skin” I responded.
“He cauterized the stump” Rick noted.
“Told ya he was tough” Daryl remarked, sadness in his eyes finally breaking the tough front he had going “Nobody can kill Merle but Merle”
“He’s lost a lot of blood, don’t count on that”
“Yeah? Strong enough to bust out of this death trap” Daryl spoke walking away leading us to a broken window.
“He left?” Glenn asked in disbelief “Why the hell would he do that?”
“Why wouldn’t he. He’s alone as far as he knows, doing what he’s gotta do, surviving”
“Call that surviving? What are his odds out there?”
“No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot” I mumbled.
“You couldn’t kill him” Daryl spoke now inches away from Rick “Ain’t so worried about some dumb dead bastard”
“What about a thousand dumb dead bastards? Different story?” Rick responded.
“Why don’t ya take a tally? Do what ya want, I’m gonna go get him”
Daryl continued past Rick and towards the window but Rick stopped him with his hand to Daryls’ chest.
“Get ya hands off me! You can’t stop me” Daryl shouted getting in Ricks’ face again.
“I don’t blame you, he’s family. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel”
“You know a brothers need to find his other half? A druggies tweak for another batch? You know that feelin?” Daryl spat.
I shifted from one foot to another trying to keep my cool at Daryls’ reference to my drug habit. Didn’t help as Glenn looked back at me, either because he knew or he saw me move.
“Just, listen, he can’t get far with that injury. We can help check a few blocks but only if you keep a level head” Rick turned to me “You too”
“I could do that” Daryl spoke after a brief pause and then turned to me.
I looked at Rick, I didn’t want to give in but Daryl did. I looked back at Daryl. I nodded in the end.
“Guns first though, as a precaution” Glenn spoke.
We settled into another room and cleared to floor. Glenn opened the cap of a dry erase marker ready to draw a map. Rick and Daryl were off to the side, Glenn and I waiting for their attention to start.
When they joined us he started.
“If I’m alone, I can move fast. In a group, we’re slow and drawing attention” He spoke.
He placed a binder clip on a road.
“That’s the tank, five block from here”
He then placed a balled up piece of paper near it.
“That’s the bag of guns. There’s the alley I dragged you in when we first met, that’s where Daryl and I will go”
“So I’m with Rick?” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
“Listen, Daryls’ crossbow is quieter than a gun” He clarified why.
He then placed a soda tab in that alley.
“This is Daryl, he’ll wait in the alley while I go and grab the bag”
“Dakota and I are where?” Rick asked.
“Yeah, you’ll be here” He dropped down a pink eraser.
“Two blocks away, why?” I asked.
“I may not be able to go back the same way, walkers can cut me off and I can’t get to Daryl. So I’d go forward instead to the alley to meet you guys. Whichever direction I go, I got you three to cover me. Then we all meet back here”
“Hey, kid, what’d you do before all this?” Daryl asked.
“Delivered pizzas, why?”
“You’re smart” I commented.
Daryl took the little time we took as a break to sit next to me. Rick and Glenn sat near a window, looking into the city further going over the plan.
“You got china man and I got sheriff. This isn’t fair” I scoffed.
“Don’t matter, we want Merle back, right?”
“Yeah” I nodded with a half smile.
“It’ll be over before you know it. Just, do what he says”
“Merle has that blue sky” I whispered as to keep myself focused.
As Rick and I waited in our alley, there was a commotion. Rick wanted to wait it out but I went and looked instead. it was where Glenn and Daryl were posted up. Gun shots and yelling.
“Shit” I mumbled.
Rick and I ran through back alleys, past walkers in the main street. I prayed that Daryl was okay. When we arrived, Daryl had a scrawny teen pressed against a wall and Rick has to push Daryl off the boy.
“I’m gonna kick your nuts up in ya throat!” Daryl yelled.
“Daryl!” I shouted in an attempt to bring him back down.
“What happened here!” Rick shouted tersely.
“They took Glenn. That little bastard and his bastard homie friends. I’m gonna stomp your ass!” Daryl explained.
“I got the boy, you get the guns, please” Rick told me with a hand on my shoulder.
“Yeah” I nodded.
I went back and grabbed the bag. I turned around and Daryl was waiting to make sure I was good. I hadn’t eaten, drank or really slept more than 5 hours in a few weeks. I was running out of energy and he knew it. From times I had crashed at the Dixons’ house and also with his brothers own addiction.
I nodded to let him know I was fine and we kept going to the office. When we got there Daryl pulled me aside.
“You, sleep, Rick and I will talk to this kid and get you when there’s a plan. Gonna need some energy for this” Daryl took the bag of guns from me.
“Thanks” I smiled.
He nodded as I left to find an empty sofa. Made myself comfortable and slept.
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