#but then i get overwhelmed w suicidal thoughts and go back to being numb to avoid it

[pedroshotwifey]

To the Flame chapter seventeen

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter w/c: 2.6k

Chapter warnings: physical abuse, mental abuse, toxic behavior, infidelity, reader is suffering some severe depression among many other things, mentions of vomiting (not descriptive), trauma, unhealthy relationships, disassociation as a coping method, victim blaming, angst, hurt/comfort?, suicidal ideation

Chapter Summary: Javi takes something from you, again.

A/N: This should go without saying, but I am so, so sorry for how long it's been since the last update. I'm still not doing very well, but here's this, so. Yeah. Love you all and I beg you to forgive me ♥

****

It still hurts when you wake up, still an overwhelming pain throughout your entire body. Still a sore and swollen throat, throbbing head, and struggling lungs. It’s been almost a week, and nothing’s gotten much better. You’re still you. Weak, useless, aching you. And Javi’s still…Javi. Not Javi from the hospital, or your Javi from Texas, but Javi from the last few miserable months. Not rageful, exactly, but definitely distant and agitated. Enough so that you decide to steer clear. 

You thought—hoped—for a minute that he really did change after that night. But you’ve come to understand that hope is a feeble thing. A foolish thing. 

You mostly stay in bed all day, choosing rest—pretend or not—over facing whatever Javi might try. You think he may still feel a little guilty, and that’s why he lets you stay in bed. There’s no way he doesn’t—not after that. He tried one day to get you up, but you did your best to make it seem like you were exhausted, when really you were just terrified. You know what he was after. He was drunk and hurling names at you left and right. You’re surprised he didn’t take you anyway. No, he just left. Walked out of the apartment and let you shut your eyes again, too worn down to care. 

He’s gone at work right now. You’re still in bed. It’s probably sundown at this point, but you don’t really know because you’ve been staring up at the ceiling for what seems like hours. He’s supposed to be back at nine tonight. 

It’s Friday, which means that Steve and Connie will be coming over for dinner tomorrow. You should be making desert right now so you don’t have to do it in the morning. That would be the smart thing, at least. You should probably eat, too. You’re not sure when you last did that. 

You feel a little sick if you’re being honest, probably from the lack of food and water. Being confined to the dark bedroom for days straight surely isn’t helping that either. You huff a sigh, ignoring the way your throat constricts around the air. You reckon it would feel a little better by now if you’d been using it—talking and drinking some fluids. 

Before you can give yourself the chance to change your mind, you slip out of bed, your feet hitting the cold hardwood for the first time since yesterday morning or so. You drag yourself into the bathroom, leaving the light off as you pee. 

You’re still groggy as you make your way into the kitchen, halfway in a trance as you sit down at the kitchen table. It’s going to take you a minute to fully wake up, but you know you should take your time so you’re not cooking half asleep. The last thing you need right now is another injury. 

You watch the clock as you wait, your eyes following the small hands as they tick away at precious seconds. It probably won’t be long at all before he’s home. It’s already late—later than it should be with the time he was supposed to be off work. You know better than to think he’s working overtime. 

You take a deep breath, pushing unwanted thoughts from your mind, and stand up. Keeping your mind numb has been getting easier as of late. It takes a massive effort, but you would rather have to do that than brew on your current situation. 

It’s hard sometimes, when you get caught up in it, to fall asleep. It seems that night is the worst time for it. Your mind won’t turn off and you end up silently crying until your pillow is soaked and you have to turn it over to sleep when you finally stop. It spirals, your brain wracking up every pitiful thought it can to keep you falling down that damn rabbit hole. Past, present, future, there’s nothing you can think of to comfort you. Only regret and dread swirling around in your dizzy head at every cognizant moment. 

Just like now, as you gather ingredients for PB&J from your cabinets and set them on the counter. You can see now that the sun has indeed already gone down, leaving the dull, yellow, overhead bulb your only source of light. The hue it casts makes you sick to your stomach. 

You glance at the clock again. This may be the latest he’s ever stayed out. A sour taste forms in your mouth as you realize you aren’t worried. It’s a harsh realization. Such a stark difference from how concerned you were the first time he was gone like this. 

But you don’t think about where he is as you make your food. It’s not that you don’t care, it’s just hard to convince yourself of it. He could be down the street or halfway across the world. He’ll come back. And you’ll be here. 

You watch the clock as you eat at the table, the only sound to be heard the ticking of the hands and the occasional traffic in the distance. It’s enough for you to keep your idle mind undisturbed. Enough to keep zoning out. 

It’s not until you’re taking your last bite that the phone rings, making you jump. It’s like you snap halfway back to reality, your vision focusing and your hearing coming back full force. You sit at the table, ignoring the ringing in favor of trying to get back to that safe place. You can feel your emotions knocking at the door, can almost hear them. 

It’s a steady pounding, gentle enough for you to try to push it back, but prominent enough to make it difficult. You think you’re almost there when it suddenly stops and is replaced instead by the sound of metal jingling together. Almost like a set of—

And you’re back, completely and wholly alive in reality, listening to the phone ringing and your husband unlocking the door. Your breath picks up instinctually, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. It’s a lot, but you have to handle it. You think about trying to get back to the bedroom before Javi comes in, but he’s already closing the door behind him by the time the thought breezes through. 

“Sweetheart?” You hear him call out. He must see the light on. The phone is still ringing. You wish it would stop. 

“In here,” you rasp. That name coming from his sober tongue feels like a stab to your chest.

His footsteps start to head your way, steady. Your stomach twists, but you’re not sure why. He doesn’t sound drunk. 

“Javi?” You call again even though he’s almost to you. He walks through the doorway not a second later. 

He stands there and watches you for a moment. You know you must look like a mess. But all you can focus on right now is how clear his eyes look, how present he is. He’s there with you. You feel small as you get up from your seat and walk to him with tears swimming in your eyes. You recognize how pathetic it is as you wrap your arms around him and start to cry into his chest, but you do it anyway. He’s there. You’ll take what you can while you have it. 

He stands still for a moment before reciprocating your affection and holding you back. But when he does, he molds you to him, leaning down a bit and rocking you gently. 

“Shh, it’s okay” he coos, “what’s wrong baby?” 

You open your mouth to respond, but the truth is that you have no idea. It doesn’t matter though, because that’s the exact moment the answering machine picks up. It’s faint from where it’s coming from the hall near the living room, but it’s the loudest and clearest thing to ever hit your ears. 

“Hey, Javi, it’s Melissa. It was so much fun hanging out with you tonight! These last few weeks have been amazing, honestly. Call me back, I’d love to schedule another little date back at my place. ‘Kay, let me know, bye!” 

You’ve stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped crying. Javi’s frozen in place too. You’re just two people frozen in time, standing, embracing each other in the nauseating yellow light of your kitchen. God, you want to puke. 

And then you’re heaving. You’re pushing him off of you, staggering back, trying not to scream and cry. Of everything he’s ever done to you…

“No, no, no, baby, please it’s not what it sounds like,” Javi tries to defend himself with rushed words as he steps carefully after you. You almost don’t hear him through the pounding of blood in your ears. 

“Mm, mm,” you squeeze the sound out through your lips. You’re bent over, hands on your knees with your face toward the floor. Tears drop rapidly, blurring your vision but making clear droplets against the tile. Bile burns in the back of your throat, and you realize you really are about to throw up. 

You head toward the bathroom. You don’t rush, scared of falling down. But you make your way there. Javi follows behind. He’s talking but you can’t hear a thing. He stands in the doorway when you get to the toilet, watching you get on the floor in front of it just in time to throw up all the content in your stomach. 

He flips on the light and gets down behind you, petting your back in what could be a soothing manner if you weren’t trying to push him off. 

“Getoffame” you moan, words streaming together. Everything feels fake again, but not in the way that helps tame the pain. No, this nightmare state is more like watching your husband in the damn yellow light of the kitchen as he takes you, unwilling, for the first time all over again. This time though, he’s taken something you’ll never try to understand, never try to forgive. He wasn’t even drunk. He was there tonight while you were alone and hurting. 

He says something again. You have no idea what. You hear the timbre of his voice, feel it in your bones, and don’t care what words formed from it. You sit dazedly in front of the toilet when you’re finished, staring blankly ahead and wishing you would just die. What did you do? Why do you deserve this? Why is it you living through this right now? 

“Get out,” you whisper. Almost too quiet to hear yourself. You come back again. Not completely, but enough so that you have to feel every ounce of hurt in your veins right now. 

“Sweetheart, please listen to me—” 

“Get out.” 

He comes closer, too close, trying to decide if he should get you up or let you stay down. 

“Baby, please get up so we can talk, I—” 

“Get out! I fucking hate you, get out!” Your tears have dried, but your wail makes it sound like you’re still crying. It makes your heart clench in a way you’ve yet to experience as the words come out of your mouth, but you can’t take them back. You don’t even know if it’s true, but it feels like it is right now. 

Javi stops for a moment, and you think for a second that he may actually listen. But then his hands are on your biceps, pulling you up with enough force to make you stand. He has you flipped around to face him and pinned against the counter before you can protest. It doesn’t stop you though, once you get your bearings. 

Your hands are on him now, shoving and clawing and slapping against his arms, his chest, anything to get him away. 

“Get out, get out, get out!” You’re crying the words again, over and over again to drown out anything that he tries to let spill from his lying tongue. 

When his palm stings your cheek, you don’t even flinch. Your breath hitches, but that’s about the extent of your reaction. He can’t do anything now to hurt you more than he has already. 

“Fucking listen to me,” he booms, taking the opportunity of your brief silence to let his words slice through. You’re too tired to do anything, too gone. You stare at him, ready to listen to whatever bullshit he’s going to try to sell. 

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” He seethes. “You didn’t want to get out of that bed, much less let me fuck you. I did it for you.” 

At a loss for words, you stare at him. Did he hear the words that just came out of his own mouth? 

“You slept with another woman…for me?” Your anger is starting to show despite how hard you try to quell it. It’s a strange type of anger, though, because you find yourself almost wanting to laugh. “You know, Javier, you told me a while ago that I’m a slut, but I’m pretty sure that’s you.” Your tone is cold, ment to cut through skin in a way you’ve never attempted before. 

His jaw clenches, but that’s the only hint he gives away that shows you affected him at all. 

“Don’t say things that aren’t true to make yourself feel better, carino.” 

“Exept you fucking know it’s true, Javi! You fucked another woman! You put your nasty dick inside of a woman who is not me, not your wife!” You know you sound like a lunatic as you yell at him, but you don’t care. You’ve never been so angry, humiliated, and defeated at the same time. It’s an overwhelming rush of emotion. “And you say it’s because I was sick in bed? You fucking put me there!” 

“Not on purpose, fucking christ! You make it sound like I want to hurt you, but you don’t understand that everything I have done since the day I met you, has been for you! It’s about time somebody tells you how much of an entitled, selfish brat you are. I do everything for you, and you don’t give a shit!” 

Out of everything he’s said, you don’t know why those words cut the deepest. But you feel your cheeks heating with embarrassment. Are you acting like a brat? You look into Javi’s eyes, and you can tell the exact moment he clocks what happened. 

“You act like a child, annoying and immature. There’s a reason I have to do the things I do.” His tone is softer now, soft like the tears streaming down your cheeks. You barely feel them. You think your subconscious is fading again, because your emotions start to go again until you’re simply numb. Maybe this is all your fault. 

Through everything, you can’t hate yourself for it this time when you wrap your arms around him, silently begging him to hold you, to forgive you, to stay with you so you’re not alone. You don’t want him to be mad at you, and you don’t want him to really think you’re a child. 

You want to kill that primal instinct that keeps giving in, keeps wanting comfort. This is wrong, a small voice tells you. You know it is. But the louder voice that says you need Javi over anything, is so much easier to listen to. It loves to tell you that maybe if you forgive these things, you can make everything good again. Maybe Javi can forget, too, and you can be happy again. 

It takes longer this time for him to tuck you to him, but when he does, it feels like you can breathe a full breath again. In and out, in and out. He’s here. You can put everything that happened tonight in a little file in the back of your head, push it away, try to forget it. All you want is for things to go back to the way they used to be, so you let yourself pretend. You aren’t sure you can handle anything else right now.

You have a feeling, though, that you’re going to feel very differently in the morning.

******

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[ssa-sugar-tits]

queen of hearts // chapter four

summary: y/n y/l/n was crushed when she found out about maeve donovan. heartbroken, she left her entire life behind. what happens when she becomes the most prolific serial killer the bau has ever seen?

prologue + series masterlist & taglist

content warnings: swearing, angst, implied/mentioned sex, restraints, blood, head injury, kidnap/hostage, alcohol, gunshot, murder

a/n: reader is a psychotic murderer. this is purely a work of fiction and if you or someone you know are experiencing homicidal urges, seek professional help immediately.

-

The room was filled with tension and an overwhelming sense of despair but no one said a word. No more hellish arguing, no irritatingly random facts, not even discussion to solve the case. Everyone worked on their angle of the case and despite the fact that no one would dare admit it, they all somewhat hoped that Y/N wouldn't be caught. Some hoped more than others but deep down they all felt a twinge of it. JJ walked into the room and spoke, startling the team and ripping them away from their thoughts and guilt.

"I've given a picture of her to the media, it's being circulated."

It pained her-- almost physically-- to have to hand over a picture of someone who'd been like family for so many goddamn years. She felt that she was betraying Y/N and that made her feel indescribably horrible.

"Now what? We just wait?" Morgan seemed to be the only one that really did want to stop her. Maybe he was angry that he hadn't seen the signs. Maybe he was angry that his best friend had just... left. Maybe he was angry that she lost herself so much. Maybe he blamed himself.

"What else is there to do Derek? Call me bad at my job- Hell, call all of us bad at our jobs but we can't profile her. Admit it, we're all biased. Too biased to think straight but there's no way we can give this case to another unit." Emily had always been so close to Y/N and was able to open up to her. Something she couldn't bring herself to do with most people. But you weren't most people, were you? Even with what Y/N could be doing, Emily doesn't have it in her to hate her. The sadness she was feeling must have shown because JJ squeezed Emily's hand and gave her a weak smile. And for the millionth fucking time, everyone stayed silent. Not even Spencer was saying anything and he is not the type to stay quiet this long. Believe it or not, that was actually one of the things Y/N had loved about him. Everyone rolled their eyes or cut him off but she loved to listen to him ramble. To everyone's surprise, she was always genuinely interested in what he had to say and that was one of the first things that made him fall in love with her. She never invalidated him or called him strange. Sometimes when she had a nightmare or experienced anxiety she'd even ask him talk to her about a random topic so she could focus on his voice until she calmed down. 

"Your voice is like... honey. In my ears." Spencer wanted to scream with emotional torture building up as he remembered how she'd laughed when she said that and how he'd had smiled at her with nothing but adoration and love.

"That seems unsanitary Y/N."

"You're such a smartass."

"Am I?"

"Definitely. But it's ok. I love that about you. I love you."

"I love you too."

She'd planted a sweet kiss on his lips before laying her head on his lap and listening to the rest of his topic rant. Still basking in the memory of Y/N, a sharp pain entered his hand and he realized he'd dug his crescent nails into the palm of his hand. And in that moment, he couldn't help but think about how much he'd love to be holding her hand right now.

"Guys!"

They all turned to Garcia, the source of the exclaim, who was walking in with Hotch.

"A bartender downtown says he just saw a woman matching Y/N's description leave with another man."

"She's chosen another victim? Here?" Rossi asked with confusion written on his face. "Up until now she's only killed 2 people per state and knowing the BAU has been called in, why is she staying here?"

JJ stepped in,

"This place is special to her, she has history here. Y/N must have an endgame but what is it?"

"The profile says she'll take as many people as she can with her. Probably suicide by cop."

Derek had accepted the situation. So why did that hurt to say?

"Rossi will go to the bar and talk to witnesses. Reid and Prentiss, stay here with Garcia. JJ and Morgan, PD is surveilling the radius around the bar and setting up roadblocks, come with me to help them."

"There's no way I'm staying here." Spencer objected.

Stay here and do nothing? Like hell.

"Neither am I, what the hell Hotch?"

"Reid, Prentiss that's an order. You're not going."

They both started to argue again but Hotch had already left. JJ and Derek followed and Rossi stood up with to leave for the bar. Apologetic looks were shot at Spencer and Emily because they all know why they have to stay behind. They're the two closest to her, the two that wouldn't be able to keep their emotions from affecting them on the field. And with that, off they all went.

-

Y/N's POV

-

The second you get to his hotel room, your lips crash against the handsome stranger. Your next victim. He pushes you against the wall and you moan loudly. His hands roam your body and you pull back.

"Hey... Go lie on the bed and wait for me."

Panting and staring at you with lust, he complies. Of course he does.

For God's sake. This man doesn't even know your name.

To be fair, Spence didn't even know Maeve's last name. And he still chose her.

You walk over to the eager man on the bed. Your hot breath on his neck, you lean close and whisper to him.

"We're going to do things my way."

He moans and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at him in disgust.

"Yes ma'am."

Taking out a rope, you tie him up and you know he thinks you're just a kinky slut. That's what they all see, isnt it? Suddenly something roars inside of you. Forgetting your usual routine, you pick up the lamp on the bedside table and smash it against him. Crimson stains the bed and you drop it, shocked by yourself. Yes, you've done worse. But it isn't the act that's sending regret and nausea through your body, it's that you're devolving. You're losing control.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Starting to panic, you take the unconscious man and check for a pulse. He's still alive.

Giving him a shower (much to your disdain) and change of clothes, you put his arm over your shoulder and walk out of the room giggling as you pass one of the housekeepers.

"Baby, you're such a lightweight! Let's get you out of here."

The housekeeper barely gives you a second glace but when she enters the room of the man you've taken, she starts to scream and you know you're running out of time.

Run. Drag him. Just hurry the hell up.

Finally at his car, you take him to the small studio you own downtown. No one can find you here. It's been yours for nearly a decade and you aren't stupid enough to have told anyone about it or put it under your name. Granted, you'd never thought you'd have to use it to hide out from the feds, it's still useful. After taking a look at the brightly colored wall in your basement, you feel a sense of sudden pain race through your veins. You used to be normal. You used to have a life.

-

The man is chained up, gagged, and bleeding but you can't even remember doing anything to him. What you need is numbness. They thought the other bodies were bad? Wait til they fucking see what you do with him. Pain shoots through your skull again and you wince and fall to the ground.

"Fuck. I- I need a drink." you stammer to no one in particular but yourself.

A wig and sunglasses make you look different enough from the woman being circulated to take the bus to a nearby gas station. Walking down the liquor aisle of the store, you hum a song to yourself and let the AC blow on your skin. Vision blurred, you bite your lip and taste the unmistakable strong metallic taste of your own blood. Still humming that fucking song. The song you'd danced to with Spencer in your living room before you'd made love for the first time.

"You cannot be serious!"

"Y/N! I can't dance."

"Oh come on. How bad can you be?  Seriously, the songs going to end and it'll be too late."

"Yes, that's what I'm hoping for."

"Psh. Don't tell me Doctor Reid is scared to sway around a little."

"Shut up."

"Make me." you laughed.

With one playful look, you dared him to shut you up in the most passionate, sensual way he could. But instead he put his warm hands on your hips and swayed to the song. You melted into his touch and your breaths synced as you laid your head on his chest. His heart beat was steady and calming. One hand reached for yours and intertwined before twirling you and pulling you back in to dance. He'd held you until it was over and brought your chin up to his face. The kiss was so intense, so loving. He tilted his head and pulled you tighter to get as close as he could to you. His tongue met yours and your mouths bathed in each other's taste. Running a hand through your hair, you'd started to unbutton his shirt. He'd been taken aback at first but then picked you up and placed you in the bedroom ever so softly. Placing gentle kisses all over each other's bodies and undressing for the other, you made raw, breathtaking love for the first of many times.

"Hey lady! Get out of the way!"

"W-What?..." You tremble and realize you're crying on the floor of the aisle.

"I said get out of the damn way, some of us got places to be."

The man is clearly batshit drunk. Probably here to buy his next fix. Shaking and letting yourself actually feel your emotions, you stand and use the wall to balance yourself.  The man that yelled at you curses to himself as his phone rings and he picks it up.

"Hell do you want? Thought you were still mad about Andrea."

Andrea? Mad about Andrea. Another cheater. Another liar. Right? It has to be.

Before you can process what you're doing-- how irrational it is-- the gunshot rings through the store and everyone turns to see the man before you on the ground, screaming and spitting blood. A mix of a laugh and a sob escapes you and you scream.

"Everyone on the fucking ground! If I see any cellphones, I'll shoot you just like this dickhead. Got it?"

Frightened people drop to the ground and you start to yell, incoherent bullshit again. You smash the freezer glass behind you and open an expensive bottle of bourbon.

You practically whimper having to take deep gasps in between words, but in a somehow still confident, fearless tone.

"Now let's have some fucking fun."

-

But what you didn't know was that the cashier in the front had sent a text 5 minutes earlier.

Call 911! The girl from the news, the Queen of Hearts. She's in the store.

What you didn't know was that the woman that recieved the text had called immediately.

911, what's your emergency?

What you didn't know was that the BAU was on their way.

-

[elenatria]

You are going to write Pacho smut? God bless you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah. Working on it. .__.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407543/chapters/48722309

The first rays of light shone over the deserted land as a reminder of a long-lost normalcy, a glimpse of how life ought to be everywhere else on the planet but there, on that barren landscape, that unique, eternally poisonous spot on the map.

The man and the boy drove through fields and farms where Pavel spotted many places they hadn’t visited before, the so-called “dirty villages” as opposed to the ones they had already cleaned of the lives and life forms humans had left behind. Bacho was keeping stubbornly silent refusing to make any stops, driving on until Pavel realized they were going around in circles.

He was about to ask why when the brooding man on the wheel broke the silence.

“I’m not supposed to be alone with you,” he grumbled, eyes staring straight ahead.

“Why--”

“You know very well why,” Bacho snapped. “I’m not gonna spend the rest of my life in a Gulag because of you.”

Pavel sighed. “I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

“What are you here for then?”

“Stop you from killing yourself.”

“What?...”

Pavel swore he had never seen a funnier grimace in his adult life. Suppressing a giggle he hoped his mentor was as good a lover as he was a driver: for all the shock in his bulging eyes, his experienced hands and feet were keeping the two of them steady and safe on their course to nowhere.

“I saw a dream,” Pavel explained, “we were at the opera, you were blowing your brains out with my toy rifle.”

“Jesus Christ, and you’re here because of a fucking dream?” Bacho huffed.

“I guess...”

The truck took an abrupt turn on the road between two fields.

“I have no intention of killing myself,” the veteran assured him. “And I still have no idea what you’re doing here.”

“I told you, it was my dream,” Pavel insisted.

“Start having different dreams, will you?” Bacho rumbled. “Try sex dreams, that’s what I do.”

Pavel licked his dry lips gathering up all the courage he had. “Who… who do you dream of?”

“What…?”

“Who do you--”

The brakes’ screeching sound smothered Pavel’s last words as Bacho pulled over on the side of the road. He released his seat belt and turned to the boy.

“You’re gonna get us both shot, you know that?” he pointed a threatening finger at his face.

“But Garo said you--”

“Never mind what that dickhead said,” Bacho spat, “this is Soviet land, not Afghanistan. If they caught us--”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--” Pavel stuttered.

“You’re sorry? Sorry?” Bacho laughed. “You have no idea what being sorry means, boy. No fucking idea.”

Pavel frowned; the last thing he needed that moment was being reminded of his inexperience.

“Maybe you could explain…?” he suggested timidly. He knew this was no time to have an argument with the man on the driver’s seat but there was an unchartered depth in Bacho’s eyes that was both horrifying and pitiful.

Bacho pursed his lips, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening in painful memory. “You weren’t the first to come to me you know,” he rasped. “Lost, wagging his tail for protection, sad puppy eyes…” He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm as if to fight off a lingering migraine.  “JESUS fucking Christ…”

“I… don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand,” Bacho growled. “It never got serious, it was nothing, but the others could smell it on us, the potential, the… need. They thought they’d make him tougher, make a man out of him before it was too late. See, it was just a game to them, it was just…” Bacho squeezed the wheel until his knuckles went white. “They… They hazed him to death.”

“What…”

Pavel felt his heart sinking. It was unimaginable - the strongest, toughest man he had met since he had arrived in that god-forsaken place had stopped the truck in the middle of nowhere to show him the gaping wound in his soul. His only friend, his protector, drowning in an ocean of regret.

He lowered his eyes as if he had been there, as if he was responsible somehow. “I’m… sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Bacho chuckled bitterly like someone who had heard a million sorries in his life. “I assure you no one will ever be as ‘sorry’ as he was when he was gulping down water instead of air. So don’t try acting sad, you’re not him. And you’re not me.”

“I wish I were…”

Bacho turned to contemplate Pavel’s face. “You might want to take that wish back, boy,” he grumbled. “You are nothing like me, you’ll never be like me. Thank God for that.”

“But I want to.”

“You want what, to become an expert in merciful killings?” Bacho roared jutting his face toward him. “Fine. I’ll teach you how.”

He kicked the door open and walked around to the back of the truck. Pavel followed him with fearful eyes as he pulled the back of the stakebed down and grabbed a riffle. Before the young man could turn, Bacho opened the door, grabbed his arm and pulled him out, almost dragging him to the ground like a rag doll. Pavel had barely stumbled back on his feet when the rifle was hurled at him, punching the air out of his lungs.

“I’ve taught you how to shoot,” Bacho panted. “Now shoot.”

“W-why?” Pavel stuttered, his lips white as a sheet.

“BECAUSE I’M TELLING YOU, YOU FUCKHEAD,” Bacho roared. “Can’t you obey a simple fucking order?”

Pavel’s lips were trembling. “You… You told me never to point this gun at you. That was my order.”

“That was a rule, not an order,” Bacho corrected him, raging fire lighting up his eyes. “And I’m changing the rules now. Are you an idiot?”

“N-No…” Pavel whispered lowering his head, looking for a way out of his living nightmare among the rocks and pebbles under his feet.

“Then SHOOT.”

“I…”

For all his numbness and terror Pavel was trying to figure out a way to blow Bacho’s head with the back of his rifle so as to bring him unconscious back to the safety of the camp. Trying to talk him out of suicide would be pointless. He wished Garo had come with them, he wished they weren’t alone. He wished--

“I can’t.”

Bacho grabbed the barrel with both hands and stabbed his own chest with it. “Do a man a favour,” he snarled shaking the gun, digging it deeper into his flesh. “Isn’t that what you want to be good at? Merciful killings? C’mon, no one will know, you’ll tell them you heard rustling leaves and you thought it was a dog.”

Pavel was gawking at him wondering if it would be a good idea to let go of the rifle, leave him with it. They weren’t supposed to be doing this, fighting. They were supposed to be on their knees with prying hands all over each other.

“Why don’t you shoot me, Pavel…” Bacho pleaded, his gaze softer now, broken, welling up with agony. “Shoot me before I… Before anyone knows, before anyone suspects. Before you get killed because of me… Please, Pavlunya, do this for me… Please…”

Pavel felt Bacho’s grip on the barrel loosen for a second – that was all he needed; with one long terrified grunt he ripped it from Bacho’s maddened clutch and flung it beyond his reach. The gun made a circle in the air and landed a few meters away raising a cloud of dust.

Bacho, chest heaving, eyes of a lunatic, dragged his steps toward Pavel glaring down on him, clenching and unclenching his fists on his sides.

“That was a mistake, boy,” he groaned menacingly.

“No,” Pavel said. “You’re not gonna die, not on my watch.”

“You forgot rule number two,” Bacho snarled, his nose inches away from Pavel’s shivering ghost-like paleness. “Don’t let them suffer or I’ll kill you. I didn’t mean just the poor buggers we’ve been shooting down.”

“No,” Pavel shook his head pressing his lips shut. “No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I’m not shooting you down. Kill me, I’m not shooting you down.”

The unexpected blow that landed on Pavel’s jaw turned the world black as he fell flat, chest on the ground, hands scratching on rough pebbles to soften the fall. He sucked in a gasp filling his lungs with dust but before he could turn to face his attacker Bacho rolled him on his back, straddling him.

“Why are you doing this?” the dark-haired man roared “Why? You wanna die?”

“We’re dead anyway…” Pavel muttered with a calmness he didn’t know he had.

Bacho searched his face, his piercing, unreadable stare. Drops of sweat were sliding down his temples, falling on Pavel’s cheeks. Pavel wasn’t panting anymore, he was blinking slowly, his gaze patient, serene and fathomless.

“You don’t understand,” Bacho said with growing despair. “The things I want to do to you, the things… I would have you do to me, they’re not just illegal, they’re immoral.”

“I don’t care,” Pavel breathed as vivid images of his tongue doing sinful, wonderful things to the man riding him played behind his closed eyes, his throat dry as the soil beneath them. He repeated the words softly hoping the Georgian would finally realize his need for him. “I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care…” He raised his head and nuzzled against the tip of Bacho’s long hawk-like nose, his hot breath tickling the waiting, half-open mouth. “I don’t. Care.”

“Fuck—”

Before Pavel knew it Bacho’s hands were all over him and under his clothes, angry lips crushing against each other, eating each other out, a powerful, overwhelming tongue breaching his mouth, ravishing it, fucking into it. Never before had Pavel felt so many emotions at once; he was hard and desperate and longing for a hug and a good fuck, fearing for his life and Bacho’s life and it was all too much, too strong and he was losing his mind as he felt the veteran’s hardness swelling against his, hips rolling softly against his growing manhood, rocking back and forth, yearning for friction, for him. For his warmth, his adorable ignorance, his virginity. He knew it then, the answer to all his questions, to his loneliness; he knew and he would smile the happiest smile if Bacho wasn’t giving his lip a savage bite sucking on his juices, swirling his tongue around Pavel’s hotness, thirsty for more, thirsty for everything he had to give, every trace of his innocence, all of it. Every single drop.

He knew it and spread his legs to let Bacho’s weight sink between them, welcoming the intruder, giving in. He finally knew the answer to everything.

He was loved. He was free.

[sugarkitten-mamahoney]

Life Update ✨

Post: # 6

Date: Monday — August 12, 2019

Time: 11:21 PM Mtn Standard

Topic: My Life As Of Today

Greetings lovely flowers. 🌹

I'd like to start off today's post by saying I'm terribly sorry for not keeping up with my entries and for disappearing for weeks. A lot has happened in the span of the beginning of this blog up to today & I'll gladly fill you in.

TW: mental health issues, PPD, medication, depression, alcohol ab*se, self h*rm, s*icidal thoughts, bullying, body image, loss of a family member

Well back in the ending of May, I came to the realization that I was in fact suffering with PPD. I fought to keep it all bottled up in hopes that by not speaking about it and my ugly feelings, that it'll eventually solve itself and just go away. I was wrong. It came to the point where getting up to take care of my baby was a struggle, my relationship with Daddy was being affected, I was angry and irritated as soon as I woke up, and I felt really alone, ugly, worthless, and I honestly was dying to sleep all day and to be left alone. I didn't want to take care of myself and I had to force myself to be there for my baby. It truly affected my relationship with Daddy and of course our son and other family members, so I was pushing away those who I care about most.

I ended up talking with my boyfriend about how I was feeling and what has been going on in my head. I cried to him as I explained how ugly, pissed off, numb, and annoyed I felt. He held me. He kissed me. He told me he was glad to hear me speak up. He said he noticed the change. He wanted me to know that he is here for me always and that he loves me. I'm so glad I opened up to him and trust him with all my heart. I really don't know what I'd do without him. I love him.

I got the support, comfort, understanding, and love from Daddy. He was first. Then it was a couple of family members, my mom, aunt, sister-in-law... some understood, others didn't. They just agreed to disagree. It's hard opening up to those you love and trust when it comes to mental health when they do not understand or believe you. But I did it anyway and let them feel however they wanted... it's not my fault PPD affects a lot of young, 1st time moms. It's not my fault my seratonin levels are unbalanced and low.

I've had my battles overcoming depression a couple of times in the past. I've dealt with being cyber bullied to the point of feeling suicidal. I've self harmed and abused alcohol to forget my feelings and who I was. I even started lying to my parents and sneaking off to drink and black out with people I could not even trust. I was spiraling out of control because I never felt comfortable and safe to tell my parents how I felt when they rejected me at first for telling them that I was depressed. So I secretly suffered, I did.

But I'm getting help. I have talked with my doctor, and also seeking help from the mental health facility and will hopefully be paired with a wonderful therapist. I've also been started on a low dose of anti-depressants. My doctor and I went over all the options, twas ultimately my choice, and she always has my best interest at heart. So we went forth and started the medication as part of my treatment. I'm hoping I get better before Halloween, but only time will tell.

Another thing that's been going on is of course the fact that I'm struggling with my self-esteem and body image. I'm no longer body positive towards myself and feel nothing but resentment, disgust, and hatred towards my body. I should not feel this way at all but I do. I overeat. I eat when I feel bored and lonely. I'm over 210 pounds and I feel like shit. I hate my body.

Soooo, I am talking about this with my doctor of course AND also getting lots of support and love from Daddy. He is supportive of me and does his best to not get frustrated with me when I happen to down talk my body and he is encouraging me to eat better, drink water, and get active. Baby steps. He gets me. Daddy is truly helping and without him here, I know I'd be an even bigger mess than I am now. I was honest when I told him how I got skinny and lost weight and he promised me he will help me but the RIGHT & healthy way. I love him.

And well... my best friend of 11 years basically said she is kind of done being my best friend. She said that I am "emotionally exhausting to talk to" and that she "did not know what to say to me any more because she doesn't know how to talk to me." Whatever that means right?? I'm so tired of being hurt and abandoned. I promised her I would never do that to her and kept that promise but she writes me a sad letter in an unfinished notebook (which is unlike her, it never happens) and basically said she's calling it quits. I lost a best friend. What does one do when her best friend dumps her?? I've been ignoring that with everything else that has been happening....

Another thing is I recently lost my grandfather. It hurts talking about. I can't help but to cry and breakdown. I was very close with my grandfather, and my grandmother. We were all raised to be a close-knit family and we were all connected... what we have is special. But now my cheí is gone, he is reunited with my grandma... it just hurts. I seem okay but really, I still feel so overwhelmed with emotions yet empty at the same time. I'm also still in shock... i can't believe he is gone. It hurts so much.

So anyway, this was all that's been going on and my life just got a bit too out of hand for me to be active on here with my personal blog. I am hoping to get back into that to keep me busy. My son keeps me busy for the most part, and with the recent loss of my cheí, I was swamped and stressed since I'd take my baby and I up to the hospital everyday just to visit him. Also was making time to spend quality time w Daddy and re-bond with our baby. So it's been a hell of a ride. But here is a list of good things that have happened in between so I don't end this on a shitty note:

✧ Daddy, Baby, & I are doing better

✧ Baby turned 5 months old

✧ Baby melon also started rolling like a pro & is starting to crawl backwards

✧ I'm drinking more water

✧ I'm on top of taking my medication

✧ Daddy bought me a lot of great books

✧ My nails are growing back

✧ I watched some new movies w Daddy from RedBox (should I do mini reviews of the movies?? Hmm... maybe !!)

✧ Baby melon chews on his toes

✧ I've been wearing one of my grandpa's shirts

✧ I'm becoming more responsible with the money Daddy gives me

✧ I started reading more books more often

✧ I've been tracking my feelings lately & keeping a diary

✧ Daddy, baby, & I went a 3 hour road trip and had fun

✧ I wrote a nice caption for my next serious Instagram post and to me, it's super welcoming, helpful, safe, and inspiring (???)

✧ My mom is sleeping more

✧ I'm doing my best

[satans-my-spirit-animal]

This a segment from my obey me fic

Content warnings: gore, blood, suicide, excessive drama, spoilers for my fan fic

Background: so this is my take on the Belphie attic scene from chapter 16. Also Kieran is my other OC who is cursed to be stuck in the form of a cat. This is only part of the chapter but I wanted to post it because I haven't seen anyone else write it this way. Anyways here it is.

She quickly made her way over to the attic stairway. She listened for a moment before silently making her way up, making sure to stay hidden in the shadows. She reached the top of the stairs and waited in the shadows. After several minutes had passed she stood up, confused. It was almost time for her to tell Lucifer about Belphie and yet no one had appeared.

"Help... Me..." She could hear Belphie's voice from inside as he talked in his sleep. She moved over to the door and placed her hand on it. To her surprise, it swung open easily.

Her mouth fell open as she stood there wide-eyed. Had she missed the other person? Could they still be inside the attic? She went inside the attic and looked around.

"W-what!? But how?!" She choked out seeing no one there. There was the rustle of fabric and she turned to see Belphie stirring in his sleep. His violet eyes snapped open and meet hers.

He blinked confused as Cassandra froze on the spot. "...Wha? What's going on? How'd you get in here?" He looked over at the door and gasped, quickly sitting up in excitement.

"I don't believe it! The door... It's open! Did you do that?!" He smiled at her as he climbed out of bed.

"I- I don't know." She stammered at a complete loss at what to do. She was in a potentially dangerous situation now, being alone with Belphegor. His hatred of humans could cause him to turn on her at any second and his brothers were all watching her other self downstairs. She had no way of calling for help. Though for the moment he seemed genuinely surprised and happy.

Belphie seemed confused at her response. "But you opened the door and came in here didn't you? So it had to have been you." He let out a joyous laugh. "Amazing! You actually came through for me. There's no way Lucifer or Lord Diavolo ever thought this would happen. To think that I'd be saved by a human. " At the word human his eyes darkened slightly and she was overwhelmed with dread. She noticed he had positioned himself so he was between her and the door.

"It's really ironic! Now I can achieve what I set out to do." He spread his arms wide as if inviting her for a hug.

"Kill me you mean?" Cassandra growled backing away. It was no use, she was trapped. Despite all of her training, she knew that she was no match for a demon. Even her boot knife probably wouldn't do much damage if any. But regardless she wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of killing her even if it meant taking drastic measures.

Belphie's eyes went wide and then he laughed. He transformed into his demon form, horns curling out of his head and a long tufted tail swished through the air. "So you saw through my ruse and still decided to help me? How foolish of you stupid hu-" he stopped when she swiftly pulled out her boot knife and let out a roar of laughter as he stalked towards her.

"Do you really think you can hurt me with that?" He sneered at her as she gripped the knife in her hand.

She smiled back at him serenely causing him to pause in surprise. "It's not for you. I refuse to let you have the last laugh." She looked him dead in the eyes as she jerked her hand up and plunged her own knife into her neck, slitting her own throat. Belphegor's face twisted in total shock as she sputtered and staggered back, collapsing slowly onto the floor.

She managed to smile at him mockingly as her blood poured out of her throat, soaking her shirt and spilling onto the floor. Her extremities started going numb and cold and her hand fell away from her neck. Her vision started going dark and Griselda's words echoed in her mind as everything went black. "You will die at the hand of your own pride."

She was drifting in darkness until a sudden warmth spread around her and she felt as if she was lying on solid ground again. A gentle voice was telling her to wake up.

She opened her eyes to find she was back in the sun-dappled forest once again with the woman with white hair. The woman smiled warmly at her as she sat up.

"You're Lilith aren't you?" Cassandra asked and the woman nodded.

"You are a clever girl. I've been waiting so long. For you to come find me." Her violet eyes shined with warmth as she looked at Cassandra affectionately.

"You were an angel turned human right? What happened to you after you died?" Cassandra asked her wondering why Lilith was there. She wanted to ask her where her mother and grandfather were.

"I see my brothers have told you about me. Thanks to Lucifer I was reborn as a human. I lived out my life, a happy one as a human, never knowing who I was. But after my death, I remembered who I was. Now I'm worried about my brothers. Ever since becoming a soul I've been watching over them... Cassandra, please... I want you to help them." Lilith gave her a pleading look.

"I can't now... I died." Cassandra said looking away. What would the brother think when they found her dead? What would happen to Kieran? Would he be ok?

Lilith held out her hand. In it was a small, crystal bottle filled with a clear liquid. "I've been watching over your family for centuries as well. I've been safekeeping this for your father, he will know what to do with it." She placed the bottle in her hand with a gentle smile.

"Wait what? I never knew my father. Why have you been watching over MY family?" Cassandra was now even more confused.

"Because you're..." Lilith's voice faded away as everything went white.

Mammon pressed his ear to the library door as he listened in along with his brothers and Kieran to Cassandra and Lucifer's conversation.

"Move over Satan! I'm trying to figure out who Cassandra has a crush on!" Asmo said shoving Satan aside so he could hear better. "Ooh, she's certainly dodging the question! She likes one of us!" He said excitedly.

"Well, it's obviously me not you!" Mammon snapped at him and Asmo shot him a glare.

"What would a clever girl like Cassandra see in an idiot like you?" Asmo hissed at him and he cringed internally at his scathing remark. He opened his mouth to shout a comeback but Kieran shushed him.

"Shut up all of you! They'll hear!" Kieran hissed at them.

"Hey... Did Cassandra just mention Belphie?" Beel said looking surprised.

They all grew quiet as Lucifer started to go off on the other side of the door. ".... You went to that room...AND YOU MET BELPHEGOR!" He roared and there was a loud commotion. Mammon quickly threw open the door and everyone rushed in behind him.

"STOP!" Mammon shouted throwing himself between Lucifer and Cassandra. Lucifer's face was twisted in rage and he was in his demon form.

Suddenly there was a flash of light and a shattering sound, like something made of glass had broken.

Mammon turned around to see that Cassandra had vanished and that Kieran was glowing and growing larger in size.

"Wh-?" Mammon said backing away with his brothers as Kieran transformed into a man in front of them.

He had his long black hair tied back in a ponytail and wore a long black military-style coat. His ears were pointed and his eyes were a golden yellow.

"K-kieran?" Satan asked stunned as the glow died down.

Kieran's face changed from shock to pure horror. "No... This isn't possible... WHERE'S CASSANDRA?" He raised his voice in panic.

"Cassandra vanished and Kieran's curse broke?!" Asmo gasped in shock.

"B-but how?" Levi stuttered wide-eyed.

"Who cares?! Where's Cass?!" Mammon said looking wildly around the room.

Kieran's eyes fell on Lucifer. "My curse could only be broken after the death of a blood relative... So where is she Lucifer? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Kieran was shaking with rage as he took a step toward Lucifer.

"What?! I have no idea what's going on! I didn't do anything!" Lucifer seemed genuinely confused.

"Blood relative?" Satan said with a frown. "You and Cassandra are related? You've never mentioned it before."

"She doesn't know! Don't you get it?! She's my DAUGHTER! Lucifer! Where is she?!" Kieran shouted and everyone went pale. In the brief stunned silence that followed, the sound of footsteps descending the stairs echoed down the hall and they all turned to look.

"Cassandra?" Kieran called out hopefully but there was no answer. He ran to the door and out into the hall and let out a heart-wrenching scream.

Mammon and his brothers quickly rushed after him and ran out into the hall to be greeted by a horrifying sight.

Belphie stood at the bottom of the stairs with Cassandra hanging limply from his arms. Kieran was on his knees trembling in shock.

Asmo let out a scream from behind him as Mammon slowly stepped forward not wanting to believe want he was seeing.

"Belphie? This is a joke, right? A-a prank you and Cass came up with right?" He started to shake, and the smell of her blood filled the air. It felt like his heart was being torn to shreds inside his chest as he watched in horror as her blood ran down her chest from the slash in her throat.

There was a clattering sound as her boot knife fell out of her hand and Belphie tossed her body unceremoniously onto the floor with a sneer on his face.

Mammon darted forward and scooped her up in his arms cradling her. "Hang in there Cassandra!" Tears streamed down his cheeks as he tried to stop the blood flowing from her neck.

Belphie let out a cold laugh. "Too late for that Mammon. She slit her own throat before I could get my hands on her."

"NO! WHY?!" Mammon screamed as sobs tore out of his lips.

"Belphie what have you done?!" Beel said horrified. Asmo was sobbing next to Levi and Satan who both appeared to be in shock. Lucifer glared furiously at Belphie.

Kieran leaped to his feet with a wild look on his face. "YOU BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU!" He screamed and charged full force at Belphie, punching him in the face, and then wrapped his hand around Belphie's neck. Beel ran forward and pried Kieran off him.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Belphie coughed, rubbing his neck as Beel held Kieran back.

Belphie narrowed his eyes. "Wait, that voice... Kieran? Well, this IS rich. Cassandra dying broke your curse! Looks like she did you a favor." Belphie sneered as Kieran screamed and thrashed in Beel's arms.

"Belphegor!" Lucifer roared, silencing him. "Satan is she really...?" He then turned to Satan hoping that Belphegor had been wrong.

Satan sighed and shook his head. "There's no way she could survive losing that much blood..."

Asmo let out a loud wail and Levi started tearing up as the situation hit him. "No... She can't be..." Levi choked out.

Mammon held her tightly as tears streamed down his face. "Cassandra... I never got to tell ya... I should've been there..." He choked out burying his face in her golden brown hair that still smelled of roses.

Beel finally let go of Kieran who came over and knelt beside him. He picked up her hand that was balled into a fist and held it to his cheek. "I never told her I was her father..." He whispered hoarsely, tears falling out of his golden eyes.

Suddenly Kieran stopped and looked at her hand with a frown. "What's this?" He opened up her fist to reveal a small, crystal bottle filled with liquid.

"What?! But how?! Where did she get this?!" Kieran shouted grasping the bottle tightly in his hands.

"What is it?" Satan asked looking up from where he had bowed his head.

"Dryad tears! I stole this bottle over twenty years ago! It's why I was cursed. It can grant a mortal eternal life..." Kieran trailed off and looked at Cassandra with hope in his eyes.

"C-could it bring her back?" Mammon said lifting his head and seeing the excitement in Kieran's eyes.

"I'm willing to try anything." Kieran said pulling the stop out of the bottle. He grabbed her chin and pressed the bottle to her lips. The iridescent liquid slid into her mouth.

They all watched in anticipation for a few seconds but nothing happened. Lucifer came up and placed a hand on Kieran's shoulder. "Kieran, the chances of it working after she is already dead are..." Lucifer trailed off as Cassandra started to glow.

She glowed bright white, so bright that everyone had to shield their eyes as the light filled the room. After a few seconds, the light died down and Mammon opened his eyes.

Her neck was fully healed and her hair was now snow white. "Her hair!" Asmo gasped, opening his eyes as well.

"It's a side effect from using dryad tears." Kieran said looking intensely at Cassandra. "C'mon Cass..." He whispered as she remained limp in Mammon's arms.

After what seemed like ages, Mammon felt Cassandra stir in his arms. Her blue eyes fluttered open and meet his and he felt his lips stretch into a wide smile. "She's back!" He cried out happily and pulled her into a tight hug.

[dsmroleplay]

#PaintTheWallsRed #DSM #SPN #RP #ChapterFourteen

Written by @MidnightRiderDW & @julianryker

Dean: Dean is so damn lucky to have such an amazing man. This lady is the reason his friends are dead, his life is now in the shitter, and he could be heading for death row and yet here he is, still trying to help her

Dean has always been reckless but suicidal---ok, bad example but but the point here is that even though he's put his life on the line thousands of times to save an innocent person or even a not so innocent person there is absolutely nothing that can save her now. He looks at her

"Send your staff home, that hellhound will tear them into the same shreds it did those others, they don't deserve that. Hold on, Babe."

Dean walks over and picks up Julian's registered gun replacing it with his since it can't be traced

"Like he just said, you seen what that thing can do, take Julian's way out. Julian, we need to go." ::::::::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian watched, he wanted to save her so damn bad. Judging wasn’t his job. At some point he’d stopped caring what happened to him. He followed Dean out feeling numb.- What now? :::::::::::: Dean: "Now you need to know that if I could have saved her, or had even a snowballs chance in hell of saving her I would have in a heartbeat but she couldn't be saved and don't forget, she brought this on herself. I don't wanna sound like a dick, but its true. Here."

Dean hands him back his gun pushing the down button to the elevator

"Now we go establish that alibi for you and get your name cleared." ::::::::::::::: Julian: -Listening Julian didn’t feel any better about things. Securing his backup weapon he stood back up and leaned against the elevator wall.- :::::::::: Dean: "Julian, as much as this sucks, and as much as I wish there was something we could do to help her we can't but we can help you. Now, i'm hoping one day you make an honest man of me but you can't do that in prison, can you?" :::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian looked over at him and pushed off the wall of the elevator and leaned down kissing Dean’s lips.- :::::::::::::: Dean: Dean cups Julian's cheek returning his kiss. :::::::::::: Julian: -For Julian it was like a wildfire being lit. Reluctantly he pulled back as the doors opened to a group of people standing there waiting to use it.- ::::::::::::::: Dean: Deans soft main turns into an annoying groan when he hears the elevator ding and the doors open. Hearing a nun clear her throat Dean says loudly as they pass by her

"We should've pulled the emergency button and had sex."

He wiggles his brows at the nun. ::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian shook his head, stepping aside for the woman of the cloth and bowing his head in respect follows Dean out.- :::::::::::: Dean: Dean grins when they pass the nun he pulls Julian close as they walk out to the Impala trying to think of something...anything, to help his man feel better. :::::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian slips an arm around Dean.- I feel like the biggest asshole alive. :::::::::::::: Dean: "I know you do, Baby, I've been there so many times but we have a number one rule in hunting, 'Ya can't save anyone' and it sucks but you need to move on from it or it will eat ya up inside." ::::::::::::::: Julian: I get it, but I don’t have to like it. What now? :::::::::::::::: Dean: "Yeah I get that. Let's go grab breakfast. We need a place that you're sure has surveillance so we can get these charges dropped." ::::::::::::::: Julian: Alright. -Get's into the Impala and closes the door. Deep in thought, his elbow propped on the window ledge stroking his jaw with thumb. Something he did when he was upset.- :::::::::::: Dean: Dean hates seeing Julian like this, sad thing is like he just told him, he's used to it, it's part of the job but even so, he feels like crap too he's just learned to push it back like he does with everything

"How about Dante's? You need something to eat." :::::::::::::::::: Julian: Sounds good. -Looks over at Dean.- Thank you for everything. I'm glad you're here, war I know, monsters not so much. ::::::::::::: Dean: Dean glances over at Julian and winks at him before looking back at the road

"I plan on being around awhile, so you best get used to me being a pain in your ass. Sometimes i think their the same things. :::::::::::::: Julian: Maybe but at least in war someone was calling the shots and there was some damn reason for it. This is like something cosmic, feels way to damn big for some guy from Jersey taking on. ::::::::::::::: Dean: "Believe me, sometimes even for someone who's done this his entire life like i have, it's seems to damn big." :::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian reaches over and caressed his thigh, trying to give him comfort and let him know he had him at his side.- :::::::::::: Dean: Switching hands Dean lowers his other hand off the wheel and places it on top of Julian's giving it a light squeeze. His entire life all he's ever done is lose everyone he has ever cared about. Most see him as a tough hard ass who doesn't care about anything or anyone but aside from himself except for his brother. That he doesn't sweat the tragedies of his life, or just leaves behind the battles and the innocent lives he couldn't save or from keeping loved ones from seeing those lives that were lost but he can see in so many ways that Julian does. :::::::::::::::: Julian: -His large hand squeezes Dean’s thigh, his hand emitting warmth that Julian soaked up. Thoughts getting sidetracked as images of Dean laying naked beneath him replaced the guilt and grief he felt.- :::::::::::::::: Dean: "So, i have a question for ya. Does your beach house have security camera's that lead back to like your headquarters or some other place that the police can check? Not just something that is recorded at the beach house by you?"

It may be hard to understand this for a lot of people but feeling Julian's large hand squeezing his thigh like he is has Dean's heart speeding up big time. He never dreamed someone could have this kind of effect on him, but this man certainly does. ::::::::::::::: Julian: Yes but it’s kept confidential... they can be turned off why? :::::::::::: Dean: "Well, I was thinking two reasons. One, it can show that you have been there for the last 2 hellhound kills. I didn't wanna tell you this but it's starting to look like i don't have much of a choice. Even tho they'll see she commited suicide that doesn't mean they won't ask  her staff questions and find out you were there, right? Julian, there were 2 other kills committed this past week. Exactly like our hellhounds handy work but if those recordings are somewhere that's not in your position it will show us at your place when those other kills were made. Now, you wanna hear reason number two? ::::::::::::: Julian: -Heavy sigh, he was so overwhelmed he wasn’t think straight anymore.- Whats number two? ::::::::::::: Dean: "We have sex on the beach and i'm not talking about the drink. ::::::::::::::: Julian: What? -Looks over at Dean.- I don’t follow. ::::::::::::: Dean: Dean chuckles shaking his head

"We make love on the beach, Babe. Fuck, screw, do the dirty, whatever it is you wanna call it. ::::::::::::::: Julian: -Brow rose.- You think we should have public sex to give me an alibi? I’m not complaining but don’t the attacks happen at night? Who would be around to even witness it? ::::::::::::: Dean: Being a Fake FBI agent/Detective for the past 20 years actually had Dean so damn good at it he would actually make one hell of a real one

"Ok, look at it like this, witnesses at the time of the killings won't make any difference. If you can prove that you were at the beach house when those other two murders took place, you'll have not one but TWO solid alibi's, Babe. They will show you coming in, and never leaving. I notice you have hidden camera's hidden all over that beach house. The wild public sex is more for our own benefit or at least it is for mine."

Dean wasn't gonna say it, the fact that leaving that girl back there to blow her brains out knowing there's nothing he could do to help her was, as it always does, tearing him up inside. Dean's s'pose to always be tough, he doesn't even show his own brother that weakness. :::::::::::: Julian: I can see what you’re saying but Dean, your face will be on the surveillance and won’t that bring them down on you baby? Sure I’d like to be cleared but not at the cost of putting heat on you. I mean how does this not end up with you behind bars for helping me? ::::::::::::: Dean: Dean had already thought of that. It's not good, more than likely that's exactly what would happen. It was crystal clear right at this moment just how deeply his love runs for Julian

"Honestly, it doesn't. Believe me, i already thought of that and it's better for me to go to the big house and get out in a few years instead of you getting the needle. ::::::::::::::: Julian: That’s not an option. They’ll figure out it’s not me sooner or later. You’re not going to prison for me. I’m sure they’ve frozen my assets but I’ve got cash and passports... let’s just walk the fuck away and disappear. -Looks over at him completely serious.- ::::::::::::: Dean: Dean glances over at Julian but his grin quickly fades seeing the others serious expression. Glancing between him and the road Dean raises a brow

"You're fuckin serious aren't you? Where exactly are you talking about us going cuz I ain't leavin my baby behind. ::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian just looked out the window. Deep in thought.- :::::::::::::::: Dean: "Hello, earth to Julian? Ya gotta help me out here, babe. Not to mention if I do this, you're not 'letting' me do anything. It's my choice." ::::::::::::::: Julian: -Looks back at him.- It might be /your/ choice but I'm not fuckin' letting you go to prison for me. So you better get that shit out of your head. End of fucking story. -Jaw firm no way he was budging on this.- ::::::::::::::: Dean: Sighing Dean gives a slight shake of his head

"Fine, than I'll ask again, where exactly is it you plan to go? :::::::::::::: Julian: I don't know Dean, fair as I can get. This isn't your fight... I can't expect you to just take off with me. :::::::::::: Dean: "That's it..."

Midnight pulls over to the side of the road and cuts the engine turning to face Julian

"What am I, a ditchable prom date? One breath you're saying how much you supposedly love me and in the next you're just willing to set me aside? And here I've always thought You had the same motto as I do. When the going gets good it's great, when the going gets bad you fight tooth and nail to hang on to what you've got. Just so you know, at least for me, the only time in my entire life that the going has ever gotten great, is when I'm with you but Different strokes for different folks, right? Do you know I've never been in love before, not till you but it's whatever."

Turning back in his seat Midnight starts the Impala back up. :::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian reaches over and shuts the Impala off. Taking the keys from the ignition.- Don’t /ever/ assume you know what I’m thinking Dean. And don’t you ever fucking talk to me like that again. -Fingers catch his jaw and he gently makes him look at him.- You need to calm the fuck down. You going to listen to me? Or do I have to kick your bow legged ass her on the side of the road? ::::::::::: Dean: Midnight's eyes immediately look down at the ignition when Julian turns the car off, his eyes following Julian's hand quickly rolling his eyes

"I wasn't assuming anything...Ok, I kinda wasn't assuming anything."

The moment he was about to turn his head back so he was facing his eyes back on the rock covered shoulder of the road he feels Julian grab his jaw locking his fingers around it and turning his head so that he's looking into his dark brown eyes. Trying to pull away is a definite no go

In the weeks since they've reconnected Midnight has said a few times that his alpha role of always being the big man in charge with the 'Do as I say or else' attitude has met it's demise where Julian was concerned and all though Julian has never actually 'Put his foot down' this moment right here has Midnight 'knowing' this particular assumption was dead on target and proves to him that it's not just sex related

Without much choice...fine, without a choice whatsoever, he keeps his green hues locked on his brown hues seeing the seriousness in them. Raising his brows he licks his lips

"What? no, I mean no you don't have to kick my bow legged ass here on the side of the road and yes i'm listening. :::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian held his gaze as he mentally calmed himself down. Dean was high strung and seemed to get himself more upset before the facts were in.- Don’t question my love for you Dean when I’ve done nothing to indicate that I’d just /leave/ you. I think it’s best we go back to the beach house to discuss options but first I need you to take me to the First National Bank on El Cajon Blvd. Then, we need to go to the Greyhound Bus station just down the street from there. Make no mistake, I love you Dean and there’s no way in hell Im letting you go to prison for me. -Julian places the keys in Dean’s hand. His eyes had softened as he leaned in to kiss his temple.- Please trust me. :::::::::::: Dean: Julian is right, that's exactly how Dean gets. Not saying a word until Julian finishes what he has to say to him. When he's done Dean nods once he lets go of his jaw. Wrapping his fingers around the keys he looks down at the cool shiny medal that now lays in his hand

"I won't I know I shouldn't have."

Once Julian places the kiss to his temple Dean replaces the keys and starts her back up with another nod

"Alright bank and than Greyhound and just for the record..."

He pulls back onto the road

"I do trust you...completely. :::::::::::: Julian: Then try to relax while I figure out how to get us out of the country without being caught at the border. ::::::::::::::: Dean: Dean sighs but most definitely stays quite clicking the radio on keeping it low so that it's only loud enough to hear in dimly in the background. He glances over at Julian to see what it is he's doing, like he can hear him think or something

If anyone aside from Sam knows how much the Impala means to him, it's Julian since he knew his dad and knew Dean got it from him so it meant a lot to Dean that Julian was trying to come up with a plan so that he can keep her. ::::::::::::::: Julian: -As they arrived at the bank Julian got a spare duffle out of the backseat out and went inside. Showing his I’d the bank manager took him to the private security box room and he opened his. Unloading the passports, cash etc into the bag.- :::::::::::: Dean: Dean shuts off the car ducking his head down so that he could watch Julian walk into the bank. Once he disappears inside Dean rests his head back against the seat replaying the events that had just taken place about Julian scolding Dean about saying Julian didn't love him. :::::::::::::: Julian: -Coming back he put the duffle in the back seat and got into the passenger seat. Rubbing a key with his thumb lost in thought.- :::::::::::::: Dean: Dean looks in the backseat seeing the duffel had went from flat to full causing his brow to raise. Turning his head back he starts the car back up and pulls out to go to Greyhound down the street

"Wanna let me in on what's in that brain of your? :::::::::::::: Julian: I’m thinking Mexico Dean and I’m hoping we can get in without our a problem unless you have ideas? ::::::::::::::: Dean: "Mexico? Does that mean I need to learn spanish? ::::::::::::: Julian: Are you being serious right now? -Shakes head as they pulled up to the Greyhound station Julian got out and went in.- ::::::::::::: Dean: "What...?"

Before Dean could get another word out Julian was out of the car and closing the door making Dean scratch his head talking to himself

"What did I say...? ::::::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian got the a bag and briefcase from the locker rejoining Dean. Mind going over things in his head trying to make sure they had what they needed.- ::::::::::::::: Dean: Dean drums his fingers on the steering wheel waiting on Julian. His own mind racing with what he can do to keep his love out of prison. He knows the only way to do it is to show the real FBI those tapes to secure Julian's alibi. :::::::::::: Julian: We should just get across the border now. Before they figure out who they released me too. ::::::::::::: Dean: Before Julian comes out Dean sends the local police and the FBI a link to give them Julian's alibi. Just as Julian says that Dean starts up the car and a news cast comes over the radio with a broadcast talking about Dean Winchester now being on the FBI's most wanted list Dean looks over at Julian raising his brows

"Yeah, that might be a really good idea. ::::::::::::: Julian: Dammit. -Severely pissed off doesn’t say anything just hopes they can make it across the border.- :::::::::::: Dean: "Julian I need to go get my stuff from the beach house. I literally only have the clothes on my back and maybe a pair of dirty jeans and flannel in the trunk."

He looks over at Julian before pulling out of the greyhound station

"What did you get in there? ::::::::::::::: Julian: Money Dean. Get us across the border I will buy you more clothes. No doubt they’ll be there or very soon. ::::::::::::::: Dean: Dean sighs but he know Julian is right. He has his weapons bag, his cell and wallet, his baby, and the love of his life, he doesn't need anything else

"Silver lining is you're in the clear. Ok, Mexico border bound. :::::::::::::::: Julian: -Julian wanted to beat his ass, but it would have to wait. But make no mistake he was going to teach Dean a lesson very soon.- :::::::::::::::::: Dean: Dean glances over at Julian. It's clear by the look on his stern face that he knows exactly what Dean did without saying a single word.

Biting down on his lower lip Dean stays quiet. The most important thing to Dean is that Julian is safe and proven innocent but man he's in some serious hot water with Julian now. ::::::::::::::::::: Julian: -As they got to the Chula Vista border crossing Julian prayed it would be the routine no stopping going into Mexico deal as usual. His stomach in knots.- :::::::::::::::: Dean: Dean pulls up and sits in the line that leads across the Mexican border. He looks over at Julian

"Breath Babe, I've got this. We'll be fine. ::::::::::::::::: Julian: You better hope so because I’m going to beat your ass, you’ll be begging for police custody. :::::::::::::: Dean: Biting his lower lip again Dean moves up as the line starts to move

"Why are you gonna beat my again? I didn't put up a red flag saying come get me i'm a criminal or tell them i'm Dean Winchester."

He's trying to get himself into the clear without actually lying to Julian. ::::::::::::::::::: Julian: Just drive. -Breathing a sigh of relief we they were waved through.- Stay on this road there’s a gran plaza hotel on the left. ::::::::::::::: Dean: Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath once they are waved thru into Mexico. Him being in deep shit with Julian on the other hand, was something he wasn't looking forward to

He does as Julian instructs him and stays on the road until he sees the motel come into view.