Title: Feels Like You Crashed Into My Life
Rated for: T - for now.
Genre: Adventure / Mystery / Suspense / Romance
Fandom/Universe: Supernatural
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, OC
Pairings: ?
Spoilers/Warning: Not Sure
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters are copyright Eric Kripke, Kripke Enterprises & The CW Network. No infringement intended.
Summary: She has been a prisoner far longer than she can remember. So she's not about to let two guys in a '67 Impala derail her escape.
Status: In-Progress
Author's Note: i had an idea and so far this is all i've got =]
Chapter: Prologue
Prologue
The rain is a barely there drizzle and the road is slightly foggy and slick. Both Winchesters are gloomy and silent. The windey road takes his full concentration and the gray sky with its dark clouds still full of rain that don't look as though its going to come down anytime soon. There's uncomfortable silence in the car, a conversation about the next step the brothers can't agree upon. It's the same version of yesterday and every other argument they've had in the last nine years. The outcome is always the same; the brothers just do what they think is best, even if the other one doesn't agree.
From above, on right side of the road there's a jagged slope. From the wet dirt, roots poke out, crumbling dirt and rocks roll down into the road from the overhang. Its not a deadly drop, not too high up but it would definitely hurt to land from that high up. The road is silently eerie. A soft fog rolls over the road, low to the ground and it parts for Baby as she speeds on down.
W
Running feet stumbled on uneven ground, leaves and twigs. Mud splattered legs, scraped hands and face. Makes a grab for a thin tree and a bloody foot sinks into the soft ground around the roots. Another step forward and the ground drops. It breaks apart, crumbles until it's a hard tumble, rolling in twigs, mud and rocks and then it's a dead-drop. Hands manage to grab a couple of roots and smacks hard into the side of the ragged overhang.
W
Sam leans forward in the passenger seat, he wipes a hand at the windshield because he's not sure he's seeing this.
Dean also leans forward - "What the hell…?"
"She's gonna fall." Sam braces on the dash as Dean slams the brakes cursing but she's definitely falling. "Dean… !" Until…she kicks off the protruding rock and sort of turns that fall into a dive. The Impala skids on the wet road.
W
The impact is harsh, its jarring but the moving object, slick with rain, offers no grip. She slides along the roof, elbow hitting the back windshield, shoulder slamming onto the trunk and then its gravel and oily water. Her cheek stings from the scratches along the asphalt. Her hands splay flat on the ground, water pooling around her fingers as she gets to her feet.
W
The Impala hasn't fully come to a stop. Dean's door is already opening while Sam looks behind to where the girl is shakily trying to get on her feet. Dean has the Impala in park, engine still running as he steps onto the road. Sam's door creaks open and he's looking at the girl, slightly hunched over, straighten up in time to see the man drop in a few feet from her.
W
She braces for another fight, no weapons left, each one expended on the body before. It comes at her full force. She ducks the first and second blow, blocks the next and redirects the one after that. She gets a grip on it before it slips away and plants a fist in her face. She rolls to her back, kicks up just in time to send it stumbling.
W
The brothers move towards her as one, their way blocked by two more figures that appear from opposite sides of the road. No flutter of wings to say they come from above and then the pitch black eyes have the brothers reaching for the one weapon that kills demons.
W
The metal echoes with the impact of her back and head as she gets slammed. Its hand is at her throat, gripping tightly, cutting off her breath. She's weaker than before, the rain gave her advantage against the army sent for her. These stragglers are all that's left and maybe all that's needed to do the job. Still, she's not giving up, hand splaying flat on the metal. The water pebbles slowly pull together, drawn towards her hand to pool under her palm. She grips the cool cylinder, quickly forming into a spike, solidifying even as she brings it up. The tip sinks easily into the left eye, the hand at her throat loosens significantly. Drawing on the added strength, she pushes the rest of the spike until her palm is flat on his face. He falls back but she goes with him, grabbing onto his neck with both hands.
W
Dean pulls the bloody knife from the man as flickers of light shoot through the meat suit. He lets it fall to the ground and glances towards Sam whose struggling to hold his own with the demon. The thunk of metal draws his attention to the trunk and the girl being throttle by a demon. A howl echoes and before Dean has a chance to act - help Sam - a huge blurred shape just falls out of the sky. It lands behind the demon trying to pull away from the girl. It leaps, its bulk slamming into both of them. The girl disappears beneath them and the demon turns to dust, puffs of black powder that turn to sludge once its splattered all over the road. The dog is huge, bared teeth snarling towards the Winchesters. Dean stumbles back a pace when it lunges towards the Impala and then it goes for Sam. Dean tries to get to his brother but he comes around the trunk as the demon is crushed, bursting into more black powder.
"Sam?!"
The dog turns on Dean, snarling and snapping as it leaps towards him, forcing Dean to back up, knife raised.
"Dean?" Sam calls, he wipes at his clothes, making disgusted faces at the black substance covering him.
"Sam!"
"..Fine! I'm good." Sam calls getting to his feet. He spots the black-gray fur as Dean slowly moves out of its way. They both stare at the dog backing up to the girl laid out in the road. Sam glances to where the black power is sinking into the ground and back at the dog trying to get the girl to wake up. "Its… hers?"
"Doesn't look as though it wants to tear her to pieces." Dean frowns, knife still held ready, watching intently as the dog pats a huge paw on the girls shoulder and side. She doesn't stir and the dog utters a high pitched whine.
"I think…it was helping her." Sam states taking a tentative step towards them. The dog snarls, teeth bared at the approaching pair that immediately halt.
Dean lowers the knife, makes a show of putting it away and holds out both hands, palms up. "Easy boy…"
"Dean! What are you doing?" Sam is alarmed but he stops reaching for him when Dean shakes off the restraining hand.
"I'm not gonna hurt her." He keeps his eyes on the dog, teeth still bared threateningly. It backs up for each step Dean takes towards them. "Easy… see? Just … gonna check…" he glances down at the girl but she's got a swathe of inky hair over her face. He skims his fingers along her cheek, hooking the damp strands to see the scratches on her skin, the bruise purpling rather extravagantly.
"Dean?" Sam takes a tentative step towards his brother and stops as soon as those fangs snarl at him. Dean falls back on his ass, the dog ignoring him in favor of Sam, its body protectively poised over the girl.
"Damn it, Sam!" Dean scowls. "Easy! Hey, woa!" Dean pulls his hand back from the snapping jaws but the dog doesn't make a grab for him. "I'm trying to help." He scowls and the dog snarls in reply but backs up.
Dean shifts to his knees and gently slips a hand through the muddy locks to search for a pulse. Satisfied to find it steady, he slips his hand around her neck and slowly shifts her.
"What?" Sam leans slightly forward but he can't see over Dean's shoulder.
"Smacked her head." Dean mutters. He gently lays her flat, fingers lightly probing her temple and the raw, bleeding scrapes. The fall should have done more damage, broken leg at the very least…
The demons chasing her… Dean wonders what they want with her. Its one reason he decides they're going to get her out of the road. He's not about to dwell on his memories of Hell or the months leading up to his trip down there or even on the how. Most nights, he still can't sleep past those memories, even with the liquor he downs like juice. The memories haunt him…
Dean looks up, it had been raining before and even with the slight drizzle that's more like a mist, the girl is barely damp. The mud on her legs and arms is mostly dried out and Dean can already feel little beads of rain accumulating in his short hair.
Dean slips his arms under her. He gets up, easily managing her weight. He's taken aback by how light she feels and frowns at the dog. "You stay off my leather seat." He tells it.
The dog watches him standing in the middle of the road with the girl in his arms. It nips at her fingers but gets no response. Dean slowly backs up, turns and heads towards the Impala.
Sam gets the back door surprised his brother would even consider having the wet dog lounging in the back seat. This isn't like the job - "Look out!"
Dean sort of turns but the dogs head smacks into his side. He stumbles and with the girl in his arms, Dean smacks into the open door. Painfully.
The dog snuffles, shakes its head then turns and runs off the road and disappears.
"What the hell…?" Dean watches confused, arms full of the unconscious girl.
W
Hotel room; Sam has the first aid bag open on the foot of the bed. Dean comes back with towels and the ice bucket with water.
"What are we doing here?" Sam sighs, drops the bottle of peroxide and takes a step away from the bed and the unconscious girl his brother laid on it. "There's more questions than answers- that…dog? Those were demons!"
"I saw." Dean sets the towels on the nightstand beside the ice bucket. He leans across her and grabs the peroxide. "She wakes up, we get answers. 'Till then…" he tosses the cap, sits on the bed, grabs the first towel and starts on her face.
Sam runs both hands through his messy shag of hair and walks around to grab another towel, the ice bucket and dips it into the water.
They work silently and efficiently; Dean cleans the cuts and scrapes on her face, he manages to patch up her busted lip and then switches the peroxide for the ice bucket of dirty water. Sam takes the last clean towel and dabs at the scrapes on her legs now that he's wiped the dried mud off. Dean comes back with clean water and grabs the only towel left from the bunch he took out of the bathroom. He wipes the dried mud from her face careful to avoid her 'ouchies'. He's had enough time to admire her features; dark eyebrows softly arched. A peppering of freckles over the bridge of her nose. Full lips tinted a just kissed rosy shade and softly shaped like a heart… He wipes her arms clean and notices her hand slowly clench. The towel in his hand feels brittle, looking at it, he sees the mud flaking off the dry cotton.
"What…?" Dean frowns, he knows it was soaking wet, he places his hand on her arm but she doesn't feel hot - her skin is cool.
W
She feels lightheaded, tired, sore … She opens her eyes and focuses on the white ceiling, the lack of wet, musty air and the cold. She turns her head slightly, wincing at the muscles protesting.
"…careful-."
She pulls her legs towards her, hands in fists, arms instinctively moving to block as she tries to get up. It's not easy with both Winchesters trying to restrain her. Sam has both her legs, loses his grip on her left ankle and barely avoids the foot striking at him.
Dean grabs her wrists, "We're not gonna hurt you!" isn't helping to calm her. He doesn't notice the ice bucket tipping over on her until the water glides up her arm, covering the scrapes he can see smooth out as the water dissipates so there's pale smooth skin left in its wake.
She strikes out, her hand free and smacks her palm on his wrist.
"Get off!" she follows that with another kick but Sam doesn't let go. She grabs the ice bucket as her hand accidentally knocks it off the bed. The plastic whacks Dean hard upside his head, earning a curse. The ice bucket flies right at Sam's face, he has to let go of her to duck but it still smacks the top of his head.
"Damn it!" Dean takes a step back, his body blocking the door. "Look, we're not trying to hurt you."
But she doesn't believe them. They're not going to let her leave, she knows that,
But they don't know what she can do.
"We're trying to help you-." Sam scowls, yanking the pillow he got in the face and tosses it aside.
She grabs the lamp and throws that too, making her way around the bed, closer to the brothers and the door.
"Hey!" Dean puts his foot down, scowling at the girl throwing random shit at them. "Knock it off-!"
Sam grabs for her again, blocking the chair she tries to throw but its heavier than she's expecting and she's not at full strength. She can feel the little bit she had gained start to drain out of her.
"NO!" she struggles but they both have her restrained. "No!"
"Listen!" Dean grips her wrist, stopping the fist trying to hit him. "We stopped them. Those demons, they aren't coming after you-."
She laughs, her voice breaking, because they have no idea, they don't know what they're talking about. "Hunters." She sags in their arms, her breaths panting, but she knows that's exactly who they are. "You're all fools." She mutters, choking back on hysterical laughter.
"How…" Sam looks at Dean but his brother is staring at the girl.
Dean cups his hand on her face, touch gentle, he tilts her head back and smoothes dark strands out of the way. "Your face…" because the deep scrapes definitely look better than they should. The bright red, bloody scratches are healing and the bruise is all but gone.
"Water." She doesn't look away from Dean and doesn't struggle in Sam's grip. After a moment, Dean steps back, hands dropping to his sides. At Dean's slight nod, Sam lets go of her as well. She sways on her bare feet but slowly makes her way to the bathroom door.
"Dean…" Sam frowns, questioning with a look what their next move is. The water pours into the sink from the faucet and she dips both hands under. Again, Dean watches water glide up her bare arms, watches as it coats the raw scrapes he's only just cleaned.
Right before their eyes, she heals. Each bruise, scratch and blemish just smoothes away, disappearing as the water absorbs into her skin.
"What…?" Sam steps into the bathroom and quickly finds himself dropping to his knees. He can't breathe, hacking and coughing as struggling to get another breath.
"Sam!?" Dean grabs his brothers shoulder, looks at her but she's ignoring them both. "Sam!"
"..ca-!" he drags in a rattling breath but its not enough air and Sam hacks a glob of clear liquid.
"What did you do to him?" she looks at Dean, one hand still under the running water. "My dog."
"Wh-. Are you doing this?" he demands, glaring at her while trying to keep Sam from face planting on the linoleum floor. "Stop it!"
Sam leans back, his airway clear enough he can take in gulping breaths of air.
"Don't." she warns when Dean takes a step into the bathroom.
"I told you." Dean snaps. "We helped you."
She doesn't believe them. She keeps the water running, opening her palm as water pools and starts to take shape. She sees their expressions; awed, shocked, confused, guarded. Once the blade is completely formed, she closes her fingers around it, taking it out of the water.
"How did you do that?" Sam breathes, wide eyed at the stiletto shaped dagger that looks as though it's made of glass.
"Where?" she asks them again and by her tone, Dean knows she's not going to ask a third time.
"He took off." Dean pulls Sam out of the bathroom. "The mutt chewed a demon to dust-."
"Was he hurt?" she takes a step towards them. Dean notices the water in the faucet flows towards her and frowns; that's not normal. He's second guessing his decision to help her because she's not as helpless as he'd thought. Even with the threat of demons chasing her…
"No." Sam answers. "He just ran off…" he sees the quick flash of disappointment cross her features before she straightens her shoulders.
She points the water blade at them and walks into the room again. "Get out of my way."
"Fine." Dean backs off, arms crossed. "Go on." He jerks his chin towards the door she slowly backs towards.
"Wait." Sam stops his forward step and raises his hands, palms out. "We … I'm Sam-."
"Are you shitting me?" Dean scowls at his brother. He's been gagging on the bathroom floor thanks to her and whatever mojo she pulled. And now Sam is making introductions-
"What he said." She agrees, perplexed and suspicious.
"That's my brother, Dean." Sam ignores his brother. "We are; Hunters. And those demons-."
"Aren't the only ones." She cuts him off. "You have no idea what you're dealing with. And Hunters are the last thing I need."
The Winchesters look at each other; "What?"
W
Well, this is all I've managed to write down. And I'm working on figuring out the rest of this fic.
ideas?
i'm open to them...