Title: Kiss Me, Kill Me
Fandom/Genre: SPN/murder mystery, angst, romance, action, hurt/comfort
Pairing (s): Dean/Castiel, Sam/Jess, Sam/Brady
Word Count: 70k
Warnings: character death (major and minor), mentions of non-con, abuse, gore, violence, sex, language, suicide, mental illness
I would like to thank my wonderful artist, chemart for choosing this fic and making some extremely visually satisfying and deliciously creepy pieces for this fic. I screeched in pleasure at all the emails and pieces and these are all so, so wonderful! Since the art contains spoilers I'll be linking it in the end.
Also hugs and kisses and lots of thanks to my beta, Allison/DarcyDelaney for her quick work and amazing comments on this fic, and all this despite working on her own DCBB! I have no idea what I'd do without you, Allison.
Further thanks goes to my two jaans, my wifeys, Sanjana/SPNxBookworm and Naila remy-areyousrs for their inputs and cheering and for always, always making me feel better about this fic and encouraging some of my puns even though they were horrible. Also, thank you, and lots of hugs to Naomi/nomercles, Ellen/Lennelle and Jamie/cliffnotesofanerd for plot decisions; Jamie for her help with how the American ORs work, Naomi for helping me fill up some horrible plot holes I had no way out of and being all-around supportive, and Ellen for being there and helping me review some things about plot, characterization and generally letting me whine.
And last, but not the least, the DCBB mods. Thank you for organising this every year! 3
Without futher ado, here's my story. Apologies for my rambling notes. The Prologue and some random bits are outsider PoV but most of the story is told via someone from Team Free Will. Let me warn you, this story is fucked-up in a lot of ways. So brace yourselves. And (hopefully) enjoy! :)
The prologue and some random bits in between are outsider PoV but otherwise, the whole story is from the eyes of Team Free Will.
They say when you're dying your whole life flashes before your eyes. Scene by scene by scene. As if you need to be reminded of what you did, of your virtues and your sins. It's a strange concept, really; this, and the fact that no one could tell you if it is true or explain why it happens, makes it stranger.
Prologue
Tyngsborough, Massachusetts
Fall
It was quiet at the little diner. The moon shone down from the clear, dark sky, illuminating a strip of the dusty and deserted street outside. Linda sat stirring her coffee at a table by the window as she marvelled at the perfection of the night whilst trying to pay attention to the task at hand. She'd been trying for a while, but she just couldn't make sense of the numerous emails that she was required to reply to. And, though it wasn't going any better than when she'd been at home, Jack was right: this place was a little bit of a relief to her nerves. He came here often after work, and Linda reckoned she'd been driving him crazy, bouncing off the walls of the house with her frustrations. Now, she was thankful he sent her here. Apart from the quaintness of the diner, the soothing walls and nice furniture that helped calm her down; the bacon cheeseburger was the best she'd had in her entire life.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see the owner, a man about as old as her, cleaning up as he prepared to close shop for the night. He seemed really patient, though; he'd served Linda her food himself, a smile on his charming face, green eyes kind, and he'd not shown any signs of wanting to shoo her off from his establishment. He just waited, only ever interrupting her to refill her cup, with his nametag reading "Dean" in block letters.
The young waiters had left a while ago; a feisty redheaded girl, Charlie, who kept chattering about everything, and an Asian boy, Kevin, who looked like he was barely out of school. The noise levels had immediately reduced when they exited the diner, leaving Linda to her thoughts and the occasional sounds of Dean wrapping up after them. Once, he had even picked up his phone to talk to someone in a low, rumbling voice, smiling fondly, and Linda had tried not to watch.
She took a sip of her coffee and opened the next email, trying to read the details as her eyes squinted a little from the stress. It wasn't a good day at work. The pharmaceutical company she was employed at, Trevor & Co., was running at a loss and things were going haywire at her workplace. There were too many last-minute budget cuts going on, as well as intense pressure to compete better with no expectations for salary increases. Tempers were running high and people were fighting, cold wars being rampant at her workplace.
But she needed to do her job.
Linda sighed, fingers starting to tap at keys as she began to type out a reply. She was just getting into the mood of it when the bell above the door clinked loudly, startling her. She blinked up to see a dark-haired man enter the diner, dressed in a suit with a trench coat over it as he set his briefcase heavily on one of the seats. He did not acknowledge Dean at all. Instead, he sat at the booth near Linda's, just in front of her, rubbing at his eyes. Dean arrived at his table a moment later with coffee and the newcomer accepted it with a nod of acknowledgement, but nothing else.
There was more silence for a while after. Linda replied to another couple of emails, drained her coffee, and decided she should leave before taking advantage of the niceness of her host. Pushing her cup away, she shut her laptop. Dean noticed and got her the check before winking at her and turning to concentrate on his other customer.
"Long day," he said to him, mouth going up in a half-smirk. It wasn't even a question.
Linda placed the money on the table and stuffed her things into her bag. In front of her, the trench-coated man sighed. "I told you," he said, as he drained his coffee. "I liked today, though." Linda could hear a smile in his voice as he spoke.
"Yeah, I know." Dean sounded excited. "Bet your night will give your day a run for its money." He winked, and Linda's cheeks were growing hot, even if this wasn't aimed at her. That was horrible flirting, but damn. Did Dean do this with a lot of his customers?
The other man did not reply. He tapped at his cup, watching as Dean walked away to get the pot. When he came back he refilled the coffee and proceeded to sit on the tabletop, one foot touching the floor for support.
"Dean." The other man's voice was warm, adoring, like that single word, that one name, meant the universe to him.
Dean leaned forward and pulled at the tip of the other man's tie, winking. "Cas." His green eyes sparkled with mischief. Oh. So they did know each other. Linda felt like she was invading something private as she scrambled to leave. She was at the door when Cas brought a hand up to interlink it with Dean's. A glint of gold caught her eye.
Wedding bands.
Oh. Figures. They weren't strangers at all.
She was outside of the diner just when Dean bent forward to kiss his husband.
~o~
As she made her way back home, Linda tucked her hair behind her ears, thinking of first impressions and perceptions. She hadn't even guessed initially that those two men were familiar with each other, let alone husbands.
The night air was chilly, but the moonlight made up for the cold sinisterness of it. Linda pulled out her phone to tell Jack that she would be home in five. She owed him a hug and a kiss for even suggesting that little place to her because at least she got her work done for a bit.
She dialled Jack's number and put the phone to her ear, stuffing her other hand into her pocket as she quickened her pace. Her breaths were rising in mists, and damn, was it time for winter already? Hadn't fall just come in… yesterday? It seemed to be getting colder with each passing year. At least, Linda thought so. Or maybe her tolerance for cold weather was down a few notches.
Jack, the bastard, didn't pick up his phone and Linda huffed in annoyance as she continued towards their place. When she got there, she saw that the lights inside the house were turned off, and she rolled her eyes. The lazy asshole was asleep. Of course he was. And he'd better have done the dishes before conking off for the night.
She put her keys down on the little table by the doorway. When she tried to switch on the lights, they didn't work. Damned fuse must have blown again. Linda groaned and shut the door behind her. "Jack?"
There was no answer.
Where was he? How didn't he notice the lack of electricity in the house?
Linda swore to God she was going to go wake him the fuck up now. Mildly irritated, she fished out her phone and switched on the flashlight in it. A thin stream of bright light illuminated the beginning of the stairs a few feet to her right. She made her way over and started to move up.
She was on the fourth step when the phone fell from her hand. Cursing, she picked it up to illuminate her path again, and froze. There was something on the couch downstairs.
She saw it. She definitely saw it. It was—it…
Heart thumping against her chest, Linda shone the torch back down…
… only to start screaming.
Her legs trembled as they carried her out and she ran and she ran, screams still echoing through the night air, people gathering and arms grabbing for her. She felt someone hold her, a pair of hands shake her by the shoulders, but she couldn't hear their words beyond her own.
Jack! Someone killed Jack! He's dead, he's dead!
Oh, and oh God, she'd seen it; she'd seen it. There was a huge hole in his chest. Like his heart was gone.
A/N: Thank you for reading, hope you're hooked. Feedback is most appreciated. :)
Guest Review Response: AAAAH! I am so, so psyched that you like it. :D Thank you so much. :)