Okay, here it is Chapter four. Hopefully I've gotten all the bugs out but if anybody notices anything off, just me know and I'll be sure to fix it.
(=^.^=)
"Hey Ally, wake up." Dean's voice shocked me from sleep. I swung my fist out to the left and he caught it. "Whoa, easing crouching tiger, geez. Now, that's a sure fire way to tell you're hunter, you attack first and ask questions later, even asleep. Damn."
He dropped my hand and I wondered when he had unlocked and released me from the cuffs. I rubbed the skin at my wrists, still sore but luckily the scabs from the rope previously were healing nicely. I looked out the Impala's window and glanced around. We were in the parking lot of a diner and the sun was starting to go down. We had driven the whole day.
I groaned and stretched in my seat, popping my neck and scrubbing my face with a hand. "What time is it?" I grumbled.
"Little after 7" He said cheerily. I looked at him as if he grew a second head. Since when did he do cheery? This guy was obviously a head-case.
"Where are we?" I didn't know the town and I grew angry at the thought that we had left my car, my baby, behind. Bastard! Asshole!
"Aw, you're making me feel all warm inside. But seriously, when was the last time you ate? 30 hours ago? 40? You need to eat something."
I looked back out at the diner and saw that it was packed. "Oh no, not just no but hell no."
"What?" he asked with a stupid, clueless look on his face that just screamed block headed male.
I gestured at my destroyed clothes. The jeans were practically shorts, covered in mud and blood, while the tank top was dirty and bloody. My feet were bare and my hair was a rat's nest. "There is no way I'm going in there looking like this. It's not happening Winchester." I denied stubbornly.
He groaned, "God, you are such a chick." He looked at me and saw that I wasn't budging. "Shit, fine. We'll go to the motel, clean up and then we'll get something to eat."
I nodded firmly. Shaking his head, he started the car and pulled away from the diner.
/
The bathroom was small but sufficient. I quickly stripped down to skin. The edge of a white bandage caught my attention in the mirror and leaned closer. It was on the back of my neck. Sweeping my hair to the side, I gently pulled the gauze away and winced but then gaped in surprise. The swirling Celtic knot brand had already healed to a shiny pink, raised scar.
"Fucking magic." I grumbled tossing the dirty bandage in the wastebasket and stepped into the shower. I sighed happily at the hot water coursing over my skin, washing away the dirt, grit, blood and sweat. I scrubbed until my skin was back to its normal, clean, white shade.
Stepping out of the shower, I dried my hair with the only towel provided and then wrapped i around my body. The small towel barely covered the vital bits. I looked at the dirty pile of clothes on the ground and balked at the idea of putting them on again. They didn't cover enough now anyway and even the bra was trashed.
My hair still damp, I tugged the towel tight on my body and bit my lip. What was I supposed to wear? A breath escaped me on a sigh before I turned to the door. I cracked it open and called out, "Winchester."
There wasn't a response. I grumbled. I knew he was there, I didn't feel any pain and I could somehow sense that he was close enough to be in the room.
"Winchester." Still nothing. I growled and stepped from the bathroom. The carpet was rough under my toes as I walked out. Dean was lying on the bed, arm thrown over his eyes, apparently sleeping.
"Hey, asshole!" I smacked his leg. He moved his arm from his face and looked up at me affronted. "I need clothes man. Mine are not gonna cut it and I wasn't able to bring anything of mine with me thanks to you." I tried to ignore the way his gaze darkened and his green orbs made a path up and down my wet, almost nude body. I kept one hand clenched at the top of the towel and planted the other on my hip and cocked it to the side, attitude was always the first defense.
"Well." I demanded shortly. It was his fault I didn't have any clothes and I wasn't happy about it at all.
He sat up abruptly and I stumbled backwards. He rose and walked past me to one of his duffle bags. He rifled through it for a moment and pulled out a wad of fabric and tossed it to me. I caught it hastily, thanking every deity I knew when my towel didn't fall. I looked down at the cloth and frowned.
I looked back up at him. "These are yours."
"Yeah so?"
I go to protest but he interrupted me. "It's all I got, so suck it up sweetheart. Hurry up and get dressed, I'm starved. We'll get you some of your own clothes later."
I scowled and grumbled but went into the bathroom to get changed anyway. The lack of underwear frustrated me and the jeans were to big, riding low on my hips, held up solely by my ass. I pulled out the shirt. It was a black v-neck and when I pulled it on I scowled harder. The shirt was male cut, not made for someone with a large bust which I had. The shirt was pulled tight on my chest while the collar dipped low and showed way too much cleavage, making it clear that, while my breasts were high and (god I hated the word but it was true) perky, I wasn't wearing a bra. My shoulders were significantly smaller than his so the collar also kept slipping off one shoulder. The shirt clung to my chest but grew loose at my waist. It was irritating.
I stormed out of the bathroom and gave a growled, "I can't wear these, they don't fit."
Dean's back was to me and he gave an irritated sigh. "It's not like I carry chick clothes around with me. The jeans are a pair of my old ones and they're the smallest I have. The shirt shrunk really bad in the dryer and you're lucky I had that…" His words trailed off as he turned around looked at me.
He just stared, mouth open. I looked at him, wary.
"What?" he doesn't answer.
Shit shit fuck. Huh? That was Dean's voice but his mouth hadn't moved. I heard the words repeat in my mind and realized with widened eyes that I was hearing his thoughts. They were distant and choppy sounding by I heard them. I felt like whining and stomping my foot. This was like an extremely clichéd soap opera starring demons and magic.
His next thoughts were clear as crystal in my ears: DamnFuckSheishotCantellshe'snotwearingabraHowcansomeonelooksexyinclothesthatson'tevenfitHowisthatpossibleLovethefactshe'swearingmyclothes
WhyisthatDoesn'tmatterSheisfuckinghotJustwanttobendheroverand-
"Gah. Enough! Quit thinking geez." I yelled clapping my hands over my ears. I seriously did not need to hear this or feel it. With his thoughts came a rush of emotions and they nearly threw me to my knees at their intensity when they rushed through me. Arousal, lust, territorial possessiveness, pure male satisfaction and then arousal again. It made me very uncomfortable and I could sense that feeling travel to him and his muscled body stiffened in surprise. He stepped up to me quickly, crowding me and looking down at me.
"You can hear me? You just heard what I thought didn't you?" He was awed.
I shook my head violently, not trusting my voice. He grinned feral.
"Liar." He breathed. He was excited, in more ways than one and the thoughts that I could hear brought a red blush to my cheeks. I stumbled backwards and cleared my throat.
"Uh, um. Food remember, let's go." I practically fled out the door and slammed it shut behind me before leaning against it to quell my growing panic. What had just happened?
/
The drive from the motel was tense. Dean's thoughts were still beating against my head though I fought to keep them out. Finally I cranked up the stereo as Ioud as I could bear in effort to drown him out. He smirked, knowing what I was doing.
We finally parked and I fled the confines of the Impala. I stood on the wet ground and fought not to shiver as my bare feet slowly went numb. I had been given a blue and green plaid, long sleeve button up but it didn't do much to keep me warm. It annoyed me when I had found that some of the buttons were missing from the shirt so I couldn't button it up all the way to cover the cleavage shown by the shirt underneath. (I skillfully avoided the fact that I could smell him on the clothes; laundry soap, gunpowder, leather and a musk that seemed to belong solely to him). Dean got out of the car at a much calmer pace and approached me. I was relieved to find that I could no longer hear what he was thinking or feeling. He held something up in his hands and I was surprised to see my hunting boots. I looked at him questioningly and he simply shrugged in response.
I couldn't help the grin that broke out on my face, happy to have something that was mine. I gently took them from him, careful not to touch him and set my boots on the ground. I bent over at the waist to slip them on and lace them up. Suddenly a thought broke into my mind. (I was starting to recognize the feel and sound of his thoughts as opposed to my own. They felt like him and sounded like him. It was difficult to describe).
AwesomerackCuteasstooGoodthingIkeptthosebootsShit.
My cheeks flared in a blush again as I realized that my breasts were barely concealed by the shirt as I bent over and I stood hastily, shoving him out of my mind as best I could. I turned away and came up short, instead of the diner from earlier, we were at a bar. I frowned at him and he shrugged.
"I need a drink." He explained as he started to walk to the entrance. I felt frustration run through me. The bar was a complete dive, obviously packed for the night time crowd and he wanted me to go in there dressed like this? Urgh. I grumbled for a second before walking after him, my empty stomach impossible to ignore now.
We stepped inside the building, greeted by smoke, music and the scent of alcohol. He led me to a table in the corner and I gently tugged the jeans up where they were riding low. I felt eyes on me but I ignored them. I hated bars, hated them. The men always stared at me like a piece of meat while the females mentally strangled me, not there were many females here anyway. My brightly colored hair always drew attention and then they would see my boobs. The only way I have been able to get them to look away was by showing off the piece I usually had on me but my gun was gone and I was nervous.
We sat down at the table. I kept my distance from him. He had shown me more human emotion than I had ever seen from a demon but he was still a demon and I didn't trust him as far as I could throw him. A waitress approached and smiled, eyes sexing Dean up before asking us if we'd like to order something.
"A double cheeseburger with barbeque sauce and pickles, extra fries and an un-open can of Dr. Pepper please." I was starving and I did not feel like waiting for this waitress to get done eye-fucking Dean.
Dean ordered the same but with a beer. The waitress walked away and he looked at me with an eyebrow raised.
"What?" I demanded.
"You come to a bar and you order soda. Really?" His tone was mildly insulting but I just shrugged.
"Don't drink alcohol." I replied. His eyes widened comically as if that were really hard to believe.
"Every hunter I've ever met is some form of functioning drunk or alcoholic and you don't even drink beer?"
I flinched slightly at the word functioning before saying, "I don't drink any kind of alcohol, ever. I don't like the way it dulls my reflexes." Mostly the truth, I actually just didn't have a high tolerance for it, two beers and I was buzzed, three and I couldn't walk straight.
He shrugged and sat up straighter when he saw the food coming. We both dug in. I had never tasted anything so good in my life, everything down to the stale bread was perfect and I didn't raise my head again until my plate was cleared. I wiped my hands on the napkin beside me while Dean kept eating. The bar was bustling with people; bikers, construction workers and all around seedy guys that I would have preferred to avoid. The only females were me and a couple waitresses. A Bon Jovi song cranked out from a painfully old sound system while billiard balls clacked and patrons laughed. Eyes were burning across my skin and I covertly searched for their source, quickly finding it and groaning inwardly. A table of rowdy males sat across the room from us and more than one was staring at me with drunken lust. The most obvious one was a large, barrel chested guy with a dark beard and bald head. His gaze made my skin crawl and quickly turned my eyes away to find Dean looking at me. For once he didn't have a smirk, he just looked at me.
His plate was empty so I cleared my throat, "Let's go Winchester, I'm tired." I knew I sounded rude but I didn't care. I was nervous and anxious. The tight confines of the bar were starting to make me feel claustrophobic and I just wanted to escape.
"Alright alright," He slapped some money on the table and stood up. "Just let me grab a beer for the road first."
"Fine." I followed him as he started walking to the bar but nearly drew up short. We were going to have to pass the table with the guys that had been eye-raping me since we got here. I groaned but drew myself up and looked pointedly ahead at Dean's broad shoulders.
We were passing the table and I thought I would be in the clear but then a hand came down on my ass with a sharp smack and I hissed in pain and anger.
"Hey baby, why don't you come over and join us." It was the big guy with the bald head. I could hear his buddies laughing.
"No thanks," I rapped out. I tried to keep moving but a large, meaty hand darted out to grab my wrist and pulled me back so I was facing them.
"Aw come on honey, don't be like that. We'll show you a good time I promise." His breath smelled of beer and cigars making me want to gag.
"I said no." I insisted, pulling my wrist away and took a few steps back but then I met with a hard chest. I turned my head up and saw Dean. It showed just how fucking nervous I was that he seemed the better option compared to these human dick bags.
"Everything okay here?" he asked easily.
Before I could respond, one of the other guys piped up, "Step off pretty boy, she's ours."
I snapped, "I don't belong to anyone!"
The first guy who I was quickly realizing was the leader of this group leered at me, "Just wait until I get my dick in you baby, then you'll be screaming who you belong to for the whole world to hear."
I pushed down the bile revulsion that threatened to crawl up my throat. Then I felt Dean's chest rumble with a growl and I turned to look at him. From his mind I could feel the waves of murderous intent and possessiveness that was rolling off him, his eyes were black, teeth bared in a snarl. Shit, he was going to massacre the lot of them if I didn't do something.
"Winchester," I started but he stepped forward, eyes above my head, glaring at the men behind me. I hesitated for a moment before placing my hand on his chest, "Winchester, stop, it's not worth it." I could see in his mind that he wasn't hearing me; his mind had been takin over by black rage, dark and terrifying. His hand itched to the inside of his jacket where I knew he had the First Blade.
I shoved at his chest before reaching up with both hands, placing them on either side of his face and pulled his head down to meet his eyes. They were still black and they sent fear through me but I didn't let go.
"Dean," I implored firmly. It was the first time I had said his name out loud, I had been making it a point to only call him Winchester but I had to get him to stop before he went wrathful demon on these douche bags. "Stop, okay, just stop. They are not worth it." My eyes bored into his and I didn't dare to blink. I could hear his thoughts rushing through my head.
WantNeedtokillMineSheismineTheytouchedherMineKillthemRipthemapartDestroythemShesaidmynameShefinallysaiditWanthertokeepsayingitMineTheytouchedherKillKillKillKill
The anger inside just kept building his thoughts de-evolving into something primal, intent on destroying and killing. I cringed inwardly but acted on my first instinct which was to distract him. I pressed my lips to his and his boiling thoughts stuttered to a stop. His shoulders slackened and his eyes switched back to green. I drew back and he looked down at me, I felt the urge within him to snatch me back but I simply shoved his chest.
"Let's go Dean, come on move." He didn't move for a moment but then he did, he turned around slowly and started walking away. I sighed in relief. About to follow, I was grabbed from behind and jerked backwards into another body, a voice laughed in my ear and a rough hand reached down to grab my breast in a bruising grip. I cried out from the pain. Dean had already swung back around and was stalking towards the table, hand drawing the Blade but I didn't care.
I had been kidnapped, beaten, met a demon and the King of Hell, bound to said demon by said King, dragged across several towns, lost my car, lost my clothes and now I was being groped by some filthy pig in a bar. I lost it, my control snapped. I lifted my leg and swung it back, landing a hard blow to the guy's knee before planting a sharp elbow to his ribs. He released me with a yell of pain. I turned to face him and drew my arm back. I didn't restrain myself or temper the force of the blow as I sent a fist beneath his chin, crushing his throat and swinging my leg up and in between his legs. The guy was on the ground before Dean even reached me.
The pig's buddies were shooting up from their seats yelling and half a dozen of them rushed me. I turned eagerly to meet them and Dean was at my side, Blade at the ready. Our thoughts were freakily in sync, eager and bloodthirsty, bouncing off each other; our emotions kept hitting each other before rebounding and multiplying, drowning our minds in eager bloodlust and violence. I couldn't think so I didn't. We fought. The men fell before us, broken bleeding, some dead. I didn't think, I just let years of training take over and I fought. I didn't think about the fact they were humans, I didn't think about the fact that I was fighting side by side with a demon who had an insane grin stretching his lips, I didn't think about the fact that I had a matching grin on mine.
Other bar patrons attacked us and we took them down too, Dean was laughing with every person that fell and I was simply snarling but otherwise silent. My knuckles had split from the repeated blows but I put it to the side. A lucky hit busted my lip; I broke the guy's arm and then his sternum.
Finally, I looked up to find there wasn't anyone left. The blood haze filtered from my brain and I looked around, breathing hard. Men were strewn on the floor, on broken tables and I had a broken pool stick in my hand. It was slick with blood. I dropped it quickly as if it had burned my hand. A handful of waitresses were in the corner crying and whimpering. I looked down at my body. My clothes were covered in blood and glass. Slowly, my head came up and my eyes found my reflection in a cracked mirror behind the bar.
Blood trickled from my split lip, my eyes were bright, my cheeks were splashed with crimson blood that wasn't mine, the vibrant color warring with the bright, pale white of my skin. My hair was twisted and wild, the ends blood soaked. I looked like a monster. A glass clinking drew me slowly around. Behind me at a table sat Dean and Crowley. Crowley had a glass of amber liquid and Dean held a beer bottle in one hand while the other held the First Blade where it rested on the top of his leg, caked in blood. He was bloodied as well, drops of red that weren't his own, eyes still black and he was just smiling. I swallowed hard and my body began to tremble. How long had they sat there? How long had they had a front row seat to me losing my humanity, even if it was temporary, and going postal on a bar-full of humans? They had just sat back and watched?
Crowley lifted is glass up and toasted me, "Brilliant show love."
"Mmhmm," Dean agreed. "If I didn't know better," he said, leaning forward and eyes glossy and pitch, "I'd say that you had been enjoying yourself." He sat back and took a sip of his beer. "And you call me a demon."
My foot stepped backwards and involuntary whisper fell from my lips, "No." I said it firmer, louder, "No. I didn't mean-"
"Yes you did," Dean interjected. "You meant it, you enjoyed it, you loved it. I could see and feel it all. You've never let go and allowed yourself to just revel in the fight. Always so tightly controlled and you finally let go tonight. All that's missing are the black eyes." He smirked and I felt something inside me quake. I knew he could hear my thoughts but it didn't matter. I hadn't wanted any of this but it felt good to just let loose. For so long I had controlled myself, kept my bloodlust on a tight leash and in one night it had snapped. I could blame Dean, blame the bond but it would be a lie. I'd always felt the anger and eagerness to kill, the bond had just made it easy to let go.
I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes but I could still see the blood. My body folded in on itself, curling forward slightly and a silent sob racked my body. Pure satisfaction at seeing me like this enveloped my mind, sent by Dean. My body snapped up straight and I looked him in the eye.
"Fuck you Winchester and damn you Crowley," My voice was clear and cold. I spun around and sprinted to the door, careful not slip on the puddles of blood under foot.
"What did I do?" Crowley asked Dean and in my mind I felt Dean shrug his shoulders.
I pushed myself out the door and into the cold night. Where was I going? I couldn't go far from him but in that moment all I wanted to do was get away. An alley beside the bar came up on my right and I ducked into it, I was close enough to him that I didn't feel pain but I was hidden for the moment.
A dumpster rested half way down the alley. I pressed my back against the wall and slid down to the ground. The faces of the humans I had just killed swam before my eyes and I whimpered. I sat back on my heels, my knees drawn up to my chest. I folded my arms on top and pressed my face into them. More sobs shook my body and my chest felt tight. What had I done? There's always been blood on my hands; my brother's, my first and only team's but it wasn't much because I hadn't directly killed them. A smudge of red here and there, easily atoned for after years of killing monsters and saving people. But now. Now my hands were red, soaked in blood, dripping the stuff and it wouldn't come off, I knew that no matter what I did, it would never come off.
/
I'm not sure how long I crouched in that alley, sobbing and rocking but soon I heard the bar door open and close. I ignored it. I ignored the footsteps that walked down the alley towards me, I ignored it when they stopped in front of where I sat. Strong hands grasped my wrists and pulled them away from my face. I fought to keep them there stubbornly but I wasn't strong enough, story of my life, never strong enough. They were pulled away and held back. I looked up to see Dean Winchester's green eyes. They were staring deeply into mine and his face held something. Not smugness or pity but not apology either. What was it?
The answer came directly from his head. Compassion, sympathy, and understanding were what he was feeling, understanding, for me. I bowed my head forward and cried silently. I couldn't meet his eyes. I felt weak and horrible to the point that I couldn't even meet the eyes of a demon. I should have been stronger, I should have been able to hold on and stay human but I couldn't. I was now no better than the monsters I hunted. Shame swelled within my mind
"Ally, you need to stop. What you did was natural. They touched what wasn't theirs and they paid for it, you have nothing to feel guilty about." His voice was firm. I didn't think about what he meant, about not being theirs, as if I already belonged to someone else.
I choked out a humorless laugh. The refusal to listen and believe him was plain in my mind and I knew he saw it.
"It's true, they were scum who didn't deserve to live. Nothing is wrong with what you did. Just accept it."
I just kept my head down and cried silently. My life had gone to shit. I had been living an honorable life, killing monsters and protecting people but now here I was. I had just killed over a dozen humans and was being comforted by a demon. How was this fair?
"It isn't," he whispered, his lips right by my ear. "It isn't fair, it isn't your fault."
Whose was it then, who had done this? I knew it was because I was a prophet. Who decided that I had to be this? Who had fucked up my life so royally that I had given up my humanity even for a brief second? I felt anger at myself and at those who did this. I knew I was to blame for killing those men but I wasn't to blame for being a prophet which had led to me being a demon's bitch. Dean's mind jumped and lingered, caressing what I had just thought, confirming it in his mind. His bitch.
"It's their fault. The angels, Heaven. They did this to you, to both of us. They can't fight their own battles so we are made to fight for them."
I tried to deny it. No one, least of all Heaven, would notice me. I tried so hard to fly under the radar, to not be seen but they saw me anyway. They took my life from me and twisted it for their own benefit. My shoulders shook but this time it was with fury, not tears, fury at those who caused this to happen.
"Let it out, let them hear it. Let them know you aren't their plaything, tell them you won't do what they want, tell them! Scream it! Howl it to the moon!" He ordered me, sitting back and squeezing my wrists tighter.
A pain-filled scream ripped from my throat as I threw my head down and clenched my eyes shut. The sound wasn't human, so filled with anguish and rage that it morphed into something unnatural and I let it out. They would know, know that I was coming and I would kill them.
Dean's mind thrummed with mine and encouraged my black thoughts, wrapping around them and merging them with his own. The bond between us was difficult and confusing and while I seemed to have no say or control in it, he was quickly learning how use it and make it stronger. How long? How long until I no longer knew the difference between him and me?
