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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (Part 19)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, smut

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The punching bag swung wildly at the flurry of punches directed at it. Daphne was grunting as she hammered the shit out of it. She had a lot of things to work through. If there were two things she hated more than anything, it was not being in control and being confused, both of which she was dealing with. She wondered when things got so messy for her. She had friends now and then there was the whole thing with Matt. On top of that, the Italian situation seemed to be ramping up several notches and even her personal cases were linked with it or just ended up crazier than normal. Everything felt like it was spiralling and she hated it.

Her wrapped fists pelted the bag as she worked through all those thoughts. Worked through her talk/argument with Foggy the day before and Karen's words before that. She just needed it all out and sex with Matt, no matter how amazing it had been, wasn't really on the tables anymore. She longed for those days back, as short lived as they were. They didn't like each other but they weren't like this. And sex with him had been the best cure for her messy brain than anything else she’d ever tried.

She punched the bag even harder, channeling all of her negative emotions into it.

"Your form's all sloppy," a voice rang out behind her. She gasped, whipping around to come face to face with Matt. He'd scared the shit out of her creeping up like that.

"What are you doing here?" She asked in her panic, a hand over her rapidly beating heart. He chuckled a little. She noticed he was wearing his gym gear and he had a box in his hands.

"I uh… this was my gym first," he murmured wryly. She nodded stiffly and stepped away from the bag. She felt stupid for even asking him that.

"Right… I'll just… leave," she muttered, moving to grab her backpack from the bench.

"You don't have to leave. I wanted to speak to you," he replied with a hesitant smile. She stood up straighter, not knowing where this was going or how bad it would get.

"I recognise I'm not the easiest person to be around. And I can say I'm sorry but it means nothing if I keep repeating the same mistakes. But I know I went too far… and since my words won't mean much… I got you these," he said carefully. He held out the box he'd been holding and she looked at it curiously for a moment before she took it.

She hesitantly opened it and furrowed her brows. It was a pair of boxing gloves. A deep purple and black with her initials embroidered into them. She didn't really know what to say.

"These are… I… thank you," she mumbled awkwardly. She wasn't used to gifts. She pulled them out, plonking the box on the bench as she turned them over to inspect them. They were really well made and she noted the colour was a close match to her hair.

"I know it's not much and it doesn't make up for me being… well me. But…" he trailed off uncertainly. She really had no clue on how to respond to this kind of thing and she hadn't expected it. It made her chest feel strange.

She blinked up at him and then something dawned on her she'd missed.

"How did you know I'd be here?" She asked, confused. She hadn't told anyone she'd been coming here and he made it seem like he'd come here knowing she'd be there. He let out an uncomfortable chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. She squinted slightly and waited for him to answer.

"I… I know you've been coming here," he replied vaguely.

"How?" She pressed. He shifted on his feet looking awkward and it threw her off.

"I could... smell you… the last few times you've been here. I knew you've been here," he replied softly.

Her eyebrows almost flew off her head at that.

"Smell me? What do you mean you could smell me?" She scoffed, thoroughly offended. He grimaced, another uncomfortable laugh leaving his lips as he looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

"Everyone has their own distinct scent, including you," he explained as his eyes were in her general direction. She blinked for a moment before licking her lower lip. His senses were so weird sometimes.

"What do I smell like?" She asked with a mix of uncertainty and curiosity. She wasn't sure she wanted to know. A brief smile crossed his lips as he cleared his throat.

"Usually lavender and ylang-ylang… mixed with something that's just… you. It's hard to explain, I know it's… weird," he muttered, shaking his head. He looked almost embarrassed and she decided to take pity on him.

"I don't envy you. I can't imagine how bad it is walking the streets with a nose like that," she teased softly. He seemed to relax a little and smiled too.

"It's not great," he chuckled. She was clutching her new gloves to her chest and felt very aware of the delicate situation between them. She hated that it felt so fragile. Like she wasn't sure if she'd say the wrong thing and they'd go back to square one.

"I'll uh… I’ll get out of your hair," he said quietly with a nod, moving to the door. Foggy's words pinged around her brain like a ping pong ball.

"You're gonna give me some awesome new gloves and not even spar with me?" She asked with a playful scoff. He stopped where he was, glancing back at her.

"It is pretty rude of me," he replied with a hesitant smile. He walked back over and started wrapping his own hands as she slipped the gloves on. They fit like a dream and she kept admiring them. She wished she had words to express that she was grateful but it just wouldn't come to her. She just had to hope he already knew.

The whole exchange was stilted. They sparred a little and refreshed what he’d already taught her. But where there was usually biting comments or teasing remarks, it was just instruction and silence. Things were still too fresh to just go back to being semi assholes with each other and it made the whole thing feel off and weird.

She sat on the bench when they were done as she removed her gloves and put them back in the box. Matt took a drink from the fountain before standing back up and glancing her way.

"Karen told me about our new client. I'm pretty sure you single handedly saved our firm," he grinned a little, trying to make conversation.

"Well someone had to. Nelson and Murdock have become quite important around these parts," she replied with a soft snort.

"You didn't have to," he murmured with a shake of his head.

"I know. I wanted to," she said firmly. She stood up and gripped hold of the box. She was half expecting him to argue with her but he didn't.

"I appreciate it. We all do," she could hear the sincerity in his voice and she gave him a little smile.

"Honestly, I was just sick of Foggy bitching about being paid in pies," she snorted as they made their way to the door.

"He did seem more receptive to the peach cobblers," he chuckled, holding her arm just like normal as they stepped outside.

"Speaking of which, shouldn't you be at work right now?" She questioned, glancing up at him. He smiled to himself with a shrug.

"Technically speaking… yes," he smirked. She shook her head with a rueful smile, feeling like it might be possible to save this thing with them.

"You coming out drinking tonight?" She asked. The pair were walking slowly, weaving through the people in the street.

"If I'm not needed somewhere else," she knew that somewhere else entailed him in a mask and suit and she nodded.

"Had any concussions recently?" She teased, earning a snort in response.

"Thankfully no. But don't jinx it," he grinned.

She stopped walking causing him to halt too and he blinked down at her. His eyes seemed brighter in the sunlight and she noted his lack of glasses.

"You're glasses missing?" She teased softly.

"Nah. But someone once told me they liked my eyes so… I figured maybe I'd wear them less," he smirked. She felt her cheeks heat up and she bit her lip. It made her stomach flutter and she had no idea why she was feeling so weird today.

"Well they were right. They seem like a really wise person," she said with a cheeky grin. He laughed, tilting his head a little as he gazed around her face

"Sometimes," he replied slyly. She poked him in the chest and he grunted with a laugh.

"Well as much as I’d love to guide the blind man… wherever the fuck you're going, I have to head home and do laundry," she murmured. He nodded, gripping his cane tightly.

"Sounds like fun," he replied, lips quirked up a little.

"Super fun. I don't know how I'll contain myself," she snorted as she stepped away from him.

"I'll see you tonight if Hell's Kitchen isn't on fire," she smirked. He gave her a nod and she turned around to make her way home.

As much as she hadn't expected to see him, she hadn't wanted to really. But she was glad she did. It was still a little awkward and weird but things seemed to be not so bad anymore. He seemed like he was really trying so she was too. That didn't mean once the delicate state ended they wouldn't go back to snarking at each other and pissing each other off. That was their whole thing. But that was very different to the state of things the last few days.

She spent some time at home, cleaning and doing her laundry and just making sure things were in order. She wasn't dreading that night now things were a little smoothed over with him. She was excited to see Foggy and Karen too. Hopefully her social life would calm the fuck down again so she could just worry about the other bullshit in her life.

Night time rolled around a lot quicker than she expected and she struggled on what to wear. The weather was warmer in the day but at night it got a bit cooler. She settled on her high-waisted skinny jeans with a cropped black sweater that slipped off the shoulder a little. She slipped her phone and money in her pocket and stuffed her boots on, redoing her high pony before she slipped out the door.

It didn't take too long to get to Josie's, she'd only ever been here a few times but she liked how chill it was. It was a bit of a dive which meant not many people went there. When she walked through the door, she noticed Foggy and Karen sat chatting at a table. Matt was noticeably missing and she didn't like the pang in her chest that came with that realisation.

"Daphne!" Foggy beamed, jumping up and squeezing her as she got over to them. She snorted, patting his back before he let go. Karen stood then and gave her a tight hug.

"Wow, you guys are already getting through it, huh?" Daphne smirked as they sat back down.

"Just a little," Karen giggled.

"I guess I need to catch up then," she said slyly. She went to the bar and ordered a bottle of whiskey, because why the hell not, and sat back down with three shot glasses.

"Where's Matt?" Daphne enquired softly, trying to sound nonchalant. Karen smiled behind her hand and glanced to Foggy.

"He had some stuff he needs to do," he gave her a look and she knew where he was. Running around Hell's Kitchen and beating the shit out of people.

"Did you guys fix things?" Karen asked hopefully. Both her and her new boyfriend seemed a little tipsy and Daphne quickly filled up her glass and slammed back the shot.

"Kind of. Mostly. We talked it out and stuff when I saw him at the gym earlier," she said awkwardly. Foggy clicked his fingers and looked like he'd just had a grand epiphany.

"That’s where he was! Doctors appointment, my ass! He never goes to the doctors!" Foggy grouched, acting like he was bothered by the small lie. Karen laughed at him which only served to make him pout.

"Did it go okay?" Karen pressed. Daphne supposed she shouldn't have been surprised they’d want to talk about it. Matt was their best friend.

"Yeah. I think it did. It was a little weird. Kinda stilted, you know? We were being kind of polite and it felt weird. But it just felt too soon to go back to normal. He said he's sorry again though and got me a gift," she murmured, slurping another shot. She was trying to play catch up with them and she wasn't sure how long they'd already been drinking for.

"A gift?! What was it?! Flowers?! Chocolates?!" Foggy was practically bouncing in his seat and Karen shushed him with a giggle as people looked over. Daphne snorted and shook her head.

"Boxing gloves. They were black and purple and had my initials on them," she said with a soft smile.

Karen 'aw'ed at her and Foggy looked perplexed for a moment, the more drunk out of her two friends. He looked like the information was trying to ease its way through the layers of alcohol.

"That's ridiculously sweet, oh my god," Karen gushed. Daphne rolled her eyes and poured them all some shots.

"Boxing gloves? That's… genius! That's like your thing you do with him! That's so more personal than chocolates or flowers!" Foggy smacked himself on the head and Daphne raised her brows amused at him.

"It was sweet but let's not read too much into it," she muttered, pushing the shots towards them. They accepted and all drank them at the same time. Thankfully the conversations steered away from that topic. As much as she was grateful for the gift and for things to start to return to normal she didn't need her drunk friends to start going on about them getting together again.

The night wore on and they all made good conversation. By the end of the night they were all pretty intoxicated. Them more so than her. But she started to feel a little bit like the third wheel. Foggy had tried to say he'd walk her home but she’d waved him away and said she'd get a cab. She didn't want to ruin their moment.

She was swaying on her feet when she got out of the cab and she was sure she gave the driver way too much but she couldn't bring herself to care. She had to lean against the wall as she struggled up the stairs but she pushed through and got there in the end. After fighting with her door for what felt like an eternity, she finally got it open. She grinned at herself for her accomplishment. She was wasted.

She padded further into the apartment, almost falling when she tried to get her boots off, knocking over some things on the kitchen counter nearest the door. She heard a tapping noise and she glanced around, her face scrunched up as she tried to figure out what it was. She heard it again but more firmly and her eyes went to the window. She blinked slowly at the figure on her fire escape.

"Satan?" She whispered, more than confused. After a beat, her face dawned with recognition.

"Ohhh. Oh!" She grinned as she walked over with sloppy steps and pushed the window open. There stood Matt in full Daredevil attire and a vaguely amused look on his face.

"It's you!" She beamed.

"Wow, you're… drunk," he chuckled.

"Maybe. Come in," she snorted as she moved away from the window. She watched him climb inside like a graceful lion and then she went into her kitchen area. She crouched down, rummaging through her cupboards as he stood watching her perplexed.

"Ah-ha!" She grinned triumphantly, standing with a bottle of tequila in her hands.

"What are you doing?" Matt asked patiently, like he was talking to a small child. She waltzed over on unsteady feet and set the bottle on the coffee table.

"I missed you," she pouted. She'd hate herself in the morning but she was too far gone to stop this whole thing. His mouth floundered a moment before he chuckled.

"Really?" He asked skeptically.

"Mhm. I think that…'' she trailed off, closing the gap with them as she reached up and pulled his mask off. His hair was all over the place and she had a dopey smile on her face as she tried to fix it.

"I think you should drink with me so I'm not just a sad lonely drunk," she fluttered her lashes, not that he could see them as she finally released his hair.

"I can't. I have to be out there," he said softly. She frowned and her lower lip jutted out slightly.

"Please?" She whined. He hung his head a little as he pursed his lips.

"I really can't, Daphne. I'm sorry," he said regretfully. Her face fell completely and she glanced to the floor.

"Oh, okay," she didn't mean to sound so pitiful but it happened anyway.

She moved away and heard him go to the window and it closing. She presumed he'd gone again but when she turned around he was still there, tossing his mask onto the coffee table.

"You're staying?!" She asked hopefully.

"I'll stay," he relented with a smile. Maybe he took pity on her. She flung her arms around him with a beaming smile and his hands came around her as he snorted at her over-the-top happiness. His hands settled on her lower back as he just let her hug him.

She moved away and grabbed the bottle thrusting it into his hand.

"You need to catch up 'cause I think I might be drunk," she murmured.

"Really? I couldn't tell," he smirked. She sat sideways on the sofa and watched as he took a really long drink from the tequila with a grimace.

"You take your suit off, get comfy," she said absentmindedly. He quirked a brow in her direction, bottle still in hand.

"I think you're just trying to get me naked," he smirked.

"That would just be a bonus. Besides… your best bits will be covered," she vaguely gestured to his crotch area and he laughed.

"I don't know how I feel about that being my best bits," he murmured as he took a long glug before he set the bottle down and started undoing his suit.

"Okay, so not your best bits. Your face is the best bit, but that's a close second," she grinned cheekily at him. He smiled shyly before shimmying out of the suit. He lay it over the armchair, now only in his black boxers as he walked over and sat beside her on the couch. In her drunk state, she couldn't stop looking at him even if she wanted to.

He picked up the bottle, taking another very large drink and even through her alcohol induced state she knew he’d already rapidly caught up to her.

"You're staring," he murmured, glancing her wry with a smirk.

"Excuse me, sir! It's not my fault that you're so goddamn attractive!" She objected, poking him in the side. He let out an unexpected laugh, leaning away from her touch and amazed grin spread across her lips.

"Oh my god! Is the big bad Daredevil ticklish?!" She laughed, having a hard time containing herself.

"I'm sensitive to touch!" He defended, laughing again when she tickled his side.

"Stop!" He laughed, trying to wriggle away, but she just followed him in her thorough amusement.

He caught her wrists and she squeaked as he gently yanked her closer to him. She blinked up at his beautiful hazel eyes and got lost for a moment.

"It's not fair you're so pretty," she pouted softly. He released her hands, the pair sat close, facing each other.

"You're prettier," he smiled. She snorted and shook her head.

"Nuh uh. You can't even see me!" She giggled and made him chuckle.

"Foggy tells me I have a gift with sensing beautiful women," he smirked.

"What if he's lying?" She countered with a grin.

He reached both his hands up and her eyes fluttered shut as he touched her face. She felt all tingly as his fingers trailed over her face with a featherlight touch. He seemed to touch every inch of her face and when he dropped one hand, the other tucking some stray hairs behind her ear, she smiled up at him.

"Turns out he wasn't lying," he whispered with a sly smirk.

"I'm not convinced," she said softly, closing her eyes again when he leaned closer. His nose trailed along her cheek and she splayed a hand on his chest.

His nose softly led him down to her neck and she took a shaky breath as he left a trail of goosebumps. He started peppering her neck with soft kisses and she felt like she was free falling, her heart hammering away. She could feel his own under her hand on his chest and it seemed to beat in tandem with hers.

He gave her a teasing nip on the sensitive flesh of her neck and she let out a breathy moan. Her head was swimming and she could only think about one thing. She moved away, standing up and he looked taken aback for a second. But she stayed close to where he sat, tilting his head up to her a little. He seemed intently focused on her as she pulled her cropped sweater over her head, tossing it on the sofa. His large hands smoothed up her legs before they reached her button and zipper, deftly undoing them for her. She ran a hand through his hair as he tugged her jeans down her legs, giggling to herself a little as she was unsteady on her feet and it took a little longer than it should.

He stood with a grin on his face as his hands smoothed up her back, unclasping her bra and sliding it off.

"Convinced yet?" He murmured, leaning down and brushing her lips with his. She shook her head with a coy smirk and he chuckled. His lips didn't connect with hers, just floating there and teasing her relentlessly as his hands settled on her hips. She felt him walking her backwards and she had no idea what he was doing until the back of her knees hit her bed. In her drunken state, she ended up falling back on it with a laugh, bringing him down with her. Her legs were dangling off and he was hovering over her with an amused look, arms either side of her to prop himself up so he didn't smush her.

He was gazing down at her and she smiled, sliding a hand down his very toned chest. She rubbed a hand over the bulge in his boxers and he groaned, lowering his head a little. With a smirk, she palmed him a little firmer and he gasped, arching into her hand. She idly wondered why they'd never taken the time to tease each other like this before. She was enjoying herself. He placed a soft kiss to her neck, sliding down slowly and leaving kisses in his wake. She squirmed at the attention and bit down on her lower lip.

He gave her nipple a teasing suck as he continued his descent and she moaned, earning a breathy noise from him in response. He continued to assault her with teasing kisses and nips in a painfully slow pace before he hooked his fingers into her panties and tugged them down. She propped herself up on elbows, watching him carefully as he knelt down and manoeuvred them off her legs and tossed them haphazardly. He glanced to her, as if he could really see her, his hands sliding up the inside of her thighs and parting them.

He replaced his hands with his mouth, leaving open mouth kisses on the inside on her thigh. Her breath was coming in heavy as the anticipation started killing her. His devilish smirk against her skin told her he knew exactly what he was doing. A loud moan left her lips when he finally made contact where she needed it. First it was a teasing lick to her clit and then he started swirling his tongue around it. She lay back down with a dull thud, her hand fisting his hair as she gasped. He moaned against her, going at it more vigorously at her delighted noises.

He used his shoulders to nudge her legs to perch themselves on them moving as close as he could as he switched between sucking on her clit and licking it. She couldn't stop squirming and he hooked his arms around her thighs, locking her in place. She was muttering a slew of curse words, her back arching as she felt the heat creep up her spine. She was in heaven, panting and moaning more with each passing second. Her pleasure was only furthered by the noises he was making, clearly having a good time himself.

One of his arms moved but she couldn't see from where she was laying. But then she felt two fingers inside of her and she gasped, her whole body starting to tremble. He moved his mouth away, his fingers curling up inside of her and the noise she made didn't even feel human to her.

"Cum for me," he bit out, voice raw and demanding. She let out a needy whine at what that did to her. His mouth descended on her again and with his fingers too, she lost it. Her back arched up as her body tensed, a keening moan leaving her lips as she forgot to breathe for a minute. She felt like she saw stars as he carried her through her high.

Once her body relaxed, he moved away and she lay there panting, trying to come back to earth. She sat up a little, hair all over and very pink cheeks. He gave her a cheeky grin and he wiped his mouth.

"Haven't heard those noises before," he smirked at her. She just hummed, still feeling like she wasn't quite back in her body yet.

"Am I dead? I think I'm dead," she murmured softly, a dazed tone to her voice. He chuckled, laying down beside her and tilting her face to his.

"I hope not, because I'm not done with you yet," he purred against her lips. Was he always this fucking hormone inducing or was the booze making it worse? She was putty in his hands and she was helpless to stop it.

She leant over, capturing his lips in a needy kiss that he gladly reciprocated. His hands roamed her body and she moaned softly, still floating from her earlier release. She moved away, getting to her knees and looking down at him.

"I suggest you get comfy," she shot him a lopsided grin and he snorted, obliging her request as he moved to lay with his head on the pillows. She knelt between his legs, dragging his boxers down and letting his impressive erection spring free. His hazel eyes were hovering in her direction and he bit down on his lower lip as she straddled him.

His hands instantly went to her hips, thumbs rubbing circles on them as he smiled up at her. She bent down, nipping at his lip and he gasped, arching up and rubbing himself on her.

"You were a pretty big tease and I think it's time for payback," she smirked against his lips. He let out a dark chuckle, fingers digging into her hips as his lips chased hers, but she denied him. She ground herself against him and he let out a deep groan, arching up at her again. She sat up fully, rubbing her slick heat on his cock as she took his hands and slid them up her body. His eyes darkened, breathing heavier as he caressed her curves and she knelt up slightly, gripping his cock to line him up.

She didn't sink down fully onto him though, barely the tip and he grunted in frustration, pulling her face down to his. She smirked wickedly as he panted against her mouth but everytime he arched up to her she moved away.

"Daphne," he pleaded, his voice a breathy whisper. She watched his face intently before sinking down onto him fully in one swift movement.

"Jesus christ!" He gasped, his back arching up off the bed. She felt pleased with herself at his reaction before she started rolling her hips.

He sat up with lightning speed and gripped her tightly, smashing his lips to hers as he rut up into her desperately. She moaned greedily into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as she let him guide her. The apartment was filled with moans and gasps from the pair as they chased their release. She was sensitive from the first time and she felt it creeping back up on her rapidly. If she wasn't drunk she'd be worried about what her neighbours thought of her high pitched moans as he fucked the life out of her. She broke the kiss from sheer need to breathe, she could barely catch her breath with each thrust and she gripped his shoulders. One of his arms snaked around her lower back for leverage and the other hand gripped her jaw lightly. He rested his forehead on hers and groaned when he felt her start to tighten around him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, like a mantra on repeat as it hit her. Her lips parted in a silent moan, squirming against him as it washed over her. He was moaning loudly against her lips as he thrust up to her a few more times before stilling completely. She sagged against him a little, feeling like her bones had dissolved, and he wrapped his arms around her. His hands smoothed the skin on her back as they caught their breath, her head on his shoulder tiredly.

"Convinced now?" He asked breathlessly. She snorted, nodding against his shoulder and she felt him kiss hers in return.

Reluctantly she moved off him, flopping on the bed next to him. She wriggled around trying to get into the covers that were underneath her and he watched in amusement but gave no help. Once she was in he got under the covers too. He held his arm out, patting his chest with his other hand in silent question. She didn't hesitate to move over, laying on her side with her head on his chest. His arm curled around her protectively and his other hand went into her hair, massaging her scalp and she hummed at the feeling. If she was sober she'd never let this kind of intimacy happen. But she was very drunk and feeling on cloud 9 so that was a problem for future Daphne.

"What do I smell like now?" She mumbled sleepily without thinking. His arms tightened around her as he pressed his lips to her hair.

"Me," he replied, sounding just as tired but more than pleased with himself. She giggled sleepily into his chest and she felt his it vibrating a little. It didn't take long before they both fell asleep in each other's arms.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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arewelonely · 3 years

Text

hogwarts sixth year, slow dramione (I’ll create a title eventually I assume) (edit: the title is wait for me)

cw: brief mention of vomit

part two

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It wasn’t like Granger to ignore him. She was always there, really, auburn eyes too dark and knowing for him, perfume or shampoo wafting in the air after she left class first, voice murmuring to her friends and blending in with the chatter as they all emptied out into the hall. So it was essentially impossible to forget about her, and he was always aware that she noticed him–just the little twitch of her shoulders when he spoke up in class, or when their eyes would meet across the Great Hall, before he tore his own away and forced some deep laugh out of his chest.

But it wasn’t like Draco to care this much, he knew this as well. Days used to feel full and crisp with Quidditch and homework and quick glances that could sort out a friend drama with ease (Crabbe needed to step back, Blaise needed his head screwed on right). His pillow at nighttimes would welcome him and his eyes would shut and he was a student here at Hogwarts just as his parents were and he looked forward to some debauchery planned for the upcoming weekend.

He fell asleep now with his wand in his hand. He would stumble back from the library, the faintest lumos lighting his way back to the common room, staring at the portraits on the walls and wishing he could become one of them. He would shut the curtains of his bed and cast a muffliato in case his breath betrayed him and then he’d clutch his wand and stare into the blackness of the night, waiting for sleep. Or he’d wait for something to crawl out of the darkness. Some fucker coming to set him right just like they had his father.

Each night, he went back to bed later and later. It just wasn’t worth it, laying awake in the darkness. It was much better to sit in this chair that he had claimed as his own, in the corner of the library where nobody ever came. He had his books spread out around him, building a moat where he was the castle.

Draco liked when the library got more empty. There was a specific type of silence that was only present in Hogwarts–fires crackling, students’ chatter ever so faint trickling through the hallways. The books putting themselves back on the shelves.

Draco could concentrate less on his Disillusionment Charms when the library was empty, as well. He could write more freely, feel less guilty about what would happen when he reached the end of this… plot. Mission? Assassination.

Fuck.

His grip on his quill tightened. The ink dripped on the parchment and his toes curled. Fuck.

Draco threw the quill down to the table before he broke it, again, and pushed back the chair so it screeched on the wood floor. His ears flared. Yes, good. Something wrong. Something physically wrong other than the curling serpent on his skin and in his dreams.

He breathed out sharply through his nose and clenched his hands around the arms of the chair, feet flexing and head tilting back.

“Hello?”

He jerked forward and grabbed for his wand, recasting the Disillusionment Charm and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Who’s there?”

It was so quiet in the library that the voice echoed. Draco smothered a sigh.

He did not need this. He needed that cloak his father claimed Potter had, the invisibility one… or was it Voldemort who had mentioned this? It made his stomach turn that he couldn’t remember with whom he had had this conversation. He wished he could vomit to get these worries on the outside of him.

He rolled his eyes so hard they hurt and shook his head to set himself straight. A hand through the hair. Parchment in his bag, hushed spell to return the books to their places. Slowly, silently, getting to his feet.

The voice had sounded familiar, female, steady despite the darkness in the library. Draco had really thought he was the only one here.

He peered around the bookcase that had boxed him into the corner and saw nothing except the rug stretching in front of him and rows upon rows of shelves. He began to inch forward, wondering what was the point of this delicate toe-ball-heel march, but it beat sitting there and beating himself up and it beat going back to his bed and rolling around there.

Oh, Merlin. Draco leaned against the bookcase nearest, praying the dark still covered him. Granger’s curls were lit with the faint flickering from the warm orange fires, her eyes darting in and out of the bookcases. She held her wand in front of her, frowning, standing in front of a desk identical to Draco’s except for its more central location in the library.

Her pile of books rivaled his, of course they did. Draco squinted, but he couldn’t see the titles, just the rolls of parchment with her scrawl all across… arrows connecting ideas and a few things circled with intense marks where Granger had felt particularly strongly. Homework, or something else. Something else, if he knew the Terrible Trio at all.

The stomach twist was back. It was time to go, wouldn’t do very well for Granger to find him because of the sound he would make if he couldn’t hold back his vomit anymore. He briefly considered startling Granger, giving her a small Stun on her heel, perhaps, just to fuck up her night, but Granger had returned to curling up in one of the chairs at the desk. Her chin rested on one of her knees and her arm was wrapped around it, fingers twiddling with the quill. Ah, that’s why she always had ink on her fingertips…

Okay, yes, time to go.

He backed up slowly and walked, toe-to-heel, until he was out of the library.

---

Nott’s elbow nudged into his side, right under his ribs. “Hey, look, someone’s wide awake this morning.”

Draco dropped his spoon into the cereal, gasping as the milk gently splattered. “Fuck, Nott, piss off.”

Theo chuckled and raised his eyebrows. “Nah, look. She’s all hot and bothered for you.”

Draco rubbed his side and groaned, pushing the pain away and following Nott’s chin jut. And there, just a few seats down and opposite from where Draco sat in the Great Hall, was Pansy, smirking when he met her eyes and sliding him a wink before she turned away, earrings twinkling as her hair swished on her back.

He appreciated that about Pansy; she was self-assured enough to not need a response when she flirted. It was enough for her that he saw it, and now that Nott had jolted him awake on this fine morning, Draco could dab the milk off his robes, lower his shoulders, and return to letting his eyes sit at half-mast.

“You gonna ask her?”

He sighed, lowering the napkin. Or, he could converse with his classmates. He allowed himself to reach forward and grab his tea, letting the heat warm his throat, before turning to Crabbe.

“You gonna ask?” Crabbe repeated.

“What?”

Goyle leaned around Crabbe, “Slughorn’s thing.”

Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Slughorn’s party. The Slug Club.”

He snorted. “The Slug Club?”

“Yeah, we got our invitations last night,” Goyle said. “Food, drink, general kiss-assery. Thought you were there when we discussed.”

“Nah, must have been studying,” Draco gulped down the tea. His eyes met Pansy’s again and she quirked up the side of her mouth. He turned back to the boys. “We bring dates to this thing?”

Goyle raised a brow. “I mean, when they present themselves so readily to you…”

Draco let out a chuckle. “Yeah, fair point.” He glanced over to the other tables, smatterings of students clustered, either chatting, reading, or slowly lifting their heads off the table to get some food in the last few minutes before class. “Who’s going to this?”

Crabbe took a bite of his eggs. “All the elites.”

Their eyes met, and Crabbe rolled his. “Us,” he gestured to the table, “and, you know…”

“Potter.”

“Yeah.”

Draco settled his jaw and leaned back in the chair, his space almost instantly invaded by Theo’s elbow on his shoulder. He fought against a flinch and knit his brows together.

“Yes, Nott?”

“Well,” Theo drawled, “I was waiting, but it seems our dear friend Vincent Crabbe left out an important détail.”

Draco snorted when Theo pronounced the word in French. Crabbe slid a glance to Goyle, and the two suddenly seemed antsy.

“The elites now have a crucial caveat to them, eh?”

Crabbe gave a half-hearted shrug. Draco frowned.

“You and I are not invited!” Nott grinned and gave Draco a punch on the shoulder.

Draco hissed again, “oi, geroff me today–” and Theo leaned back in his chair, satisfied with the conversation safely in his control. He continued on with his announcement. “Our fathers are a bit too famous.”

A chill slid up the back of Draco’s neck as the banter halted–yes, his father was too famous. Yes, his house hosted too many well-known people at the moment, yes. This barred him from important events, his father would–

Crabbe lowered his tea to the saucer with a shaky clatter. Goyle cleared his throat. “My father mentioned that this would be a good event to demonstrate our unity.”

The chill had reached Draco’s ears now, and it creeped under his jaw. The words spat themselves out of his mouth–“how can it be unity if we are not all there?”

“Well, Crabbe and I can try–”

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and the chill blocked off all sound. In the past, his father would have cared about this event. But now, the priority was his assignment, right? Draco had a feeling Lucius could have somehow managed both, a thoroughly consequential assignment and still the utmost proper presence at Hogwarts, but, well, Draco received this assignment all because Lucius had not managed everything, or in fact anything, and his throat tensed as his eyesight blurred back into focus.

Goyle bit into a muffin and chewed with his mouth open, eyes lazily hopping from girl to girl at the Slytherin table. “Hey, Zabini, has anyone asked Daphne yet?”

Blaise leaned over from where he had been chatting with the girls and shook his head. “Ask her yourself, bruv. Take a shot.” He lifted his eyes to meet Draco’s and jerked his head towards the door.

Oh, Merlin. Draco’s eyes narrowed in response. But there remained only a few minutes until the first class and he could use an escape of the boys’ endless chatter, so he gave a sharp nod and shuffled his books under his arms as he retreated from the table.

“Oi, Draco, off to class already?”

“No, Crabbe, just need a piss.”

Crabbe nodded solemnly and Draco rolled his eyes and turned back to the doorway and–

And he wondered, not for the first time, if eye contact had a magical element to it. There always seemed to be something deeper, when you looked into another person’s eyes. With his father, of course, there was the deep gut-wrenching sense of family that always accompanied the gaze–there Aunt Bella goes again, would you like a game of chess after dinner? or Draco, this is important, read your books now before bed. Draco found himself avoiding eye contact with his mother in more recent months–her blue eyes seemed to change with the company present, and he couldn’t bear to see yet again how translucent they became in Voldemort’s presence.

Because Voldemort’s eye contact, it was always accompanied by Legilimency. And the Legilimency came often, and fiercely. Draco truly couldn’t understand it, how Voldemort had so much energy for this skill. He knew Bellatrix used it sparingly–he had been on the receiving end of her skill himself a few times when younger, running around the house with his friends, perhaps tumbling over a family heirloom or two, and always knew to make mischief when the hours got late, for she would be more tired and her probing would simply grip him less intensely.

There were others, though, whose eye contact always pulled Draco in by the gut. Not the acute dissection of Legilimency, but something almost magnetic, where Draco wasn’t even aware he was looking at another person until it had already happened and he had torn his eyes away. Accidental eye contacts during long Pureblood dinners with Nott, where the two of them had overheard something ridiculous and were fighting to keep the chuckles inside, or glimpses of Blaise’s face when the Slytherin common room grew too obnoxiously rowdy and they both knew the time had arrived to retreat to the corner, cast a Quietening Charm, and play several rounds of Wizard’s Chess.

The Hall was crowded, which made this particular eye contact even more unlikely. Draco was truly just following Blaise, eyes lifting to the ceiling to try and let the candles burn some light into them–he was too accustomed to the night, and his eyes felt dry around the edges.

They felt dry all over, in fact, and he was just returning his gaze to the Hall’s exit, which was why Draco was surprised they focused so quickly, but how could they not, when Granger’s dark eyes were suddenly there, across the room, and they pierced into the back of his skull.

He felt her gaze in his throat and clenched his books tighter.

Jerked his chin up and flared his nostrils, exhaling sharply. Sneered out of the corner of his mouth.

He didn’t wait for her to turn back to her breakfast, which was just as well because Blaise’s eyes required quite a bit more thought at the moment. They filled with concern. Draco swallowed and blinked as the annoyance bubbled up.

“Just wanted to check in.” Blaise spoke lowly but his voice still echoed around the old school hallways.

Draco shifted his stance and intensified his snarl. Every single one of the boys this morning. “About what, Zabini?”

Blaise raised his eyebrows. “I know our situations are different–”

“Yes, Blaise, they are.” Draco scoffed. What did Blaise expect him to say? “You were–where were you this summer? Paris? Vienna?”

Blaise broke their eye contact. “Moscow.”

He actually let out a full laugh at that one and settled his shoulders when Blaise stepped back. “Alright, lad, Moscow. You visited Moscow, and I…” Draco raised his eyebrows and fixed Blaise with a look. Zabini was not stupid enough to expect him to blurt it all out in the halls, was he? Draco huffed out of his chest again and continued on. “I hope you had a grand visit, now, eh? And–” the words required effort to speak but they were necessary, weren’t they? “–do enjoy your time at the Slug Club. I must attend to more important matters, now.”

He wanted to drop all his books to the ground and duel Blaise right here. The bastard, thinking he could butt in and… and what, empathize with Draco?

A vein in his neck throbbed as he controlled his walk away from Blaise. An explosive situation would not help right now. Draco pushed down the frustration that had taken over the chill. He listened to the sound of his steps clipping in the hallway. Lucius wouldn’t create an explosion. Cool, chilled interactions. Draco twitched his mouth and headed to his first class. Yes, he could do that.

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years

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The Bluest Blue (a Dean/Cas hexed!Dean, TLK fic, 3.3k)

(Link to Ao3)

After Michael was defeated, Dean took a temporary hiatus. He wanted to get back in the game, and a case involving a mischief-making witch seemed like the easiest way to dip his toes back into the hunting pool. Unfortunately, he was hit with a spell that'll have him facing something even worse than ancient entities or evil archangels.

His own feelings.

And he has no one to blame but his own body - his own eyes.

Castiel parked next to Dean’s Baby, turning the car off just as the song on the radio entered its final chorus. Jack crowed from beside him, glaring at the radio. “It was almost over.”

“That was the third time we’ve heard that song today.”

“I like it.”

“It’ll be on again,” Castiel said, exiting the truck, “Come on, Sam and Dean need us.” He didn’t waste any time, striding across the motel parking lot over towards the room Sam texted him. In the frantic phone call, the younger Winchester left that tidbit of information out. Sam was more preoccupied with helping Dean into the car after an unfortunate run-in with a witch.

They were on a routine hunt; some small town trouble that Dean figured would be a simple job. He convinced everyone it was easy enough that they wouldn’t have to worry. Some slight mischief, where two hunters could step in and sort it out. Ever since they booted Michael from Dean’s head, he was coerced into a temporary retirement until he recovered. The witch-hunt was supposed to prove he could go back into the field on a regular basis. Getting blasted by an unknown spell did not help in any way.

Castiel rapped on the door, Jack jogging up behind him. By the time he made it there, Sam opened the door. Looking between them, he sighed out a breath of relief. “You made it.”

“Of course,” he said, stepping past Sam and into the room, “Dean is he -?”

Dean was upright and moving. When he entered the room, Dean scrambled and ducked his head away from him. Squinting, Castiel trod more cautiously towards his friend. “Dean?”

“Hey, Cas!” Dean laughed, still not looking at him. Castiel watched him grope the bed he was sitting on for a discarded pair of sunglasses, slipping them on. Once they were settled, he turned over to him. “You, uh – you got here pretty quickly?”

He shrugged. “You were in trouble.”

The flush on Dean’s cheeks burned even deeper. Castiel spun towards Sam, who was still behind him watching them curiously. “He seems to be fine?”

“I mean, the worst of it was the fainting –“

“I passed out.”

“Fainting,” Sam stressed, walking over towards the small table by the television set where a few books lay scattered and open. “Honestly, I might have… overreacted when I called you-”

Dean snorted, leaning back casually on the bed, sunglasses still on. “Nurse Ratchet barely let me do anything when I came to. His worried hen routine had me convinced he wouldn’t even let me go to the bathroom on my own.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“It took almost a half hour of yelling before you’d let me out to the bar!”

“I was only looking out for you!”

“You were driving me crazy!” Dean growled, “Besides if you had kept me locked up we might never have discovered what that witch did to me.”

Castiel, too exasperated to let the brothers carry on arguing, interrupted then. “What did she do?”

He drew their attention back to him. Where Sam’s fight drained out of him the second he refocused on Castiel, Dean’s tension rose like his taut shoulders and pinched brows.

“It’s a kind of glamour spell,” Sam explained, bringing the book over to him. “The spells in her books were all pretty basic, I don’t think she knew what she was casting either.”

Dean grumbled, picking at his cuticles. “Lucky I didn’t end up with a tail or bad gas then…”

“You still haven’t told me what happened,” Castiel asked him, softly. Dean didn’t respond, too busy with his hands. He tried again, adding, “Does this have anything to do with your sunglasses?”

Dean cursed, pulling at the skin too hard. He shoved his thumb into his mouth, sucking back the blood.

While he was distracted, Sam answered for him. “When we went to the bar, everything was fine. But then Dean caught sight of our bartender…” He related the story to him and Jack. About how the first thing their server, a woman named Brandi, remarked on was Dean’s unnatural eye color. “She thought he was wearing contacts,” Sam said, fighting back a smile, “Because no one is supposed to have pink eyes.”

“Pink?” Castiel repeated, glancing at Dean. His friend didn’t comment, instead making himself to look as small as possible; a hard task to accomplish given his grand stature.

“Yeah,” Sam carried on, “I dragged him into the bathroom to even make sure – you know, away from all the low lighting and light smoke. His eyes were like Liz Taylor’s –“

“Liz Taylor had purple eyes,” Dean finally spoke, “If you’re gonna make a comparison at least make it right.”

“Well, sorry but no actual person ever had pink eyes! Would you have preferred it if I said Barbie?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “…Still didn’t have pink eyes.”

“Anyway,” Sam sighed, “We drove back to the witch’s hideout to see if there was anything she left behind. Lucky for us we scared her good, and all the memorabilia she collected was right there like when we left.”

“Not even all of it was witchy! She had a Willow action figure from Buffy…”

“We gathered up all the books and brought them back, and then called Rowena –“

“Rowena, yes,” Castiel said, latching onto that thread. “Did she provide any insight or – or is she coming?”

“She told us what kind of spell Dean got hit with,” Sam told them, scratching at his neck, “But there was nothing else she could do. Actually, she said that it might help if you showed up.”

Dean muttered to himself, drawing further inwards.

Castiel ignored him, instead pondering over Sam’s words. “Me?” he asked, “I’m not… what did she think I could do?”

Sam shrugged. “She didn’t expand on it, although I’m pretty sure she was laughing.”

“That does sound like Rowena…” Jack said, nodding.

“I… I don’t know how I can be of much help,” Castiel admitted, “Was there anything in the books –“

“Nothing.”

Castiel turned to Dean, then. As if noticing the angel’s focus, Dean looked up and met his stare. His breath hitched, but he couldn’t tell much else from the sunglasses his friend kept on. “Dean,” Castiel said, voice low, “Why did your eyes turn pink?”

He remained silent. Dean broke their connection and directed his shielded eyes elsewhere. Luckily Sam, nearby, was more forthcoming with the information.

“It was an attraction spell,” Sam said, “So whenever he sees a girl he likes his eyes go all pink. Which, nice to know you’re still crushing on Daphne, Dean.”

Dean offered a pitiful laugh and a weak ‘shut up’.

Castiel frowned, unsure as to why Dean would hide his eyes away from him over something like that. His attraction to women was apparent even without the change in color, and while it may have bothered him in the past, Castiel has had time to learn and live with it.

He knelt down in front of Dean, laying a hand over his knee to grab his attention. Dean stiffened, but did not pull away. “Dean,” Castiel spoke softly, like to an injured fawn, “Dean, I promise I’m not going to laugh… I’m here to help.”

He shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the idea. “Cas,” he whined, “It’s not – you don’t have to –“

“Please, Dean,” Castiel urged him, “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course,” he told him, without any doubt nor time wasted, “But this is –“

“This won’t change my opinion of you, Dean, I promise.” Still seeming unsure, Castiel dipped forward. On his toes, he squeezed Dean’s knee tight as if to will every ounce of comfort into his friend’s body. “Please, remove your sunglasses.”

Dropping his gaze for the briefest of seconds to look between Sam and Jack, Dean returned with a melancholy air about him. As if he were on his way to the guillotine, accepting a horrible fate even though Castiel assured him there was none waiting for him. Steeling himself, Dean slowly pulled the sunglasses off. Then, he blinked his eyes open.

Castiel dropped backwards, breath stolen from him. He expected rings of pink, but instead was gazing into a glowing pool of bright blue. Dean’s eyes burned brighter the longer they were exposed.

“Blue?” Sam asked, peering closer. He stepped up behind Castiel and bent down. “What the hell? Why are your eyes blue?” Jack joined them as well, using Castiel’s other side to investigate as well.

All the sudden attention on Dean made him cherry cheeked. He snarled, forcing them all away as he shoved his sunglasses back on. The light dimmed. “Blue – pink – who the hell cares? Cas can you do your two-fingered grace thing and fix me?”

“I wasn’t,” Castiel stuttered over himself, “I don’t… I don’t think my grace can fix this.”

“Then how were you going to help?”

“I… admit I did not know –“

“What?”

“But I thought maybe if I saw for myself what was happening, then the answer would strike me,” Castiel explained, “I did not foresee this happening.”

“So my eyes are a freakin’ mood ring,” Dean cried, “Great…”

“Then Dean is upset?” Jack asked, “From what I know about mood rings, blue is the color of sadness.”

Sam shook his head. “No, Rowena explicitly said it was an attraction spell. I read her the spell verbatim – well, I broke it up so I didn’t accidentally cast it myself…”

“Attraction…” Jack tapped at his chin, thinking. Snapping his fingers, he drew all the attention to him. “I think I get it!”

Dean, quickly transitioning from red to white, gaped at him as his freckles stood out against his pale skin. “No, Jack –“

“If Dean was attracted to a woman, then his eyes turned pink,” Jack explained, “So therefore, when Dean must have seen a man he was attracted to – his eyes would have turned blue!”

Castiel existed long before the universe was born, and even the silence before the Big Bang did not seem to be this long and uncomfortable. Dean dropped his head into his hands, unable to keep it up. Castiel sat, stunned. He dared not look at his friend, sure that even a glance of Dean would make him spontaneously combust.

It was Sam who broke the calm that swept over them. At first Castiel couldn’t understand what he was hearing, but as the sound grew in sound and energy, he realized it was laughter.

“Oh man,” Sam chuckled, “I thought – I thought it was something more serious. But this explains it! Why you wanted me to call Cas and tell him to turn back even after Rowena – and Rowena! Oh – oh! And how you couldn’t even look me in the eye after I turned on a Dr. Sexy rerun.”

“I’m glad you find it funny, Sam,” Dean growled, standing up, “So happy I could amuse you. Now if y’all don’t mind, I’m going to go drown myself in the toilet.” He stomped over to the bathroom, slamming it shut behind him.

Castiel turned to the younger Winchester. “Sam –“

“Oh, relax,” he said, “He’s not even going near that thing. The day we got here he took one look and has been using the rest room at the McDonald’s two blocks down.”

That didn’t make Castiel feel any better. He stared at the door, wishing that Dean would come back into the room with them. But that was as unlikely as Castiel moving to join him, his rear glued to the floor.

Sam kicked him, drawing his attention away from the door. “Well? Aren’t you gonna go to him?”

“I… I don’t –“

He rolled his eyes. “Please, I think it was very obvious who made his eyes go blue.” Sam returned to the table, sitting. “So obvious I’m kinda mad I didn’t put the two together. But I was distracted…”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Dean finds you attractive… I know you think the same,” Sam listed off. Castiel spluttered, blushing. He waved him off. “Please, after the first few years you can’t write that staring thing you do off as ignorance.”

“Still,” Castiel muttered, “I doubt Dean wants to see me. He made it very clear with how unwilling he was to show his eyes to me.”

Sam sighed. “Dean… he was embarrassed. He gets defensive, but he’s still a total pushover. I’m sure he didn’t even lock the door.”

Castiel looked at the door one final time before making a decision. He tore himself off the ground and carefully marched over to the bathroom door. Hand raised as if to knock, Castiel thought better and reached for the knob instead. Like Sam said, it was unlocked. He chanced a glance backward at Sam and Jack, both shooting him encouraging thumbs up, before entering the bathroom.

Dean leaned against the sink, watching him in the reflection. The toilet remained shut. Castiel closed the door behind him, taking the space behind Dean nearer the shower.

His head drooped, and he took a deep breath before addressing Castiel. “There’s nothing I can say that can make this anything but what it is, right?”

“You can try?” Castiel started, attempting humor, “It might not work, but…”

“Look, if this is awkward…”

“It’s not!” he said, loudly, startling them both. “I mean,” he continued, “it’s… it’s not awkward.” Unsure if he wanted to strike at the heart of the issue, Castiel heads down another path first. “I do admit I was surprised… as an angel I never really considered things like gender.”

Dean scoffed. “You telling me you don’t think of yourself a guy?”

“I’m an angel… although, if I had to choose, then… yes. I would identify as a man.”

“Good, because blue eyes are bad enough,” Dean said, looking back up at his reflection. “I don’t wanna know what color they’d shine if you decided to not subscribe to the binary.”

“You think blue eyes are bad?” Castiel asked, closing the short distance between them, hitting up against Dean’s back. His hand stretched forward, tapping at the mirror where Dean’s eyes were shown. “What’s so wrong with blue eyes?”

Dean licked his lips, darting his gaze over to Castiel’s face before returning to his own. “They’re – uh… they’re not so bad,” he admitted, “But not on me. I can’t pull them off like, uh… well –“ He nodded to him, unable to tell Castiel what they already knew.

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, “My vessel is attractive.” He sighed, stepping back, “I understand why your eyes would change color because of my body –“

“Shit Cas,” Dean cried, throwing a hand over his eyes. Even with the poor coverage, blue light shined between the cracks landing every which way in the room. “You can’t be all self-deprecating and whatnot, do you not know how much more adorable that makes you?”

Castiel skewed his head to the side. “It does?”

“Yes, Cas… Christ.” Dean rounded towards him, still covering his eyes. “Yeah, your body is hot. Your body, not a vessel. But… it’s not all that’s making my eyes light up.” He leaned back against the sink, sighing. “Rowena texted me after Sam’s call, filling me in on what she didn’t tell Sam. Warning me that the – the more attractive I found someone the brighter my eyes would glow.”

“Oh,” Castiel squeaked out, glad that Dean blinded himself so as not to see the fierce blush that dusted around his jaw. “Then, the sunglasses…”

“Was so I didn’t look like the damned Bat-Signal in our cramped and crummy motel room!” Dean used his other free hand to run through his hair, “Don’t you know what you do to me, Cas?”

“I… apparently didn’t,” Castiel confessed, “I also didn’t hope that you’d feel the same.”

Dean’s breath hitches. “The… the same?”

“Dean,” Castiel said, smiling, “It seems we were both in the dark about our feelings towards each other…” He moved into his space once more. “I felt like the moon, at times, always circling your orbit but never able to touch. The time we spent together without any interruption like a full moon on a clear night. And being driven apart days at a time left me feeling like a sliver barely lighting up the sky.”

“You… you really mean that, Cas?”

“I do…” He lifted a hand to touch the one covering Dean’s face, “Come now, Dean. Let me see.”

“But I… it’s got to be so bright now,” Dean whispered, “I’ll blind you.”

“The benefits of being an angel,” Castiel smirked, flicking the lights off, “Is that my senses can handle more than any humans could.” With the cover of darkness, Dean allowed Castiel to drag his hand away. Dean’s eyes were the only source of light in the room, the blue shining brighter than even an angel’s grace.

Castiel was entranced by the rich shades of blue, as if Dean’s attraction was a waterfall cascading over him. There were so many different colors bouncing out from Dean’s eyes, he could barely keep up with them. Instead, he let the warmth of Dean’s affection wash over him as he slowly entwined their fingers together.

Then, as if pulled in by the tide of Dean’s ocean-like eyes, Castiel drew closer towards him. His lips sought out Dean’s, neither able to look away as their mouths met. It was a brief touch, a slight dusting. Once both stayed put, they pressed their lips together again and kissed fully. Castiel snaked his other hand around Dean’s waist to clutch at his back. Dean threaded both of his hands through Castiel’s hair, tugging at it. The light was cut off as Dean closed his eyes. It was of no matter to Castiel, who shut his own seconds later.

After a good while, Dean pulled back gasping for breath. They blinked their eyes open, still stuck in the dark. Dean groped around in the darkness, searching for the light switch. Once he turned it on, Castiel smiled.

Dean’s eyes were green again.

“What?” he asked, “Is there something on my face?”

Too joyful to speak, Castiel whirled Dean around to face the mirror again. He then crowded around him once more, encircling his waist with his arms and laying his chin against his shoulder.

Dean stared at his reflection, fingers hovering below his eyes. “They… they’re back.”

Castiel smothered a laugh into Dean’s shoulder. “I guess Rowena was right,” he said, “I was the key to fixing all this.”

“Which means more people knew besides us,” Dean muttered, smiling as wide as Castiel, “We’re a couple of dumbasses aren’t we?”

“At least we’re a couple,” Castiel told him. “We are a couple, yes?”

“Buddy, I don’t think anyone else could make my eyes glow like that.”

Castiel hummed, knocking his head against Dean’s. “I’m glad they stopped. Although I will admit your eyes under this spell were the second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Snorting, Dean craned his neck back so as to look at him directly. “Really?” he asked, “Only the second most beautiful? What could have topped that lightshow?”

“Your eyes as they are now.” Then, Castiel proceeded to drop two quick kisses onto Dean’s drooping eyelids, delighting in the brilliant shade of pink that crawled across his face. “I must say that I always did prefer green over blue…”

“…You’re so lucky I’m not spelled anymore Cas,” Dean chuckled, “This close, I’m sure I could have blinded you.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, pulling away. He reached for Dean’s hand yet again, snaking his fingers over his. “Come, we might as well show the others you’re fixed.”

Dean put up a faux fight, letting Castiel drag him into the next room. Sam and Jack were waiting, each with knowing smiles on their faces. While he could sense Dean’s discomfort, he stayed by Castiel’s side all through the night. Even through the gauntlet of Sam’s teasing.

All he needed was to catch sight of Castiel’s blue eyes, and he knew everything was okay.

#Supernatural #Spn #Dean Winchester #Castiel #destiel #deancas #Supernatural fanfiction #Spn fanfic #Destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic

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mister-lucky-bunny · 5 years

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Scooby Doo: Monster Menagerie Chpt. 4

Description: Mystery Incorporated heads to Grimwood's to meet the students.

Scooby Doo: Monster Menagerie

Chapter 4: Back to School

A few patrons of the small restaurant looked in the direction of a certain group of friends, who happened to be enjoying a story between the five of them (well, six, if you counted the great dane). Some looked amused, a few looked rather annoyed, as at random intervals, they would often break off into fits of laughter, sudden breaths of gasping, and even a bit of groaning.

Googie would be the one retelling most of the story, although Shaggy and occasionally Scooby would interject to fill in any blanks that she would have missed. For the most part, the other three members of Mystery Incorporated would be very interested in the story, albeit for slightly different reasons.

Freddie was greatly invested in the amount of action that Shaggy, Scooby, Scrappy, and Googie had to go through. It would have made a great story in and of itself, but with the fact that monsters were thrown in almost made it hard to believe! He didn't seem to take that into account, though, rather focusing on everything else.

Velma, however, focused more on the fact that none of them seemed to be quite nonchalant about the whole ordeal. Sure, sometimes they'd react with a grimace at the mention of two certain hunchbacks, or even slightly angry about the fact that Dracula had no intent on keeping his end of the bargain. That didn't seem to surprise the curious girl, though. The King of Vampires was known to be regal and a bit uptight. His reputation to be a deadly creature of the night was something he felt like he needed to uphold, and if he had to do so by lying and cheating, so be it. Still though, why he would do so for a ridiculous road race was beyond her.

As for Daphne, she didn't seem to carry any disbelief for the very outlandish story. For a little while, she didn't know why. Shaggy as a werewolf driving in a monster car with other monsters? It was definitely not something she should have blindly believed as she listened to the story unravel. Strangely enough, though, she did. It wasn't until around halfway through the story did she even realize why. It would also unknowingly give her an explanation as to why Shaggy didn't seem comfortable talking about that school he used to teach at.

At one point, she and Shaggy, along with Scooby, Scrappy, and a boy who passed himself off as a con-artist, managed to track down and recapture a bunch of evil spirits (after accidentally setting them free, that is). At the time, the whole prospect of it was quite terrifying, but they all made it through to the end. It was certainly an adventure that they would never forget.

And yet, neither one of them seemed to bring it up again afterwards. Why though? Was it the feeling that the others wouldn't believe them? Perhaps they both felt guilty about having not included them? Guilt over whether or not they'd be worried for their own safety when they, at the time, almost carelessly disregarded it? Strangely enough, even as she thought about it now, the only part about that whole adventure that scared her was how she had decided to style her hair back then. Just thinking about it made her wince a little.

Eventually, the story of the werewolf Shaggy, Dracula, and a monster road race would end, leaving most of the others in almost stunned silence. "In the end, it's strange to think back on that whole event. If anything, all of those monsters turned out to be kinda... well, dumb," Googie concluded, smiling a bit as she held in a laugh. Scooby wasn't as thoughtful, snickering to himself.

"Ryeah! Real dumb ronsters!"

Shaggy was grinning as well, although he was meekly slurping from a milkshake, not wanting to bring too much attention to himself.

Freddie was the first to speak, grinning widely at Shaggy, heavily impressed. "Wow, Shag, I guess you weren't lying about being a race car driver after all," He began. "Not only that, but you had to do it with a bunch of monsters!"

"As a werewolf too," Velma cut in, smiling, although looking down in thought. "Never knew someone could turn into one without being bitten..."

"Like, neither did I, really!" Shaggy said in between sips of his shake. "I guess, like, even on my own time, I can't help but get into monster related trouble," He said with a small laugh.

"...is that why you two broke up?" Daphne suddenly asked. It must have been the reporter in her to make her ask such a thing, but it still got some reactions. Shaggy immediately snorted milkshake in shock, making a lot of it shoot up into his face. Scooby was there to lick it off of his face, though once his vision was cleared, he gave a shocked 'Why would you ask that?!' face to Daphne. Freddie and Velma turned to her, slightly confused, eyebrows perked up. Googie also seemed quite surprised, eyes wide as she thought about what the red head had just asked.

"Oh..! Well uh, that's quite sudden..." Googie replied, blushing and looking away awkwardly. "Let me put it to you this way... you're kinda right." When it was apparent that Shaggy didn't seem to have any sort of input other than trying to bury his face into his glass once again, his ex-girlfriend continued on. "Like I mentioned earlier, he's told me about you guys, as well as the types of 'mysteries' you all get into. While they don't sound dangerous, other than a bunch of weirdos dressing up, it just... wasn't the kind of thing for me."

Googie looked down, almost looking guilty. "...he even offered me to have me tag along. But with everything that had just happened, I was shocked and angry. I couldn't understand why he wanted to go through all this again. I know I certainly wouldn't! So I... broke it off." She finished simply, rubbing her arm, avoiding everyone's gaze.

After a few minutes, Shaggy spoke up, having gotten the nerve to find his voice. "Hey, Googie, c'mon. Like, I don't blame ya." She turned her head to him and tilted it, wondering what he meant. "Like, It was a lot to go through, and asking such a question was a bit in... poor taste, I guess." He chuckled a little. "I mean, if I was in your position, I would've broken up with me too." He said, smiling gently. "So, like, don't go beating yourself over it. It's in the past, and we can move on, right?"

Googie returned the smile, her eyes looking somewhat embarrassed. "Yeah, we can."

Everyone else at the table watched the two make up, staying quiet and enjoying it. Even Scoob was touched by it, letting out a little "R'aww..." Good old Shaggy Rogers. Never one to hold a grudge for too long, and always looking to forgive. The moment didn't last too long, because soon, Shaggy turned to get another bit of shake, only to find Scoob slurping the rest of it, leaving an empty glass.

"Hey..!" He said, glaring at his dog, who began to giggle apologetically. Everyone else was amused by this, as they started laughing a long.

"Hm, guess some things never change, huh?" Googie mused.

"Seems like it," Velma agreed, nodding as she began to stand up. "By the way, we should probably head out to that school if we wanna get there before it gets too dark." The gang looked out the window, realizing they had spent a good portion of their day listening and talking in the cafe. The sky was a faint orange color as the sun began to set over the small town.

"Woah! Guess we kinda lost track of time," Daphne said, beginning to get up as well, everyone joining in.

"Right! Shag, you still remember where it is, right?" Fred asked his friend.

"Like, of course! Shouldn't take too long. We may even make it just in time for dinner!" Shaggy added, making Scooby nod.

"Ooh a school?" Googie said, looking between everyone. "I didn't know you taught, Shaggy. Okay if I tag along? Y'know, for old times' sake?" She continued, smiling shyly and looking down. The foodie and his dog froze in place, looking between each other for a bit.

"Hey, yeah! Come along with us, it should be fun!" Freddie answered, looking to his frozen friend. "You don't care, do you?"

"Uh..." The thoughts of Googie running away from the school after having met the monster students soon came to mind. His nerves got the best of him, as he quickly answered in a voice that was slightly higher pitched than usual. "Like, sure! Why not?"

Scooby merely shook his head and mumbled to himself. "Ruh roh..."

None of the others seemed to notice this as they began to head into the Mystery Machine. "Great! You can sit in the back with Shaggy and Scooby," Fred said, getting into the driver's seat. Soon, everyone got in their usual spots, Googie looking around some.

"So this is the infamous Mystery Machine..." She thought aloud.

"Like, what do you think?" Shaggy asked, leaning back in his seat some.

"Not bad! Pretty small, though, don't you think?"

"It does the job," Daphne continued, looking back at Googie.

"Hey, Shag, where do I head from here?" Freddie asked, starting the van up.

"Oh, like, head on down this road until you reach see a small soft-shouldered road to the right. You're gonna, like, head on down there through the woods," He answered, leaning over to point out the directions.

With a nod, he began to turn the wheel and they were off.

Out of curiosity, Googie asked, "So, now that I've told my story, what about you guys? Got any good adventures to retell while we wait?"

The sun began to set semi-quickly as the van rolled through the woods. Laughter filled the Mystery Machine as they all began to retell some of their favorite past adventures. Naturally, many of their stories ending as they usually did, with someone getting their disguise pulled off. It never seemed to get old, at least not to them.

As Freddie continued to drive further and further into the woods, the clouds above would seem to get heavier and darker. A rumble of thunder seemed to get everyone quiet for a little. "Hey gang, might run into a bit of rain."

"Like, turn your brights on, then. Last time I had to drive out here, it was raining. Almost got lost!" Shaggy advised. The blond nodded and quickly did so. In that moment, he seemed to almost drive directly into the storm. A wall of rain begin to hit against the windshield, and it was coming down hard.

None of the others could hear their own thoughts as rain pounded against the van, Freddie making sure to turn the wipers on high so that he wouldn't lose track of the road. "Hey Shaggy, how long until we get there?"

"Uh, like, not sure..." He said, rubbing his head.

"Wait, I see a sign up ahead!" Daphne pointed out. A couple of seconds passed as Freddie got closer to it, letting his lights hit the sign.

"Calloway Military School for Boys," Freddie read aloud. "Definitely not the place..." He said, a little disappointed. He had to speak a little louder, as the rain didn't seem to ease up any.

"Wait, we can't be too far away," Velma interject, also having to speak up. "The detective did say there were two schools out this way, right?"

"Like, yeah, I remember having to pass Calloway's. We're getting closer, Freddie, just keep going!" Shaggy continued. This seemed to spark a small surge of enthusiasm back into the blond, as he backed up a little and continued on down the old road. At this point, even though they could barely see anything else, they all began to get a bad feeling. Despite it being so dark, the overall feeling of dread seemed to fill everyone's mind. It was almost palpable.

"Hey, Shaggy..? Was it this... spooky when you drove here?" Googie asked somewhat nervously.

He nodded, but also seemed to be shaking a bit, Scooby holding onto him in a cowardly way. "Yeah, b-but that doesn't make it any less freaky!"

"Ruh huh!" Scooby agreed.

"Hey wait, I see... a gate!" Freddie laughed. "Finally, we made it!" Sure enough, the Mystery Machine made it to the metal gate, two gargoyles perched on either side. On the stone fence was a wooden sign, which Freddie shined his light on.

"Miss Grimwood's Finishing School for... Ghouls?" He read, sounding confused. "Huh, guess one of the boys back at the military school must've done a bit of graffiti."

Shaggy and Scooby shared a look with each other, nodding somewhat sheepishly. "Like, yeah, probably..."

"I'm just wondering why the police seemed to intent on keeping this place secret..." Velma started, as she looked to the sign. "However, I think our bigger problem is the fact that there's no one out here and the gate is-" In that moment, the gate slowly swung open, wide enough to let the van through. "...closed?" She finished, everyone starting to feel on edge as they looked at each other in an uneasy manner.

"...are you sure this is normal?" Daphne asked aloud.

This question was met with a gulp from Shaggy. "Like, I hope..."

The gang was met with the image of a giant mansion, which began to grow closer and closer to them. Freddie soon began to slow the van to a halt, analyzing the area the best he could. It wasn't that easy to do in all the rain, even with the wipers at maximum speed. There was one easily noticeable thing that he felt like needed to be pointed out. "Hey gang, there's a moat here."

"So I guess this is as far as we go?" Googie asked, looking both a bit scared and confused. She wasn't the only one, as the others seemed to be nervous too.

"Like, don't worry guys, the drawbridge should come down any second," Shaggy stated, rather calmly. Almost on cue, the crank of an old wooden handle and the clinking of chains was audible, even through the pelting rain. The giant drawbridge opened up, revealing a rather warm looking light coming from inside the massive mansion. "Like, we have to walk from here. I don't think Miss Grimwood would appreciate us driving into her school." He chuckled before stepping out with Scooby. The gang was even more confused at this point. Why did Shaggy seem so... calm about this whole thing?

With a shrug, Velma unbuckled and opened her door. "Well... I guess we follow him," She stated simply. The other three gave a nod and left the van as well. They hurried along the drawbridge, wanting to get out of the rain as soon as possible. The wood creaked gently as they stumbled along a bit. At one point, Googie let out a shriek and seemed to jump, hurrying inside.

"G-guys..?! I think I saw something move in the moat..!"

Shaggy merely waved his hand casually, shaking himself off from the rain, Scooby doing the same. "Like, don't worry about him, he's harmless."

Freddie and Daphne looked around the room they were in. It looked quite old and dusty, as if it hadn't been cleaned in a long time. Cobwebs hung from everywhere, candles being used to light up rooms. Old bookshelves, dusty looking couches and chairs. Everything looked very antique, as if they were hired to upkeep the mansion and weren't doing a very good job of it. It was hard to believe that this building was the school in which Shaggy used to teach in.

Velma dried her glasses off with her sweater, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Him? Harmless? Shaggy, is there something you're not telling us?"

Shaggy chuckled sheepishly, looking a bit bashful. "Like, don't worry, you'll know soon enough."

"Maybe sooner than you think," Came a new voice. This got everyone's attention as they watched a stout woman with black hair and a pink dress walk in.

"Like, hey again Miss Grimwood," Shaggy greeted, Scooby giving a wave.

"Riya!"

"Hello again, Coach Rogers. Scooby."

While the woman was clearly quite friendly, there was something a bit off about her. She didn't seem like the type to keep her own building in such a frightful state, but yet she didn't seem at all perturbed by it. Even stranger, neither did Shaggy or Scooby. The rest of the gang watched with wide, confused looks. It wouldn't be long before she stepped forward and shook his hand, which he eagerly returned, doing the same with Scoob. "I also see you brought some friends, this time."

He turned around and saw the four of them huddled together, obviously weirded out by the weird house. Velma was giving him a strange look, as if waiting for him to explain where they were. Freddie, Daphne, and Googie seemed pretty nervous, watching to make sure a spider wouldn't land on them.

"Oh, like, these are my friends! Freddie, Velma, and Daphne are part of Mystery Incorporated, and that's Googie, who I, like, used to go out with," He explained, laughing a bit. They all gave a sheepish smile and a wave.

"Uh.. a pleasure to meet you, Miss Grimwood." Velma began, trying to sound polite.

"Yeah, real... lovely place you got here," Daphne added, eyeing roach crawl from a crack in the wall all the way up to a crack in the ceiling.

Miss Grimwood smiled a bit more, laughing some at her comment. "Oh well thank you. I made sure everything was just perfect for the girls' arrival!" She explained, leading them further into the building. Shaggy and Scooby followed closely, the rest soon catching up after a few seconds. Was this a... design choice by the woman?

"Erm... if you don't mind me asking," Googie began nervously. "I assume the girls don't mind this type of decor?"

"Oh, they adore it!" Grimwood replied happily, stopping in what appeared to be a big foyer. She turned her attention to Shaggy and Scooby. "Speaking of which, would you like to see the girls again, Shaggy? I'm sure they wouldn't mind taking time from unpacking to see their favorite coach again."

"Like, I'm their favorite?" He asked, sounding surprised. Miss Grimwood replied with a giggle.

"Well of course! Not only did you help them win their first volleyball game, but also saving them from that evil witch! You were bound to leave an impact."

"Witch?!" The other four replied, sounding surprised by how casual she threw that out there.

Shaggy gulped and laughed nervously. "Oh right! Heh... uh, Miss Grimwood... I like-"

"Didn't tell your friends, hm?" She finished, looking up with an eyebrow cocked, her grin not leaving her face. A meek nod from the two gave her the answer she needed. The woman turned her attention to the four, smiling wider. "Not to worry, we'll be sure to explain everything over dinner." Shaggy and Scooby shared an excited expression at the mention of dinner, while the other four shared one of unease.

Miss Grimwood cleared her throat as she kept on. "But first..." She turned her head towards the stairwell, calling at them. "Girls! Come downstairs, your coach is here!"

None of them, save for Grimwood, expected the response that was given, which sounded like it came from a rough, tough girl. "Ugh, no way! I've had enough of him!"

Miss Grimwood put her hands on her hips as she huffed, everyone else making a confused noise. "Now, really, Winnie! That's no way to treat a guest, let alone your-"

"Coach..?" Came a new, timid voice. It was quite small sounding, but still made an effort to make itself known. This got the attention of everyone, looking at the source of the sound. To Freddie, Daphne, Velma, and Googie, they saw a bandaged girl decked out in gold jewelry peek out from behind a door frame. To Miss Grimwood, Shaggy, and Scooby, they knew exactly who that was.

Scooby grinned and waved a paw. "Riya, Ranis!"

Miss Grimwood stepped out of the way as the girl suddenly let out a squeal, quickly running forwards at the two. Now that she fully revealed herself to be fully bandaged, the other got even more confused. Was she a burn victim? She didn't sound like one, nor did she look like she was in pain. The jewelry looked Egyptian, certainly. Was she a...?

In that instant, the mummified girl jumped up and clung to Shaggy's neck, hugging onto him tightly. Shaggy, oddly enough, laughed. As he returned the hug to the overeager young girl, he looked over her some. "Like, you can't be Tanis! You're all grown up!" He joked.

The girl replied by nodding happily. "Yeah..! My mummy-daddy made sure to freshly wrap my bandages before I got here, even supplying me with more in case I hit another growth spurt!"

At this point, the other four shared a look, as if sharing the same thought. Was 'mummy-daddy' a weird way of her saying 'mother and father'? Before any of them could ask, however, the voice from before was heard as Shaggy gently put the short, bandaged girl down.

"...wait a second..." The voice mumbled. The next noise heard was a door quickly opening up. A couple of seconds passed before a very loud howling noise was made. The noise sent shivers down everyone's spine, although Shaggy seemed to keep smiling happily.

"That sounded like..." Daphne began. Before she could continue, though, something heavy came rampaging down the stairs.

Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump THUMP THUMP THUMP

A brown and blue furry blur came leaping down the stairs, hitting the floor and immediately jumping at Shaggy. Tanis had tugged Scooby out of the way to avoid the oncoming collision. "COOOOOOACH!" The blur howled out.

As she made contact with the lanky man, he let out a loud grunt, being sent back at least five yards. The gang let out a yell, Googie shrieking loudly.

"A werewolf!" She cried out, watching with wide scared eyes. The sight before them, thankfully, wasn't Shaggy being gored alive. It was Shaggy laughing. Again. He was trying to wrestle the girl off of him, who was taking to nuzzling and hugging him as tightly as she possibly could, giving Shaggy a face full of brown fur and messy orange hair. Up close, they could see that the wolf wore a baby blue tank top with shredded jeans. Obviously, she lacked shoes.

"Coach! Aw man, I can't believe it's you again! I didn't know you were here until I thought I heard your voice! I opened my door and took a whiff and... it was you! You actually came back!" She rambled in a giddy manner, her tail wagging like crazy.

"Hahaha! Like, it's good to see you too, Winnie!"

Freddie gave a little, nervous smile. "Uh... maybe it's just a really hairy girl?"

Googie shook her head, pointing towards the nuzzling wolf. "Then how do you explain the tail?!"

In that moment, Winnie lifted her head up and eyed them all, making them flinch a bit. She turned back to Shaggy. "Who're they?"

"Oh like, a few friends of mine I decided to bring along!" He answered. With this, she finally got off of Shaggy's chest, quickly moving towards the others, who were now huddled in a tight group, worried what Winnie was about to do. She began moving around them, eyeing them up with glowing yellow eyes and sniffing them loudly.

"Hrmm... they don't smell dangerous..." She grumbled, eyeing over Freddie a little. "How do we know they're not gonna cause trouble?" Winnie asked skeptically. Oddly enough, Velma was thinking the same thing.

Tanis had taken to hiding behind Scooby, who was looking over the group cautiously. Scooby was gently patting her head as she smiled shyly. "Th-they're friends of Shaggy's, so they wouldn't do anything. Right..?" She asked nervously, peeking up at them with her bright blue eyes.

Daphne couldn't help but smile at the shy young girl. She was really adorable, even if something about her did seem off. Did the bandages really mean she was a mummy?

Another noise seemed to echo through the room. This time, however, it sounded more like heavy footsteps growing louder and louder as they ascended a stairwell. Items seemed to shake as the rumbled grew louder, a few people losing their balance, even some of the students. "Ah, that must be another girl eager to meet you again!" Miss Grimwood stated.

One cue, a door loudly creaked open, and a tall girl started lumbering towards them. A very tall girl. Covered in stitches. With standing black and white hair. And bolts out of her neck. And very intimidating muscles. The girl seemed to be wearing patchwork green clothing, which almost matched her sickly pale green skin. From the looks of it, she also wore an old (and, thankfully, clean looking) apron. She wore matching pants and large black boots. The way she seemed to stare at everybody looked like she was going to murder them all in an instant.

That is until Shaggy spoke up. "Like, hey, Elsa! I see you've grown up lots too!" In that moment, her face softened up, smiling brightly as she quickly ran to him, quickly scooping up Scooby and Shaggy into a backbreaking hug.

"Coach! It's been so long!" She boomed happily. Her voice came out quite slow, yet loud. The two squirmed in her grasp, Shaggy's grin turning into a pained grimace.

"Mmf... yeah..! Like, great to be back..!" Shaggy strained.

"Reaking of racks..." Scooby grunted, starting to feel lightheaded.

Miss Grimwood seemed to chuckle a bit before speaking up. "Careful now, Elsa, or they'll pass out before the others get a chance to see them."

The girl named Elsa opened her arms and let out a sheepish laugh. "Sorry about that, Coach. Without your guidance I think I got a bit weaker." She said, rubbing her very toned looking bicep.

Shaggy laughed and gave her muscle a playful squeeze. Or at least tried to, but it looked like he was trying to squish a rock. "If that's weak, then I'll bet your A-game is, like, off the charts," He joked, laughing a bit.

Freddie blinked at the sight of more and more... strange girls coming in. As the werewolf continued to sniff them, he gulped. "...maybe she got into a few accidents as a kid..?"

"Including two bolts in her neck?" Velma added in sarcastically.

"Maybe an incident at a construction site?" He added in hastily. Winnie looked to Tanis, pointing a thumb at him and giving a look that said 'can you believe this guy?' The mummy girl hid her face in her bandages to stifle her giggles.

As Shaggy and Scooby readjusted their spines, a very loud cackling filled the room. All of the humans, save for Miss Grimwood, seemed to flinch at it. Suddenly, the torso of a blue girl phased through the floor, right in front of Daphne, who let out a shout, staring at her with wide eyes. She was a translucent blue, her hair white with a blue streak down the middle, almost like a side mohawk.

The girl didn't seem to take any mind at this, looking around. "Hehehe, hey hey! What's with all the ruckus, huh? Are we having our Halloween party in September this year?!" She joked, giggling maniacally. She turned her head 180 degrees, landing on the group, who seemed to back up. There was no denying that this girl was a ghost, and a loud one, at that. "Hiya, strangers! Pleasure to meet ya! I'm Phantasma, but you can all call me Phanty! Everyone does, after all," She continued to speak, pulling herself through the floor and floating above everyone. Her body was still dressed in a tattered blue dress, her feet covered in white cowboy boots. The biggest difference in her was that she definitely looked older, even if she didn't dress that way.

"And hello to you too, Winnie, and Tanis, and Shaggy, and Scooby, and Elsa, and Miss-" Phanty stopped mid-sentence, gasping loudly and over-dramatically. In an instant, she flew over to Scooby and Shaggy, pulling them by the waist so that she was in between them in a sandwich type of hug. The phantom let out an ear piercing squeal, bouncing in place in a giddy manner. "Ohmygod ohmygod ohmyGOD! It's really you two!" She laughed happily, her energy not having gone down an ounce.

Despite her loud voice and her cold touch, Shaggy smiled and returned the hug with Scooby. "Like, of course it is! I'm surprised you're this excited over us!"

"Well duh! You're the bestest coach in the world!" Phanty screamed, circling around the two happily.

"Come now, Phanty, try not to overwhelm our guests too badly," Came the purr of a sultry voice. Everyone turned to see a purple girl descend the stairs, staring with a half lidded gaze between everyone. She had a strange beauty to her, and it was almost hard to believe she was a teenager. She looked very much like a young woman, her complexion practically perfect in every way. Her dress seemed to flow gracefully behind her.

Thankfully, to the off-put group of four, she looked relatively normal, if a bit goth and... purple. Her eyes seemed very strange, for some reason, though. They peered into the eyes of the four before she turned to Shaggy and Scooby. She let herself curtsy and bow her head slightly. "Welcome to Grimwood's. I am Sibella Dracula," She introduced politely, almost regally. At the mention of the name 'Dracula', Googie's grasp seemed to tighten against Fred's shirt. Whether out of fear or anger, even she did not know.

There was definitely something... terrifying about the girl. Not outwardly, but something inside. With the name Dracula, there was no doubt this young lady was a vampire. Powerful beings, ones that shouldn't be trifled with. The gang remained silent as Shaggy stared blankly at her. For a moment, they thought he was going to come to terms with reality. He was in a mansion filled with monsters, one of whom was the daughter of the worlds' most dangerous vampire. They expected him to suddenly realize where he was and hit the road.

Imagine their faces when he merely put his hands on his hips, raised an eyebrow, and gave a wry smile.

"Like, c'mon, Sibella. You know there's no reason to act so proper around me!" He stated.

A few seconds passed before her lips curled upwards into a grin. A blur of purple flashed forward onto Shaggy, not unlike how Tanis had earlier. It was a bit creepier, though, since she was tall enough to reach the floor, her face right near his neck. Despite the fact the rest of the group held their breath, expecting her to plunge her fangs into his jugular, she merely kept hugging.

"...it's fang-tastic to see you again, Shaggy," She sighed, letting go of him after a few seconds. Shaggy smiled brightly at her and laughed again.

"Like, there's the Sibella I know!"

Googie, Velma, Daphne, and Fred were dumbfounded. Shaggy hugging monsters like it was nothing! Fred cleared his throat, finding his voice.

"...well, gang, I think it's safe to say the sign wasn't vandalized."

#scooby doo monster menagerie #scooby doo fanfiction #scooby doo #dylan writes #fanfiction #iunno

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lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean · 3 years

Text

La Pomme ~ Chapter 12

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 5,500

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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George was lounging in the warm bath water, trying to use breathing exercises to clear her mind and calm herself. It had been a long day, capping off a long almost-month inside the Supernatural Universe. There were so many questions she couldn't answer and she wished she could turn her brain off; focus on anything else.

"George?" She heard Dean's muffled call from the other side of the bathroom door. "You OK in there?"

"Yea," She answered quietly. "Just humiliated," She added with an eye roll.

"Don't sweat it," Came his unusually sympathetic reply. "We've all been there, or somewhere similar… or somewhere worse," He added off handedly, taking another bite of pie. It occurred to him suddenly that the two of them were alone and Dean had a thought. After a moment's hesitation, he swallowed his bite of pie and called timidly, "George?"

"Yea?" She responded curiously, her voice raised slightly to compensate for the sound barrier. There was such a long pause with no answer that she wondered if it had just been her imagination. As she was about to call out again, she heard him finally.

"Can I ask you something?" Came an inquiry so quiet she almost didn't hear it. He sounded uncharacteristically troubled and… nervous?

"Yea, sure," She answered gently.

"What do you know about Michael?"

"Michael who?" Came her quick, confused reply.

"The archangel? Asshole that's been wearing me as a suit the last few weeks?" She was suddenly reminded of the fact that she was living inside of a TV show and it stunned her into silence. "That Michael? Has he not been on the show or...?" The nervous huff in his reply shook her out of her stupor. She realized this must be a hard topic for him. Unfortunately, though, she didn't have any insight to give.

"Oh fuck, right, Michael," She swallowed and gathered her thoughts before replying with a sigh, "I'm sorry, Dean, I don't really know much. I hadn't started this season yet," She finished apologetically.

"Thanks," Came a sarcastic reply.

She frowned and defended, "Look, I have a life, dude! I get behind, I can't always tune in every Thursday! Trust me, no one is more sorry about that than me right now. Maybe if I had, I could have done something to prevent this insane situation." A heavy sigh dotted the end of her sentence pointedly. Then she had a strange, disconcerting thought:

Would you really have prevented this from happening if you had a choice?

The thought startled her and she guiltily refused to answer herself.

A welcome distraction for her was noticing the silence that followed her answer to Dean; George could tell he was still concerned. Reaching over and grabbing the door handle, she cracked it just enough to spy Dean sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding a take out box. He glanced at her almost imperceptibly and she could tell her eyes weren't exactly welcome, so she turned her head away but left the door open.

"Here's what I've heard/seen on accident," She started, pausing to think and then saying carefully, "He comes back somehow," She heard him bristle but kept going, "And you do something to trap him. Some kind of box… or maybe a walk-in freezer?" She was trying to organize the spoilers she'd seen and identify what was related to Michael and what wasn't. "I know that doesn't make a lot of sense and I'm sorry, but that's all I've got."

Dean sighed and shrugged, "It's alright, George. I'm just… feeling lost. Was hoping for some clues, but it's not on you to save my bacon." George gave a wry smile to the bath water and sat quietly for a moment.

Finally she turned her head to look at him and asked, "You want to know what I do know, Dean?"

Slowly, he turned to look at her with an intrigued eyebrow, "I don't know, do I?"

With an amused eye roll she spoke, "I know this--right now--this story line with alternate Michael? It's two seasons behind where you and your brother end up in my reality. And--at least as far as I remember--this alternate Michael isn't a starring role for very long."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at her in consideration, "Meaning?"

She shrugged and offered, "Meaning, you figure this out. Like you always do. You will figure this out and you will beat Michael and be onto the next big bad, whomever that is. Which, don't even ask because I really have no idea. Haven't watched those seasons at all yet… I think there's one episode where you meet Scooby Doo?"

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes, telling her matter-of-factly, "We already did that."

"No shit?! That already happened?" When he nodded in confirmation George 'ughed' loudly, rolling her eyes, "Damnit, that must have been one of the ones I just watched. What was it like?! Was Shaggy really high? Was Daphne really hot? Was Scooby just adorable?!"

Dean chuckled and answered, "Uh, yes, hell yes, and duh! It's Scooby Doo! Of course he's adorable!"

"Was it weird to be animated?"

He shrugged a little, "Eh, kin-"

She cut him off with a gasp, "Wait! Was all of you animated, like.. did you have all your-"

He shook his head and proclaimed, "That's none of your business!"

"Sorry!" George apologized defensively, then begged, "Tell me you and Daphne-"

"George!" Dean admonished with feigned offense, "I don't kiss and tell."

She scoffed and guessed, "Struck out, huh?"

Dean frowned and simply said, "Her and Fred are an item. I didn't want to break that up," to which George laughed in disbelief.

"Yea, I got it. I think things are starting to come back to me now," George teased him and he shrugged in defeat, unable to deny the fact that he definitely struck out with Daphne. When her laughter died away, she looked at him again and said, "I'm sorry I can't be more of a help. I know, I know, it's not my job to save you but that doesn't mean I enjoy not being able to." They were quiet again for a minute and she sighed, "If I could just call Ryan."

"Who's he?"

"She is my Winchester Wiki," She explained very matter of factly and Dean stared at her with an annoyed expression. With a smile she continued, "She's my friend and she's also a fan of the show; Got me back into it later in life and, well lets just say, she pays closer attention than I do. She'd be able to help you with this whole Michael problem without breaking a sweat. Oh and she's gorgeous," George tossed on and Dean raised a curious eyebrow. She caught his curious expression and asked, "You don't happen to have a phone with trans-universal long distance coverage by chance?"

Dean snorted and shook his head in bemused defeat, "Not on me." He was frustrated that she didn't have more insight on Michael, though somewhat comforted by the fact that-at least in her reality-he wasn't dead yet. That was something, he guessed.

"So," George smirked at him, glee in her eyes, "American's Next Top Model, hmm?"

"What, are you surprised? A house full of attractive models?" Dean gave her an obvious expression.

She shark-mouthed understandably and nodded, "Fair point. Allison cycle 12? Ooof. Hello!"

Dean considered her assessment for a moment, then nodded agreeably but offered, "Mercedes, cycle 2."

George had to remember who that was for a minute but then nodded emphatically, "Yes! Gorgeous and she was good. She ended up top three, right?"

They compared notes for a few minutes, until he finished the last bite of pie in the container he was holding. Then he whipped out his phone and muttered in her direction, "Finish your bath. I'm gonna text Sam for more towels."

When Sam got the text he snagged a pile from a housekeeping cart on their way back to George's room. They had also stopped by the car and brought up a few bags, per his request. Dean carefully handed George the towels through the bathroom door, so as to not accidentally see any bits, and then turned to Sam for a room update.

"Bad news: no adjoining rooms. The best I could do was five doors down. Even more bad news: only one queen bed." Sam held up the room key with a feigned wince. "But listen, I don't think we should leave George alone, so I'll just crash on the floor in here and you can take the room."

"Wow, what a sacrifice," Dean chuckled knowingly at his brother and snatched the key from him. "Shouldn't we have Cas handle it, though?"

"No, why?" Sam protested a little too fast.

"Because he doesn't need sleep. He can keep an eye on the little deserter. Make sure she doesn't do it again?"

Sam frowned, "She's not going to. And if she does, I think I can handle it. How is she supposed to get any sleep with Cas staring at her all night?"

"I don't stare at people when they sleep," Cas interrupted. With a huff he clarified, "I stare at the wall."

Dean looked at the offended angel and shrugged, "It's not that bad. He's quiet. Honestly, it's kind of comforting when you think about it." There was an awkward pause and Dean added, "Sometimes he'll sing for you if you ask nice-"

"Dean," Castiel admonished him for sharing something so intimate. Cas only did that for him.

Sam looked between the two of their sheepish faces and then assured sarcastically, "Yea, a singing angel staring at the wall in the dark. Totally not creepy."

George came out of the bathroom wrapped in the clean towels from Dean. She was now looking a little sheepish as well, "Hey, sorry about earlier. All of it. I jus-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Dean held up a hand to her. "Save it for the morning. You can spill your guts over breakfast. We couldn't get adjoining rooms, so Cas and I will be just down the hall; Sam will stay with you tonight. On the floor," He said pointedly with a 'behave' look toward Sam, who rolled his eyes in irritation. George nodded, barely listening, and let out a tired sigh.

Then she had a startling thought and groaned, "Shit. I'm going to have to put those crusty clothes back on."

Dean grinned proudly, "You're not the only one with surprise gifts." He took the bags that Sam and Cas had retrieved from the car and set them down on the wooden table.

"What's this?" She asked, grabbing one of the handles and peeking into the bag where she spotted the Friends logo hoodie she'd picked out at Target. "My clothes? My deodorant?! Oh Dean! Thank you so much! I would kiss you but you have pie like… all over your face, but thank you!" As she dug into the bags to search for the PJs, Dean looked questioningly at Sam and Cas who nodded in confirmation.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Dean grumbled, moving over to the sink to wipe his face. Sam shrugged in feigned innocence, laughing internally at his idiot brother.

"How did you get all the clothes I picked?" She asked, impressed.

"We got lucky; Sam happened to hear one of the employees complaining about a nutty woman who'd run from the store like a bat outta hell and abandoned all her stuff," Dean gave her a pointed stare.

She looked first at Sam, and then Cas and Dean, with immense gratitude, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her spirits had been lifted a little. The fresh underwear alone was going to make her feel a thousand times better.

"They mentioned they'd already put back one or two items when we asked about it, so hopefully we got the right replacements." Sam warned her.

"I don't care! I can apply deodorant and brush my teeth; I'm sure I can put together at least one clean outfit with what's here! So I'm hap-" She suddenly stopped and froze, having discovered a strange item in one of the bags. "Wha?" In one swift motion she pulled out a pale pink lace bodysuit and held it up for them to see. With an annoyed, yet curious expression she looked at Dean and asked, "Someone care to explain this?"

Dean held his hands up in innocence and Sam inspected the garment in confusion.

"It looked nice on the mannequin and the Target associate who helped me pick it out said it was bold, yet feminine. Perfect for the new woman in my life," Castiel happily explained, sounding as though he was reciting someone else's words.

George blushed a bit, looking at Sam and Dean like 'is he for real?', unsure how to respond. Both men shrugged unhelpfully, avoiding eye contact with the item she was still holding, and remained quiet. Cas seemed so proud, she didn't want to ruin it.

Finally, she stuttered out, "Wow. OK, well… thanks. Very thoughtful of you, Castiel…"

"If you wanted to provide me with your exact measurements, the sales associate offered to help me pick out a 'matching bra and panty se'-"

"OK, why don't we quit while we're ahead, eh Buddy?" Dean grabbed up four of the remaining takeout boxes and motioned for Cas to do the same. He then reached for the pink, lacey material in George's hand, jokingly trying to take it from her.

She swatted him with it and held it out of his reach, "Hey! You're the old woman in his life."

He couldn't help but laugh in response, though he shook his head in annoyance, and then headed out the door with the angel in tow, "See you crazy kids in the morning!"

When they left George looked at Sam curiously, "Is it wrong that I kind of want to give Cas 'my measurements' and then watch him try to pick out lingerie?"

Sam smirked in amusement but nodded, "Yes."

"Oh, you're no fun," George chuckled and tossed the teddy back into the bag.

"Perhaps the wrong audience?" He suggested with a chuckle.

"Yea, that's fair," She agreed. While she rifled through the bags and grabbed out some black PJ pants, a light blue, short sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of underwear, Sam watched her quietly. To say he was relieved to find her safe and unharmed was an understatement. He'd also been thrilled by her admission that she liked it here, but, like Cas, he was curious what it meant. And what it could mean for him.

Does she like it enough to stay maybe? He cursed at himself for even thinking it.

"Uh, George?" He finally pushed through the nerves and forced himself to speak.

"Hmm?" She responded curiously, not looking up from her bags just yet.

He tried to adopt a nonchalant, yet comforting tone and asked, "When you were saying earlier that you felt… comfortable here? Like you belong? What did you mean?"

Pausing her rummaging, she glanced over at him, caught off guard by the question. Truthfully, she didn't know if she could answer it. She was quiet for a long time, trying to decide how deep she wanted to get into this.

Finally, she turned to him and said, "Back home I… I've always had this strange, out of place feeling. Major dysphoria my whole life and kinda irritatingly painful too, like... full body restless leg syndrome. I've always imagined it similar to how a trans individual might experience feeling like they were born in the wrong body, ya know?" Sam made a noise of confirmation and she continued, "Except, my body is fine--well, it's not the cause of this problem anyway," they chuckled together.

"It's more… my whole being was wrong somehow, like I didn't belong. Anywhere. I had trouble connecting with people and making friends; even my own family seemed so different from me. I felt like I was on a different wavelength than other people, and not in a snooty, I'm-better-than-anybody way but like a sad, I-have-hardly-any-friends-because-I-can't-relate way, so it sucked. Hard. My family wasn't much help; though they tried to help by testing me for every 'disorder' you could think of. Nada. I was just… inexplicably different and no one could explain why. I could barely explain what I was feeling. They--my parents--were surprisingly relieved when I came out after college. For them, my 'struggle with the fact that I liked boys and girls throughout my childhood' explained everything away so perfectly, that they wrote it off right then and there. But it never had to do with that; my sexuality was nothing I ever struggled with, I just didn't feel like I needed to tell them. And since I'm still queer in this reality..." She trailed off her point, allowing him to fill in the blanks, with a chuckle.

Sam nodded with a sympathetic smile, clearly reading on her face how painful her experience had been. Gently he asked, "And now, being here, i-in this reality, you feel...?"

Her head tilted to the side and, looking at him wide-eyed, she sighed deeply, "Now? God, now, I feel… normal? Or, at least what I can only assume normal people feel like." Suddenly her voice was heavy with deep emotional relief, "I don't know how to explain it… and I don't know why, maybe I don't even care why, but I feel so good for the first time in forever. Emotionally, spiritually, physically... The constant restless buzzing is mercifully just gone. Sometimes I think I feel it again--that terrible, agonizing discomfort--and my heart skips a beat. But then my brain registers that it really is gone and I still feel good! And that feeling is almost better than the best sex I've ever had."

Sam shark-mouthed in surprised appreciation and teased kindly, "So, I guess you did know how to explain it?"

George let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding with a chuckle and nodded, "Yea, I guess so. Honestly, I'm a little scared to go back," A few tears that had welled up as she was proselytizing spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably and she reached up to wipe them away, blushing lightly.

As George contemplated her admission in the silence, the guilt she felt over leaving them earlier was back. Why the hell did she leave if she'd felt so damn good here? She also felt like a stupid, impulsive child running away from the only people who seemed to care about her, at least insofar as they didn't want her to die. She felt especially guilty that Sam had stuck his neck out for her with Dean and she'd basically stomped on it.

Sam stood awkwardly, watching her with an empathetic grimace. He nearly leapt over to comfort her but… Christ, was this situation complicated. Maybe if things were different, maybe if she wasn't safer in her old reality, maybe if they hadn't handcuffed her to a chair and interrogated her, maybe if she hadn't spent the last few hours crying through an existential crisis, maybe if he wasn't terrified she would push him away in disgust? Maybe if she wasn't practically naked right now... maybe then he wouldn't feel so torn about walking over and wrapping her up into a bear hug.

After a moment of nervously wringing her fingers, George met his eyes and took a deep breath, apologizing, "I'm sorry I ran, Sam. I don't even really know why I-"

"Hey, you don't have to explain anything to me," Sam shook his head definitively, taking a few small steps toward her, now within arms reach. "I understand what you're going through-sort of, and you know, in reverse but still-I get it. Don't worry about it," He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it, "I'm just happy I found you."

At his touch, her heart skipped a beat and she felt her whole body flush, goosebumps forming on her skin. The sincerity in his voice and the look in his eyes nearly made her physically swoon. Was that an admission of something or just a subtextless statement of forgiveness? Staring into his eyes made her feel like she was on the downswing of the world's tallest roller coaster. She had to force herself to break eye contact before she could breathe again. He squeezed her hand once more before slowly letting go and as he did she had a realization.

"Thank you." Mustering up a smile through her butterflies, she clumsily grabbed the clothing she needed. "Anyway, I'm suddenly very, very aware of the fact that I'm naked-oh and have been since the three of you got here," She realized, blushing again. Jesus, I took a bath with Dean Winchester in the next room. Her legs felt like jelly as she tried to remain cool, calm, collect, walking toward the bathroom, "Uh, so, I should probably go put some clothes on, now."

Sam nodded understandingly and said with an earnest expression, "Hopefully not on my account." When George froze mid step and jerked her head towards him, burning red from head to toe, he faltered, "Er-uh-I just meant, you don't need to feel uncomfortable naaak-err-without-I mean you aren't making me uncomfortable while-without… clothes." George was relaxed by his shy, adorable stuttering, although at this point 'shy' surprised her. He'd been just as bold back at the bunker, more than once. He sighed and gave her a meek smile, "Uh, somehow this sounded less creepy in my head."

With a chuckle she put him out of his misery, "Relax, Ravenclaw, I understand. It's not on your account, it's on mine," She assured him, to which he nodded thankfully, a relieved expression on his face. She turned back to the door of the bathroom, pushing it open and stepping in.

When she exited the bathroom again, now fully clothed, the only light in the room was now the small, soft light above the bed. At first, the room seemed empty and George wondered if she'd scared Sam away with all her emotions. She was about to call out for him when she finally noticed a pair of big old feet sticking out from along the side of the bed near the window.

"Sam? What are you doing?" She walked over and found him lying on the ground on top of one solitary blanket.

"Just relaxing." He shrugged boyishly.

"On the floor?"

He clarified, "On my bed."

"Sorry, this tissue paper is supposed to be your bed?" She asked for clarification.

"Standard issue motel comforter. And, yea, it's perfect," He reached down on his side and pulled the right side of the blanket over himself. "See, you just fold the top over and it becomes a mattress and a blanket in one!" He seemed genuinely pleased about his makeshift accommodations, as though he was sharing a trade secret with her.

"Wow," she tried to sound impressed, "clever." She hopped onto the bed above him complimenting a bit sarcastically, "Quite the boy scout, aren't you?"

His head jerked up to look at her. There it was again. Another line direct from his dream falling familiarly from her lips. Hearing the pet name conjured images in his mind of the dream woman saying it. It felt identical.

But, how? That dream wasn't real. It was just Gabriel. George is a different woman, it's just a coin-

"Hey, can I ask you something?" George cut into his internal panicking with a soft voice suddenly.

"Yep?" He tried to seem nonchalant.

"Well… OK, I'm just going to say this because fuck it, I have nothing to lose at this point," She wasn't looking at him but sensed his nervous curiosity right away. Ignoring her own butterflies, she said, "Seems to me that the Sam I met at the bunker would have committed to that earlier 'unintended' innuendo." She raised a sideways brow at him, checking out of the corner of her eye to make sure he understood what she was referencing. When she could tell he did, she finally turned her head to meet his eyes and with a shy smile asked, "So, what gives?"

Sam considered her question for a minute; he wasn't sure where to start. Finally he folded his hands in his lap and shrugged sadly, "Actually, uh-about that, I feel like I owe you an apology."

Oooh, that doesn't sound good, George tried to hide her grimace. Her stomach started twisting in painful knots. What's that you were saying about nothing to lose?

"Por que?" She was trying to stave off a cold sweat.

"For… Well, I guess, how about handcuffing you to a chair and interrogating you for starters? For allowing you to be sexually assaulted by a demon? For letting you risk your life to come with us on this hunt? For hitting on you when you were obviously going through a difficult time? Take your pick."

She let out a breath of surprised relief and smiled curiously, "Oh… well in that case, let me just say: one, your brother was the one who handcuffed me to the chair--and it was understandable. Two, it's not your responsibility to protect me from the likes of Tim. He wasn't the first creep and he won't be the last." He seemed thoroughly unsatisfied by that response, so she tried to lighten it up by continuing, "And three, you didn't let me come on the hunt. Clearly I strong armed you." A tiny snort of amusement emitted from him and she smirked, then added curiously, "And, lastly, just to be clear… you were hitting on me?"

He huffed in humiliation, running his hand over his face, unable to look at her, "God, I feel like a real jackass." A blackhole was growing in the pit of his stomach. "Your world was literally turned upside down and you needed help not--not some weird, bunker dwelling asshole making advances."

"Uh, Sam," At first George laughed; the absurdity of the hottest man on television apologizing for hitting on her struck her funny bone. However, when it registered just how sober the tone of his voice was, the reality of the situation hit her again like a ton of bricks. She realized that part of her was still anticipating Jared to break at some point and reveal all of this had been an elaborate set up. It hadn't occurred to her yet that, for Sam, this was all real. His sincerity touched her.

She swallowed down the rest of her laughter, along with her typical smartass response, and smiled kindly, "Thank you for the apology and I appreciate the thought, I really do, but it's not necessary. You had no idea, considering I lied to you--which I'm also sorry about if I haven't already said that." That last part came out quickly upon realizing she might not have apologized yet. He gave her a kind smile and waved her off gently, so she continued, "So, please don't feel guilty. And I'll let you know if your advances are ever unwanted. Promise."

The deja vu hit him again so hard it knocked the wind out of him. His eyes snapped up to meet hers from his spot on the floor. A blush creeped across her cheeks as he stared curiously. She was back on the roller coaster, butterflies tumbling in her gut, but forced herself to keep eye contact, allowing him to conduct his search. She wasn't sure what he was so determinedly looking for but she hoped he was finding it.

A mix of emotions wrestled within him at the moment. Though he knew logically it made no sense, he was having a harder and harder time denying that he knew this woman, intimately--in every sense of the word. But, how?! And, holy shit, was she saying what he hoped she was saying? He could feel his hopes skyrocketing while he struggled to hold them down in self-preservation.

A huge yawn broke out on her face, ruining the moment and snapping Sam out of his stupor.

"Whoa, Jesus," She laughed a bit, surprised by the force of the yawn.

"Time for bed?" Sam tried to mask his disappointment at the disruption. She nodded agreeably.

"Listen, could you at least take a pillow, please? One pillow? For me?" Pulling the sheets back, so she could climb in, she yanked a pillow out and tossed it over the edge of the bed. She heard it land with an audible POOMPF right on his face. "Oops," she said with a snicker, reaching over to turn off the lamp on the table while he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

Sliding up under the covers, she settled down on her back. The deafening silence in the room allowed her mind to wander freely while she stared up at the ceiling. After a moment she rolled onto her side and peeked over the edge of the bed, surprised to find Sam's beautiful hazel eyes staring intensely back at her in the dark.

She whispered, "Sam?"

"Yeah?" Came a soft, low rumble, as he continued to stare back.

"How did you find me?" She wondered.

"Uh…" He turned away from her quickly and shifted nervously. He felt compelled to be honest with her; luckily the shroud of darkness made him bolder than he would have been in the harsh light of day. "We tracked you through the cab company mostly. Lost your trail at the diner and then… I'm not really sure. We were driving around and when I saw the sign for the motel I�� uh, just had a strong feeling that you were here?"

"...uh huh." His answer surprised her. So much so, that she had to break eye contact and lay back down. She stared at the ceiling in shock.

What did that mean?

Though even as she asked herself the question, she had a feeling that she already knew. It was a feeling that didn't exactly put her at ease; raising more questions than it answered. She mulled it over for a few moments, before deciding she was too tired to pull at that thread.

She finally shrugged a little and said, "Good instincts?"

"Yeah… that must be it," He trailed off, having a nearly identical conversation with himself, and they fell silent again.

"Sam?" She said, choking back a nervous laughter. When she heard him respond with a curious grunt she hesitated. Finally, she blurted in a quiet, definitive whisper, "Samgirl. No question." When she could hear the smile behind another, practically silent--as though he was trying to hide it--grunt of confirmation she smiled wide, adding quickly, "And just so you know, that is the first and last time you will ever hear me utter that silly term of my own volition."

"Understood," He murmured in a teasingly serious tone, making her laugh quietly.

With another big yawn, she forced herself to stop engaging. Before rolling over, she tossed over her shoulder, "And don't tell Dean. He'll be devastated and we have a job to do." The sound of his joyful chuckling was the last thing she heard before sleep overtook her.

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