#and then motivation came out of nowhere with a steel chair. knocked me down and took over my life again

[eskawrites]

the funniest part of the celebrity fake dating au is that dustin spent years teasing robin and steve for being blatantly in love, when in reality anyone with eyes could have seen that robin and nancy were head over heels for each other the entire time

[fablesrose]

Tell Me a Story 1

Description: The local mafia has served Y/n well previously, but with the way things are going now, enough is enough. Instead of getting out, why not take everything down? So she makes a few calls, but things don’t always go to plan.

Word count: 2,205

Pairing: cop!Dean x mafia!reader

Square filled: fake dating

Warnings: none this chapter

Masterlist ~ Bingo Masterlist

Remaining parts will be in the Bingo Masterlist

A/n: This is for @girl-next-door-writes‘s Make Me Feel Bingo. I wanted to write a specific scene and then made a whole AU in order for this to work and it became infinitely more complicated than it needed to be. Enjoy! 

“Tell me a story.”

Chuck was a dangerous man. He didn’t look it, but he had an eye and a leash where you would never expect it all over the city. No one knew what he wanted, what his end goal was, maybe that was what made him dangerous.

Those words made me nervous. Chuck loved a good story and if the man next to me didn’t tell one up to his standard, then it wouldn’t end well for either of us.

This was all my idea. It was me who got the cops involved. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sam, I know you don’t want to hear from me, but-”

“What do you need?”

“The Fallen isn’t doing too hot right now.”

“I can help you get out Y-”

“It’s not as simple as when you slipped between the cracks Sam,” I hissed at him through the phone. I don’t know why I even tracked him down, he had a good life now, but I needed to do something.

“Simple? You know it wasn’t simple.” Sam sounded offended.

“Exactly. It wasn’t when you did it, and like Hell is it simple now. It’s a thousand times worse in every way since you left. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go.”

“Okay, fine, we’ll figure something out.”

“Thanks- Someone’s coming, don’t contact me in any way for at least four days. You know the drill.” I hung up the phone and went on my daily business.

Four days later I received a text with a phone number in it, “He’s clean. He’ll help.”

I saved the number in my phone and deleted the conversation. I had to tread lightly.

I tried to control my anxiety. If I was found out I wouldn’t be surprised if Chuck burned the whole city to the ground.

So needless to say I did a fantastic job of hiding my anxiety.

Eventually, when I was sure that I was alone I pulled up the number Sam gave me. I guess it was now or never.

The phone rang a couple of times before a man picked up and rattled off his law enforcement credentials and his name. Okay, maybe this guy could help me.

I took a deep breath and spoke out loud the sentence I had been practicing in my head for the last few days which was a risk in and of itself, “I’m a high ranking member of The Fallen and would like to be of assistance in taking down the current, highly wanted, leader of said… organization.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, “Pardon?”

I sighed, my anxiety creeping back in, but what came out was an annoyed clip, “I said I’d like to snitch on my boss, a highly wanted individual, now can you help me get rid of him, or did Sam lie to me?”

“You know Sam?”

“Well, no der.” I tried to calm my beating heart, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a mistake, “I’m sorry for wasting your time, this was a mistake.”

“No no, wait.” I heard him swallow, “I’m going to talk to some people, let me see what I can do okay?”

My voice cracked, “Okay.”

The call ended, and all I could think was, Well there’s no backing out now.

Never before had I felt like I was in a dystopian novel more than this chapter of my life. I was nervous, like even the TVs were watching my every move to see if I was thinking traitorous thoughts, straight out of “1984.”

Every meeting, every glance in my direction, every moment of silence, and I swore everyone there already knew what I had done. But I kept a straight face in the serious moments, laughed when it was polite, and I wasn’t dead yet.

The day came when I met him in person. The safest place I could think of was my apartment. I paced back and forth for the whole afternoon constantly watching the clock, then it seemed like ten minutes after four it was six o’clock already. He was due to my doorstep any minute now.

A knock came to the door and I felt stone cold.

Slow steps took me to the sound. I opened the door a crack to see who it was. A tall man stood on the other side, in casual clothes thank goodness. He was casually looking around, but to the trained eye, I could tell he was watching to see if anyone was paying special attention.

“Yes?” Don’t give too much away, don’t volunteer any information. Yet.

He finally focused on me and I took into account the strong structure to his face, one could either call him intimidating or handsome, depending on his mood. Right now he was walking the line while leaning towards the former.

“I believe you’ve been expecting me,” he spoke quietly, his voice sounded very similar to the one I heard on the phone, but one could never be too careful.

“Oh? And what’s the connection between us?” I hoped my face was perfect innocence, but I knew my eyes were calculating and cautious.

“Sam.”

I closed the door to unlock the chain. I quickly let him in.

“I assume it’s safe here?” His eyes scanned the room, looking for anything that could be a problem.

I locked the door behind him, “As safe a place as any. I personally had soundproofing installed. Not many people come here, less chance for bugs. Neighbors are friendly, mostly elderly couples.”

“I was going to say, pretty small apartment for someone in the mob,” he extended a hand for me to shake, “Dean Winchester.”

I huffed, “Yeah, it’s kinda my job to blend in. Not all of us have Hollywood mansions. I glanced at him from the kitchen as I grabbed two glasses, “I see height runs in the family.”

“Somethin’ like that,” Dean sat on the couch in the living room.

I handed him a drink, “So...”

“So indeed,” he swirled the liquid in the glass before setting it on the side table, “I’m currently being transferred from the my current department a couple hours away to the local PD. Once that’s done I will be going under cover. You will be my in. Does that work?”

I drained my own drink, “Swimmingly.” I set my own glass on the floor by the feet of the chair I was sitting in, “I honestly can’t believe I’m doing this.” I spoke it mostly to myself, but he heard it all the same.

“Yeah, why are you doing this? What made you join in the first place only to try and tear it all down?”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the chair. I guess I should have seen the question coming. “I joined The Fallen when I was a lot younger. Why does anyone join the mafia?”

“Protection, a safe place to do illegal things, they’re desperate?”

I chuckled, “And usually somewhere to belong, but yeah, you hit the nail on the head. I was desperate. Nowhere to go. And let’s leave it at that.” I started cleaning my fingernails, my hands needing something to do. “It was a classic mafia back then. Don’t mess with us, we don’t mess with you. If you do, you better watch your back. It was okay. It was safe. That was under this guy named Nick. He’s in prison now, but you probably knew that already.”

Dean nodded his head.

“In the power vacuum he left behind, I helped get your brother out. Covered his tracks, but there wasn’t anyone to follow them. Sounds like he’s got a nice life now.”

“Why didn’t you get out with him?”

“Still didn’t have anywhere to go. Sam, he’s smart. Got back into school, had a nice girl waiting for him on the other side. I didn’t have any of that.  The Fallen was all I had, figured this was better than being on the run from myself.” I sighed, “Anyway, Crowley comes in. He’s a businessman at heart. He  made the community safer. Kept local businesses afloat. It felt like we were doing something good.”

I smiled to myself. Happier times.

“I guess I got soft.” I looked up from my hands into his serious face, “Now Chuck has the whole city wrapped around his twisted finger. No one knows what he wants. He’s got no honor system-”

Dean scoffed.

“Hey, it might not have been much, but Crowley and Nick? They had their own code that if you knew what it was, then nothing surprised you. Chuck’s a wild card. He’s destroying everything good about this place, and like it or not, I don’t. And if I can do something about it, I’m going to. Okay?”

Dean set his jaw and nodded.

“So how do you wanna play this mister hot shot cop?”

“That’s a good question, one that you are gonna answer.”

I raised my eyebrows, “Oh?”

He shifted to a more relaxed position on the couch, “Yup. You’re the expert, so how are you gonna bring me in? I’ve got to observe, gather information and evidence, and hopefully set him up so we can catch him in the act of doing something ‘life in prison’ worthy.”

“Can we get a death sentence?”

Dean slowly gained a more guarded posture, “And why would you want that?” As Dean relaxed he seemed more personable, but with that one statement he looked suspicious of me and my motives. His eyes gained that hard look that could break steel and I was terrified to see him angry.

I curled in on myself, “Past experience.”

“I’m gonna need to know this kind of stuff sweetheart.”

“Look, we both know life in prison isn’t a guarantee. Nick was supposed to get a life sentence, but he got out. Now Crowley’s dead and Chuck is in power.” There was a pause where neither of us spoke. “There’s always something. You’re in law enforcement. You should know that.”

He sighed before nodding once again, “Fine, we’ll see what we can do and what we can get, okay?”

“Okay.”

“How are you going to get me in?”

I rubbed my temples. How was I going to get him in? “I think our best option is for me to just bring you in as a new recruit. No deals, tell him the least information possible. Whoever brings someone new in becomes their mentor so that’ll work out...” This was going to be hard. Chuck was a difficult target. “We’ll say you’re new in town. You desperately need some extra cash, so you’re willing to join. You don’t really care what you have to do. The trick is to lie the least amount as possible. Chuck doesn’t like liars, and he can always find out information. So I hope there aren’t many people who know you’re doing this.” I locked eyes with him.

“No, not many at all.”

“I hope you’re right, or we’re both dead.”

This conversation ran through my head as we stood in front of Chuck. It was the monthly meeting, where everything you could think of was discussed, including new members.

“So, there’s a new face.” Chuck was looking at the pair of us, a passive invitation.

I stepped forward with as much confidence as I could muster, “Yes, this is new recruit-”

“Officer Dean Winchester, yes I know.”

I nearly choked as my eyes widened in fear and surprise. I glanced at Dean and all I could think was, “We’re dead.”

“Now the question is, why does the new cop in town want to join the local mob?” Chuck stood from his chair and walked around, “Little short on cash, need a little excitement?”

Dean chuckled, but I could tell he was hiding his nervousness, “Yeah, something like that.”

“Good, what’s one more cop on the payroll? You’re in.” Chuck finally looked back at the two of us, and my heart was still pounding out of my chest despite how impossibly well this was going, “Oh, you didn’t know he was a cop did you? Looks like some couples therapy material.”

I swallowed, but couldn’t hide my confusion, couples therapy?

“Oh come on! It’s obvious!” Chuck hesitated, “Well maybe not obvious, but Y/n’s not the hook-up type.”

I blushed, this was getting out of hand, but as long as Chuck wasn’t going to kill me, I would put up with it the best I could.

Chuck clapped and rubbed his hands together, “Oh I love a good romance. So how did you guys meet?”

Dean seemed to snap into it, or maybe it was me who was out of it, I’m not sure, but Dean grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers.

“I don’t know, sir, I’m not much of a story teller.”

“Come on Dean.” Chuck smiled, a little too eagerly.

I tightened my grip on Dean’s hand, mostly out of anxiousness. I was out of options and stocked up on fear. It was up to him to get us the hell out of here.

“Tell me a story.”

Best Buds Taglist: @kitkatd7 @snarky--starky @confetti-its-an-imagine-blog @kaogasm

Dean: @akshi8278 @msmarvelouswinchester

[tae-cup]

When The Earth Met The Sea | Of Eternity and Euphoria (2)

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Summary: You had been playing this game with the god of the sea for far too long. He decided to finally put an end to it. 

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 4.7k Words

A/N: Ideas are just-flowing. Let me know your thoughts, they help motivate me a lot! 

Other: 

Series Masterlist

Normal Masterlist

-

-

The god of the sea, with dark eyes like the depths of the ocean and luminescent skin like the fish below, met her when she was just a new god. A goddess meant to manage Earth long after the original god had worn himself out. 

You were the newest addition to the collection of gods and goddesses. Everyday seemed to have a newcomer. It was bad enough that they need a welcome booth for where they all seemed to pop out of nowhere. The Earth was changing and so were the gods. When the god who brought the continents of the Earth together discovered that his apprentice, you, had accidentally triggered fault lines to break them apart, he was rightfully angry. 

“I can’t believe this. A million years of work to be broken like this.” He had hissed at you. You smiled, still young and hopeful, open to change. That’s what the new gods held against the old gods. They were more open and adaptable. They broke tradition. 

-

You met while you were busy arranging Iceland. You sat puzzled at your desk. It was glass with a large Earth in the middle. You could rotate it with a wave of your hand. For a long time most gods called you the insane ruler of Earth. The goddess that was always in her head. You spent most of your days alone, but you had your thoughts distracting you anyway. 

There was a soft knock on your office doors. You looked up quickly, hesitating to open the door. Maybe you could pretend you weren’t here? You shoved Iceland towards the top of the globe hastily, telling yourself you’d move it soon enough. 

“I know you’re in there.” A low voice announced. You knew that voice, everyone did. The god of the sea often complained to the other gods if they encroached on his territory. You had simply been waiting until he got around to you. After all, you were the reason for so much distress in the oceans with continents sliding everywhere. 

“Come in.” You sighed, not wanting to deal with the annoyed god. Taehyung always looked calm on the surface, but he had a swirling vortex of emotions below. You just didn’t feel like being dragged under right now. 

“Pardon my intrusion,” He started off, to which you held back rolling your eyes. “But there are important matters we need to discuss.” 

“Ever the polite gentlemen.” You drawled. “Well, I suppose I have some time. Please, sit.” You gestured to the chairs at the other side of the desk. You then waved your hand, shooing away the globe. 

“First of all,” He sat carefully, making sure not to wrinkle his suit. “I would like to request you slow down your innovations to the modern world. The continents are stirring up the sea floor and causing thousands of species to become endangered or extinct.” A muscle twitched in his jaw, giving away his frustration. 

You simply smiled, clasping your fingers together at the other end of the desk. “Of course, I understand your anger. However, Mr. Kim, there will always be change. Perhaps you just need to adapt?” Your words held a fire that so contrasted your innocent look. 

You may be considered innocent, lost in your own world, and fragile, but in reality you were anything but. You held a fire in your soul, a down to Earth nature, and you quipped back impeccably well. Taehyung had never met a goddess like you, much less a god. Usually gods and goddesses alike would bow to the whims of one of the oldest gods. He may have let the power get to him. He was taken aback. 

“While that, uh,” He swallowed thickly, not sure how to string together the right words. “While that is true, water adapts easily, I can as well. The issue here is the rate at which change is happening. It’s too fast to adapt. I’m asking for your compassion in this to understand my concerns.” 

“I’ll think on it.” You said vaguely. “I want to get the continents settled. After all, I have my own people to take care of.” 

He dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement before standing. The tension in the air thickened. 

“Well, then, I must be going. Thank you for your...consideration.” His voice was steel, but there was a hint of warmth. You couldn’t deny that you had enjoyed the snappy conversation. 

“Good day.” You smiled as you watched him leave in a hurry. It would take more than good looks or witty dialogue to change your mind on things. 

-

-

“Ah, Ms. Y/N.” A familiar voice reached your ears. Oh no. You slowly turned around, a forced smile on your face. 

“Taehyung, how lovely to see you again.” You greeted, looking past him to view the other gods he had arrived with. “I didn’t expect you to actually come.” Your face didn’t give away any emotion, staying on a stagnant smile. 

“Of course I would come, it’s your 1000th birthday.” His lips twitched into a smile. 

“And I will have many more.” You shot back. 

“The first millennia is always special. Soon enough you’ll be considered a proper goddess yourself.” 

“I’m not considered a proper goddess already?” You quirked an eyebrow. He let out a loud laugh that would seem natural if you didn’t know him. He casually ruffled your hair. 

“You’re new yet, don’t be in such a rush to grow old.” His voice had a touch of affection and you weren’t quite sure what to do with that information. He walked away to grab a drink and socialize with the other gods and goddesses at your party. 

It wasn’t a grand party, in god terms. You had a large ballroom in your home, though you rarely held any parties. Humans were tiresome and always needed something from you. That reminded you of another encounter you had with the old sea god. 

-

-

“What’s got you so agitated?” Taehyung leaned casually against the wall in your office. You didn’t need to look up to know it was him. That voice was iconic enough. 

“These humans.” You muttered, running a hand through your hair. “They always want more. It seems Jin has created a very greedy species.” 

“But Jin loves them nonetheless. He admires there tenacity.” 

“They’re like weeds.” 

The dark eyed god laughed genuinely. “You are correct, my darling goddess.” 

You rolled your eyes. “First they thought the world was flat and now they’re begging for a better harvest as if I have nothing better to do.” You massaged your forehead, holding your head in your hands. You sunk miserably into your chair. “What makes it worse is that I don’t.” You practically threw your hands up in frustration. “Why couldn’t I have gotten assigned to the stars or moon?” 

Taehyung’s gaze softened seeing you struggle so hard. He carefully approached you, looking around uncomfortably. What could he do? He lifted his hand and slowly patted your back. It was a mixture of being comforting and annoying. 

“Hey, it’ll be okay. You’ll learn soon enough that you don’t have to do everything they want. Yes, they’ll worship you, but they love you even more if they experience what’s it’s like without your guidance. They’ll appreciate you more.” He said, his voice deep and soothing. You sighed, back moving up and down under his touch. 

“You’re right, I guess.” When you looked up, you met his eyes. And it was like you were drowning. The orbs of his eyes weren’t obsidian at all, they were a deep, glittering blue. You felt like you were losing your grip, so you quickly pulled away. “Thank you, but I’m very busy.” 

He simply nodded and made his way toward the door. “Try not to be so hard on yourself.”

-

-

Even now, your eyes trailed him around the room. You shook your head and decided to distract yourself with greeting the endless sea of new guests. The temperature of the room rose with the amount of bodies piling in. You hadn’t expected so many to show up. You weren’t much of a crowds person, again, you were known as the looney goddess up in her head all day. 

“I hope we can get along well.” Seokjin smiled, placing a kiss on your hand. You smiled gently. 

“I, too, hope we can work together. Though, your humans are troublesome creatures.” 

He chuckled and moved to the side, making way for the last god you expected to see. The god of the underworld stood there, his presence seemingly dropping the room’s temperature in itself. He frowned, looking awfully out of place next to the bright colors of the night. 

“Mr. Min, lovely to see you.” You smiled pleasantly. He waved you off, eyes lazily surveying the room. 

“I just came to wish you well. I believe we’ll be in touch very shortly.” He whispered so only you could hear him. You froze. No god or goddess who was in charge of living things wanted to hear that they would be meeting the god of the dead any time soon. 

“What do you mean? What do you know?” You murmured back, fighting the urge to run to your office and check on the troublesome humans. Jin had left them in your care after he was done perfecting them. He claimed they were the perfect inhabitants for your lonely continents. 

“You’ll have to talk to Jungkook about it.” He shook his head, moving to the side. You realized you had been talking far too long and people were throwing you suspicious stares, especially Taehyung. You excused yourself from the long line and made your way to the bar. You practically stumbled into a seat, like you were already drunk. You must have looked physically paler than ever before because the bartender poured you a glass of something strong without question. 

Jungkook was a new god, like you. He had been made when humans were made. A very select few gods knew his reason for being here. That included the big three (Yoongi, Taehyung, and Seokjin), Jungkook, and Namjoon. The five of them didn’t seem very happy about him being there and they refused to tell you his reason for inhabiting this world. Taehyung would just shake his head, a soft look on his face, and say that he prayed you never found out. 

“What happened?” Taehyung slid into a seat next to you. 

“Tell me, Tae.” You turned to him, hand tightly gripping the glass. “What is Jungkook’s purpose here?” Your jaw clenched. 

“Why do you need to know?” He looked bewildered. 

“It pertains to the safety of my inhabitants.” You hissed. 

“You really shouldn’t worry about it.” 

“Why did Yoongi claim I would be meeting with not only him, but also Jungkook, very soon?” 

Taehyung’s gaze searched your face. He had a distant look on his face. Then he brushed his hands through his hair. He forced a kind smile onto his face, but his eyes were cold. 

“War. Y/N. War. He’s the god of war.” 

-

-

You rushed out of your room to empty the contents of your stomach out once more. You truly were the most human of all the gods and goddesses. You took on a certain amount of pain your little humans possessed, but this was getting ridiculous. How many times can a god throw up on an empty stomach? 

You were not well, everyone knew this. When you could stand, other gods sent you sympathetic looks. Your little humans. Your dreaded companions that plagued themselves with hatred for each other for centuries. 

You gasped for air, flushing the toilet. Your eyes closed, trying to hold onto your stomach. You couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep. You had to constantly survey the Earth to make sure they didn’t completely destroy it with any of their fancy new weapons. You fell to the floor, feeling like you’d just been punched in the gut. Gods, what had they done to your beautiful creation this time? 

You stumbled down the halls and towards your office, feeling more dizzy by the minute. Then you saw it, the news reports that flashed onto your screen, the carnage. 

“No.” Your voice was so quiet in disbelief. Then it rose. “No! No! No!” You banged your fist against the table, your other hand clutching your stomach. You felt sick, sicker than before, like you’d been poisoned. All you could see were the words atomic bomb and Japan. You wanted to scream in pain and frustration. You had no lively energy, no color in your cheeks. Your eyes were hollow. Your hands shakily grabbed the table as you pulled yourself to a standing position. Quiet tears streaked down your cheeks. 

“Jungkook.” You yelled hoarsely. “Jungkook!” 

Finally, the young god appeared in a shimmering light, an astral projection to your office. Unlike you, he seemed to be glowing, basking in the violence. Now he radiated energy and pure rage. 

“Please.” You choked, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please, stop this.” You cried out, voice breaking. He just tilted his head, seemingly reveling in your tears. 

“Why? I’m thriving, Y/N.” He chuckled darkly. 

“You’re killing me.” Your voice was flat, stating a simple truth. If the reason for a god’s existence disappeared, then the god would be forgotten as well. He smiled a little. 

“Fine, but you can’t expect me to hold back next time.” He disappeared and you collapsed on the floor, unable to stand any longer. 

Pain was all you felt, saw, heard, smelled. His sadistic smile forever burned in your vision. 

“Y/N?” A concerned voice came through. You heard a tray drop and the hurried footsteps of someone. “Oh my gods, what happened?” 

You didn’t have the energy to respond. 

“See, this is why I told you not to get so invested in your little humans.” He murmured, the low voice giving you a sense of peace. Inside, Taehyung was furious. Seeing you laying there helpless broke something in him. And when he picked you up, you were so frail, all bones. Your immortality would not allow you to starve to death, but you could feel that pain. 

“You idiot.” His voice didn’t wobble, though he felt like breaking down seeing you like this. Maybe he cared more about you than he should. Maybe he was the idiot for falling in love with you. 

“I just-I just wanted to help.” You murmured softly against his shirt. He just clutched you tighter, laying you down onto the large bed. 

“I know, love, I know.” He whispered, brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead. He couldn’t handle seeing you in this feverish state. This is not what a god should look like. 

Your ethereal light was faded significantly, now a dim glow. 

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to take care of me. You have the sea to handle.” 

“I’d choose you over the sea any day.” He murmured, hoping you hadn’t heard, but you had. You just didn’t react, knowing he would feel awkward if you acknowledged it. Your heart beat quickly, and not because of the fever. 

You tugged on his hand. “Stay.”

And he did. 

-

-

“What’s the prophecy?” Taehyung tilted his head, looking at the pale god before him. Yoongi sighed and took a deep breath, ready to repeat the entire thing again. “No, no,” Taehyung held up a hand. “I’ve already heard that version. Just sum up the important points.” 

“Alright.” The older god grumbled. It wasn’t unusual for Taehyung to talk brashly. “Basically, I’ll meet my soulmate and they will lead me down a path that will end in my demise.” 

“Anything else that could lead to your demise?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow. 

The seven men all sat rather uncomfortably around a table in the throne room. They all looked around, trying to avoid the topic. Finally, Jungkook banged his fist on the table. 

“Can we all stop acting like idiots, we’re gods! Why can’t we utter his name? It’s pathetic!” He shouted. Namjoon shot him a glare and Taehyung eyed him warily. He still hadn’t forgiven the younger god for putting you through so much pain. 

“Kronos is not a titan to be trifled with.” Namjoon muttered, barely making out the name. 

“We all know he’s coming back, hell, even Y/N can feel the growing tension.” Jungkook continued his rant, though a little more subdued. It was true, you had been complaining of this tension in your chest for ages now. 

“Don’t talk about her.” Taehyung crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. 

“What? You worried for your girlfriend?” Jungkook sneered. “You’ve grown soft for that insane goddess.”

His fists clenched under the table and Namjoon eyed him carefully. 

“Alright, alright, settle down.” Namjoon glared harshly at the two gods. “Jin?”

“Yes?” The sky god straightened. 

“Keep an eye on Kronos and Taehyung, please stay behind. I need to speak to you about something.” 

Taehyung simply nodded as the others filed out of the room. Now alone, he sagged in his seat. “What do you want, Joon?” 

Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “Is that any way to speak to me? Now, I need you to watch Yoongi. I don’t...I don’t want his love to be the downfall of us.”

The sea god scoffed at the other. “You really think Yoongi would fall in love with anyone?” 

Namjoon’s eyes softened, looking Taehyung over. “I mean you fell in love, it’s not impossible.” 

Taehyung gaped at Namjoon. “What-what? No!” He sputtered. The elder god gave him a knowing smile. “And what are you suggesting! I’m not that hard to love.” He mumbled the last part.

“Listen, you just need to take care of whoever it is.”

Taehyung’s face fell. “Take...care of?” 

“Make it look like an accident.” 

“I thought you didn’t believe that stuff?” Taehyung argued. The thought of destroying someone’s soulmate made his heart ache. 

“Of course I believe the fates. I just didn’t want to worry Yoongi too much. Now, Tae, you’ve found your soulmate, yes?”

The dark haired god tilted his head. “Really?”

“Oh come on, Tae. You can’t be that stupid. It’s obviously Y/N.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. Taehyung swallowed. 

“Why does this matter?”

“Well, I love you like a brother, but if you can’t follow through on this...” Namjoon looked into Taehyung’s eyes, a dangerous smile reaching his lips. “...I won’t hold off Jungkook next time.” 

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “But, hyung, this is too cruel.” Argued the restless god. 

“I have no issue with being cruel. I have an issue with Olympus falling to Kronos once more.” 

“Do you know who it is?” 

“Yes, a mortal.” 

Taehyung froze, swallowing thickly. “A...mortal? Hyung this is too easy.” 

“Mortals are easily curious and attracted to evil, you know this better than anyone...Y/N knows this better than anyone.”

“And yet she stays good on her word to Jin. She still defends them and helps them tirelessly.” Taehyung had even grown a soft spot, seeing how much you cared about those pitiful creatures. 

“She’s a bit odd,” Namjoon watched a muscle in Taehyung’s jaw twitch at that. “But she will understand, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“She’ll hate me, hyung.”

“Thousands are lost to the sea every year.”

“But never on purpose!”

“She won’t hate you. Y/N is your soulmate, she’ll understand it’s for the better of all gods.”

Though the sea god doubted this, he still nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if I get kicked out of the house, I’m staying with you.”

-

-

You did not understand. 

“Tae! You can’t just do this to an innocent person!” Once she had overheard the plan, she ran straight to Yoongi to warn him. “She’s eight. EIGHT!” You felt distraught, feeling sympathy for this poor child who was almost killed for no fault of her own. 

“I can’t believe you went and told Yoongi.” Taehyung cried, slamming his hands on the desk. You flinched slightly, but that didn’t deter him. “I did what I had to! Don’t you understand that? Do you want to die? You’re part of the original gods who put Kronos down there. He won’t be kind to you.” 

“That was the original god, not me.” You defended yourself. “I’m sorry I went to Yoongi, but I can’t do that to him. I know I would feel absolutely heartbroken if my soulmate died.” 

Taehyung frowned, ignoring your statement. “Did you know?”

“Know? That you wanted to kill a child?” 

“No,” He stepped around the desk and took your hands in his. “That we’re soulmates.” 

Your face got visibly pale and you instantly dropped his hands. You tried to ignore the hurt that flashed across his face. “You’re mistaken.” 

“Namjoon told me.” 

“He could be wrong.”

“Would it really be so bad, to be soulmates with me? To live together, forever?” He peered into your eyes. You softened your facial features. 

“I mean, no, I don’t know.” You sighed, tugging at your hair. “I just didn’t expect this.” 

“I wouldn’t mind.” 

You stopped your worrying, glancing over his features. You searched for a sign of sarcasm, but you found none. 

“I think I love you.” You suddenly said, your voice quiet. He resisted the urge to kiss you right there, the look on your face was so pure. 

“You think?” He teased. He took a step forward and this time you didn’t move away. “I think I love you too.” 

He leaned forward, lips brushing yours, teasing you almost. You leaned up, planting a soft kiss on his lips timidly. It was all over then. He grasped your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You ran your hands through his hair. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth and you gladly let him in. Taehyung’s breath fanned over your face as he pulled away, leaning down to pepper kisses down your jawline and neck. You gasped, surprised at the neediness he displayed. His hands ran up and down your waist. 

“You know I’ll protect you no matter what, right?” He said breathlessly. You nodded, shifting under him. “You drive me crazy, Y/N. You make me want to ruin you.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, the centuries of being alone slowly fading away. It had been so long since you’d touched anyone intimately. You were sure you were that last virgin goddess in this town. You nudged him away softly. 

“Not yet.” Your voice was firm but rang sweet. 

He whined ever so slightly when he pulled away, taking in your flushed face. 

“Gods, I’m so in love with you.” He declared. 

You were speechless. You were so madly in love with him too. But how could you say it? It almost embarrassed you to be so open in your affections. So you simply nodded, pulling him into your lips once more. 

-

-

You had long forgotten the little eight year old you and Yoongi had saved. Then she stumbled into the underworld, every god could feel the disturbance, no longer a little girl. She held herself with a lovely confidence. You couldn’t help watching her. After all, she was under your jurisdiction. You left your bed early in the morning, wiggling out from under Taehyung. 

You watched him slowly shift, not noticing the lack of warmth. You smiled at his sleeping figure. He looked so peaceful, no sign of the whirlpool underneath. You had long been swept under, but you didn’t mind. He never overwhelmed you. 

“Little human, what are you doing here?” You murmured to yourself, watching her wander through the halls. Then you remembered the meeting the gods had in a bit. You carefully flicked through the latest news, though you, of course, knew all of it first. You enjoyed the simple views of these papers, just trying to grab the attention of consumers. 

“You’re up early.” Taehyung stood in the doorway, watching you with such love in his eyes, you just wanted to melt. You were still emotionally unstable since World War II, unable to think about war without wanting to break down again. Taehyung hated that he never stepped in. He hated that Jungkook allowed you to go through that. You felt like a ghost, often drifting off during conversation, but Taehyung was always gentle and patient with you. It seemed you were the only one he had patience for. 

“Oh, yeah.” You scratched your head awkwardly. “Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” 

“Yeah. Yoongi said it was important.” 

“You didn’t kill the girl.” 

“I know.”

“What will happen to you?” 

I’m more worried about you. He thought to himself. “Nothing, love.” He opened his arms and you didn’t hesitate to hug him. “You don’t need to worry about me.” He murmured into your hair. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid.” You mumbled. 

“Of course.” 

You patted his arm lovingly. “And try to give her a chance, okay? You intimidate most gods, what can you expect from a mortal?” 

Taehyung chuckled, but he didn’t respond. You sighed and gave him a chaste kiss. “Be safe, love.” 

-

-

Your face blanched, watching Taehyung get dressed. His hands shook. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, voice small. He jumped, looking back to see you standing in the doorway. Taehyung fastened his necktie, swallowing. 

“Namjoon wants me to finish the job.” 

You froze, eyes widening. “What?” 

“I know.” He groaned, hurriedly putting on his shoes. “but it should be easy since she’s traveling to the surface to pack up.” He went to move past you, but you planted yourself in the doorway. 

“No.” You said firmly, crossing your arms. He looked at you, bewildered. 

“I know you don’t like this, but at this point I have no choice. It’s you or her.” 

“I’m a goddess, Taehyung. I’m not a fragile flower. I can handle pain. A mortal cannot!” You cried out. “If it’s me versus her, choose her.” 

His gaze hardened and he stepped forward. He place his hands on your shoulders. “No.” Then he moved you aside like you were nothing. 

“Kim Taehyung.” You were shaking, hatred pouring through you. “If you do not turn back around right now, I can promise you I will leave. I will leave and you won’t see me again.” 

“I can’t believe this.” He whispered menacingly. He turned on his heel, facing you, pain in his eyes. But he knew the terror and pain you were displaying on your face would be engraved in his mind forever. “A human over yourself? You truly are the most selfless goddess I know.” 

“They are my fish.” You gestured grandly. “If they die, I die. If the Earth dies because of them, then that’s my fault for loving them too much.” 

“You always love people too much. Including me.” He took your hands in his, giving them a soft squeeze, all anger from before was gone. “But you’re lucky I’m absolutely, madly, in love with you.” 

Then he turned around, leaving you frozen in place, heart beating wildly. “Taehyung!” You cried, dress flowing behind you as you chased after him. Too late. He was gone. “No, no, no.” You sank to the ground, holding your head in your hands. The pain you felt for that poor girl. 

-

“Lift your head, Y/N.” His gentle voice called to you. And when you looked up, there stood Taehyung in all his glory. Not a hair out of place. You scrambled up, immediately backing away. 

“That was fast.” You said bitterly. 

“How long have you been sitting there?” His eyes met yours. You glanced away. 

“Since you left.” 

“That was hours ago.”

“So you did it?” You answered harshly, already feeling the tears ready to spill over. 

“No.” 

You looked up at him, eyes blinking back the tears in surprise. “No?”

“I couldn’t. Not to you. Not to her.” 

A grin broke out onto your face. 

“So you do have a heart after all, Mr. Kim Taehyung.” 

He grimaced, “I didn’t like you using my name like that. I prefer you calling me Tae.” 

You chuckled at his forlorn expression. You walked forward and embraced him. His arms enveloped you in warmth and you felt completely safe. Completely normal. Now you understood why humans went to war for such trivial things. Before you couldn’t understand why they hated each other, why they hurt each other, and by default, you. It’s because they love something else that’s worth fighting for. And as you sank into his embrace, you knew you would go to war for him, even if Kronos ate you like your ancestors, you wouldn’t regret it one bit. 

[grandslambaeley]

Bayley’s Heel Turn

I think we can all agree that Bayley’s heel turn is something we’ve all been anxiously ancipating for years now. I personally knew she would turn heel eventually but I was always cautious about how it would be pulled off. What would her heel character be? How much would they change her image? What were going to be her motivations? Of all the scenarios I pictured in my head of a heel Bayley, what we got was the furthest scenario but in the best way possible.

The Seeds

I keep hearing people say that this heel turn came out of nowhere and was so surprising. If you had been watching Bayley ever since Wrestlemania you would've noticed a distinct change in her attitude. There were no more hugs and there was an intensity to her that was lacking before. She was stepping up more and making sure that she wasn’t being pushed aside even if that meant she had to push a few people around. She stood up to Charlotte even hitting her unprovoked in her match against Lacey Evans. She attacked Alexa and pushed Charlotte off her chair when they refused to respect her. She attacked Ember Moon. She was constantly knocked back every time she tried to elevate the Smackdown Women’s Division and her frustration was clearly showing. But for me, the moment I knew her heel turn was approaching was after Nikki Cross got involved in her match with Alexa at Stomping Grounds. After the match Bayley pushed Nikki out of the way, which made me say “huh” because it was not the typical actions of a babyface. She seemed noticeably annoyed and I could finally see the heel turn wheels cranking. I didn't know when and I didn't know how but at that moment I knew that the turn was coming. Everyone assumed that this was just a change in her babyface character, the attitude change that she finally needed when in fact the seeds were being planted for her eventual heel turn. Knowing the outcome now, if you look back at all the clues it was as clear as day that this was going to happen.

The Work

I could go on for days about Sasha Banks’ 4 month work before her return. The complete silence when the whole world was talking about her. The cryptic tweets that told us something but we weren't sure what.  The black and white photos that had the whole world guessing her hair colour. The constant change in hair colour from purple, to black, back to purple, to a blonde wig. The Kendrick Lamar lyrics. The butterfly. It was brilliant from start to finish but the most underrated part of it all was Bayley’s role. Bayley started to wear butterflies on her gear. The jacket with the hourglass that she wore during her entrance at SummerSlam. We all just assumed that this was all apart of Sasha’s return. We let our guards down because we thought the work was finished. Sasha was back and we could finally stop questioning everything, right? No. A particular twitter exchange told me that this work wasn't quite over yet.

We would soon come to realise that this work wasn't just for Sasha’s return and heel turn but Bayley’s as well. Everything was pointing to a Boss n Hug reunion. Storytelling at its finest.

The Character

Ever since she started in wwe we’ve had the same Bayley. She was happy, positive, kid-friendly but had the ability to bring the fire when she needed to and that’s what made everyone fall in love with her but we’ve always wondered what edgy Bayley was like. Deep down we’ve always wanted that devilish, nasty Bayley. We always assumed that if Bayley were to ever turn heel she would get rid of the side pony, the whacky inflatable tube men and her theme song and switch to something edgier but that isn’t what we got from heel Bayley. Heel Bayley hasn’t changed her image just her logic and it’s brilliant! At times people forget that heels are supposed to be hated and booed not cheered and adored. The biggest problem with Becky Lynch’s heel turn last year was that heel Becky became was the badass that everyone wanted her to be from the very beginning so everyone cheered for it. She was forced into being a babyface by the wwe universe even though she was supposed to be a heel. If Bayley had gone edgier after the heel turn. Got rid of the pony, got rid of the entrance and changed her look, she would’ve been doing everything the wwe universe (including me) wanted her to do and ultimately would be cheered. So when Bayley came out on Smackdown to the same entrance, same side pony, huge smile on her face, everyone was confused. This is exactly what people didn’t want, so they boo her. Exactly what you’re supposed to do to a heel. Right there she was able to draw heat before she even spoke one word. Amazing!

The Motivation

Everyone was curious to see what her motivations were. They were very simple. Loyalty. Loyalty to her best friend. Loyalty to the one person who’s been there for her from the very beginning. But she doesn’t understand why everyone doesn’t see that, why everyone seems to have a problem with what she did. They should be thanking her for showing their kids how to be loyal. It became clear to me quite quickly what kind of character wwe were going for. She’s the delusional heel. She believes what she did was right, she’s the good guy because she was loyal to her friend. She pretty much turns it on the crowd saying that if they can’t see why she did what she did then there is something wrong with their morality. I believe this heel character suits Bayley so well and reminds me of a comic book super villain who truly believes they are the good guy even though their actions say otherwise. It is a type of heel that we don’t see often these days and it makes her stand out from everyone else. And what about this character helps her get heat? HYPOCRISY. One minute she’s saying she’s a hero and a role model, the next she’s hitting Charlotte with a steel chair. There is nothing that people hate more in this world than hypocrisy and using it to get heat for a character will always be 100% successful that any “pipe-bomb”. This promo was crucial for Bayley. It would be the foundation for the rest of her heel run and she absolutely nailed it.

The Alignment

I am the first to admit that although I love Bayley and Sasha together, I was skeptical when Bayley’s heel turn aligned her with Sasha. Sasha is such a larger than life character than sometimes she would overshadow Bayley during their days as babyfaces. Heel Sasha is an even bigger character than face Sasha so I was concerned that Bayley’s heel turn was just going to be overshadowed by Sasha. But after watching Smackdown I don’t think that is going to be the case. Bayley and Sasha were equals, I’d even say Bayley was the one in control. I enjoy that they are two very different heels. Sasha is the selfish, narcissistic, arrogant heel and Bayley is the delusional, disingenuous heel. It makes them very intriguing as a duo and make me curious to see how their dynamics will play out. Now that I’ve had time to think about it I see Bayley aligning herself with Sasha as an opportunity to gain even more heat. Whether you want to admit it or not Sasha is not liked by a lot of people in the wwe universe. People either love her or they hate her, there is no in between and the people that hate her really HATE her. She’s confident, she knows she’s the shit, she knows she’s the best and that eats people up inside to the point where they cannot stand it. She can gain heat just by waking into the room. She doesn’t need to say a word or lift a finger, that’s how powerful she is. Aligning yourself with a heel Sasha, a cocky, arrogant, self-centred, money hungry Sasha is a guaranteed way to gain heat. And it is the cherry on top of the incredible Bayley heel turn.

I think we can all say that Bayley’s heel turn turned out to be nothing like what we were expecting and that is what is so good about it. If you had told me beforehand that Bayley’s image wouldn’t change, that she wouldn’t be become an edgier looking Bayley and that she was going to align herself with Sasha, I would’ve said that was everything I didn’t want from her heel turn but now that we are here and I’ve had the time the analyse it, this heel Bayley is better than I could’ve ever imagined.

[mikid2000]

Miss You: Part 2

(It’s finally here!!)

Characters: Scarlett (OFC)xDean, Sam, Alec (OMC), Isaiah (OMC, Mentioned)

Word Count: 4269 (sorry)

Warnings: Betrayal, death/murder

A/N: I know it’s been a while but I finally finished part 2 (YAY!). Please read Part 1 before you read this part, it will help you understand this part a lot better. I apologize in advance if there any typos.

Scarlett arrived in Bakersfield, California a day and a half after she left Bobby’s house. The last conversation she had with Dean Winchester replaying over and over in her head.

He was the only guy who’s ever cared about me. 

That was the last thing she said to him, right before she tore out of the junkyard in her Ford pickup without another word. 

She wanted to turn around, to run out of this shabby little motel room and back into his firm arms and apologize for everything she said to him. She missed his scent of leather and whiskey, missed the way his muscled body warmed her. In short, she missed him.

The only thing keeping her here was the fact that Isaiah Hamill had sent her here, and she remembered the last time she defied him. The memories of her brother screaming at him to stop as Isaiah beat her into unconsciousness were still burning in Scarlett’s head. The bruises had marked her face for weeks, her split lip aching. 

He was the only guy who ever cared about me.

Dean had cared about her, and she threw him in the deep end and swam off. 

Scarlett’s head snapped up and her fingers tensed on the handle of the gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans, as a knock sounded on the motel door. Abandoning the news article she was skimming through on the small, round table, Scarlett crept over to the door, looked through the tiny peephole, and cautiously opened it. 

She was met with the familiar handsome smirk and dashing brown eyes of Alec Hamill.

“Hey, Scarlett.” His dark eyes wondered over her and his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth before slowly slipping back out. “I was wondering when I’d get to see your gorgeous face again, it’s been way too long.”

She offered him a tight smile, “Nice to see you too, Alec. Good to see some things never change.”

Scarlett turned back into the room, leaving the door open for her partner to enter. She didn’t have to look at him to know that he was assessing every part of the room, every hidden corner before he gave the door time to shut. Of course, Scarlett had done the same after booking the room. It became a habit that Isaiah had taught all his pupils; always assess your surroundings, old or new.

Alec’s eyes landed on the two double beds and his smirk grew. “Just like the good old days, huh?”

Honestly, Scarlett hadn’t given the room a second thought, she’d been so used to booking rooms with two beds whenever she was hunting with Sam and Dean. She shrugged and turned back to the article she was reading. “Its only for the next couple of days, while we get this hunt over and done with. Besides, its a lot more convenient if we stay in the same room.”

“Whatever you say, Red.” He winked at her and dumped his bag on the empty bed, Scarlett rolling her eyes at the nickname. She allowed herself to smile slightly as she pulled up a webpage on her laptop. “So, whadda we got? Ghost, vengeful spirit?” He asked as he began shuffling through his bag.

“Nope. Demons.”

“Really?” He stops shifting through his bag, his head turned to look at her as his brows raised slightly. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, the suspects who committed the murders say that they barely remember doing so, and one of the suspects who, somehow, does remember everything says that he had no control over his actions and says he was possessed.” She caught Alec watching her from the corner of her eye. “Also, he and two other eyewitnesses say they saw black smoke moments before and after the attack.”

Alec considered this for a moment, before asking, “Anything the suspects have in common?”

Scarlett shook her head, looking back over the police reports and suspect profiles scattered in front of her. “Other than the fact that they live in the same town, there’s nothing.”

She became all too aware of Alec’s presence as he was suddenly leaning over her, dark eyes skimming over the articles and reports Scarlett had reread hundreds of times. Those same dark eyes soon traveled from the table to catch her gaze. He began leaning in, so close she could feel his warm breath gliding over her face, and he just kept getting closer. Realising what was about to happen, Scarlett shot up from her chair in an instant, almost knocking it to the ground, and she backed away from him as quickly as she could. 

“We should head over to the station and see if we can find anything.” She said as she sifted through her bag, picking out her fed suit and heading to the bathroom to change.

About an hour later, the two hunters found themselves at the police station, interviewing the last suspect.

“I need you to tell us everything you remember, Mr. Vickson. Everything little detail, no matter how crazy you think it might be.” Scarlett asked, her voice and composure even as she sat at the steel table, her hands laced together in front of her. She and Alec watched every little movement David Vickson made, took note of every breath he breathed. 

He never made eye contact with her or Alec, who was currently leaning against the wall behind the suspect, his muscled arms crossed over his chest. “I-I remember everything.” David stuttered. His whole body hadn’t stopped shaking the moment he left the crime scene, according to his arresting officer. “Th-the knife-I-I tried to stop myself.” The tears he had been trying to hold back were now freely falling down his cheeks as he continued to stutter. “I never wanted to kill little Ally. I swear it, on my life.” He was sobbing uncontrollably now, his cuffed hands covering his face as his body shook.

Scarlett looked at her partner, who shrugged and looked away. “Mr. Vickson, is there anything else you remember? Anything at all that seemed out of the ordinary?”

The man sniffled, and removed his hands from his face, still avoiding her eyes. “I-I rem-remember this black smoke. It came out of nowhere. I-you don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”

Scarlett leaned forward just a little, her face still emotionless and hard as she said to him, “Mr. Vickson, there’s a lot of crazy in this world. You need to think; which type of crazy are you?” That was the first time David’s eyes met Scarlett’s, and, just like that, she and Alec walked out of the interrogation room. They interviewed the two witnesses before heading back to the motel.

The drive back to the motel was silent, the only sound being the rumble of the car engine and the comfortable hum of the radio. They were barely through the door when Scarlett had begun to unbutton the white shirt of her fed suit and kick off her heels. “It doesn’t make any sense,” she said as she headed to the bathroom with a new pair of clothes. “Why would a demon possess someone they don’t even know and go on a damn killing spree?” She left the bathroom door cracked open just a bit while she changed so Alec would still be able to hear her. “Are they doing it for kicks or is there some other motive we aren’t seeing? If so, then why be so careless about it? Why let someone see them body jumping? Its almost as if they’re doing it on purpose.” She emerged from the bathroom in a pair of shorts and a tank top. Alec’s eyes wandered over her body and he licked his bottom lip.

“You planning on going somewhere?” He asked.

“Yeah, I was planning on hitting the bar, maybe get a little something to eat.” She fished through the pockets of her fed jacket for her phone and becoming slightly confused and frustrated when she discovered it wasn’t in there. She picked up her purse and began looking for it there.

“Sounds like a plan. Mind if I join?” She had barely spared a single thought to him over building worry of losing her phone.

“Yeah, sure. Hey Al, have you seen my phone? I was so sure I left it in my pocket but it's not there.” She had begun turning things over in her carry bag. 

“You left it on the bedside table.” 

Her head immediately snapped up to the bedside table, and sure enough, there it was. She scooped it up immediately, finding a message and a missed call from Dean. “Thanks,” she mumbled to Alec. The case must really be getting to her if she couldn’t remember where she put her phone. Her heart sank as she read over the message.

I’m sorry. Please let me know if you’re ok. I miss you.

She quickly typed one back.

I’m sorry, too. I’m still alive and ok.

I miss you to death.

She shoved the phone into the pocket of her leather jacket. She looked up and found Alec watching her. Scarlett couldn’t quite place the expression on his face. Was it sadness? Guilt? She realized he had been giving her that look all day. Was there something he knew about the case that he wasn’t telling her? 

“Alec? Is everything ok?”

He shook himself out of it, his classic smirk appearing on his face once more. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired. You ready to go?”

Scarlett nodded her response and grabbed the car keys before the pair brushed out the door.

~~~~~

Dean had been worried sick when Scarlett had left. Sure, he was still mad as Hell at her, but he hated parting after a fight. And when she didn’t text him that first night to let him know she was ok, his worry and guilt only grew.

He was sitting in the kitchen, nursing another bottle of beer as he looked over a case in Bakersfield, California. This had to be the one she was covering, he thought. As he read more into it the more this feeling in the back of his mind grew; there was something off about the case, like an itch he couldn’t seem to scratch. 

“That the case Scarlett’s working on?” Sam had distracted him from his thoughts as he pulled out a beer from the fridge and sat opposite him on the table.

Dean looked up at his impossibly tall, younger brother. “I think so. She said there was a case in California but she didn’t say where. I'm betting this is it.” 

Dean moved the laptop so his brother could read over the article he pulled up, his brows pinching in concentration. “I don’t know, it just seems to…obvious. I thought demons were smarter than to let themselves be seen when they were jumping ships…” Sam took a sip of his beer.

“That’s exactly what I thought!” 

The brothers scrutinized over this information for a moment before a thought drifted into Dean’s mind, one that he forced himself to shake away. Sam noticed the flicker of change in his brother’s expression and asked, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Dean said as his eyes flicked to Sam and then back at the laptop screen. That same thought creeping up in the back of his mind again. 

Sam swallowed a mouthful of beer, hazel eyes studying his older brother. “You think its a trap?”

Dean turned his head to look out the window at the rotting pieces of scrap metal and ferruginous and decrepit cars. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips and sighed. “I honestly don’t know what to think anymore, Sammy.”  His attention turned to his phone as it went off with a message, a second one following shortly after. A wave of relief crashed over him when he saw they were from Scarlett.

She’s ok, Dean thought as he read over the messages. 

“You really love her, don’t you?” Sam asked. Dean looked at his brother, the corners of his mouth tipping up, and for a moment he considered coming clean and telling his brother the truth about him and Scarlett. 

He didn’t bother trying to hide his feelings from brother. All he said, as the corner of his lips tugged up, was, “Is it that obvious?” 

“Kinda. Why don’t you just tell her?”

Dean loosed a breath. “I can’t, Sammy. I just…I can’t.” 

With that, the older Winchester tipped back the rest of his beer his beer and shut his laptop. He leaned forward and crossed his forearms on the wooden table, making eye contact with his brother once again. “How pissed do think she’ll get if I head to Bakersfield?”

~~~~~

Scarlett Fairchild knew she should have walked out of that bar four whiskeys ago. She had gone to the bar for one, maybe two, beers and a burger. The hadn’t expected to be sitting at a table laughing over childhood memories with Alec Hamill, the nephew of her mentor and father figure, Isaiah Hamill. 

She downed two more shots when the world around her began to spin. 

Alec was still laughing when he started to recall another memory. “Remember that time we stole that bottle of whiskey from Isaiah’s study and hid in the barn?”

Scarlett’s smile grew at the memory. “Yes, we polished the whole bottle. And we were only twenty.”

“Remember what happened after that?” Scarlett barely noticed he was leaning a little closer to her.

She took in a sharp breath as she thought back to the night she and Alec had had sex among the scruffy blankets they had lazily laid in the small barn. Of course, that wasn't the first time they had slept together. Or the last. They were young, and it was a relationship Isaiah would have probably approved of, but then Scarlett’s brother had died. 

She was never the same after that. She would lock herself in her room and chase hunts on her own, there were fewer nights that she spent with Alec and soon she stopped herself from feeling anything at all for her partner. And then she met Dean Winchester, the man that had changed her life for the better. She fell hard and fast for the man and so did he. She knew Isaiah would never accept him, Dean was a danger and a weakness in his eyes, so they decided to keep their relationship hidden from everyone, including Sam.

Scarlett burst into uncontrollable laughter as Alec’s glass of whiskey spilled across the table, the amber liquid traveling around the empty glasses of whiskey and shots and beer which were littered across the table before dripping over the edge. Her laughter died when she looked at Alec. He was so close to her she could feel his warm breath fanning over her face, smell the alcohol that came with it. She could see the light scars that were littered along his temple and the curved one that ran from the corner of his eye to his cheekbone. 

The alcohol running through her brain barely allowed her to register what was happening before Alec closed the small gap between them with a heavy kiss. His firm lips moved against hers, waiting for her to push him away, but to his surprise - and hers - she kissed him back. His chest pressed against hers and his hand cupped her jaw as the kiss deepened. 

Scarlett abruptly broke away. Her eyes searched his and he smiled and was about to kiss her again, only this time she didn’t let him. She pushed him off her, sending him crashing to the floor, a bemused and slightly hurt look appearing on his face. She didn’t spare him a single glance as she raced out the door and into her truck, ignoring the spinning in her head and sudden nausea in her stomach.

She made it halfway to the motel before she had to pull over and hurl her guts up. She braced herself against the truck while she waited for another round. Satisfied that the nausea had passed, Scarlett sat behind the wheel of her truck and shut her eyes for a moment, allowing the events of her day to sink in.

She was interrupted by her phone which rang loudly in her pocket. 

She didn’t need to look at the screen to know that it was Alec calling her, most likely to apologize for his actions. She was tempted to ignore it and everything inside her told her to, and maybe it was the alcohol but she answered anyway

“You have exactly thirty seconds to explain yourself and I’m hanging up.” 

“Scarlett, there’s no time for that now.” The worry in his voice made her freeze. “I just got a call from the sheriff, someone tipped him off about a new victim.”

Scarlett felt her heart stop. She couldn’t lose another innocent life to this damned demon, she wouldn’t allow it. “Where?” She ordered.

She could almost feel the hesitation on his end of the line. “I’ll send you the address and meet you there.” She was about to hang up but stopped herself when she heard his protest. “Scarlett, wait!”

“What is it?”

“Just…I’m sorry.” The line beeped, signaling that he had hung up. She couldn’t understand why he sounded so upset, she didn’t let herself think too much of it when her phone buzzed with the address and she tore down the road to an old farmhouse just outside of town.

~~~~~

Alec Hamill knew what Isaiah had planned for Scarlett. The knew two days before he was even called on this stupid hunt. His uncle had informed him what to do and to do it right or there would be consequences - for him and Scarlett. 

Alec Hamill knew he should have warned Scarlett about what waited for her at that house, but his uncle had warned him of the consequences if he were to do so. 

He should have tried to get her back to the motel, at least she’d be safe there. He should have tried harder to get her back to that awful farm in Louisiana he called home. But Isaiah’s warning was playing over and over in his head every time he thought about saving her. It was seared into his mind like the order of the alphabet.

She needs to learn her lesson, if you get in the way of that, I will kill her and your little sister slowly. And I’ll make you watch.

Alec knew better than to take Isaiah’s words as a threat. They were a promise. And Isaiah Hamill never breaks his promises.

So, instead of warning Scarlett about the awaiting nightmare, Alec drove in silence toward the motel. Allowing Scarlett Fairchild, the girl he had once allowed himself to love, to walk right into Isaiah Hamill’s death trap.

~~~~~

Armed with her gun, a demon blade sheathed at her side and a small knife in each boot, Scarlett slowly tip-toed inside the quiet house. She didn’t dare turn the lights on; it would only alert the occupants of the house of her presence. 

As she crept passed the kitchen (which was almost difficult with the way her head spun from the alcohol), she noticed a dark pool of liquid snaking around the edge of the island, lying beside it was the twisted body of an older man. She didn’t bother checking the mangled body for vitals as she started mounting the stairs.

The creak of the floorboards on the second floor had her snapping to attention and she released the safety pin on her gun.

She reached the top of the steps, immediately noticing the lights were switched on in one room, and coming from that room, Scarlett could hear the sound of sniffles and soft crying.

As she slowly crept around to the room and gently pushed open the door, gun held out in front of her, she took in every detail of the small nursery. The pastel-blue colour of the walls, the white dresser in one corner. A white crib was situated in the center of the room, beneath a brightly coloured mobile which rotated freely from the ceiling. In another corner was a pile of different coloured pillows - all of which were drenched in the blood of an older woman who was being cradled by a young girl. 

The girl looked no older than eight or nine years, her smooth cheeks stained with tears and blood. Scarlett lowered her gun, engaging the safety pin and tucking it back into the waistband of her jeans. She had to focus on getting the girl out of the house so she could clean it out. “Sweetheart?” The girl didn’t look up at her. Scarlett slowly crept closer. “Sweetie, my name is Scarlett. I’m here to help you. Are you hurt?” The girl gave no indication that she had heard her, and as Scarlett continued to close in on the girl, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was…not right. 

Scarlett was only a foot or two away from the small girl when her choked sobs ceased and she slowly looked up at the hunter, a twisted smile plastered on her face. “Hello, Scarlett.” The girl said. “We’ve been waiting for you.” 

Scarlett’s gun was out and cocked the second the young girl's eyes flashed black, only for it to be thrown across the room by an invisible force. The door behind her slammed and Scarlett spun around only to find the broken man from the kitchen, his eyes the same black-orbs as the girls, to be blocking her only way out. 

She pulled the demon blade from its sheath at her side and advanced toward the man. She barely made it two steps toward him before she was thrown against the dresser, the items resting on top cluttering to the floor. There were footsteps and her head was being yanked up by her hair. She tried to twist out of the hold and stab her attacker with the demon knife but he grabbed her wrist and twisted it enough to hurt and drop the blade but not break. Her free hand reached up to grope at the hand which was fisted fiercely in her hair. 

As she struggled - and failed - to break from the man’s hold she hadn’t noticed the girl get up from her spot in the corner and move over to the crib, reach in and remove a small bundle of bloodied blankets, and make her way over to Scarlett. The man held her head in place, forcing her to look as the girl pushed way blankets - revealing the body of a small baby.

Its tiny throat was split from ear to ear.

Scarlett swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and tried to turn away from the horrific sight in front of her, her head was violently jerked back. “Such a shame,” the demon girl said, as she traced her finger over the infant’s bloodied face. “So many wasted souls because of one disobedient, little whore.” 

“Who are you? What the hell do you want with me?” Scarlett spat. The girl only smiled her twisted smile and gave a slight nod to the demon who held her in place. She couldn’t see the man’s face but she would bet anything that his expression mirrored that of the girl’s. 

He didn’t give her alcohol-clouded brain any time to think as he threw her down on the floor, her hands being the only thing preventing her from colliding face-first with the carpeted floor. The demon didn’t say anything as he gripped her arm and lifted her to her feet only to deliver a hard punch to her cheek which sent her staggering backwards. His fist collided with her stomach, knocking the air out of her before releasing the grip on her arm, watching as she crumpled to the floor.

He advanced on her again, this time his fingers wrapping around her throat and pinning her against the wall. His other hand coiled into a fist and he punched her hard in the face again and again and again…

Scarlett’s vision began to blur around the edges and her sore eyelids began to droop. She could feel the blood trickle from the split skin on her brow and cheekbone and lip, she could feel it dripping from her nose. 

The demon let go of her and she fell to the ground like a stone, gasping greedily for air. She wasn’t prepared when the demon’s foot flew straight into her stomach. He stood away, grinning to himself, clearly pleased with his work.

She pushed herself up on shaky arms and slumped against the wall, narrowed her eyes at the demon and with the little strength she had left, said to him, “Is that all you got?” 

The demon crouched down beside her and ran a thick finger along the side of her face and lifted her chin so she was looking directly at him. The grin he gave her was so much worse than the girl’s; it was a promise of pain and death. His voice oozing with venom. “Oh, Angel, if only you knew what we have planned for you.” He leaned in so his breath scraped along her ear. “This is barely the beginning.”

His fist colliding with her head was the last thing she remembered before she blacked out.

[wizardsnwookies]

TPR 050718 - The Lifting of the Veil

The bloodcurdling scream cut through the late afternoon just as Galumak was exiting the Store with his prize gripped between eager fingers. Looking down the dusty road towards the direction of the cry he saw startled villagers exiting their homes, murmuring among themselves as to what could have disturbed their quiet little town. Soon a curious crowd began filing their way down towards the Eastern side of town, towards the hill where the great stone temple watched over them all.

Galumak was almost knocked over as three men dressed in armor pushed their way past him in an urgent run, long swords swaying at their hips with each stride. The local militia from the looks of it. Three men, one perhaps older than he should be for this line of work, the other perhaps a bit more portly, such were the ways of peace keepers in these small towns he found.

He followed behind the rest of the crowd, taking his time, trying not to draw any undue attention to himself. The discovery of the hastily stashed crossbows in the Village Store had made him weary. He was making people nervous, and it was yet to be see who had a reason to be and who was just reacting to a stranger in his town. The time had come to watch and see how things played out.

---

“We have to hide the body.” Lash stooped down and tried to lift the crumpled woman by the shoulders, but she was much heavier than she looked.

“Why? We were only protecting ourselves.” Raam was perhaps cooler headed than the situation would call for, but Lash had a urgency about them, a slight panic in their eyes that hinted at something much more than the carpenter and his wife.

“Yes, but they might not see it that way.”

“Really? Because I have this rather nasty welt that might be convincing.” A large purple splotch had developed where the carpenter’s hammer had struck. Even against the ruddy red tiefling skin, it stood out.

Lash took a deep breath and calmed themselves. This was not Hookhill, there was no reason there would be any preexisting prejudice against her, aside from the ever present racism small town humans tended to hold as a some kind of armor.

“You’re right...you’re right. We’ll just explain what happened, calmly, and everything should be fine.” Lash moved to stand but their eye caught a shimmer on the edge of the woman’s blade. Carefully lifting it from the sand large clumps of debris and dirt clung to the edge, wet from something smeared across the steel.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure.” Lash sniffed the sword and caught a bitter scent of something over the familiar smell of iron. “Some kind of poison from the smell of it. Biological maybe, defiantly not from any kind of plant.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I’ve lived in those forests for a while now, I’ve dealt with the bandits that live there, so I’ve had my run in or two with plant based toxins.”

“Good to know...” Raam looked around them and noticed a crowd forming. Among them he saw the woman and her three sons from earlier, their faced expressionless, but he felt their eyes on him. Towards the West he saw three men dressed in armor running their way towards them. “Here come the officials, let me do the talking.

Lash nodded, straightening and carefully strapping the sword to their side, taking care to preserve the toxin on the blade. By the time it was secure, the eldest of the three men had pushed through the crowd and took a position of authority between the other two flanking him. His mustache was peppered with white, and though sweat moistened his brow he had not seemed to be as out of shape as the other two.

“Gods...Joseph...what happened here? Who are you?”

“I am Brother Raam Osteres of the Samaritans, I received word that this town may be in need of aid and came to investigate.” Raam stood forward, straight backed, and opened his cloak, revealing a distressed emblem of two open hands over his heart.

“My companion Lash and I were asking this poor man and his wife a few questions when we were attacked by the woman. She came rushing from that door behind us with a longsword that appears to be laced with some kind of poison.”

Lash motioned towards her hip where the sword hung, the toxin still preserved and creating a glossy finish on the steel. Raam continued.

“She was felled in self defense with a single blow to the head. The carpenter then attacked, crazed, screaming about some kind of God of Serpents. He struck me and I was forced to defend myself. We only came to investigate, to help. We did not want this.” Raam motioned to the two bodies on the ground, adding a weight to his final statement that no one in the crowd failed to feel.

The older man looked over the scene briefly as he listened and when Raam had completed, he simply shook his head sadly.

“Well, that’s a lot to take in. You’re damn lucky you’re a brother of the Samaritans, otherwise you’re story would be a very hard pill for me to swallow. Even so, you’ll understand that I can’t take that statement alone at face value.”

“Of course not, we’ll help you any way we can to clear this up...” Raam paused, his eyebrows raised questioningly in search of a name.

“Constable Donovan, and I’d appreciate that.”

“Well, we can start right now.” Lash stepped in, feeling slightly more confident in their position with the lawmen seemingly reasonable folk. “Are you familiar with the Carpenter’s work?”

“Of course, there isn’t a home here that don’t have at least one piece from his shop.”

“Ok, so you’d agree his usual quality is fairly represented by the majority of items on display here?”

Constable Donovan took a brief moment to look over the shop, taking in the finely crafted chairs, tools, jewelry boxes, and other small wood craft items that littered the shopfront. “Ayup.”

“Good, so tell me what you see there.” Lash stepped aside and motioned to the piece behind her, currently in progress when they arrived.

“Looks to me like something that’s attempting to be a chair but can’t quite manage it.”

“Right. That was made by the same man as everything else here. The man was unhinged Constable, raving about some kind of Serpent God. And his wife attacked us out of nowhere wielding a poisoned blade. I’m sorry to say but I think you have a cult on your hands here.”

The two deputies looked up to their superior with unreadable expressions by all save the Constable who simply held up a hand to them and nodded before clearing his throat. “Ahem, perhaps these are things best discussed in private. These poor folk have been through enough shock for one day I think.”

His tired eyes looked up over the two strangers’ shoulders, further down the road and acknowledge a solemn procession of hooded figures carrying a litter down the small hill where the great marble temple sat. “Right, well. Let’s leave the priests to their work shall they?” He turned to the short, plump deputy to his left. “Hulbar, why don’t you make sure everyone finds their way home. Grover and I will take our guests back to the office to talk this over.”

“Yes sir.” The man waddled his way towards the crowd and calmly began shooing people back towards their homes. Lash and Raam watched for a moment before following the Constable down the road to the Western part of town, leaving behind the foul stench of death in their wake.

---

Galumak wiped a dribbling trail of wine off his chin and watched as the strange group made their way back towards where he first entered town. The fat one was still wrangling the locals who all appeared to be human. This made the two elves standing behind the cover of one of the smaller buildings stand out all the more.

They were both shorter than most elves he’d known, but not terribly so, just enough to make you think twice as to whether or not they were in fact elves. Their ears were still a dead give a way, which was why they attempted to hide them under a curtain of platinum blonde hair. One trimmed theirs at the shoulder and curled slightly towards the bottom, the other having perfectly straight locks that fell to the small of his back. If their facial features were any indication there was a strong familial resemblance, brothers maybe, and both hid light armor under common clothes.

The two made more than a couple of glances his way, enough that it was clearly more than a curiosity. Each time he was sure to lock eyes with them, letting them know he saw them and giving away no hint towards his motivations. If it registered, he couldn’t tell, as they were far more interested in the pair of strangers walking with the constable and his deputy.

These must be the two that moved in across from the Stables, he thought to himself. All the excitement must have brought them out of hiding. He followed some distance behind as the two made a convincing show of looking inconspicuous as they tailed the group making their way towards the Constable’s office. Chatting idly to each other while making a slow wandering stride on the side of the dirt road, stopping to comment on this house or the view of the pond. Whoever they were, they were good.

Eventually the Teifling and Elf were led inside  a small wooden structure with barred windows towards the rear of the building. The two elves meanwhile took position behind the Golden Grain Inn, whispering softly to each other, any pretense of subterfuge tossed aside as any view of them was now obstructed. Galumak leaned up against the side of the Inn facing the road and crossed his arms in front of his barreled chest.

Three sets of strangers in town now including himself. One group following the other. This was unexpected to say the least, and made his next move all the more difficult. At this point he had no idea who in this town was to be trusted, if anyone at all. According to the stable owner, both stranger and local alike were to be under suspicion. Unfortunately that meant all he could do was wait and see how things transpired. His hand once again fell to the neck of the wine bottle hanging at his side. At least I have something to pass the time, he thought.

---

Lash felt uneasy entering the small building, and when the door closed behind them, they felt every muscle in their body tense and ready for flight. A Constable’s office was not exactly a comforting setting for them to begin with, certainly not any more so having just slain two villagers. The Constable’s boots fell hard on the wood floor as he slowly rounded his desk and leaned with both hands on the top, letting his tired head sag between hunched shoulders.

“Alright, so what’s this you’re saying about a cult? Go slowly, and tell me everything Joseph told you.”

Raam calmly reiterated the incident again making sure each and every detail, no matter how small, was addressed. As he spoke Lash could see the ghostly image of a slight woman carrying a sword toppling over at their feet, dead. They shook their head, trying to dissipate the memory. They barely struck her at all.

“...and that is all there is to tell, Constable.” Raam’s conclusion broke into Lash’s thoughts, snapping them back to attention. “I believe given the circumstances our suspicions are not unwarranted.”

“Dammit Joseph...” Constable Donovan’s voice was mournful, his head shaking slowly side to side as he straightened himself and put his hands to his face exhaling a loud sigh as he pulled them slowly down over his wrinkled skin. “...you always did have a mouth on you.” Tired eyes looked back at the strangers in his office. “I’m sorry he told you, really, I am.”

“Told us what?” Lash looked over at Raam, he was staring straight through the constable, his mouth a grim line across his face.

“The truth. There is some kind of Serpent Cult here, and they are all in on it.”

Behind them the deputy drew the long sword from his hip and stepped between them and the front door. Behind the desk the Constable put a hand on his hilt, not yet drawing, but slowly making his way back around.

“Not all of us, not yet. Some are not ready to accept the gifts my God offers.”

“Like the people on the East side of town?”

The Constable betrayed a twinge of regret, a slight curling on the edge of his lips. “They had refused her, right to her face. Can you imagine that?”

Raam turned his head just enough to get a glance at the space behind him. He noted the deputy standing in front of the closed door. The door, that was not locked.

“Good people by the sounds of it. So, what happens now?”

“Well, it’s just an awful shame you are a Samaritan, an awful shame.” At this point, cold steel was drawn from the Constable’s hip. “Otherwise, we could have just run you out of town. The word of a set of horns ain’t worth all that much to some people, even if your story is backed up by an Elf. But people tend to listen to Samaritans.”

Raam had heard enough, he knew where things were headed. He reached deep inside himself, feeling the power that coursed through his very blood, and touched it. With a loud crash the door behind them blew open as if a powerful gust of wind had flown through the room, nearly ripping it off it’s hinges. Without any exchange between them Raam and Lash turned on their heels and bolted from the room out into the waning light of dusk.

They were just crossing the threshold, Raam’s cloaks already fluttering ahead of them as he leaped of the front steps, when Lash felt the air beside her thrust aside by cold steel. The deputy was at the ready, and though surprised, managed to gather himself enough to lash out at them. The blade dug itself into the floor beside them, leaving a deep gash in the grain. It stuck fast and for a moment the man was stopped dead in his tracks as he struggled to remove it. 

Without thinking Lash gripped the hilt of the sword on her hip, and pulled it free from the slight loop of leather. They felt cold iron cut through the fabric of his trousers and into the flesh underneath. As the man grunted in pain Lash spun and bolted out the door, leaping from the porch and into the dirt next to Raam. Their eyes were scanning the area, not sure at all what or who they were looking for. At this point who could they trust?

There, leaning up against a long building with several chairs and tables laid out on the porch, a scarred half-orc draining a wine bottle in heavy gulps. In a town full of humans he stuck out like a sore thumb. The stranger was the best chance they had.

---

“Help! They’re crazed!” The elf shouted towards him, voice faultering slightly in desperation. Next to them the Teifling stood defiant, tall, staring back at the doorway as the two law men emerged with long swords drawn. There had definitely been some kind of scuffle, the younger of the two was bleeding from a wound on his leg, stumbling and leaning against the pillars on the porch. He looked wrong, his face growing pale, his breathing labored. The older man oddly looked far more intact, walking calmly, face unreadable.

Galumak lowered the bottle from his lips but did not move from side of the inn. Getting involved at the wrong time would put him and his investigation in a bad position. All he knew at this point was two people were dead, these two strangers were involved, and they were running from the law of this town. It could go either way really.

The Teifling ended the debate for him. Raising a taloned finger he pointed towards the older of the two men, and somehow, his voice boomed like thunder, amplified by whatever ancient power lay dormant in his bloodline.

“Constable Donovan, on behalf of the Samaritans and our noble Queen whom we serve, I call you out as a traitor and a heretic of the worst order!”

That’s all I needed to hear, Galumak thought to himself. He straightened and stopped the wine bottle, letting it hang to his side and drew his hatchet.

What followed happened so quickly it barely took time to register. The younger deputy became worse with every step he took towards the two. His sword swung impotently in his hand, as if he barely had any strength left to wield it. More often than not he spent his time trying to stand up from his latest stumble into the dirt. His breathing now a loud rasp, a desperate attempt to force fresh air down into his lungs.

While at first in positions to flee, the two strangers now saw that they were no longer at equal numbers. With one last gasp, the sickly form of the deputy fell onto his back into the dirt, stopping the Constable in his tracks and forcing him to re think his options. In the end, he chose the cowards way out, and attempted to flee down the northern route past the front of the inn. For an older man he was fast. Galumak was impressed.

The old man didn’t get far. From his position he couldn’t see which of them cast the spell, regardless, a cluster of briars and vines pushed their way out of the ground, spiraling and twisting their way towards the waning sunlight. The Constable stumbled, the vegetation tangling itself around his ankles. For the briefest of moments, panic set in on his face. He kicked and tore his legs away from the ground in long sweeping motions, taking long strands of vines with him. In a few moments he was free again to move. He turned on his heels once again, his feet pounding away on the dirt towards freedom.

Galumak felt the breeze of an arrow gently brush away a lock of hair as the missile was fired from somewhere behind him. It found its target in the old man’s shoulder, knocking him down once again to be tangled in the vines that littered the road. All three of the strangers on the road turned to see the two elves had revealed themselves. One with a slight smile on his lips as he lowered a bow, the other slowly making his way back to the East towards a small house not too far from the Stables.

“Collect him.” The archer’s voice was melodious, with only the barest of hints of a Faralin accent. “We have much to discuss.”

---

The small house was furnished in only the barest sense of the word. A small table and chair was pushed up against one of the windows facing the Golden Grain in. A small pile of parchment papers and quill lay upon the table, notes furiously scribbled in ink. On the floor of the great room two bedrolls were laid out. Lash thought this odd at first, as their kind didn’t so much sleep as such, however they shrugged it off as a minor comfort and shelter from the cold wooden floor.

The half-orc lumbered into the great room carrying the Constable over his shoulder and threw him down into a chair prepared for him in the middle of the room. Immediately the taller of the two elves began tying the old man up with bundles of silken rope.

“We appreciate your help.” Lash gave Galumak a nod, noticing a slight wheeze in his breathing. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

“I��m fine.” Galumak shrugged them off. “Figure we’re all here for the same reason, right?”

“Apparently so. I am Lash and this is my companion Raam.” Lash offered their hand and immediately regretted the gesture as the half-orc’s firm grip nearly crushed their hand.

“Galumak. Pleasure...”

“Yes, introductions are in order.” Standing, having completed the securing of the Constable, the taller elf offered a slight bow. “I am Dorian, and that is my brother Llywillian.” He gestured over to his brother who had moved to the hearth, rousing a small fire out of the coals and preparing a small cast iron kettle filled with water. Dorian then turned to Raam with bright eyes.

“Well met, Brother. We were not aware the Samaritan’s had caught wind of the rumors yet. Had we known they were going to send someone we would have told them of our presence here.” When Dorian reached out his hand to the Teifling Raam noticed the emblem of the open hands tattooed on the underside of his arm, just below the wrist. It was elegantly done, the ink appearing in a pale blue as opposed to the traditional ink black. The color of the brotherhood.

“Well met indeed. It was quite recent I assure you. What brings you two here then if not the brotherhood?”

“A personal request from an old friend, though I assure you we are on the same mission.” Dorian looked down towards the Constable who had already awakened from the unconcious state the pain in his shoulder had sent him into. Llywillian had dressed the wound just enough to staunch the bleeding, but there was still the dull throbbing pain. Donovan seemed not to feel it, as his thrashing against his bindings grew more and more desperate.

“Look who’s awake. We’ve been keeping our eye on this one and his deputies for a while now. We had suspected they were part of things here but could not prove it, until today.”

“The stable master told me you’ve been here for a few weeks.” Galumak leaned up against the wall, massive arms crossed over his chest. “You haven’t managed to find proof in such time?”

“They are careful.” Llywillian chimed in. He punctuated the statement with a quick prod at the coals. Next to him five small cups had been produced, only two of which appeared to be more than a simple hollowing out of wood. Obviously they had not been expecting guests. “Even in the dark of night, their movements are hidden will. They continue all outward appearances during the day, no obvious change of schedule whatsoever. And seeing as this town sees very little visitors, there’s no obvious outward aggression to be displayed.”

“Have you managed to find out anything?” Lash couldn’t manage to hide their frustration. Here they had been in town for less than a day and had been attacked twice. Obviously, these two were taking a far more slow and quiet approach.

“Of course, we have not been sitting here sipping tea all day.” Dorian smiled, appearing to take no offense to their tone. “The Golden Grain Inn appears to be a center of activity. When we have managed to catch some skullduggery going on, it has usually been people sneaking off in the night to meet in one of the back rooms there.”

“Who?”

“This one for starters,” Dorian again gestured to the Constable, who was giving them all a rather foul look. “His deputies, the woman and her sons from down the street, the carpenter and his wife...although I’m sure by now you’ve guessed that.”

“The family who own the Village Store are in on it as well, I expect.” Galumak chimed in. “The stablemaster said they disappeared for several days not too long ago and then just sort of appeared again out of nowhere. I was there earlier and got a glimpse at a pair of crossbows stashed away in back.”

The brothers gave each other a look before Llywillian replied, his tone suddenly contemplative. “Yes, that does seem to be the pattern we’ve noticed. We would see a lack of movement in select places over town before a return to schedule. We thought nothing of it as we were concentrating on the Golden Grain.”

“How many were there when you visited?” Dorian asked.

“The husband, his wife, and two sons.”

“No daughter?”

“Not that I saw, why?”

Again, the brothers exchanged a look. “They have a young girl who helps move the heavier items. Strong girl for her size, we had the pleasure of meeting her once.”

“Funny, the man had me move a few bags of seed because supposedly his sons couldn’t manage it.” Galumak’s eyebrow crooked, he suddenly had become quite concerned for someone he had not yet even met. This was not new to his personality, but it was still something that never ceased to amaze him about himself. No matter what prejudice and fear was thrown his way, he had yet to become the cynic.

“There’s a house at the end of town that appears to be abandoned.” Raam too felt a growing concern, a blossoming of dread that was seeded when they explored the interior of the home, finding every evidence of a life simply stopped in time. “It is as if the people there had just disappeared out of nowhere. I wonder why it is that some return and others do not.”

Dorian smiled and took a meaningful step towards the bound Constable. “Good thing we have someone we can ask about that.”

Buy Me a Coffee

[bluephoenixdruidicprincess]

My Super Special Awesome Sauce Supernatural Re-Watch -- Season 1 Episode 15, The Benders

Welcome to my Supernatural Re-Watch project in which I'm re-watching every episode of Supernatural. Why? Because I want to. I've kind of made a name for myself in the Shadowhunters fandom for my love-hate relationship with the Freeform show. So I thought, hey, since I'm reviewing a sub-par show that constantly disappoints me (Shadowhunters), I should also review a show that I love. This way, when I'm critical of Shadowhunters, my audience can get an understanding of where I come from. What it is I look for in good story telling. Or they could think I'm a hypocritical idiot. Either way, I'm doing this. And also, I love Supernatural and I'm really just looking for an excuse to watch the show and then talk about it. Here we have episode 15, The Benders. 

RECAP

Our teaser opens with a young kid watching tv when he hears a noise outside in the parking lot. As he looks out the window he sees a guy get dragged underneath a car and then taken away. When we see our boys, they're currently impersonating state police to get a witness statement from the boy. Afterwards, they head over to a local bar to converse on what's happening here. Dean thinks it could just be a simple kidnapping case and have nothing to do with the kind of stuff they're looking for. Sam disagrees because Papa Winchester marked the area in his journal as possible hunting grounds for phantom attacks. Apparently, this county has a higher missing persons rate than any other county in the state. Definitely suspicious. They decide to investigate further in the morning. Sam suggests they stay at a motel some 5 miles back. Dean, of course, berates Sam for wanting to turn in so early, but nonetheless agrees. He tells Sam he'll meet him by the car. Dean has to use the bathroom.

Sam goes outside and begins to have this feeling that he's being watched. He looks underneath one of the cars and is relieved when he only sees a cat. However, we then get a POV from the bottom of the car that suggests there may be something else there. We cut over to see Dean entering the parking lot but Sam is nowhere in sight. Dean is now very scared that something has happened to Sam but he also sees a traffic camera. He grabs his state police badge the next day and heads over to the police station. He weaves a story to the policewoman that his cousin, Sam Winchester, went missing last night. The policewoman agrees that the traffic cam should give some insight but that Dean should also file a missing person's report. Dean obviously doesn't want to do this considering he and Sam don't actually live normal or all that legal lives. Dean is able to get the policewoman to skip the missing persons report. He appeals to the woman's better nature by asking her if any of these missing people in this county ever came back. That's a no for her so she agrees that they can skip the missing persons report. They can't afford to waste time. Every second counts. The policewoman gets the traffic cam photos and they see the vehicle that most likely took Sam. A beat down vehicle with brand new plates which they can only surmise that the brand new plates were stolen. As they're driving on the highway trying to figure out the vehicle's path, the policewoman gets a report back stating that the badge number Dean gave her is actually a stolen badge and Dean looks nothing like its original owner. Dean begs her once again, despite him lying to her, to please let him continue on this investigation. She reluctantly agrees.

What's been going on with Sam throughout all of this? Well he's been taken to the backwoods country and currently locked up in a steel cage. He meets our teaser victim there and realizes that they're not dealing with anything supernatural here. They're dealing with plain old humans. Sam ends up pulling one of the wires around his cage to try and get some sort of advantage and after doing so, the teaser victim's cage opens. The victim decides to take his chance and run. Sam begs him not to. That this was too easy and the guy is walking into a trap. But alas, it was all in vain. The guy makes it outside, finds a knife on the ground that was very obviously placed and begins to run until these redneck hicks corner him with spears and I think you can imagine what happened to him. Poor Sam is still trapped in his cage having to hear the screams. 

Cut to the next day, Dean and the policewoman are at a gas station and Dean asks why the policewoman didn't turn Dean in. She tells him that a few years back, her brother also went missing and was never found. She figures helping Dean will help her find out what happened to her brother. They eventually find the property that they believe is most likely where Sam was taken and the policewoman handcuffs Dean to the car. After all, in her eyes, he's a civilian. As an officer of the law, she can't involve civilians. She walks down the path and finds a house. When she knocks on the door, a little girl with really ratty hair comes out. The policewoman tries to conversate with the girl but it's not working out for her and she's eventually knocked unconscious by the girl's father. She's then thrown into a cage where Sam is at. When she comes to, she tells Sam that his cousin is out looking for him. And indeed, a few seconds later, Dean walks into where they're being held and Sam and Dean are finally reunited. Dean realizes the locks on the cages are electronic. He heads out to try and find the keys that'll disable the locks. 

He goes into the house and finds photos of this family with all of the dead victims. He also finds a bunch of jars with some undisclosed human parts in them. Dean finds the keys but before he can leave the house, he's cornered by the girl who calls for help. There's a skirmish and Dean is taken out by a sneak attack. When he wakes up, he's tied to a chair surrounded by this family of most likely inbred hillbilly rednecks. The leader of the group discloses that hunting is what they do. And that humans are the best prey of all. They ask him if anyone else is coming and then force him to choose who should be hunted next. Dean at first won't choose but eventually relents. He chooses Sam to be hunted next most likely because he knows that Sam can fend for himself and will have a fighting chance long enough for Dean to get out. But the leader throws Dean in for a loop when he orders that both Sam and the policewoman be killed in their cages. 

When the guy shows up to kill Sam, he opens up the cage but Sam is able to throw a piece of metal to deflect the bullet. He's then able to disarm the man, free the girl and they try and find a hiding place that will give them a fighting chance. The rest of the family shows up and eventually Sam and the policewoman are able to overtake them. The policewoman has the leader wounded and at gunpoint. She tells Sam to go get Dean. She can watch the leader. Sam, of course, is a little dubious about leaving this woman alone with him. No doubt he feels that if he walks away, that man is as good as dead. It's probably what Sam would've done. But he relents and leaves. The policewoman asks the man why he does this and he tells her, "because it's fun." And the camera pans to the house as we hear a gunshot go off. 

Sam and Dean come out of the house. It's revealed that Dean has locked the girl in a closet. They meet up with the policewoman and she tells them that the leader tried to escape so she shot him. Sam and Dean are definitely not buying that but neither of them is going to call her out on it. Afterall, if they were in her situation, they probably would've the same thing. Maybe even worse. The policewoman tells them that she's called in the FBI, state police, the works and they'll be on the property in a couple of hours so Sam and Dean should probably skidaddle, which they do. 

Thoughts

This is just a nice, fun filler kind of episode again. Nothing that's too overtly serious or anything. It doesn't have much to do with the season's overarching plot. Just another urban myth turned on its head. And it's a fun little episode. We got a mystery, we got Dean worried about Sam. It's really nice. I enjoy it. 

In this episode, when Dean asks this policewoman for help, she runs Sam’s name through the database and what comes up is Sam's basic information. But what also comes up is Dean. She tells Dean that according to these records, Sam has a deceased older brother who was wanted for murder. So a nice little call back to Skin. It's good to have continuity in your show, you know. Something that Shadowhunters struggles with. 

Favorite Quotes

MOTHER: Tell the officers what you were watching on tv. KID: Godzilla vs Mothra. DEAN: That's my favorite Godzilla movie. So much better than the original. KID: Totally. DEAN: (points to Sam) He likes the remake. KID: Yuck. I love this interaction so much. It's interesting because in the first few episodes Dean says that he doesn't like kids but he sure does interact with them well. It's a recurring theme we're going to see a lot with this show. Kids really like Dean. Well, I guess it’s more like everyone likes Dean technically.

DEAN: Sam's my responsibility. Another theme carrying on from the pilot. Dean's childhood trauma just driving him even as an adult.

DEAN: People are crazy. This is another theme we'll see throughout the show. Sam and Dean fight ghosts, monsters, demons but sometimes it's the humans that are the biggest freaks of them all. At least with ghosts, they're motivated by something understandable like revenge. Monsters, you know, vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, they're just trying to find a way to survive. Demons have an agenda. Who they hurt is completely contingent on their agenda. But when humans do terrible things? There's no sense to it. They don't have any excuse. They're just crazy. And we're going to see that come up a few times in later seasons.

DEAN: (to crazy family) Eat me. No, no wait. You actually might. This is just funny and like he said before, people are crazy. There's nothing Dean wouldn't put past them at this point.

Earlier in the episode we had Dean say this: DEAN: You got taken down by humans? You're getting rusty there, kiddo.

We got this at the end of the episode: SAM: So you got side-lined by a thirteen year old girl? DEAN: Shut up. SAM: I'm just saying. You're getting rusty there, kiddo. Perfect callback. Perfect comedic timing. It's a great mark to leave the episode on.

So yeah, B on this episode. It's just a nice little filler kind of episode. It has an urban myth turned on its head, has mystery, has action, has danger, has witty one liners, has Winchesters worrying about each other. A fun episode. A little bit of everything you’re looking for in an episode of Supernatural.

If you have any thoughts on the episode, I'd love to hear them. Just keep in mind that these are my thoughts and opinions on the episode so even if you don't agree with them, please respect them. Also, as always, no spoilers for Season 13.

[lexiseigneur]

Chapter eighteen: Truth

Ao3

The SUV disappeared inside a large building and Brevil wondered if this was the last time he would see the light of day, even if that light was dim and dusty. The black and red square symbol of the Partnership was nowhere to be seen and that only mildly intrigued the scientist. He did not need to be a genius to conclude that a secret execution facility would be kept discreet. They parked in what looked like a warehouse. Half a dozen men ran around the space, depositing items on the numerous shelves. An older man appeared to be melting metal in an oven and that gave Brevil pause. Then again he could not expect to understand everything that would be happening in there. They might be using that building for more than a single purpose.

The Strigoi by his side was the only bloodsucker present. All the others were humans and every single one looked like a thug. They sported comfortable and dark clothing but no Partnership uniforms. After a word from Augustin, a young man with a large scar across his face shoved a bundle of clothes in his arms. They smelled freshly washed. Then he was taken two levels up by Quinlan and quietly directed inside a small bedroom with its own personal bathroom. Behind him, the lock did not click. The scientist stood in the middle of the small spartan but clean room. His greying brows almost touched as he peered around. This was very strange.

After a very hot shower that he savored just as much as the sandwich, the scientist stared at the doorknob. He was quite positive that the door had not been locked by the Strigoi. Biting his lips, he twisted the brass handle, opened the door just a crack and observed. The corridor was empty and all he could see were other metal doors. He ventured out and when he passed another opened door he pushed the steel panel and looked. It was a bedroom with piles of books in a corner and an undone bed.

“Doctor…please follow me. We need to talk.”

The scientist startled and held his bony sternum. Suddenly weak, he leaned against the concrete wall to catch his breath. Arms crossed over his impressive chest, the Strigoi waited for him to regain some composure. With the coat gone, Brevil could tell he was not built like normal Strigoi. This one was muscular and did not suffer from ticks. There was diversity in all species so this did not particularly surprise him. He followed because he was well aware that there was no point arguing.

Down the flight of stairs, they arrived directly into a large open floor which was also sparsely furnished. Pushed in a corner, two tables were covered with tools as well as messes of Plexiglas and wire. At the very back just before a long bar made with dark wood, stood two people. One was the driver named Augustin and the other was a woman. Then she turned around to fully face Brevil and that was no woman. She had hair and it appeared real but the rest of her was clearly not human. The female Strigoi smiled and it seemed so genuine and welcoming that Brevil felt like crying. This was not the smile of a cruel person but she was not a person. Why would they torture him like this?

"Where am I? Why did you take me here?” he asked, tired of their games.

Her smile faded somewhat and she turned to the tall one. They stared at each other until Quinlan cleared his throat.

"Maybe we should have discussed this in the car," said Quinlan and the harshness of his expression mellowed slightly.

"Don't blame Q. Brevil here wouldn't have believed him. Or me. He looks at us like we gonna eat him,” added Augustin.

"Well, Dr. Brevil to make a long story short: you've been drafted into the Resistance," said the female Strigoi.

Brevil successfully repressed a derisive snort.

"Why would you fight your own kind?" he asked.

Quinlan grunted at those words.

"We are not Strigoi, doctor."

Did they think he was blind? Their skin was as white as a corpse’s, they had red flesh on their throats and the tall one did not even have eyebrows. They were Strigs alright.

Augustin looked at the only uncovered window then at his watch. Both Strigoi looked at him. The Hispanic man made big eyes, wriggled his eyebrows and pointed at the ceiling. He grinned maliciously. What the hell was going on?

“Is that really necessary?” asked Quinlan.

“No but it’ll go faster,” replied Augustin.

“Gus is right,” said the female Strigoi. “Let’s just go.”

The Strigoi grabbed their coats and all climbed the stairs to the corridor he had just left then into a large flat and from there up another stairwell. When the door opened revealing the roof of the building, Brevil understood. What a lackluster end, being hurled into the asphalt below. His body fought this idea and he attempted to return inside. Augustin caught his arm and dragged him after the two Strigoi. The light was getting brighter by the second. Both Strigoi put on sunglasses but did not seek additional protection or shelter. Immobile as the light shone on their white skin, the creatures stood unharmed.

"Why are we not burning, Dr. Brevil?” asked Quinlan.

He had no explanation but grimaced. It’s just a trick. Maybe they wore some protective gear on their skins? Taking his life would not be enough. They wanted to drive him insane first. The female Strigoi threw her head back and groaned. Then she took a small switchblade from her pocket. Brevil tensed. That was it. Because he had not swallowed their lies, they would just end him right there. The scientist could not see the advantage of stabbing him over pushing him off the roof but could he pretend to fully understand Strigoi motivations? She pulled her sleeve up and slashed her forearm deeply. Both she and her counterpart made a wry face. White blood dripped on the tar roof. And that was it, just blood. Not a single worm to be seen in the milky liquid or in the open flesh. That was not possible.

"What are you?" asked Brevil.

"We are Dhampir. We are not parasites like the Strigoi and we cannot infect humans,” said the female Strigoi with a strange sadness to her smooth voice. “Dr. Brevil, please believe me when I say that you are not in any danger with us.”

Next to him, Augustin nodded and gave him an intense look under dark brows. The Dhampir pulled hoods over their heads. Like the hopeless fool Brevil was, he started hoping she was not lying.

Brevil stared intently at their faces as they made their way back to the large room with the bar. It was true that he had never seen Strigoi with hair. Or with those strange stripes on their skins. For that matter, he had never seen Strigoi with hazel eyes. Were those more than just natural variations within a species?

“My name is Lexi. Please take a seat.”

He obeyed and she sat across the table. Quinlan left the room and that enabled him to relax a little. The tall one made him very nervous. Augustin brought paper and a pencil and placed them in front of the scientist. Brevil glanced at the blank page then at the two of them.

“What do you want me to do with this?”

The female Dhampir and Augustin exchanged looks.

“You deal with that. I’ve got other stuff to take care of,” said the human and he proceeded to also leave the room.

“Well, doctor, from what we gathered about you, you know how to access and use the ASTER, the satellite system which monitors active volcanoes around the world.”

Advanced Spaceborne Thermal Emission and Reflection Radiometer was indeed in place to monitor such volcanic activity. And he was more than just familiar with it, he had helped build it.

“Yes, I do.”

Why would those people care about that? It made absolutely no sense. His suspicions came back in full force and he squinted.

“We are still unsure what you will require to access that system. Please write that down.”

Brevil stared at the pencil but did not pick it up. His lips disappeared into a fine line. The Dhampir rolled her eyes but then she chuckled. Now that was a strange vision, such a creature laughing.

“You still do not believe that we only mean to help, do you?”

Lexi simpered from across the table. Brevil did not answer right away. Was she trying to manipulate him by adopting human mannerisms?

“Why do you need to access that system? It’s of no use to people like you.”

Weird inhuman things and a bunch of gang members.

“We want to stop the Strigoi invasion and we need to access that system to achieve that…”

“I don’t believe you,” interrupted the scientist.

His eyes went wide as he regretted those words. Her lips lifted, revealing sharp teeth and Brevil cowered in his chair. But she was ignoring him as she fumbled with her pocket, extracted a blue handkerchief and applied it to her cut.

“Rest, sleep and eat until we get the items from your list. Maybe then, you’ll be ready to hear the truth.”

The tall Dhampir came back with a suture kit. She joined him at the bar and Brevil observed discretely as he wrote a few items on the page. And as he observed he almost believed. Quinlan kissed Lexi on the forehead and she gave him a tender smile. Strigoi could not care for another the way they did.

--

Three days later, Brevil had barely left his bedroom. The scarred kid named Amir even brought him meals three times a day. Their conversations were just variations on a theme.

“There you go, Dr. B.. The guys are eating downstairs if you wanna join.”

“No, thank you. I’ll eat here.”

“No problem.”

The kid would shrug and leave without another word. That day when someone knocked outside of the usual meal times, Brevil opened the door reluctantly. He sighed in relief because even if it was not Amir, at least it was a human. He was large with a thick beard and a knitted cap.

“So we’ve got like a ton of equipment for you and I’ve been told you had to supervise the installation.”

“Huh?”

“A computer? Some satellite dishes? I don’t know what to do with all that so…”

Moved by curiosity, Brevil followed the man who called himself Gordo. Together they went to the roof and worked on installing the dishes. Everything conformed perfectly to the specifications he had written. This was his life's work and he was moved to the verge of tears when the first images appeared on the computer screen. Many were useless because of the dust contaminants in the atmosphere but some were clear enough to allow for regular monitoring. Familiar shapes of beloved mountains and craters made him forget for a short moment the chaos and insanity of the world.

The next morning Amir arrived with a small pile of toasts.

“Hey, you wanna take that downstairs?”

Amir already deposited the plate on the small desk and was walking out when Brevil answered.

“I’d like that.”

The young man turned around and broke into a wide grin. At the lowest level, almost all men and both Dhampir were gathered around several tables covered with modest amounts of food but more than Brevil had seen in more than a year. The female Dhampir held a pan above heating plates as Gordo stared down skeptically.

“See, you don’t need eggs or milk.”

She poured a pancake onto a plate and handed it to the large man. There was a hint of smugness on her face. The man raised a finger as he took the pancake.

“Well, we’ll see that after I’m done eating it.”

“If you don’t want it…” started Julio and he reached for the plate that the large man immediately raised above his head.

“Dude…you don’t take a man’s food.”

Quinlan stood by his companion and was slicing apples on a cutting board. He frowned but Brevil was certain he had not uttered a single word when Lexi swirled around to face him. She looked at the fruit and nodded. The corners of Quinlan’s lips slightly lifted and he continued his work.

“Hey! Dr. B. is with us today!” chanted Amir as they reached the group.

“Volcano man!” A dark-skinned called.

Brevil did not yet know this one and this sudden attention made him recoil. He took a seat next to Amir and observed silently as he ate his dry toast. Gus handed him a small tub of butter. He whispered some thanks, took a little to put on his bread then resumed eating.

“Would you like one, Dr. Brevil?” asked Lexi and she lifted the pan in his direction.

He hesitated far too long.

“I’ll take it if he doesn’t want it,” interjected Gordo.

“I do believe Dr. Brevil might need it more than you do, Gordo,” said Quinlan as he gathered the cubed apples into a bowl.

The man’s jaw fell open but under his beard, there was a grin. Gordo whispered to a very entertained Gus: “Did he just call me fat?” Gus replied by patting his friend’s rotund midsection. Amir grabbed Brevil’s plate and handed it to Lexi.

She deposited two golden pancakes on the white ceramic as well as some of the cubed apples. When she leaned across the table, Brevil did the same to grab the plate.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome.”

Brevil did not remember the last time he had eaten something sweet. He almost wanted to cry after the first mouthful. He looked around the table and doubted the people gathered here had nefarious intentions. However, he also saw no way for this band of misfits to put a term to the Strigoi invasion.

 After that day, Brevil ventured more often out of his bedroom and usually sat at the bar to work on his computer and listen to the various conversations. One afternoon as he was coming down the stairs, he hesitated. There was a commotion in the communal space and he was uncertain he wanted to be a part of it.

“Hey, you kinda in the way.”

Marcus and Gordo were coming down the stairs behind him. There were sudden shouts such as the kind one would expect during a sporting event.

“Arg! We’re missing everything,” said the large man.

He took Brevil by the elbow and pulled him along as they rushed down the stairs. Amir and Raul stood by the window and were cheering at Quinlan and Lexi who faced each other in the middle of the room. Both were out of breath.

“Who’ve got the stuff?” asked Marcus and Amir nodded.

“You?” he replied

“Yeah, five pieces,” said Gordo.

The men emptied their pockets and deposited candy and chocolates on the window seal. Then as the Dhampir started moving, the scientist completely ignored his fellow humans. White flashes pierced the air as Lexi unleashed a wave of punches toward Quinlan who expertly avoided them but had to raise a defensive arm to block the last one. Brevil was unsure what happened next but suddenly, her small figure was on Quinlan’s back as she attempted to throttle him. It was bizarre, watching them grin through all those acts of violence.

Five minutes later, Lexi was pinned on the floor as Quinlan kneeled on her back. She growled loudly then ceased her struggle. Gordo swore and Amir cackled and clapped enthusiastically. Raul shook his head and reached for a chocolate bar. Amir slapped his hand away.

“If you’re too good for bets, you’re too good for chocolate,” he said and pocketed his spoils.

“You’re such a dick,” said Raul and he started across the room toward the table covered with Plexiglas and wires.

“Lex! The fuck!” shouted Gordo.

“First of, screw you. Second, don’t you have deliveries to make?” she retorted as she jumped to her feet.

Gordo’s face fell, he looked at his watch and ran to the stairs. Marcus snorted then he slapped his forehead and rushed after Gordo as Gus came up the stairs. The Hispanic man looked at his running associates and sighed.

“I swear those two are never on time. Q! Let’s go! It’ll take long enough as it is to get to the airport.”

The Dhampir nodded exchanged a soft look with his companion. Just like that, all the violence was gone. Brevil had never seen Strigoi moving that way but what could two of them do against millions?

 Days later, Raul paced nervously as there was a lot of talk about “collecting heads” around the bar. Sitting there at his computer, Brevil was quite convinced that they were talking about others just like him. And as much as he appreciated some of the men there, he was quite excited at the prospect of meeting more survivors. He had crossed path with a few, some month prior when the Librarian had helped him. But since then, nothing. In fact, he had been quite lonely.

It took some time for Brevil to notice the absence of Lexi and Raul. They were habitual fixtures of the communal room, constantly busy with power tools in a corner. Quinlan and Gus were still present, and the former paced around the room. Augustin was going through a stack of papers while sitting at the other end of the bar. The Dhampir ran to the window in a blur and stood in the waning light.

“Something happened?” asked Gus.

“No...I do not think so. They are so far that I cannot hear her thoughts.”

Brevil stopped mid-keystroke. Hear her what? Quinlan made a strange clicking sound that gave goosebumps to the scientist.

“I believe I should have gone with them.”

Gus shook his head.

“We’ve got shit to do. The guys at the restaurant said Eichhorst would show up today. That German dick is gonna be so pissed when he realizes we found the Master ‘cause we followed him.”

Brevil shook his head. The words meant nothing to him. Gus looked at his watch. The sun had set and darkness was descending on the city.

Then they too had gone, leaving Brevil with his work and a bored Amir keeping guard while listening to what sounded like the audiobook of a cheesy romance novel. When the next chapter described the main protagonists in the throes of passion, the young man screamed "Freaking finally!" and increased the volume. The scientist stared at his screen and tried not to smile too widely. At dinner, they all ate at their own post. Beside Amir still listening to his book, the others appeared tense. When Amir’s radio beeped and Gus' voice asked him to open the gate, some visibly relaxed. The Dhampir and his human associate arrived and the men gathered around them.

"So? Where is the Master?" asked Arturo.

"Central Park. At the castle. We saw him. Even looks like he has a human pet there."

“A human pet?" said one of Arturo’s brothers. Brevil was unsure which one.

"A human boy who resides in the castle. The only human there. Any news?" said Quinlan.

"No phone calls or anything. But I guess we can start monitoring the news as well,” said Miguel with a dark expression.

In the late morning the next day, the Partnership news described how terrorists were a threat to the equilibrium. Harming Strigoi did not help humans, quite the contrary, droned on a perfectly groomed blonde woman. It made Brevil sick to look at this propaganda. It also made him sick when on the screen, a group of three humans was ushered in a police station. They would be executed but Brevil knew the other Dhampir was responsible.

“They did it then, they killed so many Strigs the Partnership couldn’t bury the story.”

"Why are you doing this if that means more humans have to die?" he asked Gus who muted the sound.

"You ready to hear the truth? Lexi ain't here to cut her arm off so you believe us."

This quip made the Dhampir growl lowly.

"Just tell me."

Both him and Quinlan spoke. The Strigoi were only organized because they were like ants. One was the center of their collective mind, like a queen, and if that one died, they would also die. A single Strigoi needed to die and humanity would be saved. They even had a plan and as they spoke yet another part of it was coming to completion. It sounded like a reachable goal Suddenly, this group of misfits did not appear like a bunch of deluded albeit well-intentioned ideologists. However, it was quite clear that for Gus, killing the Master justified any action they took. There was no remorse on his surprisingly young face. The Dhampir at that point remained quiet. He appeared to be daydreaming and that filled Brevil with outrage.

"You don't care those people will die because of you?" he asked Quinlan directly.

He took a step back when the cool eyes focused on him.

"If it were necessary to slay the beast, I would kill every single human in New York."

Quinlan looked away again.

"But rest assured that I would not take from them what I am not willing to give up myself."

With his arms crossed he stared out the window and waited.

"What is he talking about?" asked Brevil to Gus.

"He means they both gonna die with the rest of them. They all connected to the Master and when he blows..."

Brevil grimaced. In disgust at the thought of yet more deaths, and at the thought that the Dhampir he despised was ready to give his life. Brevil doubted he could walk into battle when victory was synonym with oblivion. The fact that such a callous creature had the moral high ground was deeply unsettling.

Later that day, there was no news of Lexi or Raul. Quinlan paced the room with increasing agitation. Gus who had napped on the couch woke to a snarl coming from the Dhampir. Brevil startled at the wild noise. The Dhampir was so agitated, Brevil even avoided looking in his direction. It felt foolish to attract his attention at this very moment.

"I still cannot hear her. They should be close enough now."

Gus shook his head.

"Can you tell if they’re hurt or something?”

"No...I am unsure."

"Crap happens out there. Could be as simple as a flat tire."

"I can find her. With the Bond"

The Hispanic man jumped to his feet and raised his hands in a calming gesture.

"Yeah, she told me you might try that if something came up. She also said that if you do that the Master will find your ass and send an army."

"I can leave this place and do it outside New York."

"That's not the point. She doesn’t want you to try."

Quinlan scowled and remained quiet. The Dhampir ceased this constant pacing but glanced toward his coat and sword very often. Although Brevil disliked this one and his cold manners, he hoped Lexi and Raul were alright. Both because he now understood the importance of their mission but also because he quite liked them. As he also waited, Brevil bit through all ten of his nails.

One hour later the Dhampir gasped and rushed to the window. A faint smile spread on his discolored lips.

"Sup Q?" Yelled Gus from the bar where he had put a call on hold.

"They are coming back. They are both safe."

He closed his eyes and frowned.

"They had to hide most of the day."

Then another smile wider this time. Whatever the Dhampir was now hearing, he kept to himself.

Another hour later when the SUV was buzzed in and Lexi burst in the room, Quinlan scooped her up and with her thighs tightly pressed around his hips, she kissed the top of his bald head. Gus welcomed his cousin with much less hugging.

"You got them?"

"Yeah, we cleared three small nests. Man...it was fucked."

Then Arturo and his brothers arrived, wearing thick gloves at they carried barrels into the room. They all had revolted expressions and since Brevil was aware of what the barrels contained, he too grimaced.

"We know where the Master is in New York," Gus said to both Raul and Lexi.

"Yes, Quinlan told us. The tree cover in the park will have less interference than buildings. The devices can be ready in a few days. Then all we need is..."

All eyes present turned to Brevil who blushed violently. The only thing missing was the location of the explosion that would kill the Master. And it was his job to find out. Maybe hearing the truth had not been such a good idea. His frail shoulders were crushed under the weight of that crucial mission.