#yeah shes low empathy this season and hurting those around her

[iotnonii]

I am in fact a season 4 Basira apologist, leave her alone she's my conflicted and rational little guy.

[cassandra1447]

Lucifer 5A Thoughts

Lucifer season 4 was great. It had a nice solid plotline, it had great character development for pretty much everyone, I actually thought the Eve-Lucifer-Chloe triangle was done both purposefully and realistically with reasons why all three of them acted as they did, and just generally felt like a breath of fresh air after the mishmash that was season 3.

I had few complaints - a few but not many. 

I was super hopeful about season 5. Guess what I binge-watched this past weekend?

Me:

Cue rant (under cut b/c there are spoilers aplenty and if you liked this season - please keep scrolling)

To be fair: I have only watched season 5 once. 

Unfortunately, I have no desire to watch it again. 

First of all, the lack of creativity.

Maze betrays Lucifer (again for like the 10000th time)

Michael being a jerkass - I’ll grant them his fear mojo, but could you have reached for any other concept than Lucifer vs. Michael? Or give him something more interesting than an ego-problem to fuel his evilness?

Ella’s boyfriend - look, there’s foreshadowing and there’s eye-rolling, damn it really, this guy is clearly only here to serve a plot point and he’s either going to be the victim or the murderer

Ella deserves a genuine good person and good relationship - WTF did you have to do that to her? There’s no point besides hurting her

It would have been better - and more surprising - if he had been a truly decent person even if the relationship ended up not enduring

And then there’s Chloe...and oh dear...

“Being a gift” consternation

Okay, yes Chloe is allowed to be upset and to be struggling with the divine side of things - in fact, I actually liked how they depicted that in Season 4

But in Season 4, when Chloe’s reactions hurt Lucifer, there’s a clear consequence. It’s part of why he turned to Eve, and there are a couple of excellent moments - the part where he confronts Chloe about neither being an angel like she wants or the devil like Eve wants for instance - that showed Lucifer was coming to understand himself and to stand up for his own sense of self to a degree

This time round, we get a lot from Chloe but little from Lucifer aside from him desperately wanting to be with her and willing to do just about whatever she wants to have that 

And unfortunately, whereas by the end of season 4, we definitely get Chloe seeing past the divine bombshells and remembering that she cares about Lucifer for himself - that progress is completely nullified by the “you’re a miracle” bombshell and I didn’t need to see that again

Also - WTF does Amenadiel’s spiel to Chloe about seeing Lucifer truly work on her anxiety over being made for Lucifer? Did I miss something? Chloe’s upset over this seemed to me to be because of a lack of free will - not that she didn’t know who Lucifer was. Why - when free will is such a major deal for Lucifer - was that not discussed? Why did no one - Lucifer for example - come out and say “Humans have free will. Period. You can choose to walk away from me or tell me to go, and I will. I don’t give a damn what my Father did or wants or intends. It’s your choice.”

The “I love you”

I do not get why Chloe doesn’t know if Lucifer loves her. He may have not used the three words but he literally told her the prophecy (his first love) was about her not Eve. Or what about “I would do it again”? Or any of the many actions through which he’s demonstrated that he cares about her, that he values her, that he loves her. 

And okay, maybe she needs those three words to be 100%, absolutely sure, okay. Then just ask him. How do you feel about me? What do you want from this relationship? Where is this going? You know, normal adult questions.

I’m not expecting Chloe to do emotional labor for Lucifer but if she needs something from him, she needs to ask him. I think that’s fair.

It also highlights a problem with Chloe’s empathy for Lucifer IMO - it feels like she’s once again so caught up in her emotional turmoil, she’s incapable of even seeing his. This is someone who literally just returned from thousands of years in hell, who has a family  had cast him out and treated him like the worst, has been vilified by humanity for millennia, and because of all of this has a low sense of self-worth and has come to believe that he’s a monster - love is something Lucifer literally hasn’t been shown in millions (billions?) and until very recently hasn’t been in a position to express love in return - and you expect him to drop an “I love you” nonchalantly?

Again, it’s okay to have Chloe focus on her emotions rather than Lucifer’s. But if I say something hurtful to someone - even if I’m under duress - it’s still hurtful. I still owe them an apology. 

The “not in relationship” evasion

Despite the fact that Michael lying was such a key factor in Chloe knowing he wasn’t Lucifer and Chloe clinging to the fact Lucifer doesn’t, Chloe doesn’t seem to make the connection that telling the truth to Lucifer is essential

One unaddressed factor from last season - Chloe lied to Lucifer and allowed him to think that everything was fine and that she wanted a relationship with him...and then on what he happily thought was a date almost roofied him (at minimum, who knows what was really in that vial).  Lucifer subsequently found out about the plan - so there’s a historical basis for her to lie to him about how she feels (in order to betray him) -  Chloe, he already thinks he’s unworthy of you, he’s already used to people he loves hurting him - you need to be straightforward with him

This includes not evading (or lying) about being in a relationship with him. 

At least she does eventually tell Lucifer she needs time & space I suppose

Mojo switching

Why? Just why? It happened and then it stopped. What?

Various other characters:

Linda:

Why did we only have like 2 therapy sessions? Why did Linda not get to do her job this season? Her sessions with Lucifer did help him grow - why the hell didn’t she help Lucifer & Chloe work through some of their issues

I don’t like having her plot this season revolve around children. It’s a personal thing I know - but it’s such a default plot device to use with female characters. 

Amenadiel

IDK about the timing of filming for this season but it felt really off-key to have a black man depicted as thinking the best way to make the world safer for his son to be aggressively trying to work with the police. Season 4 had an episode that dealt with the endemic racism in our justice system - why in the hell was that not carried into this season? Why don’t we see Amenadiel protesting or volunteering with a local group trying to address the systematic racism? 

Where the hell did the “reflection” thing come from? I never saw Lucifer’s mojo as reflecting, more bringing to the surface what someone already felt/wanted/knew. And even if I buy that - Amenadiel never had people behaving as if he was reflecting love before. Oh and for Lucifer’s mojo, for it to have a visible impact, he generally has to be intending it to (except for when he’s in his devil form). There’s a few examples in earlier seasons where there’s an indication there’s a low level field continuously but nothing like what Amenadiel had happen in the convent. And doesn’t that give Amenadiel two powers (time + love mojo) while Lucifer and Michael only get mojo? 

Maze

Oh look, Maze betrayals Lucifer again. Never seen that before. 

1 freaking episode with Trixie!!! And it’s also the only episode with Lucifer & Trixie and Lucifer being adorable with Trixie and then - oh, it’s not that Trixie likes Lucifer, it’s that she’s being paid by Maze to get information  (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

WTF does Maze believe Michael? He’s a lying liar who lies. I can’t believe Maze would be that stupid. 

God

Just no. 

Previous seasons seemed to be having the message that God isn’t responsible for your life, you are. Lucifer has a similar realization at the end of season 4. So why are you going to muck that up by making God an active participant???

Other things that bug me:

Lack of LGBTQ+ representation

The old-timey bit doesn’t count IMO - Lucifer gender-flipped characters at Trixie’s request so any LGBTQ+ moments aren’t genuine

Lucifer & Maze are attracted to men and women (no defined label - maybe bisexual or pansexual) but there are no moments where either of them actively show it (or someone of the same gender was obviously attracted to them); I think we get a single line about Lucifer having been with both men & women but that’s all I can recall

Is there a single non-hetero couple depicted on screen (that didn’t have to be gender-flipped)? Seriously. I’m asking. 

Ella’s treatment

Already talked about this - but it was blatantly obvious the boyfriend plot served no purpose for Ella herself, just was a way to get this character looped in for other plot purposes

Chloe’s horrible advice to ignore Ella’s internal alarm bells. I don’t - how - what - yeah, feeds into what I said earlier about Chloe being too wrapped up in her own turmoil to be able to see from even a impartial (let alone another’s perspective)

Azrael! Why do you not use this sweetheart of an angel who has an established relationship with Ella? If you had to do this terrible Ella + bad guy plot, then for heaven’s sake, at least give us Azrael to warn Ella? Or something? 

Lilith was good...but where is Eve? There’s not even a throwaway line of “Eve’s in Madagascar” or show some postcards she sent to Maze or have Lucifer check-in on her and say “Eve says hi” - does Eve still exist? It’s not like Eve understand about “being made for someone” and maybe help Chloe, right? 

The Mock-Lucifer show episode -

 if you have an episode in your show that’s parodying your show...it had better be because you work for a secret government agency and it’s being allowed b/c the government can claim anyone trying to blow the whistle got it from the TV show (Stargate fans out there?) - otherwise, no. 

I know Lucifer likes to use the case-of-the-week to mirror what’s going on with Lucifer and the rest outside of the case - but this is too blatant, to the point it feels condescending

I didn’t actually want to know the story of Lucifer’s ring. Officially at least. Leave me some mysteries please, something to speculate about with other fans, something to develop headcanons for, something to write fanfic about - the story itself was fine, but doesn’t seem necessary

Hell Repercussions

Despite Michael using it as an excuse why “Lucifer” was behaving weirdly, once Lucifer is back, there’s little to no indication of the impact Hell had on Lucifer - thousands of years, and he’s pretty much the same as the moment he left Earth

Could have had Lucifer regress somewhat because he no longer had any support structure, was among literal demons who aren’t good for socialization, and perhaps had to revert to a more violent and vicious version of himself

Could have had Lucifer return to being more hedonistic - which would have been a good point of tension with Chloe - because he was starved of anything good in hell and is now trying to soak in as much life as possible (music, drink, drugs, parties, maybe flirting/dancing)?

One thing I did like was Lucifer talking to a human in hell - could have done something with Lucifer trying to help humans who felt guilty for things which shouldn’t qualify for eternal torment - connecting with semi-decent humans in hell b/c he couldn’t go back to Earth and b/c he has more empathy for them now (although I would argue Lucifer has always been kinder towards humans than other angels - look at the very first episode and how he treated Deliah)

Did no one try to contact Lucifer in hell? Amenadiel could have visited, he could have brought letters or messages from the humans in the know...did no one think of that? To help ease Lucifer’s isolation even in the smallest way? It felt like - as soon as Lucifer left - everyone was just like ‘well, he’s in Hell now, that’s too bad.’

What I did like:

Dan

He’s struggling and he knows it, and he’s trying to be a better version of himself while knowing he’s deeply flawed

The scenes with Dan & Lucifer working a case together are some of my favorites 

While I do wish he had recognized Michael’s ploy - in light of his history of doing something morally questionable “for the greater good” and his current self-examination - his reaction makes sense to me. He’s terrified and he reacts very honestly and directly; I think Lucifer would far prefer Dan’s reaction of just shooting him to Chloe’s reaction that involved her lying to him and allowing him hope only to learn she planned on using his feelings for her to allow her to get close enough to use the poison (and send him back to hell). 

Lucifer & Trixie - loved it (up until the elevator scene at the end)

Lucifer’s very practical solution of marking Michael so they couldn’t be confused - brutal yes, but practical 

This turned out way longer than I thought it would. I could be wrong - I did only see it once so it’s entirely possible I’ve missed something or don’t remember something - and I know we’ve got more episodes to come that may improve the season.

But compared to season 4 which had a tight plot that worked in concert with the character arcs, my initial impression of season 5 is overwhelming disappointment. I expected better than I got. 

[foreverwayward]

“Wayward Hearts” Season 1 Chapter 2: Bloody Mary

Summary: As Sam and Dean begin the search for their father, a chance encounter with another hunter will change the roads ahead. Riley Munroe is a hunter, raised by her father after her mother tragically died when she was only six months old. Brought together by loss, grief, and the family business, Sam, Dean, and Riley join forces. They’ll find that their stories are intertwined and lean on each other as they search for answers and to avenge those they’ve lost. They’ll face evil, darkness, and hell itself…as a family.

Masterlist

Word Count: 8,173

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

It had been several weeks since Riley, Sam and Dean had left Lawrence together. The trio had already handled three cases, a Wendigo, the ghost of a vengeful spirit, and a demon that was hell-bent on crashing planes. 

Riley still had a small cut on her forehead from taking a hit during the insane turbulence aboard the flight.

Needless to say, the hunters had kept plenty busy.

Riley was sound asleep in the back of the car and Sam was in his own dreamland in the front seat, leaving Dean to drive.

Shooting out of his deep slumber, Sam was shaking and left gasping for air. Nightmares and constant memories of Jessica’s final moments and the horrors of watching her unspeakable death were strangling the life from him. Her soft voice in his dreams still echoed like the firing of a gun.

It woke Riley and she lunged in his direction in a natural reflex to help. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...bad dream I guess.” He tried to compose himself.

Dean glanced at Sam. “You’ve been having a lot of those lately.”

Riley pulled herself against the seat next to his head. She could hear the trembling in his voice, he was terrified. 

Laying a hand on his shoulder, she told him, “I get ‘em too.” It was the only comfort Riley could offer him.

As they connected, a wave of heartbreak and shame ran through Riley. It was enough to nearly knock her back. It took everything she had not to sob from the pain. A tear escaped her eyes and rolled down her cheek. 

Riley quickly wiped it away, hoping they didn’t see. Overwhelmed with emotions she couldn’t understand, she tried to breathe through it.

“I miss her so much.”

She had watched Sam’s face and his lips had never moved. “This can’t be happening,” Riley thought. It had been happening more and more frequently since that day with Deb in the diner. “...am I going crazy?”

Dean finally decided to speak up. “Ya know, I was actually gonna bring that up, Riley--I just didn’t know how. Even in the next room, I can hear you crying in your sleep. You both have got to try to relax.” He tried to focus on the road ahead. Dean couldn’t stop constantly worrying about them both.

As they pulled into an old fill up station on the highway, Baby’s engine purred softly before coming to a stop in front of a gas pump.

“I’ll grab the snacks,” Sam said as he hopped out of the car and headed to the small convenience shop. His hands were in his pockets with his head hung low.

Riley knew where Sam’s head was at. She and Sam had become close in such a short amount of time and had told each other practically everything. In their first week together, after a couple beers, Sam opened up to her about Jessica an d what had happened.

His heart broke all over again telling Riley exactly how he had lost the love of his life.

She laid her arms on top of the front seat and rested her head on them. “Dean, I’m worried about him.”

He sighed while watching his little brother through the store windows. “I know. I just don’t know how to help him, ya know?”

“I don’t think you can.”

Dean turned his head towards her and a look of empathy and understanding was staring back at him. Looking into her eyes was like watching the ocean, tranquil and inviting. His heart ached a little less from that look alone.

“I know,” Dean nodded, trying to make peace with the fact that he couldn’t fix Sam’s pain.

“You’re a good brother, Dean.” Riley leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss. It was enough to soften the worry on his face. She smiled. “I’ll be right back.” Riley got out and jogged over to the restroom.

Dean never took his eyes off her just as he always did, soaking in every movement she made.

He got out and paid at the pump with a fake credit card under the name ‘Mark Smith’. A cool breeze blew against him and he shivered. He popped up his jacket collar and nuzzled into it. The late November wind held winter in the air.

As he began to fuel up, Sam came back, a bag of snacks and drinks in hand.

Sam threw the plastic bag on the front seat and leaned up against the car. 

Opening his new water, he looked at his brother. “So, what’s going on with you guys? Are you dating? Are you together…?” Sam knew there was no easing into those questions.

“Actually, I don’t know what we are. I just know I like her--a lot. She makes me happy--happier than I have been in a long time. The label doesn’t really matter, ya know? As long as I’m with her, I’m good.”

Sam was happy for his brother. He had never seen him bond with a girl the way he had been with Riley. The playboy he knew was falling for his new friend...hard; Sam could read it on Dean’s face.

Then sadness swept back through him. That was what Jess was for Sam, she had been his everything. He would give anything to hold her one more time, to tell her how much he loved her.

As they all get back in the car, Sam changed the subject to push the pain aside if only for a brief moment.

“Alright, so we got a case. Toledo, Ohio. Daughter finds her dad dead on the floor of the bathroom, covered in blood that had all drained from his eyes. And get this, they were almost completely liquidated.”

Dean made a face of utter disgust. “Well, that’s lovely. No sign of a struggle?”

“Nope. And no evidence whatsoever. No fingerprints, DNA, witnesses...nothing.”

“Well, it sounds like we’re going to Toledo,” Riley added.

The engine revved and Riley reached over the seat to grab a bag of chips out of the snack bag as they drove out of the station.

------

Riley, Sam, and Dean walked into the Toledo coroner's office. Dean tried to muster up a good excuse for the coroner’s assistant to let them see the body. But after they failed to get by while claiming they were med students, Sam decided to butt in. He handed the guy $100 and the assistant nodded towards the door for them to follow him in.

“Dude. I earned that money,” Dean barked under his breath.

Sam scoffed, “...at a poker game.”

“Uh...yeah!”

Riley stifled a laugh and rubbed Dean’s arm, consoling his ‘great loss’ as they walked into the examination room. “Aw, I’ll help you earn it back. I mean, let’s be honest, I’m probably better than you at pool anyways.”

He looked down at her and playfully mocked her words.

The room was cold and medical; it reeked of death. No matter how many years on the job, it’s never a smell someone could ever get used to.

A harsh fluorescent light hung above the room. Even covered in bright light, the room still would send a chill of unease up anyone’s spine.

The assistant examined the labels on the many drawers on the wall and pulled the handle of one out toward him. A metal clunk came from the drawer as it extended completely.

All three gathered around the slab as the assistant pulled back the sheet. Mr. Shoemaker’s hollowed out, melted eyes seemed to almost stare back at them.

The medical assistant read over the coroner’s report. “Uh--Mr. Shoemaker. Official cause of death was an aneurysm. Doc thinks it may have been a stroke.”

“Really?” Dean asked in disbelief. “You ever seen a stroke that made somebody’s eyes explode?” He looked down at the body searching for clues.

“We’re gonna need to see the police report.” Riley leaned in as well to get a closer look herself, feeding her morbid fascination.

The assistant shook his head. “I’m not supposed to show you that.”

Riley looked up at him and bat her lashes. “You know,” she said slowly walking towards him, her voice in almost a sexy coo. “It would mean a lot to me if you could help us out. We have a paper due next week and it’s half our grade. I can’t afford to not pass this class. Could you just show it to us for a couple minutes? It would mean so much to me. Please?” She placed a hand gently on his arm and he swallowed hard.

“I--I guess it would be okay for just a few minutes.”

“I seriously can’t thank you enough.” Riley slid her hand softly down his arm pulling away.

Dean’s eyes grew and he stared at Sam, a look of  ‘what the fuck’  written all over his face.

The assistant walked away with a ridiculous grin, stumbling as he went.

“See boys? Just gotta know how to ask nicely.” She winked before going back to examining the body.

------

Mr. Shoemaker’s funeral had brought countless people to his home. The Shoemaker house was filled with mourning friends and family. It was warm and inviting even with the grief that filled every room. Everyone was dressed in black evening wear as they made sad conversation.

Dean looked to his partners. “I think we’re a little under dressed.”

Walking respectfully through the family room, they found their way to the backyard. Mr. Shoemaker’s teenage daughter was sitting on a wooden bench that laid on the edge of the grass on the stone patio. She was crying, her friends trying to console her. She had short brown hair that flipped up at the bottom and was in a black dress that stopped at her knees.

As they walked closer, Riley began to feel the emotions and hurt that radiated from the young girl. Again, she tried to ignore whatever was coming over her.

“Hi, I’m Sam. This is my brother Dean and our friend, Riley. We’re sorry to hear about your dad. We knew him through work.”

“We’re so sorry to bother you,” Riley added. “We heard it was a stroke. Did your dad ever talk about having any symptoms? Headaches or anything like that?”

“No--never. Dad was always really healthy. I just don’t understand.” Mr. Shoemaker’s eldest daughter, Donna, muffled her cries. 

She wiped her face with the bundled Kleenex in her hand.

“It was Bloody Mary,” a small voice to the side said. The youngest Shoemaker, Lily, was no more than seven. She had long dark blonde hair that fell over her shoulders, half up in a bow. “Before he died, I said ‘Bloody Mary’ three times. It’s my fault--she takes your eyes. That’s what she did to my dad.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

The hunters looked at each other curiously.

Dean knelt down next to Lily. “Hey. It wasn’t your fault, okay? Bad things just happen sometimes. You can’t blame yourself when you’ve done nothing wrong.”

She looked at him and slowly nodded her head, trying to believe the words of the kind stranger.

Riley watched as Dean consoled the little girl. She could feel his sincerity with Lily. After practically raising Sam, Dean was always great with kids.

Before he stood, Dean took her hand and cupped it in his, giving her a little smile.

“Thank you for your time. Again, I’m so sorry for your loss.” Sam gave a look to the others and they walked back into the house.

Sneaking up the stairs, they found the hallway bathroom. 

Upon opening the door, bloodstains were spread all over the floor. Even after a thorough clean, the tile remained stained by the blood of Mr. Shoemaker. The crimson color reflected the horrors that happened in the room only a few nights before.

“I don’t get it,” Riley said walking towards the mirror. “Everyone plays ‘Bloody Mary’. Nothing ever happens? Why now?”

Dean crouched to the floor to get a better look at the blood splatter patterns. “I don’t know. Maybe everywhere else it’s just a story. Maybe here, it’s actually real. The legend may have started here.”

“But it just doesn’t add up.” Sam took a closer look at the mirror, only to find nothing of note. “Bloody Mary only goes after the ones that summon her. Legend goes, you say her name three times and she scratches your eyes out.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Except this time, someone else says it and it’s Shoemaker who takes the hit. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror.”  

“Well, looks like it’s time to find proof of the actual legend. Who’s up for a day of research?” Riley gave Dean a look knowing how much he hated it.

His eyes rolled and his head fell back as a groan escaped his throat.

------

Back at the motel, everyone was working through anything they could find. There was little to no information on Bloody Mary or her connection to the town.

Sam worked diligently at his laptop as he sifted through countless websites.

Dean sat in a chair propped up against the window, his boots crossed over each other on the chair in front of him. 

He was rubbing his temple trying to be patient with what felt like the millionth book he’d read that sat in his lap. “Alright, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof—like a local woman who died nasty.”

Riley was sitting on the floor, papers and books spread around her as she examined everything, her glasses helping her tired eyes focus on the task at hand. 

She sighed. “Yeah, but this isn’t just a local legend. I mean, you said it yourself, Bloody Mary is played everywhere and there’s countless versions of her origin story; one says she’s actually a witch, one says she was a mutilated bride, others say she’s a demon. There’s just too many to pin down.”

“Alright, so what are we supposed to be looking for?”

“Well,” Sam said, getting the others’ attention. “Every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary and she always dies right in front of a mirror. Dean, did you get anything going through the records or newspapers at the library?”

“Oh, besides a whole new fuckin’ level of frustration? No. I've looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but, uh--no Mary. Basically? We got bupkis.”

Riley took off her glasses and stopped to think. “Well, I didn’t really find any other strange deaths in the area either, so...maybe whatever this is, just isn’t Mary.”

"Great,” Dean added with a groan.

It went quiet again as the three resumed their work until Dean’s thoughts began to wander. “God, I hate this shit. And how the hell am I supposed to focus with her looking like that?”

Riley looked up, thinking she heard Dean speak. 

He quickly went back to his book, pretending he hadn’t been staring. 

She softly smiled knowing that he was thinking about her.

Though Riley was becoming more used to hearing occasional thoughts and feelings, that didn’t mean she was ready to tell Sam or Dean about her secret.

The phone rang and Sam got up from his spot on the bed against the headboard to grab it from the small side table. “Hello?” He listened for a while and his face fell as the conversation went on. “Okay, uh--thanks.” 

He ended the call and looked over at Riley and Dean. “...a girl is dead.”

------

Riley stood in the corner of a cheap motel room. The wallpaper was a terrible green patterned print and the bedding looked worn and uninviting. A wooden pillared wall stood between her and the rest of the room.

"Have I been here before?" she thought.

Footsteps from outside grew closer just outside the door and she turned at the sound.

A man walked in the already ajar door, holding beer and take out food. 

Putting all the contents he was carrying onto the small table by the door, he peeked in with trepidation before reaching for the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants.

Riley stepped hesitantly toward him with desperate eyes. “...Dad?”

Jackson Munroe. He had dark brown hair that he could run his fingers through and soft blue eyes that were utterly were hypnotic. He was tall and broad, his tense muscles snug underneath his shirt.

His eyes moved to the main room and he froze. There was blood painted across the room; some had even splattered onto the mirror on the large wooden dresser and along the wall.

Jackson’s heart sank in his chest.

“Riley…?” His voice was soft and almost shaking with fear. 

It was then that he saw his daughter’s boots on the floor, jutting out from the other side of the bed.

“Riley?!” With a guttural scream, he ran to her side and threw himself beside her. 

Riley’s face was vacant and pale. Her eyes were barely open and her head was turned facing the side of the bed. Her throat had been slit...nearly clean through.

Seeing the brutality his daughter had endured nearly caused him to vomit.

Jackson scooped his little girl’s lifeless body from the pool of blood and into his arms as he sobbed uncontrollably. He cradled her and pushed the hair out of her face. Even in death, she was beautiful.

“Oh, honey. No. Baby girl, no. Come back to me.” He shook her, hoping he could will her back to life. “Don’t leave me, Riley!”

Jackson’s scream-like sobs filled the room. The sound of his pain was so real, it sounded as though he was dying alongside her.

“Dad!”

Riley shot up out of bed wide awake. Tears were running down her pale face and she had sweat down her back.

She was in her motel room. It was silent and the light from the parking lot only illuminated a small part of the room.

Riley grabbed her throat and looked down to check her hands for blood.

It was always the same dream and it had been happening ever since she had lost her dad. No dream had ever been more clear or real and she feared sleep for that very reason. The monsters in her waking moments never brought her the fear and pain she felt from her father in that dream.

Dean came in from the adjoining room, concern written all over his face. “Hey, you okay?”

She wiped the tears from her face before turning to him and cleared her throat. “Yeah. Damn nightmare again.”

“Okay, well...I’m, uh–I’m right next door if you need anything.” He hesitated before leaving, wanting to make sure she was alright.

Realizing that she hadn’t stopped trembling, she was afraid to be alone again. “Dean?”

“Yeah?” he asked, turning back toward her in the doorway.

“Would it...be okay if you slept with me? I know that sounds stupid, but Finn usually helps and--” she stopped and shook her head. “Never mind.”

“No, it’s alright. No need to explain. I’m here.” He walked over to her in his sweats and a black t-shirt, his feet shuffling on the carpet in a sleepy drag.

Riley lifted the sheets and scooted over, making room for him. He got into the bed and laid on his back with one arm stretched out and the other bent under his head.

Laying on her side, she pulled the blankets over them as she rested her head on Dean’s warm chest. Riley’s arm wrapped around his torso and she could feel the oxygen returning to her lungs. Within minutes, her heart rate calmed as she lost herself in his warmth.

Dean softly played with her hair as he inhaled that blissful smell that she always had. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Riley took a deep breath and exhaled. “It’s just always the same dream over and over.”

“Okay...”

“You really wanna know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

She let out an emotional and shaky sigh. “...I--I watch my dad find my body after I was murdered. He’s holding me and screaming, begging for me to come back to him. Oh, God...you think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

He could hear the heartbreak in her voice and all he wanted was to take away her pain. “No, not at all. But it was just a dream, Riley. You’re here. You’re safe.”

Another tear silently slid down her cheek. “...but he isn’t.”

Dean stopped to think before he spoke again. “Hey, I get it. I wake up in a cold sweat a lot, having to remind myself what’s real and what isn’t. Most of the time? They’re about the people that I’ve lost or the ones that I could lose. The thought of losing Sam, or Dad, or you...I just--all I’m saying is, you’re not alone in this.”

“Thanks, Dean.” 

If only he knew how much his words meant to her.

Though Riley knew that her dreams weren’t like normal nightmares, those she was always prepared for. But that night terror took on a life of its own. It had her constantly wondering why her dreams were haunting her and what it all meant.

“Listen, I’ll stay with you, alright? Get some sleep.”

Riley nuzzled into him and closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so safe.

Dean kissed her forehead and rested his head on the pillow, taking his other arm and wrapping it around her.

He didn’t care that nothing more would happen that night. To him, just being in that bed with her was heaven.

Dean hated that she was hurting and scared, but he was already determined to always be there to slay her monsters.

As Riley’s breathing changed, Dean could tell she was sound asleep.

A smile of contentment grew on his face. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

------

The next morning, the team went to the house of the newly murdered girl, a teen named Jill. It was a quiet house on a ‘cookie cutter street’. With the funeral going on across town, no one would be home.

One at a time, they gently climbed the trellis against the house with vines grown around it.

Getting up to the roof landing, Dean pulled up the window on the second floor. He crawled into the dead teen’s bedroom, the other two following in after him.

The room looked like any other teenage girl’s. There were posters of boy bands and pictures of Jill and her friends littered across the wall. She had strung lights around the ceiling of the room that softly twinkled.

Dean put their equipment down on the soft, white bed next to the lace pillow covers. He pulled out an EMF detector and went to work. Though it was quickly clear it wasn’t finding anything.

Sam grabbed a video camera and switched it to night vision mode while facing Dean.

The older brother used a ridiculous seductive expression as he looked over his shoulder. Facing the camera, he pursed his lips. "Do I look like Paris Hilton?”

Sam shook his head and walked towards the bathroom.

Examining the room, Riley found nothing out of place; no sign of a struggle whatsoever.

Riley picked up a picture off the desk of the teen and her family. And like a sudden bolt of lightning, sadness ripped through her. She felt as though she was mourning someone she loved. It was making her hurt more with every passing second. 

Quickly putting the frame back where she found it, Riley went back to studying the room.

“Alright, Mary. How are you choosing your victims?” Sam closed in on the bathroom mirror with the camera. Through the night vision, he could see something dripping out from under the mirror. He put down the camera, grabbed the mirror off the hook on the wall, and brought it to the bed.

Flipping it over and tearing the back of the mirror open, Sam asked Dean to hand him the black light from the bag. Names glowed bright enough to read as he ran the light over the ripped backing. “Gary Bryman and Linda Shoemaker.”

“Wait, Linda Shoemaker? That’s the dead guy’s wife. But I read her obit. She died a while ago.” Riley ran her hand over the names and felt immense fear and sadness consuming her. She yanked away from it, not wanting to feel it anymore.

The brothers watched her jump for no obvious reason, but decided it best to leave it alone.

------

“Well,” Riley started as she stared at the computer screen, “Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy. He died a year ago from a hit and run. The driver was never found. But the description of the car matched the one that the dead teenager drove.” She turned to the boys. “Coincidence? Pfft. Not in this line of work.”

“So, Jill kills a kid, ends up dead herself.” Dean mindlessly cleaned his gun while working through his thoughts out loud. “Okay, so what if Mr. Shoemaker was responsible for his wife’s death? What if it wasn’t an overdose? What if she was poisoned?”

Sam had a realization. “Well, it’s said that mirrors can reflect your soul. They show your secrets and lies. Hence, why it’s back luck to break them. What if Mary is punishing those whose secrets revolve around a death?”

The three looked at each other knowing they were on to something.

“Looks like we might finally have something to go on,” Dean added.

“Well, on that note, I’m gonna hit the shower.” Riley got up and stretched as she began to head for the bathroom. “Though, I can’t promise there will be any hot water left for either of you when I’m done.”

The door closed and a few seconds later, the shower was on.

Knowing that she couldn’t hear them, Sam knew that was his moment to get answers. He closed his book and turned to his brother.

“So…you weren’t in your bed this morning,” he teased.

Dean looked up to Sam and saw his insinuating expression. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. She had a nightmare last night. I could hear her and it woke me up, so I went to check on her and ended up staying.”

Sam’s eyes widened and a playful grin grew on his face.

“It wasn’t like that. Nothing happened,” Dean rebutted. “She just needed a friend. I think she really misses that mutt of hers too.”

“So, is that what you see her as? A friend?”

Dean groaned. “No...I mean, yes. Look, she’s become one of the closest friends I’ve ever had...” he stopped with a thoughtful look. “Actually, one of the only friends I’ve ever had, period.”

“...but?”

He sighed. “But, yeah, there’s something more there--a lot more. I don’t wanna push it on her though. Things are going fine and they’ll progress the way they should. We’re taking it slow. The last thing I need is to scare her off by telling her that I’m crazy about her.”

“You are?” Sam lit up.

Dean suddenly realized what he said. “Yeah...I guess I am.” 

He had never felt that way about anyone before. Dean was never the type to get involved with anyone, let alone have real feelings. It boggled his mind how Riley could have broken that wall down so quickly. If he was honest, Riley was stealing Dean’s heart one day at a time and there was no stopping it.

A look of acceptance and love ran over his face before he went over to the table to sit in front of the laptop to continue Riley’s research.

Getting up off the bed, Sam went over to his brother to help. “Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search for Mary?”

“Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database—at this point, any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me.”

“But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town.”

“Well, we’ve checked every local source possible and I got diddly squat. So, unless you got a better idea--”

“I think we’re onto something with the mirror lore. I just can’t quite place it. I mean, there seems to be a pattern, right? Mr. Shoemaker and Jill’s hit and run made good targets because they had secrets where people died.”

“And then Mary came to punish them for it. ...whether you’re the one who summoned her or not.”

“Hold on.” Dean stopped scrolling and pointed to an image. “Take a look at this.” The picture was a crime scene photo of a young woman lying dead in front of a mirror, drenched in a puddle of blood. On the glass of the mirror was a clear hand print. “Look familiar?”

“The hand print.”

“Her name was Mary Worthington—an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana.”

The door to the bathroom opened and Riley peeked out from behind it, her hair still soaked. “Alright, which one of you jerks took the last towel?”

------

Later that night, Sam had fallen into a deep sleep and Dean lied awake in bed, his thoughts racing about his earlier conversation with his brother.

A soft melody began to come from the connecting room and Dean grew curious.

Throwing the blankets off and moving his legs over the side of the bed, he stood to walk towards the sound. The door was cracked open as he peered in. Dean pushed it further as the dim light from the room spread over his face.

Riley was sitting faced away from him on her bed, crossed-legged as always. Her guitar rested on her knee as the neck of it was in her left hand. She was in a hoodie, her long hair falling down over her back.

She strummed to a beautiful acoustic rendition of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Simple Man’, as she sang along to it in perfect harmony.

Dean was in a trance. He usually hated covers of his favorite bands, but hung on her every note and pick of the guitar. It was gentle and soothing. He melted and a calm rushed over him. Somehow, Riley always seemed to look even more stunning than the day before.

“This woman couldn’t be more perfect if I had dreamt her up myself.”

Riley stopped and turned to face Dean after hearing his thoughts. It had become something that no longer surprised her the way it did before.  

Dean immediately froze in embarrassment thinking he had made a noise to give himself away.

She smiled at him and pat the spot on the bed next to hear. 

As Dean sat down, Sam’s snores could lightly be heard from the other room. They quietly laughed and Dean shook his head.

“So, you were spying on me, huh?” Riley asked with a brow raised, trying to mess with him.

“Oh, you didn’t know by now? I’m a total creep.”

She let out a breathy laugh. “Should have known.”

“Not gonna lie, that song was amazing, Riley. You did Skynyrd proud.”

She blushed. “Nah, still a work in progress.”

“You know, you don’t give yourself enough credit. I’m starting to wonder if there’s anything you can’t do.”

Riley turned and stood the guitar on the base of its body, leaning it against the side table. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Nah...I was already awake.” Dean took his time going to sit beside her. From the day they met, she never stopped making his heart race.

She looked back at him and took his hand, interlacing their fingers. Meeting each other’s gaze, their eyes darted back and forth. 

They found themselves enthralled in one another.

“You make me nervous,” he admitted to her with a shy chortle.

Riley chuckled. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”

“Definitely not.”

They leaned in, their lips finding the others. He pulled her closer and she wrapped her arms around him.

As the tension grew between them, he picked her up to put her in his lap and her legs went around him. They couldn’t get enough of each other, though still didn’t push to go any further.

Dean kissed her neck slowly in the soft spot under her ear and on her jawline. Looking back up at her Dean knew, he was a goner; Riley was stealing his heart.

Their foreheads came together and Riley rubbed the back of his head gently as his hair brushed against her fingers.

His hands ran up and down her back in loving motions.

“Dean?” she asked softly. “...is this real? Whatever’s going on between us, I mean.”

Dean looked back at her and held her chin in his hand. “...I think this is as real as it gets.”

Riley felt his heart against her chest and breathed him in. Being in Dean’s arms was her favorite place to be. Moments with him passed too quickly, but still felt frozen in time. 

She kissed him again, deep. “Stay with me again tonight?”

“I’ll never say no to that.”

Dean picked her up and brought her down on the bed with him. They laid side by side facing each other, their foreheads resting together once again. His arms were wrapped around her and her hands clung at his sides, their legs intertwined.

After a moment of silence, Dean found the courage to speak and whispered, “It’s you and me, kid. I think I might actually be in this for the long haul.”

She turned her eyes to meet his. “I’m gonna hold you to that, Winchester.”

He kissed her again and then pulled her into his chest. 

They both soaked each other in and their eyes shut, peacefully.

Dean felt himself melt into the bed with a feeling of utter contentment. Finally, he knew that what he had found was something he never even dreamed he could have.

They both fell into a blissful sleep. There would be no nightmares that night for either of them. As long as they were together, they would keep each other safe.

------

Inside the police station of Fort Wayne, Sam, Dean, and Riley were able to get the Sergeant to speak with them. They inquired about Mary Worthington and the Sheriff was taken aback.

"Mary Worthington. Yeah, that was a rough one. I still lose sleep knowing we never got the guy. Poor woman’s eyes had been cut out, almost surgically. I always thought it was a guy named Trevor Sampson--a doctor. She was having an affair with him and was going to reveal their secret to his wife. I think he killed her to stop that from happening. But uh--he’s dead now.”

“Where is Mary buried, Sergeant?” Riley asked.

“She wasn’t. She was cremated.”

Sam stepped towards the desk. “What about the mirror? Was that possibly kept for evidence or something?”

“No. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago.”

“Do you happen to have the names of her family by chance?”

------

In the car, back on the road as they headed back to Toledo, Baby drove the hunters through the dark night. Rain was falling in buckets and pounded on the Impala’s roof. The sound of splashing water tapped loudly on the windows.

Sam was on the phone hoping for some new information while Riley and Dean waited quietly.

“Oh, really? Ah, that's too bad Mr. Worthington,” he told the person on the other line. “I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well maybe next time. Alright, thanks.” As Sam hung up, he turned to the others. “So, that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques--a store in Toledo.”

Riley nodded through her thoughts. “So, basically, wherever the mirror goes, Mary is its constant hitch hiker.”

“Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow.”

“Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?” Dean asked, his eyes still on the road.

“Yeah, there is. Yeah, when someone would die in a house people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped.”

“So, Mary dies in front of a mirror and it draws in her spirit.”

“Okay, I’m with you so far,” Riley interjected. “But she’s moving through random mirrors at this point. How?”

“I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it,” Dean answered.

Fiddling with the phone in his hand, Sam finally said what was on his mind. “You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror.”

“Why, what do you mean?”

“Well, Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean, she moves around from mirror to mirror so, who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So, maybe we should try to pin her down, you know--summon her to her mirror and then smash it.”

“Okay, so who’s gonna summon her?” Riley asked as she leaned onto the front seat from behind the brothers.

“I will,” Sam said plainly. “She'll come after me.”

“You know what, that's it.” Fed up with his brother’s way of thinking, Dean pulled the car over with a screech. He killed the engine and turned to Sam. “This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret--that you killed her somehow?” Sam remained quiet, his eyes never looking back at Dean while Riley sat back again to give them space. “Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night—it's gonna fucking kill you. Now, listen to me—it wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the fucker that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean, I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place.”

“I don't blame you.”

“Well, you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done.”

“I could've warned her.”

“About what?” Dean asked, desperately trying to get through to Sam. “You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret. I mean, Riley and I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway.”

The car fell silent before Sam uttered, “no...you don't.”

“Don't what?”

Riley couldn’t help herself as she chimed back in with a soft spoken voice. “Sam...is there more we don’t know?”

Finally lifting his gaze, Sam turned to his partners with a pained expression. “Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?”

Dean shook his head adamantly. “No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it.”

“Dean, people are going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now, we're doing this.” Heartfelt and full of certainty, Sam told him, “you've got to let me do this.”

Both Riley and Dean looked at each other, fearing the worst.

------

It was close to midnight. All the shops had already closed and the streets were empty. The rain had calmed and left a soft drizzle in the air.

Parking the Impala a block or so away, in a nearby alley, Riley and the boys snuck up to the antique store. The street lights were dim, and it seemed as though the bulbs were on their last legs.

Dean took a moment to appreciate the city’s lack of care to fix things, as it definitely worked in their favor.

Riley put her cupped hands to the glass of the antique shop in an attempt to see inside, her black hoodie under her jacket caved over her face. It was too dark to see much of anything.

Sam knelt down at the door and picked the lock while Dean kept a lookout. The door opened and they went inside, making sure to be quiet when shutting the door behind them.

They turned on their flashlights and looked around the shop. The entire place was covered in countless mirrors. Their search was not going to be an easy find.

“Well...that's just great,” said Dean in sarcasm.

They studied the printed picture of the mirror from Mary’s crime scene photos. It was large, surrounded by a flourished frame in a darkened and faded brassy color.

The tree hunters split up to cover more ground. Dean stayed to the front of the shop, Riley to the back, and Sam ventured into the storage area.

As Sam walked into the darkness, he pushed a hanging plastic barrier out of his way. He shined his flashlight to check each mirror, waiting for a flicker of movement. The light bounced back and forth as it danced in the reflections of the many mirrors. He had almost given up on finding it. Finally, Sam turned and saw Mary’s mirror. An unsettling feeling radiated from it and Sam knew. “I found it!”

Lights from a patrol car shined into the shop and Dean stopped to look outside. Riley hurried in after hearing the approaching car as well.

“Cops?”

“Yeah. Shit. We must have tripped the alarm coming in. I’ll go handle it.” Dean told Riley before he turned off his light and walked towards the entrance.

Opening the door, he stepped out. “Hello, officer. Sorry, I’m the owner’s son. I came in to do some late work and I must have tripped the alarm.”

“You’re Mr. Yamashiro’s kid?” the officer asked accusingly.

“...I’m adopted?”

“Alright, you’re gonna have to come with me.” The cop went to take Dean’s wrists.

“Man, I didn’t wanna have to do this.” He turned and punched the man square in the face, sending him to the concrete, unconscious.

Dean shook his fist lightly. “Sorry, buddy.”

Back inside, Riley saw Sam staring into the mirror and slowly made her way to his side. He took a deep breath, looked into his reflection and spoke. “Bloody Mary...Bloody Mary…” He hesitated. “Bloody Mary.”

Ready with crowbars in their hands, the two waited for Mary to appear.

“I don’t like this, Sam. Swing at anything that moves.”

They were both on edge, their hearts racing. Sam stared down the mirror and Riley scanned over them all. She could feel the rage that reached out from the original mirror. It scared her in a way she’d never experienced before. The energy was strong and ran through her like a current. The spirit was twisted and evil after her incredible suffering; it made Riley sick to her stomach.

Eerie whispers swirled around them in the darkness, bringing the two into a state of fight or flight. The surrounding mirrors had their eyes on the hunters, with Bloody Mary watching from behind the glass.

Suddenly, Sam’s reflection changed. It was him, but it wasn’t. A maniacal grin grew on the reflection’s face and a voice that only Sam could hear slithered out at him. “It’s all your fault. You killed Jessica. You’re why she’s dead.”

Sam watched as it spoke to him, breaking his heart with every word.

Riley could feel his pain and she clutched at her chest trying to catch her breath.

“You had dreams of it happening for days before her death. You said nothing. You killed her.”

“I know. It’s my fault”. Sam’s eyes began to drip with blood and dark veins were protruding from his face. It felt as though his insides were being ripped apart. He fell to his knees groaning in agony. “I deserve this.”

“Sam, no!” Riley rushed to the different mirrors showing the creature’s reflection. She smashed every one of them with all her might.

The spirit finally appeared in the original mirror and Riley ran to break it, sending shards of glass everywhere. She covered her face and when the glass fell, Riley ran to Sam’s side as Dean rushed back in.

“Sammy! Are you okay?” Dean slid into his little brother, his eyes scanning him for more injuries.

“It’s Sam,” he said correcting his brother with a faint voice.

As Riley and Dean helped pull him up off the ground, a snarling sound came from in front of them. Riley picked up her flashlight and aimed it at the broken mirror. A hand darted out from the frame. 

Slowly, something began to crawl out of the broken mirror. Its skin looked dead and decayed and its hair was long and black, draped over her face. She was twitching violently with every move and began to crawl towards them, her tattered and dirty white nightgown dragging with her. The creature moved faster and faster in their direction as her anger grew.

Blood began to drip from all three of the hunters’ eyes and pain beyond words strangled them from the inside. They fell to the floor groaning and straining with weak, muffled cries.

The evil creature stopped in front of them as she waited to watch them die.

With what little strength he had left, Dean grabbed the mirror beside him and raised it above him to face Mary.

She instantly stood up and her body calmed. Her hair split from her face, revealing a sad and broken woman. The spirit looked at herself and a voice echoed. “It’s your fault. You killed them all.” 

Mary’s eyes began to bleed and it seemed as though she was slowly melting away. As fast as the shift started, she suddenly broke into tiny pieces of glass that scattered on the floor.

With what strength he had left, Dean threw the mirror to the ground where Bloody Mary had finally met her end. And as the mirror shattered, shards landed among what remained of the once tormented spirit.

Sam, Dean, and Riley huddled together waiting to make sure that the nightmare was over. Their heads were pounding, their chests heaving, and streams of blood covered their cheeks, dripping down their necks.

When the room remained still, Dean looked around at the broken mirrors and the glass that had sprinkled all around them.

“Hey guys...” he paused.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, panting.

“That’s gotta be, what? 600 years bad luck?”

------

Back in the car as they drove out of town, Dean couldn’t help but remember Sam’s comment. He had secrets about what had happened with Jess. It was driving him crazy. “Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell us what that secret was.”

Riley listened with intent waiting for his reply.

“Look, you’re my family, and I’d die for you. But there’s some things I need to keep to myself.”

They both tried to accept his answer and let it go for the time being.

Riley had a moment where she felt Sam’s emotions heighten again. There was a deafening emptiness.

Sam flinched and Riley could hear him think about how he thought he was seeing Jess on the corner of the road in a floor-length, white nightgown as her long blonde hair blew in the breeze.  

He was wishing and aching for her to really be there, still knowing that he had to remind himself that it was only wishful thinking. Sam took a shaky breath as he realized it was time to accept that Jessica was gone.

Guilt for not telling the boys about her own secret was killing Riley. She just needed more time. Until she knew what was happening to her, she didn’t want to worry them.

Riley already loved Sam and Dean. They were her partners and she was so proud to be a part of their family. Sam was beginning to feel like the brother she never had. She wanted to protect him and to find a way to ease his broken heart. Knowing the pain he was in kept her up at night.

Her thoughts then fell on Dean. Riley looked over at him and he quickly peered over to her while trying to pay attention to the road. He reached for her and she scooted to his side. Riley felt his warmth like a blanket on a cold night and it soothed her soul.

He kissed the top of her head and pulled her close.

“How does she do this to me? I think I’m falling for this girl.” Dean smiled down at her again before locking eyes on the highway ahead.

Riley’s stomach did a somersault and she could feel his affection seeping into her skin. What they had was genuine; she could feel it in her bones.

It was happening--Riley was falling for Dean too and the thought made her nervous with every fiber of her being. Slowly, that feeling passed though and all she could feel was peace.

That’s what Dean did for her. He was her compass, guiding her towards something she never thought she could have.

And Riley knew she would follow him and Sam anywhere.

Chapter 3: Hook Man

Subscribers: @coffee-obsessed-writer you’re my only one so far lol thanks, girl! Please let me know if you would like to subscribe to the series.

[veronicamarsbars]

You Were Friends Once Before, But It’s Not Like That Anymore

Pairing: Lip Gallagher/Reader

Word count: 2059

Part ¼

Warnings: Just a lot of fucking swearing 

SET IN SEASON 8

Series Summary: You were always the odd one out wherever you went, and it definitely didn’t help when you became close friends with the blue-eyed mischievous boy from the South Side. But when graduation forced you apart, five years down the road, you finally realized why you stopped being friends. With intentions to fix your friendship, you went back to the Gallagher house, but realized all too quickly that you were about to get a lot more than you bargained for.

PART ONE

You eyed Patsy’s from across the street. The low sun in the sky indicated the early hours of the morning, not to mention all the shift-workers or police officers grabbing their first cups of coffee on their way to work, or the ones grabbing food on their way home from apparent long night shifts. You’d heard that Fiona took over the joint and you smiled at the sight of it looking so lively. You always thought that she deserved something more.

You remembered when it was owned by this guy who could barely keep the place running. Both you and Lip would make jokes about it on your way back to the Gallagher’s place. It was rundown and full of junkies, needles littered the sidewalk and the food never really tasted that great.

You relied on Lip’s judgment for that last part since you could never bring yourself to actually eat anything from there.

The blue-eyed boy flashed in your mind, the memories of high school spent growing up together. Well, at least for the last few years of it anyway. But those last years were crucial and you learned a lot from the Gallagher family. Instead of being ignored at home you were listened to, you would laugh around their dinner table even if you were just having a cheap pizza. Lip would sneak you some beer when Fiona wasn’t looking, because no one batted an eye when Lip drank, but if you did Fiona would kick his ass and say, “Stop corrupting her, she’s gonna make it big some-day.”

You missed Fiona, she was like a big sister to you. She taught you about hard work and family loyalty, not just her but all of the Gallaghers. Except for maybe Frank. He was someone difficult to get used to. The nights he spent half naked passed out on the floor or on the couch, reeking of alcohol. His stupidity and lack of sympathy, or even empathy, boiled your blood. Especially when you knew that it hurt Lip, even if Lip liked to pretend that it didn’t.

You sighed, still holding your bags. You weren’t sure why you came back. These years since moving away for college had been tough and now that was all over and done with, you didn’t know what to do next. You spent a year away from home trying to find your place in the world, but it never felt right. You came back home and sat on your bed and your thoughts immediately went to the life you lived before college. You went through some of your old stuff still in boxes. There were photos of them, wide-eyed and childlike, photos of you too. You had this crappy, old film camera. It did its job, though, and you were always so excited to get the photos developed. You picked up one of the photos delicately and smiled, a baby Liam. He was in a diaper. Lip was holding him, and you remembered that he never knew you were taking the photo until the camera’s obnoxious loud click and the bright flash. He was embarrassed that you had a photo of him with a baby and you were embarrassed that you even took the photo at all. But neither of you mentioned it.

Then, you found your old phone. It was dead, so after some scrambling around through the boxes, you found the charger. When the phone came to life and flashed before your eyes…

You walked down the street. It was still early and the nerves deep in your stomach wouldn’t allow you to even step onto the Gallagher’s sidewalk. You decided to just walk around the block instead, hoping that it would clear your head. Maybe give you some courage. You knew you had to see them, to see him again. It had been too long since you last spoke. Five years.

You sat down on a bench and settled your bags beside you. You looked up from the road and saw a familiar street.

You remembered how devastated and terrified you were when your teacher suggested tutoring. You thought you could make it through high school without having to create any meaningful relationships. Sure, you had friends, as friendly as private-school girls could get, anyway. But tutoring someone meant to go to their house and spend time with them, talk to them and encourage them to study. Get to know them and understand how they work.

You were terrified because your teacher had suggested a boy, the same age, from South Side. Your stomach clenched, and you immediately went to argue with her, but she didn’t like your supposed ‘nonsocial’ behavior, as she put it, and it would be “charity”. Serving. Giving to the poor, helping the needy, all that bullshit. It looked good on your school record and it looked good for the school. There was basically no choice in the matter.

Then when you met Lip, started tutoring him, you realized he didn’t need any fucking tutoring at all. The boy was a genius, a god-gifted genius with a brain so creative and intelligent. You were gob-smacked because you were one of the highest-ranking students in your class. You never did understand why you were placed with Lip but god, if you hadn’t been, who would you be today?

You remembered walking up to their house for the first time. You remembered the screaming contest going on inside between Fiona and Frank, at the time, you were sure someone was being murdered. You were also sure that you had gotten the wrong house. Or at least, you had hoped so.

But then these two boys were walking on the sidewalk towards the house. You hadn’t noticed them yet, instead you were still staring up at the looming house deciding if you could just fake having tutored the boy to your teacher, somehow.

They noticed you, of course. You were stupidly wearing your private school uniform in the middle of the fucking street. A navy blazer and a button up shirt with tie, a classic checkered skirt and navy knee socks. If you’d worn an actual target on your forehead instead of the uniform, you might have had a chance.

They laughed at your appearance as they came closer and Lip was close to asking if his brother, Ian, had slipped him some drugs. They stopped close to you as soon as you noticed them, like a deer in headlights you stared at them. To be truthful, you were staring at them because you were scared that they were going to mug you or try and sell you drugs.

They knew that, of course.

Lip nodded at Ian who was already settling into action. Lip stopped right in front of you and eyed you. You eyed his dirty shirt and scuffed jeans and his stare bordered on a glare. Ian crossed his arms over his chest. There was silence, and then Lip said, “You the girl?”

You, again stupidly, said, “Yes.” You were sure they were asking for the tutor.

Lip instantly frowned and turned to his brother, a raised eyebrow. He was counting on you to say ‘no’. He tilted his head and decided to go with it anyway, “The girl with the drugs, right? Coke?” He tried to keep his cool, but it was slipping away, especially when your eyes grew even wider. He felt the laughs in his stomach, but he fought them off as best as he could.

“Wha—what?” You stuttered, backing away from them. “Drugs? Me?”

“Yeah,” Ian continued as Lip bit his cheek. “We’ve been waiting for ages now,” he said, “and we’re getting a little testy. My friend here especiallydoesn’t like to wait,” he gestured to Lip beside him.

You stumbled back and clutched onto your school bag, “I-I’m not who you think I am.” You stuck your hand into your bag and pulled out your mobile phone, ready to run and dial the police.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you fit the description.” Ian turned to his brother, “Doesn’t she?”

Lip regained himself enough to speak again, “Ye—yeah. Yeah, definitely. Student, female. She’s got the big ass bag and everything. Must have a whole lot of coke in there—”

You quickly interrupted and backed away from them as they kept coming closer, “I’m just a student! Just a tutor, I came here to tutor, that’s it!” Your voice came off as desperate as you pleaded with them.

Lip stopped in his tracks and looked at Ian, who frowned also and shrugged. Lip turned back to you and eyed your uniform again, you really were out of place. “Tutor?”

You nodded, still uncertain of them.

“For who?” Lip scratched his head and peered up at the house, he never heard anything about Debs or Carl getting a tutor. And no way could Fiona afford a rich kid from the opposite side of town. Besides, it wasn’t like they needed one. They were getting by… mostly. And if they were really struggling, Lip could always squeeze in some time to help them anyway.

You swallowed, “Phillip Gallagher.”

Lip turned back to you and widened his eyes and Ian instantly burst into a fit of laughter beside him, clutching his stomach. Lip couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

You looked between them, confused but still alarmed. If they were junkies needing their next fix, you needed to get out of there as soon as you could. But the red head was laughing wildly and the other stood there, with an open mouth like a dead fish.

“You’re here to tutor me?” He said, gesturing at you and then at himself as if to make things clearer.

You blinked, surprised, “You’re Phillip?”

“What the fuck?” Lip said, he glanced at his brother, but Ian was useless as he laughed even harder. “A fucking tutor from,” Lip stepped closer to you and grabbed your blazer, so he could see the school’s logo, “From a fucking Catholic school. Great. Just what I need.”

You were suddenly alarmed at how close he was to you and how he was touching your blazer. You took a step back from him and in the process, shoved him off your blazer. You glared at him. “Oh, so you think it’s funny to scare the hell out of me, huh? Prey on an innocent person who just happens to be here to help you? Taking time out of my day for free—”

He blinked and interrupted, “For free?” He looked at your angry face, slightly amused. He never thought Catholic girls could fight back.

You frustratingly blew a huff of air out of your nose, “Look, I’m just here because I have to be. It wasn’t up to me.”

“My school never said anything about a damn tutor.”

You sighed and shook your head, “Well,” you started, helpless, “I’m here. I came all this way, I might as well tutor you.”

Ian cracked a grin but didn’t say a word, instead he introduced himself to you and you thought he was particularly handsome. His smile was kind and his hair well kept, then he went on inside the big house that was full of screaming and shouting not too long ago. You guess you were right about finding the correct house after all.

Lip stared at you. He couldn’t understand how the hell this had happened to him. It wasn’t like he was doing badly at school, he himself had tried to tutor students before. There must have been some kind of mix up, he thought.

“So… Do you want me to leave or?”

He swallowed and looked away from you when he realized he was staring too long. It was even more uncomfortable because he realized you had a pretty face, and even though the uniform your school made you wear was both awful and hilarious, he found it kind of hot. Too hot. The short skirt and everything. Even the damn tie. He swallowed, “Yeah, yeah. But call me Lip, no one calls me Phillip.” He made his way to the front entrance, leaving the gate to his house open behind him, “You coming, or what?” He turned to you, and that moment of eye contact left you more confused than you’d ever been in your whole damn life.

[myaekingheart]

27. Sexual Harassment

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3

index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

               It was that time of the year when the weather was at its peak—the chill of winter had made way for the impending summer heat, but it was not yet quite so hot that the sun sucked all of the energy out of you. Young adults all over the village took full advantage of this time of the year, trekking out at sundown to bar hop and gamble and carry on in the streets. It was definitely the liveliest season for Konoha’s youth.

               While neither Rei nor Kakashi were necessarily ones for the nightlife, there was little else to do with so much drunken yelling from outside that they shrugged and dropped their introverted pasttimes for the hell of it. Their books wouldn’t miss them for just one night of socialization. More than anything, they were positive the most enjoyment they would get from this was laughing quietly at the drunken idiots stumbling down the street. Neither of them were surprised to find Jiraiya among them.

               “Hey, Kakashi!” he called down the street, a woman on each arm. “Nice to see you out enjoying the nightlife for once” he said as he came nearer. “And looks like you’ve gotten yourself a date, too!”

               “Master Jiraiya, how much have you had to drink tonight?” Kakashi asked cautiously. Jiraiya glanced from one side to the other, surveying the girls on his arms.

               “Apparently not enough!” he then laughed, nudging Kakashi on the shoulder and adding quietly “If you know what I mean.” Kakashi sighed and he was yet again grateful to be wearing a mask so no one could see his cheeks blush in embarrassment. “Here, you two follow me. I want to show you something!” Jiraiya then announced, urging the couple to join him. Rei glanced to her boyfriend with concern. She didn’t know Jiraiya nearly as well as Kakashi did, but she knew enough to understand that this was likely not going to go well.

               The sannin led them to the window of a little antiques shop. Rei recognized it as the one that was run by an old woman her grandmother had known, someone she had grown up with or something. On the exterior display shelf sat a tiny mechanical monkey holding a pair of cymbals. Jiraiya inserted a coin and pressed a button, and the monkey began to bang his instrument to the tune of a peppy old song. “Look at him go!” Jiraiya laughed. “You know, he kind of looks like Orochimaru! I think they have the same nose, huh?”

               Oh my god, Rei thought to herself, glancing at Kakashi with a fake smile pasted on her face. Kakashi sighed and shook his head as his girlfriend buried her face in her hands. Quite frankly, she didn’t particularly want to be associated with an easily amused pervy toad sage. Kakashi thought of the two of them sneaking off for a moment, but then something else captured his attention. His ears honed in to a conversation between two drunken men behind them, laughing and falling all over each other. He felt their eyes land on Rei’s lower back, catching murmurs of terms like “sexy” and “give me a piece of that ass.” He clenced his jaw as he focused all of his attention on their voices, itching to wrap his arm around Rei in a protective manner, an assertion of dominance and ownership.

               For drunk men, they were fast. They fell forward and the one’s hand barely grazed Rei’s ass before Kakashi swooped in and gripped his wrist hard. “I would think twice about what you’re about to do” he said, glaring at both of them. Rei gasped as she turned around, completely unaware of the danger she had been in. “I suggest you both just move along” Kakashi continued, his free hand skating up towards his headband, “I don’t want to have to use this.”

               The two men recognized him immediately and very quickly regretted their decisions. Supposedly from behind, they had a hard time distinguishing his identity, but now it was crystal clear: they had just crossed Kakashi of the Secondhand Sharingan. If they didn’t atone for their mistake, he would surely make them pay. They bowed their heads and apologized profusely before running off, nearly tripping over their own two feet as they went.

               “K-Kakashi, what was that all about?” Rei asked. Her eyes had grown wide with shock and confusion. He turned to face her with a certain breed of frustration and coldness in his eyes.

               “We’re going home” was all he said before taking her hand in his and guiding her back to the apartment complex. I knew we never should’ve done this, he thought to himself. The only way he would ever let a man lay a hand on Rei was if he was dead, and even then he couldn’t guarantee anything. And all the while, Rei was still begging for answers, looking around confusedly, which only seemed to make matters much worse.

               He said nothing the entire journey back, locking the door as she leaned against his desk with arms crossed. “I wish you would just tell me what the fuck is going on” she insisted. “Are you mad at me or something? Because I didn’t do anything wrong.”

               Kakashi exhaled sharply, unable to even look at her. “That’s exactly the problem, you didn’t do anything” he said, voice low.

               “What are you talking about?”

               “Those men were about to assault you and you had no idea” he finally said, voice firm but booming. Rei was taken aback—normally Kakashi was calm and collected, even in battle. This was a version of him she was unfamiliar with, even after all this time. “You should’ve been paying closer attention. I expected better of you as an ANBU Black Ops member.”

               His words stung, a poison kunai straight to the chest. He was right. She should’ve been more aware. She should’ve never let her guard down. “I just…” she stammered. “I just thought, I don’t know…I was with you. I felt safe. I didn’t think I needed to worry so much…”

               “Well one day, I might not be there” Kakashi said. “I need to know I can trust you to keep yourself safe.”

               “Kakashi, what are you trying to say?” Rei asked. “I’ve made it this far without your help, haven’t I? I don’t need you to protect me all the time. I can handle myself.”

               “Tonight proves to me that you can’t” Kakashi growled. He didn’t want to show any sign of being hurt by her words now. He didn’t like to think about those days, all that time he had pushed her away. He knew no matter what, she would always resent him for that, and it made him sick.

               Rolling her eyes, Rei scoffed and muttered, “I’m not a baby, you know. I can handle myself just fine without you.”

               “Well, until you prove that to me, I don’t think I can believe you” he growled back.

               Rei sucked in a deep breath, forcing herself not to cry in front of him. Crying would only make things worse. Crying would only reinforce the fact that she was weak and vulnerable, and negate her claim that she was not, in fact, a baby. “I think I should go” she said quietly. She pushed past him, unlocked the door, stepped out into the hallway. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

               It wasn’t until she was safely back in her own apartment that she let herself break down. How could it have possibly come to this? What had become of this god awful night? She curled up in bed and prayed to fall asleep quickly so she wouldn’t have to overthink it.

               Come morning, Kakashi woke up feeling groggy and worn out. He could scarcely sleep, and there was a lump in the pit of his stomach. He considered knocking on Rei’s front door as he stepped into the hallway but restrained himself. She never was one to wake up early, and if he tried to speak with her now it would only make things worse. He pressed his hand against the door, ran his fingers down to graze the knob, and then walked away.

               “So, what is exactly is the problem?” Naru asked, leaning back in her seat. She held her cup of tea casually in one hand, left leg crossed over top of the right.

               Rei blinked. “Naru, I told you” she replied. “Kakashi got his panties in a bunch because apparently I’m not alert enough. I really don’t want to have to go through the whole spiel again.”

               “No, I know all that” Naru replied with dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m not deaf. I just don’t see how any of this is a problem…?”

               Groaning, Rei buried her face in her hands. “My god” she sighed. “It’s a problem because it’s an insult to my ability! The idea of me being unalert…I don’t know, it just made me feel like he was saying I wasn’t good enough. Like I’m some weak, whiny little child.”

               “Well, you’re not exactly disproving the whiny part” Naru laughed. The redhead shot her a death glare. Naru took another sip of her tea, then spread her hands across the table like an entrepreneur about to propose a massive deal. “Listen, I know you’ve got this complex where you always have something to prove but just this once, can you please not act like everyone is against you?”

               Rei crossed her arms and sucked her teeth. “How do you expect me to do that?”

               “For starters, you can stop being such a whiny little bitch about this” Naru suggested. “And most importantly, try to muster up some sense of empathy. Do you have any idea what those guys might have had in mind?”

               She hadn’t thought too deeply about it. She hadn’t wanted to. But now she had no choice. The scenarios began filtering through her head, and they scared her. “Yeah, well, what about it?” Rei fired back. “It’s not like I can’t handle myself.”

               “That doesn’t mean a damn thing, Rei” Naru replied, slamming her fist on the table. Taken aback, Rei brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and coughed into her fist.

               “N-Naru, listen, I’m sorry, just…just don’t cause a scene, alright?” Rei asked quietly.

               Naru chewed her bottom lip and leaned back in her seat. “Do you have any idea why this bugs me so much, Rei?” she asked after a moment of silence. Rei shook her head. “I have been in your position countless times before. I have been sexually harassed more times than I can count on one hand, one time almost even raped. It doesn’t matter how skilled you are. It doesn’t matter where you are, what you’re wearing, nothing. Men don’t care. If they want to take advantage of you, they will. You try to fight but…it only encourages them further. Nowhere is safe anymore. Not even your own village.”

               There was a long stretch of silence as Rei struggled to comprehend what she had just heard. “W-when…?” was all she could finally croak out. Naru shrugged and took another sip of her tea.

               “The most recent was a few months back, on a mission” she replied.

               “Who would do something like that?” Rei asked.

               “You’d be surprised” Naru said. “This is exactly what Chikara-sensei warned us about back then. We should’ve taken her more seriously.”

               “And here I thought she was just drilling extremes into our heads” Rei sighed, taking a swig of her own tea.

               Naru ran a hand through her short blonde hair and shook her head. “Listen, I know you’re probably still pissed, and after everything you’ve been through, I wouldn’t blame you. But for the love of god, do not stay mad at Kakashi. He did what he felt was right by protecting you. I wish I would’ve had someone like that to step in and interfere when I was being targeted.”

               Rei couldn’t stomach heading home that afternoon once her lunch with Naru had ended. She didn’t think she could handle being cooped up in that stuffy apartment, never knowing if and when Kakashi would knock on her door. Instead, she wandered around the village until, come midnight, she found herself downing her fourth sake in a bar. Perhaps alcohol could have cleared out all the bad thoughts, but as she called over the bartender and ordered yet another drink, she realized more than anything it just amplified them. Naru’s words echoed in her head, pounding unrelenting like massive drums.

               She had a fair point. Knowing her own history with sexual harassment made Naru’s stance that much more understandable. And yet a part of her still couldn’t fully come to terms with the idea of Kakashi being quite so overprotective. Had she not proven herself already? She was a part of the ANBU now. She thought that was enough. Apparently not. She took another swig of her drink, then left some money on the bar and headed out. It was getting late, the booze clearly wasn’t helping, and now she just wanted to go someplace quiet and be left alone.

               As she trudged back to her apartment, tipsy and tired, she heard voices echo in the background. There was something familiar about them, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Was it Guy on his way home from a late-night training session? No, these voices weren’t exuberant enough. Maybe Asuma walking Kurenai home? No, not him either. It wasn’t until she passed the antique shop that she fully recognized it. The men from before.

               “Hey, sexy! What are you doing out here all alone? Where’s your boyfriend, huh?” the one asked, and then in a flash he was mere inches from her face, trapping her between himself and the wall.

               “I smell sake on your breath” the other growled. “Looks like someone’s had a little too much to drink.”

               “I’m perfectly sober, thanks” Rei spat, narrowing her eyes at them though her vision was blurry and doubled. She hoped she hid it well enough.

               “We better take you back to our place, just to be safe” the first one replied, skating a gentle hand across her cheek and down her neck.

               “I said I’m fine” Rei insisted. The second man laughed incredulously.

               “She’s feisty!” he commented. Then, turning to his partner, “Guess we’ll have to do things the hard way.”

               “Rei!” a voice shouted from down the street. Before they had time to react, the men lunged forward to seize her. Then the pang of metal glinting in the streetlights, a splash of blood, and they fell to the ground crying in agony. Kakashi blinked from the other end of the road.

               “Told you I was sober” Rei growled, leaning down just close enough to slash them one last time with the kanzashi from her ponytail. “It’s sad, really. So undesirable that you have to harass women just to get laid. What would your mothers think?”

               “R-Rei…” Kakashi stammered, rushing toward her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

               “Just taking care of some business” she replied, sliding the pin back into her hair.

               “They could’ve hurt you” he replied.

               “Yeah, and I stopped them” Rei said back. “Now they won’t be hurting anyone anymore” she replied, jerking her head down toward the pair. They both held their crotches and panted in pain. “And if they do,” she then added, giving them each one last kick in the pants for good luck, “They’ll know what’s coming.”

               “You should’ve let me handle things” Kakashi replied.

               “From all the way over there?” Rei asked, motioning to the other end of the street. “They would’ve already violated me ten different ways by the time you got over here. I took care of it myself. I’m safe. Isn’t that enough for you?”

                Kakashi heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s more complicated than that” he sighed.

               “Then explain it to me, please” Rei begged, borderline hysterical now. If she let herself be vulnerable, she was a liability and putting herself in danger, and yet if she defended herself, she was still doing something wrong. Either way, she couldn’t fucking win.

               “I can’t afford to lose you!” Kakashi finally exploded. “I don’t like the thought of you being in danger. I can’t stand to lose anyone else. I made a promise when I first met you that I would protect you with my life, and so far I feel like I’ve failed in that so I can’t afford to screw up anymore.”

               Rei blinked, staring back at him dumbfounded. This was a lot of information to take in at once, and she wasn’t totally honest when she said she was sober. Then, finally, she straightened her back and sucked in a deep breath. “Well, I appreciate your concern, but I’m not a child anymore. I’m not helpless.”

               “I’m sorry for ever making you think that was how I felt” Kakashi replied. “But I’m not sorry for how I reacted.” He stepped forward slowly, cupping her cheek in his hand and looking at her with a weak, teary gaze. “You are…very precious to me, Rei. I don’t ever want to lose you, and whether you like it or not, I am going to do everything in my power to make sure I never do.”

[renegadesrpg]

Dark Angels: Creation Part 7 Revelations and Plans

Bryn: Shock doesn’t begin to express what I feel, and I’m not the only one. None of us ever really talked about the lives we’d been recruited from, beyond the bare basics. To hear Sean’s laid bare so matter-of-factly was like having an emotional lightning bolt flash through the image I’d conjured. I’m no empath but it doesn’t take one to read this group. Sean normally leaks empathy like a sieve and helps all of us but he’s put up a wall I’ve never seen before. Adrian’s gone stoic. It figures. Spartan boys were taken from their families young, but that sense of loss never goes away. Sorrow had flashed across Sin’s face before he’d schooled it to settle back into his normal, analytical expression, but it was Zav that worried me. Deep lines had formed on his scruffy face and his eyes….totally haunted. We had secrets among us. The kind that left scars that no one wanted to break open and here we’d gone and done just that. As I walk around the table to Sean, I drop my hand on Zav’s shoulder and give it a brief squeeze so he knows that he’s among family, then drop to squat in front of Sean. 

“There are other places of power Sean. I’ll find another. Let your parent’s power rest until it’s time for it to find the new humans that call to it.”

Sean: Shaking my head, I interrupt her, “No. This is the place.”

I’d been 12 when they died, but I’d already known the responsibilities of power. My parents had raised me to it, and before she’d stood as sacrifice, my mother had told me she was doing it as much for me as for my father. That one day I’d need them, need what they could give, and this way they’d be there. And now they were going to be.

“My parents would want this. My parents both had the sight. They were prophets and before my mother died she told me this day would come. It’s been foreseen. I don’t know the outcome of this fight, but I know that when you screw with prophecy, it always goes sideways. So, yeah, this is the place.”

Easing down the wall I’d put up isn’t easy, but one of my contributions to this group is to help keep emotions from either freezing us up or clouding the issues and right now, I’m pretty sure they’re doing both, so time for me to work. With a deep breath and an effort of will, I put away the memories. If I feel like my mother’s smiling at me right now, I can’t help that, but I can use it to stabilize all of us. It’s a familiar feeling, warm and kind, and I can almost hear her voice telling me to trust myself, just like she used to when I was a kid. I use that now to focus myself on the task at hand, letting it leach out of me towards the others to replace the sadness I am drawing away. The weight of their emotions will stay with me for a brief time, but I’ve got broad shoulders and I can handle it. As the heaviness of the memories leaves each of them it’s like the entire room is taking a breath. Adrian and Zav visibly relax and Bryn, although she’d been very contained, also took a mental inhale. Sin is …well, Sin. Always in control but as I open myself I can feel a subtle easing of his tension. Focusing on the hovering image on the table, I take a breath.

“The power isn’t going to be an easy thing to tap into. I’m not sure it can be used the way you describe, Bryn. Once the megalith is freed it will look for its host immediately, so unless it chooses Sin, he can’t tap it and it won’t stick around. But adding that to Sin’s own strength, the Horseman’s power and stolen souls and Zav’s grace it might be like adding a stick of dynamite to the mix anyway. I’m not sure it won’t all explode even without adding the megalith’s stored energy. Now, the standing stones outside the circle might be useable since they were designed to guard the megalith, but you’ll still have to be careful. If the traps use magic sympathetic to what’s there, it will boost the spell to the point it could take us all down. And if it uses magic antithetical to my mother’s power…it will definitely take us all down.” 

Sin: *I feel the tension ease within me as Sean brings himself back to us, within all of us. We are all ancient creatures and the memories tend to blur, but some, the most painful ones and the most joyous ones, will stay with us until our final deaths. As he allows his gift to lift the sorrow from each of us, though I know he does it at cost to himself, a sense of calm confidence replaces it and it becomes easier to regain our focus. Rubbing my chin thoughtfully…*

There is that. And I think it would be wise to find a way to protect ourselves from the effects of the traps as well. Magick is your area of expertise Bryn, though we all dabble with it. What do you think? Can this be done?

Bryn: Narrowing my eyes as I think. There are options, but what will be powerful enough to combat the traps at the strength I believe I can generate with the help of the power already there? 

“Maybe” I begin thoughtfully… “Protection amulets. Something that lets the power of the trap flow over us, rather than try to repel it, or fight it… No, a bag or a bracelet? Yes, that would do it. I’ll need more than one type of stone and they’ll need to be inscribed with protection sigils or runes…” 

My mind works rapidly as I mentally list what would be needed… 

“Yes. I can do it. But if I need 200+, I’m going to need help. The crystals are just the first step. I’ll need help engraving protection symbols on them. And I’d be damned happier if we could tattoo a few on our people as well. 

Zav: --finally, something I can do besides be a “blood” donor”—

I can take care of both things. I can help with the engraving and I’m good with a needle gun.

-- looking at the raised eyebrows around the table—

What? A guy can’t have hobbies? Sean meditates; Adrian makes weapons; Bryn communes with the moon or something...

– dodges the potted aloe she mentally throws at me but I didn’t need to. It stops in mid-air and gently lowers to the ground—

Sin: *Mockingly chiding, as I mentally catch the plant and set it on the ground,*

Now, now children, Celia would not be happy if the bits of nature she puts around my home were damaged…

*I tilt my head at Bryn as she tries, unsuccessfully, to look repentant and catch her mental hiss as she communicates silently with Zav, declaring she would have nailed him if I hadn’t intervened and quickly put a stop to the repartee I /know/ he will throw back…*

Zav, are you skilled enough to tattoo the symbols clearly? There can be no mistakes if they are to work. Indeed, they could backfire completely if they are not exact.

Zav: --I smirked at Bryn. She’d always been a firebrand. It’d been why I’d proposed her as a recruit to Sin before I’d moved her soul on. She’d tried to spell her way out of being reaped and failing that, she’d tried to skewer me with a Roman spear. That kind of fight you can’t teach. Giving my attention back to Sin at the mention of my name….--

I’m good. You encouraged us to have other things to help us decompress, so in my off time I opened a tat shop in Miami. It’s got a waiting list. Whatever I put on us will be an exact match for what Bryn gives me. But the ink’s going to have to have salt in it for the symbols to last on reaper bodies and that’s going to hurt like a bitch, unless Bryn’s got some magick juju that can make the ink stick without it.

Bryn: Laughing a little at ‘magick juju’, because the Gregori has more magick in him naturally than most people who study an entire lifetime manage to attain…

“Not to keep the skin from rejecting the ink, no. But I can spell the ink to reinforce the symbols so I don’t have to be there to invoke them on each person after the tat’s done.

Sin: You will be there anyway. Not to oversee, or assist, if that is not needed, but you will be near enough to provide aid should an attack come. *Looking around the table, my voice growing low and intent.* From this moment forward, none of you will be without a partner at all times. We are entering very dangerous territory when we leave here and I will risk none of you. 

Sean: Cocking my head at this edict, I gotta ask…

“What about you? You’re the heart of this, Sin. He wants you bad enough to forge an alliance with Lucifer, and declaring open season on reapers includes you. You aren’t invulnerable to this.”

Sin: *A cruel smile grows on my face as my dark eyes grow cold*

The Horseman wants me because he fears me. As he should. And because he fears me he will not make an attempt upon me until he is certain he can win because in his heart he is a coward. When he believes he has the power he will try to trap me. That he has forged this “deal” with Lucifer to allow him to take reapers in return for more souls tells me he is not certain yet. So we will prepare and we will strike first. And no Sean, *sensing his protest and shaking my head* Lucifer will not set his demons upon me. This would not be his first attempt on me and it did not go well for him last time. It was made clear by my allies in the pantheons that they would take it amiss if he were to try again. He is not under their purview, but he has no wish to fight wars on multiple fronts. Yet. I will be quite safe on my own.

Sean: I nod, not quite convinced, but Sin is Sin and I’m not going to argue with him. I’ll just have a private word with those two watchdogs he calls servants.

“So Adrian, if Zav and Bryn are paired, that makes us partners in crime.” Grinning at him. “Mo Chapeton, what’s our assignment?

Sin: I want you two to spend time among the ranks and use Sean’s empathy to feel them out, so we can be sure who will be loyal to us. Tell those that are unable to fight with us there will come a day that you will message them to accept no calls from the Horseman or any being other than one of us. They are to find places to ward and prepare to seclude themselves. I do not want them in the line of fire. For those that will fight, you will arrange times and places to hone their skills as much as can be done in the time we have. Adrian, you are still in charge of preparing the duty rosters? *He nods, watching me intently* Then you can arrange for them to train without it being thought unusual. 

Adrian: I can go one better. I’ll put it out that we’re doing rolling boot camps again because of Bryn’s recent encounter with demons, and I’ll use the same excuse to pair some of those that won’t be in the battle with our weak links so none of them get tempted to try to score points with our internal opposition if they get suspicious of the changes. And if everyone is partnered, our partnering won’t create any gossip.

Sin: *nodding approvingly* A good plan. Once you have that established, the two of you will prepare a place of containment where our “weak links” will all be confined to ride out the battle.

Sean: I raise my eyebrow at this. A ‘place of containment’? He wants us to build a ….

“A reaper prison? You want us to build a reaper prison?”

Sin: *raising my eyebrow back at him, mockingly*

You have sufficient magic to ward a place, do you not? *I almost laugh at the outrage on his face, before taking pity.*

I’m not asking you to create structures. A well-warded cavern would probably be the best, as afterwards they will be dismissed from the reaper corps. *tilting my head at their unspoken questions* If we win, I will own their souls and may dispose of them as I wish. If we lose, they will at least be out of the carnage that I’m sure the Horseman will create among the corps. Which is why I want the rest to have well-warded bolt holes. *grimly* They can’t turn over to Lucifer those they can’t find.

Sean: Huffing a little at the playful jab Sin had taken, but I understand why he did it. He wanted me to remember that I’d brought more than empathy with me. I’d been a druid. The empathy was just a very potent manifestation of my power. But that power could be used in other ways and I’d had the training to be able to do it. I just hadn’t wanted to in a very long time.

“Then I guess we all have our marching orders.”

Sin: Do not go back to your usual places of rest or adhere to any formerly established routines. My safe house in Brazil is protected and has room enough for all of you. We will meet again in four days. I know that is not much time, but we do not /have/ much time. Until then, check in with me mentally every 12 hours. If you miss a check-in, I will assume something has gone amiss. I /will/ find you. That is a promise.

Bryn: Raising my hands over the still hovering image of the Stones of Callanish, I murmur softly

“Leig às Callanish,”

and watch the image of the standing stones shimmer into nothingness. Walking over to Zav, I slap my hand on his shoulder.

“C’mon partner. You need anything from your place? We can go their first, then go to my place to get the tools and materials I’ll need.”

Glancing at Sin questioningly, “I’ll have to rebuild my entire workshop in Brazil. I’ll need it all.”

Sin: *Folding my arms and nodding as I stand* That is not a problem. It is quite large. And if you should need anything do not hesitate to go into the town to search for it. The local populace is already convinced that it belongs to either a drug lord or a bruxa. Between you and Zav, they’ll be sure it’s both. 

Zav: --standing beside Bryn, -- Just a quick detour to my shop in Miami to pick up a few things for the tats. Anything else I need and Sin doesn’t have, I can materialize. Let’s hit it. 

Sean: As I watch Zav and Bryn mist out, I turn to Adrian,

“Well buddy, let’s go find our potential narcs so you can get down to that duty roster.

Adrian:--nodding –

I’m in, but, –looking at Sin— I meant it. Sean as my partner for now is good, but once this all starts, Sean is your wing man. It’s important.

Sin: I understand. *I do not have to like it, but I do understand it. Adrian’s seeing had been quite clear on that point. And because Sean had been correct. When you try to circumvent prophecy, nothing good ever comes from it.*

Fare thee well my friends. Keep to the check-ins and we will meet again in four days’ time.

*After Sean and Adrian have dematerialized I walk to out to the lanai and watch the moonlight glimmer on the waves. I fear that no matter the outcome of this battle my time in my own personal paradise is drawing to an end. After so many years I had found peace here. My thoughts drift back over the years. Certain people and times stand out in my long memory. Bella as a frightened child, and then as a confident young woman, fighting for her powers and finding her true mate, and my friend, Dean. Bast, my longtime companion and goddess whom I had restored to her pantheon. Comforting Danu after the death of her mortal son…. and Freya, severing my link with the Horseman and providing a safe house for me in Valhalla as I regained my purpose. The sons of my human life…Cain who slew his brother, Abel. Seth who rejected us for the twelve tribes’ version of our lives…and Ishtar, my beloved wife Ishtar. The first soul I had reaped, had taken to Elysia. I had looked for her reborn soul for thousands of years before I finally accepted the Fates had taken her from me forever. Would I see her when I, too, answer the Creator’s final call? Or was my eternity with her forfeit because I had sought vengeance for her that final day? And then I realize it is not just my time in paradise that is over. In this moment of clarity I know that my time as a reaper is also coming to an end. What comes next, I do not know. There is only one certainty. Everything dies.

#TBC