Ok! I finally figured out where I want to go with some of this normal 'Tate-drama' crap. Its slowly working itself out. Like this chapter, yeah, this didn't exist until three this afternoon since I spent most of the morning trying to figure out exactly what the hell is going on. That and I'm trying to set things up for a next story. Yes, moan and groan, more Tate. Anyways, after this chapter and probably the next, the creepy will really start to kick in and there will, as always, be more Tate/Dean drama because...well thats fun to write. I'm rambling, so I'll stop and let you guys read this. I hope you all like it. Keep reading, putting up with my crazyness and reviewing. --B.E.
Chapter 9-Stumbling Blocks
The waves lapped up at her with tremendous speed, each salt-water filled crest hitting her harder than the one before it and attempted in vain to knock her backwards into the surf so the vicious waters could take her back with them. But it failed, no matter how hard each wave tried; she kept them at bay with a powerful gust of wind. The barrier of air kept her safe and protected from each new onslaught of the older than time power the ocean held in its grasp. Out in the dark waters came a plume of water, like the spout from a whale, and on the very top sat the figure of a woman; beautiful in the darkness and shimmered in the moonlight cast down upon her. Her raven colored hair spilled down over bare tanned shoulders and depthless aqua colored eyes looked out onto the dark and growing more and more violent waters. Her water tinted eyes looked toward the shore and smiled. In a tongue older than the waves she was seated upon, the water went back to its tranquil and sometimes eerie stillness and flattened out like a black silk sheet pulled taunt over a mattress.
"You are quite powerful Little One. Strong enough to stave off my waves but not that strong. I can still worm my way into your mind. Poor child, so much sadness and despair. You and I are quite similar; a mermaid and the bastard child of an Angel and a Fate. I grant wishes and protect the one who loves me, you do the same. We both lost the men we loved or you will loose him soon and it will be by your own hand, just like mine was. We're not that different, remember that Little One."
Tate opened her eyes slowly, looking up at a white ceiling with a paddle fan slowly churning a cool breeze above her and pressed the heel of her hands into her eyes; scrubbing the sleep away.
"That was…interesting." She muttered, thinking back to her dream for a quick second. Turning over, after nearly falling off the couch and catching herself, she realized she had fallen asleep in her mother's living room and took a deep breath. She must've passed out after coming back home from Larkin's Island. Getting up off the couch, Tate carefully padded into the kitchen as she raked a hand through her snarled hair and found her mom and Fancy sitting at the counter.
"Oh look! Sleeping Beauty, she wakes." Fancy said, bringing her bottle of water up to her lips.
"Choke. Why'd you let me sleep out there? I hate sleeping on couches."
"Picky, picky. We tried to wake you up but you just wouldn't and Dean didn't want to move you, so we left you. Grape?" Fancy asked, shoving a handful of the small green fruit at her. Plucking a few off the stems, Tate hopped up on the counter and looked at her mother.
"How are you?" Serena asked casually as she sipped some iced tea from her glass.
"Fine, why?"
"Just asking, Dean said something to me before." Tate rolled her eyes as she popped a grape into her mouth and began dreading waking up.
"What did he say?"
"Something about you two."
"Ya know, I may be a reporter by trade but I do not like digging for information, just tell me."
"He said something about you two drifting apart. I have no idea what he's talking about, I told him he's crazy and that you two are perfect for one another. But he had to have the last word, telling me there was something wrong, boy's a fighter. I remember him like that when he was small, brat." Serena said with a soft smile as she toyed with the grape stem; Tate could almost feel the far away sad look in her mother's eyes. Thinking of Sam and Dean when they were younger meant thinking about Mary and Garrett; Serena still hadn't made amends with either death and Tate knew that. "He said he felt something coming in between you two, like a wedge and you're getting distant again. What does he mean by again? Tatum? Have you walked out before? Tate, I hope your father and I taught you better than that. You can't run away. What is he talking about? He seemed upset." Tate looked up and shrugged.
"Dunno. He's nuts." Tate told her mother as she gracefully slipped down off the counter, pulled open the fridge and took out a cold Corona.
"Tate, those are Ran…" Before Serena could finish, Tate had the top of the beer popped and was heading out onto the deck. Pulling down more of the beer, Tate's eyes glanced at the horizon and she felt her dream starting to come back to her.
"We both lost the men we loved…" She felt it brush against her thoughts and for a minute, wished she had never come down here. Wished she had never run away when she was younger, maybe she and Dean wouldn't have the problems they did if she had stayed. Maybe she would've found her mother sooner and she'd be normal, somewhat, and her and her father would have a better relationship.
"Well, you've screwed something else up." She muttered as she took another pull from the bottle.
"Tate?" Hearing Fancy's voice, she turned and looked at her friend, flashing her weak grin.
"Yeah?"
"Maybe you should tell Dean now? I mean, if he feels something going on, he might know."
"He doesn't know, believe me."
"Maybe he should."
"I don't even know where he is."
"Down at the dock with Randy and Sam, he wanted to see the boat's engine." Tate smiled the smile that only Dean normally saw and rolled her eyes.
"Typical male. But what do I say? 'Oh yeah Dean you're right there is something coming between us, it's just the small fact that I'm going to die by the end of this hunt. My mom's ordering pizza by the way.' Umh…yeah, no. Sorry. That won't work."
"Just talk to him." Fancy grasped Tate by the elbow and led her over to the porch steps that went all the way down to the sand below. "Go!" Tate tugged her arm away and slowly walked down to the shore where Randy had moored the boat. He had built himself a small dock right off the shoreline and tied his boat to one of the posts down there. Leaning against the railing, Tate crossed her arms over her chest and watched the three men on the boat. Randy was talking about something that was holding both of their attentions, pointing and getting very excited as he showed them both something on the steering wheel.
"I can't be here much longer; I don't want to die with them around. I can't do it. They're too happy, it'll ruin everything.I have to run." She muttered, watching as Sam mirrored something Randy had shown him a few seconds before and Tate jumped when the boat's engine roared to life. Over the loud noise she could hear Sam laugh as Dean practically cooed at the noise like a baby did when you shook a rattle at it. Smiling again, she had been doing that way too much for someone who was bound to die, Tate walked over to the off board ladder that led up to the boat and slowly scaled it. Standing on the top rung, she looked over the deck and whistled, getting Dean's head to whip around.
"Hey baby." Dean said with a smile as he wiped something off his hands and onto a rag Randy had on the boat.
"Hey Captain, Randy can I steal him away from you for a second?" She asked, looking at her step father. Randy was just as amazed of their relationship just like everyone else was when they learned about it. He had been told all about what they did and Tate's 'second job'. It still amazed him to know that even after the way both of them, all three of them really, had grown up, the relationships they had with each other were the most normal thing about them.
"Yeah, I think Sam and I can manage without him for a little while. Not too long huh Tate? No woman stuff."
"I'll try. C'mon, I gotta talk to you." Sam looked over to her and his eyes said it all; he knew what she was up to. Nodding at him, at her 'little brother', she slid back down to the dock and once Dean was there, threw herself into his arms. No matter how much she denied it or where she dropped her bags, Dean was home. He was warm, kept her safe and even smelt like what she imaged home to be; gun powder, his leather jacket, vinyl from the Impala, soap, deodorant, mint just like the annoying gum he'd snap when they were in the car and her and Sam had vetoed the rest of his tape collection, there was something that could've been cologne and there was always something she could never figure out, something that every time she caught a whiff of it she thought Dean right away. Whatever it was, it was warm, spicy, leathery and just so damn unidentifiable she had a long time ago given up naming it and just called it Dean.
Feeling a hand thread through her hair, Tate looked up from where she had buried her face in his chest and saw Dean looking down at her. He had that weird look on his face; a cross between concerned and freaked out, it was the one she usually got when she did something 'girlfriend-ish'. Laughing, she pushed him backwards and walked off the dock.
"Where are you going? I thought you wanted to talk to me?"
"In private, dumb ass."
"Oh. In private, like our bedroom private?" He asked, catching up to her and looping an arm around her waist. Looking up at him again, she laughed when he cocked an eye brow at her. "Am I right? That kind of private?"
"Sorta, the kind of private where they can't hear us, but not that kind of private where we'll scream if Sam walks in."
"So, we're really just talking."
"Afraid so."
"Damn."
"I knew you'd say that." Tate smiled when he stopped and pulled her close enough so he could drop his chin onto her head. He was always so damn close to her, always in her space and part of her couldn't get enough of it. She'd miss this.
"So what are we talking about?"
"What you talked to my mom about." Dean bit one side of his lip and looked down at the sand below them, as if the tiny grains were that interesting.
"…Oh, that."
"Yeah that. What's coming between us? What do you feel? I don't need Sammy the Psychic to tell me there's something wrong with you." Tate's long fingers uncurled as she pressed her palm flat against Dean's chest.
"Nothing's wrong…I dunno."
"Dunno what? You gotta give me more than that Dean. We're almost twenty nine years old, we should be able to handle these problems, and I really don't want to pack up my shit and run again. I can't afford to do that. I don't want to do that again." 'But if me and Sam can't fix this in time and I do die, who's gonna fix me and Dean? I've run so many times, where will he run if I go?' She thought as she tugged at his necklace. Somewhere in her mind, she figured if she held onto that necklace long enough, like a lifeline, she'd be safe and maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to tell him about the vision.
"No, you can't run and I know, we need to fix all of this. It was bound to happen anyways, this fucking conversation. I don't know, it feels like there's something in between us, something…dunno, maybe you know it, and you're not telling me." There it was, her opening, she had him right where she wanted him; she could just tell him. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him and just as she went to open her mouth, Dani appeared on the porch behind them.
"TATE!" Dani's voice carried across the sand and crashed into Tate's ears like a freight train, even Dean jumped.
"Yeah?!"
"Your cell phone."
"Did you pick it up?"
"Yeah, some guy named Jackson." Tate held up a finger and watched Dani bring her cell phone back up to her ear; telling Jackson she'd be right there.
"I swear….Dean, can we finish this later?"
"After we see what Jackson wants. Maybe he knows more."
"Lets pray he does." She muttered as she took off toward the porch. When she walked into the house, she saw Fancy and gave her a sad smile; it said it all, she hadn't told Dean and was no where closer to telling him.
Somewhere off in the distance, a few miles away from Larkin's Island, lightning streaked over head, thunder rolled, the waves picked up and something amongst the clouds cackled. In the living room, Tate's head snapped back toward the slider and swore she heard the laughing as she looked at the slow moving dark thunder heads.