Reality
Chapter 10: Normalcy
Blake looked up from her newspaper when Dean walked into the kitchen. She hadn't been able to sleep, so she was doing the next best thing, looking for a case to work. She was hoping that after the car wreck a case would help them get back to a sense of normalcy. Dean had been tiptoeing around her lately. She was half afraid that he wouldn't let her go on a hunt at all and demand she stay at the bunker to help with the research side of things. She was hoping that wasn't going to be the case. He poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, looking at her. She had to look away. All she could think about was getting him out of those damn clothes and into a bed. They'd only slept together the once, and Dean had kept the touching down to a bare minimum afterwards, but Blake couldn't help it. She wanted Dean. The only problem was that she was sure there were other feelings that went along with it. She just didn't want to think about it.
"I think I found a case," she said, hoping to distract her hormones with work.
Dean walked around the counter and sat at the table with her. "What kind of a case?" he asked.
She set the paper down, pointing to the article. "Muldrow, Oklahoma. Monday one Mr. Donald Keith was found dead inside of his home, burned to a crisp. The house wasn't damaged; there was no sign of a struggle, no sign of any foul play. The authorities are saying he spontaneously combusted in his living room." She sat back, taking a drink of her own coffee. "It may be nothing, but it caught my eye."
He nodded his head, reading over the article himself. "It's worth checking out at least." He sighed and tossed the paper down. "It's at least a seven hour drive to Muldrow. Why don't you go pack up, I'll get Sammy and we can get breakfast on the road."
Blake nodded and finished her coffee. She rinsed out the mug as Dean walked out of the kitchen. At least he was letting her go with them, so that was something. She headed to her room, passing Dean coming out of Sam's. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, watching him disappear into his room. For all she knew he'd tell her she wasn't allowed to leave the motel room. Although, to be fair, the last time he'd told her that she'd been grabbed by a ghost.
She grabbed her bag out of the closet and started putting clothes in it. Blake didn't know what she was going to do when it was time for her to leave the nest. She could feel it was getting close. She'd already learned a lot from the boys. She had a feeling Dean wanted to find out who'd been following her before he turned her out. She was going to miss them that was for sure.
After she'd packed up everything she thought she would need, Blake walked out of her room, closing the door behind her. Sam was coming out of his room. He put his arm around her shoulders, bracing his weight on her. "Oof, Sam, c'mon you're not the little one."
He chuckled and took his weight back, keeping his arm around her shoulders. "Dean can carry me," he pointed out.
"Yeah, when he's got some sick adrenaline running through him." She leaned her head on his chest as they walked into the library. Dean was already in there, double checking his bag. "Ready to go sunshine?"
He looked over at them and shook his head. "We're going on a hunt, not a vacation."
"Aren't they the same thing for us?" Blake smiled sweetly and headed up the stairs. Dean rolled his eyes and followed with Sam. They climbed into the car and Dean carefully backed out of the garage. Blake pulled her legs under her in the backseat, sitting in the middle, and leaned forward. "So, what do you think it is?" she asked.
"Well, the last time we had a case with spontaneous combustion we were dealing with Nazi necromancers. Unless our victim was Jewish, my money is on a witch." Dean looked back at her as he drove.
She nodded her head. "That's what I was thinking. But, it could be a demon…or you know, an angel was possessing someone and went up in holy fire."
"Why would you even go there?"
Blake shrugged. "I told you, I watch the show. It wouldn't be the first time an angel burned in holy fire." She sat back a little. "But you're probably right, it's just a witch. But that begs the question, why did they light this guy on fire?"
"Hard telling. Witches are crazy." Dean pulled up to a gas station to fuel up. Blake climbed out and headed inside. He looked at Sam. "Go with her."
Sam rolled his eyes. "It's just a gas station, Dean." But he climbed out of the car and followed Blake inside.
She looked at Sam as she grabbed a basket and started filling it with food and drinks. "He's never going to let me go anywhere alone again, is he?" she asked. She made sure to get Dean some pie.
Sam sighed, grabbing some protein bars. "Probably not."
Blake shook her head and looked through the aisles. It was sweet that Dean cared so much. It really was. But if he couldn't trust her to go into a gas station alone, they were going to have problems. Once her basket was full and she figured they had enough to hold them over on the seven hour drive she walked over to the counter and set the basket down. Sam pulled out his card to pay. She leaned on the counter and looked around at the impulse buys lined up attractively alongside the register. The newspaper caught her eye. "This too," she said, handing it to the cashier.
He handed it back to her instead of putting it in the bag. She let Sam grab the bag as she walked out of the store, reading over the article that had caught her eye. "What is it?" Sam asked.
"There was another killing." She looked up at him. "A woman spontaneously combusted in her apartment at three in the morning. Nothing but the bed she was sleeping in was damaged."
Sam frowned and read the article over her shoulder. "We need to hurry."
They walked back to the car. Sam climbed in. Blake walked to the back and leaned against the trunk beside Dean. "There was another murder last night," she said, handing him the paper. "Elizabeth Rogers." She took the pump out when it clicked, signaling Baby was full and put it back.
Dean sighed and tossed the paper into the backseat through the window. "Let's go."
xXx
Blake rolled her head on her neck. Sam was back at the motel, digging up everything he could on their two victims. She and Dean were outside of the first crime scene, dressed in their FBI attire. Unfortunately, Blake was wearing her skirt. Her pants had torn the last time they'd had to wear them and she hadn't had a chance to replace them. She climbed out of the car and headed inside, Dean right behind her. "So, we're looking for hex bags, EMF, or sulfur, right?"
He nodded. "Yeah, those are the three big ones. Sam said neither one of them had any ties to the necromancers that he could find." Dean bent to pick the lock and sighed. "I hate doing this."
She crossed her arms and smiled. "Sorry, the skirt means I can't bend down."
Dean glanced at her legs and bit his lip, trying to focus on picking the lock to Donald's house. He swore she was trying to kill him. He'd seen her come out of the bathroom in the skirt. He'd nearly had a heart attack. Her legs were smooth and he could see the toned muscles flex as she walked to the bed and sat to put her heels on. Images of a naughty secretary or librarian popped into his head. All he'd wanted to do was bend her over the damn table and have his way with her.
As soon as this case was over, he was taking her shopping. She was getting more damn pants.
He finally got the lock picked and stood back up, slipping the kit back into his pocket. Blake walked in a head of him and he had to make it a point not to watch the way her perfect ass moved in the tight skirt. She flicked on the EMF reader and made her way through the house. Dean figured she could handle it, and he was in the house with her. He was going to look for hex bags. Anything to stay away from her and that damn skirt.
He started flipping cushions and moving furniture in the living room. They worked their way around the house. Dean sighed when they met back in the living room. "That's it, no sulfur, no EMF, no hex bags." He ran a hand through his hair and looked around. Maybe they'd missed something.
Blake sighed. "I want to take a lap around the house, I'll meet you back at the car." She walked outside. Dean rubbed his face. So they weren't dealing with a witch, a demon, or a ghost. That much they knew. And nothing was pointing towards necromancers. So what the hell were they up against? He sighed and walked out to the car, shrugging out of his suit jacket and tossing it into the back seat. Hopefully Sam had better luck at the motel.
He leaned against the car and looked back at the house, waiting for Blake. He started to get antsy when she didn't come back. "Son of a bitch." He took off running towards the back of the house. "Blake?" he called out.
"Over here." He looked over. She was climbing out of some bushes on the back of the property. "I think I found something." She was holding a gas can and a book of matches. "I don't think we're dealing with anything supernatural, just some messed up person."
Dean took the gas can from her and looked it over. No sulfur. He sighed and tossed it back behind the bushes. "And the cops over looked this?" He shook his head. "That's why we get paid the big bucks. Let's go back to the motel, see what Sam found."
Blake nodded and followed Dean back to the car. "We should swing by Elizabeth's and look around."
He sighed. "I guess." He turned around and headed to the second victim's house. "What I can't figure out is why a human is going around killing people."
"They're call psychopaths for a reason." She ran a hand through her hair, he caught a scent of her mango shampoo and crossed one leg over the other. Dean noticed the way her skirt rode up. Son of a bitch, she was trying to kill him. He couldn't take it anymore.
He pulled off the road and parked behind some trees. "Okay, you've got to stop."
"Stop what?" she asked, looking at him. "What's your problem?"
"You with the hair and the skirt and the heels!" He shut the car off and turned to look at her. "You are killing me."
Blake smirked and turned in the seat, looking at him. He watched her reach up and unbutton the top of her oxford. He bit his lip, watching her fingers work. "I'm killing you?" she asked, slowly unbuttoning her shirt all the way. "Why don't you do something about it?" She pushed her shirt and blazer off her shoulders.
Dean grabbed the back of her head, fisting his hand in her hair and pulled her towards him, crashing his lips against hers. Blake moaned, her fingers quickly working at the buttons of his shirt. He wrapped a hand around her ass and pulled her closer, lying her back on the front seat. "You're in so much trouble," he growled against her lips. He didn't bother trying to get her skirt off. He pushed it until it bunched around her waist and swore.
"Something wrong?" she asked, running her hands through her hair, lying them above her head.
Dean didn't know what she'd had under the skirt. He'd seen the nylons on her legs, but he had no idea the only thing holding them up was a black, lacy garter belt. He bit his lip, closing his eyes. She wasn't even wearing panties. "So. Much. Trouble." He backed up into a very uncomfortable position, pulling her legs over his shoulders.
Blake arched on the leather of the seat when Dean blew a puff of air over her sensitive folds. If she'd known it'd be that easy to get Dean to fuck her again, she would have burned all of her pants. She bit her lip, her back arching when his lips closed around her clit. He moaned against her, the vibrations rocking straight to her core. Blake reached down, gripping his hair as he sucked.
He wrapped his arms around her hips as he feasted on her. She was the best damn thing he'd ever swallowed. She tasted like mangos and cream. He could have stayed there for hours. But his cock throbbed painfully in the suit pants, reminding him that he needed to remedy that problem. Dean gave her clit one last suck before he leaned up, all but ripping the button and zipper off his pants in his haste to get them out of the way.
Blake leaned up on her elbows, bracing her back against the passenger's seat as she watched him. She licked her lips one he'd freed his cock. "You want something?" he asked. He reached down, wrapping his hand around his dick and stroked it.
She whined and arched her back, sliding her legs off his shoulders and around his hips. "I want you to fuck me with your cock," she whispered.
Dean grabbed her and pulled her on top of him as he sat in the middle of the front seat. "I want you to ride my cock." She bit her lip, her head dipping back as she lowered herself onto him. Sheathing him in her tight, wet cunt. Dean gripped her hips with bruising force as she rocked and shimmied against him. She was perfect. Blake gripped his shoulders as she moved, rocking her hips faster. She was desperate for release, she needed to feel it, feel him. "That's it baby," he ground out. "You like the way my dick feels inside your wet little pussy?"
She dropped her head onto his shoulder, her nails biting into his skin as she moaned, her pussy contracting around his dick almost violently. If he was going to start talking, she wasn't going to last. "Fuck, Dean."
"I know what you need." He cupped her ass in his hands, guiding her faster as she bounced and rocked. He buried his head into her neck, kissing and biting the skin. "You need me to fuck you into oblivion." He smacked her ass, just to see what she would do. Blake couldn't handle it. Everything went white and hot as her body contracted and coiled, her orgasm racing through her with the intensity of a lightning storm. She fell against his chest, panting, gasping for air.
"Not done," she managed. Dean watched her climb off and sink onto the floor, her small body able to fit into the compact space. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock before slowly lowering her lips, engulfing him down the back of her throat. Blake moaned around him as she swallowed him to the base. She took his hands, guiding them to her hair, letting her body go lax on top of him.
"Oh fuck," Dean whispered, getting the message. He didn't know how he'd ended up with what was probably the perfect woman, but he was damn sure happy he did. He fisted his hands in her hair and pulled her off his cock halfway before pushing her back down. Blake moaned, her stormy grey eyes looking up at him as she let him set the pace. She swallowed around his length and he nearly went cross-eyed.
Dean dropped his head back against the seat as he bobbed her head up and down, faster and faster, his hips jerking up to meet his thrusts. She used her tongue on the upstroke, running it along the thick vein. She swallowed around him when he was buried deep in her throat. She moaned and hummed the whole time. "You look so damn sexy like that," he told her. "So fucking hot with your lips wrapped around my dick."
Blake moaned, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. "You like it when I talk dirty don't you? Yeah, I know you do. You're going to like it even more when I make you swallow my come aren't you?" She gripped his thighs as he sped up. His orgasm was close. "Gonna swallow all of it like a good girl."
She moaned and tried to nod her head. She would never hear the words 'good girl' the same way again. She was going crazy. Dean groaned above her. "Get ready baby," he warned before he started to come. She swallowed around him, swallowing it down before he released her hair. Blake gently eased off of him and climbed into the seat, resting her head against his shoulder as he panted. He turned and kissed her head. "We can never tell Sam that happened."
She laughed and looked at the seat the older Winchester always sat in. "He'd let me ride in the front." She smirked and looked up at him. "Just think of all the dirty, nasty things I could do to you on those long road trips."
"Fuck it, I'm telling Sam."
xXx
Dean walked into the bar and looked around for Sam. They'd called him after they'd checked out the second victim's house and told him to meet them there. It was better than going back to the motel only to leave again for food. The second house had been a bust. No hex bags. No sulfur. No EMF. They hadn't even found a gas can or matches. Whoever was killing people in this town, Dean was pretty damn sure they weren't some supernatural creature.
"I'm going to go freshen up," Blake said, nodding back towards the restrooms. "Order me a beer, a burger and extra fries." She winked and headed off.
Dean smirked and headed over to the booth Sam was in, already halfway through a beer. "Hey, Sammy." Dean sat down and waved the waitress over. "Yeah, two beers, two double bacon burgers, and three fries." He thanked her and looked at his brother, the biggest shit eating grin on his face.
"You're happy," Sam stated. He narrowed his eyes and glanced back towards the bathrooms. "You didn't."
"All over the front seat." Dean smirked and sat back, his arms laying over the seatback. "And it was spectacular."
Sam groaned. "C'mon Dean, I sit there!"
"So sit in the back." Dean smirked, looking over towards the lady's room when Blake came back out. She smiled and started towards them. He scooted over in the seat so she could sit beside him.
"Hey, Sam. Did you miss us?" she asked.
He glared at them. "I hate both of you." He finished his beer and signaled the waitress to bring him another. "Seriously, can't you two keep it in your pants?"
"Nope." Blake sat back when the waitress brought their food. "So, we didn't find anything. As far as we can tell, it's just some crazy person." She reached across Dean and grabbed the ketchup, squeezing some out on her plate. "What did you find?"
"Nothing." Sam took a drink of his beer and shook his head. "I'm thinking this isn't one of our kind of cases."
Dean shrugged. "So we're on vacation. I say let's have some fun."
They ate, drank, and Blake managed to hustle a game of pool all by herself. Dean watched from the sidelines, admiring the way her ass looked in the skirt, imagining all of the things he still wanted to do to her in that skirt. Too bad Sam wasn't going to leave them alone for the rest of the night. Maybe they'd sneak out, go back to the Impala. It was almost closing time by the time they were ready to leave. Blake yawned, leaning against Dean while they watched Sam sink the last shot of his pool game. "I'm gonna head to the car," she said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the keys.
"I'll be there in a few." Dean kissed her head and watched her walk out of the bar. He sighed. He was happy, he realized. He smiled a little and looked at Sam. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah, just gotta take a leak."
Dean nodded and headed outside. Maybe he could get a couple minutes alone with Blake before Sam came and they headed back to the motel. He walked outside, but he didn't see Blake beside the Impala or inside of it. "Blake?" he called out. He turned, looking around. He saw the keys on the ground beside the car. He frowned, crouching down to pick them up. That's when he saw the drag marks made from a pair of heels, leading to tire tracks. "Son of a bitch." He started looking around. There was a security camera on the light poll. He ran back inside.
"What's going on?" Sam asked.
"Someone took Blake." Dean walked over to the counter and pulled out his FBI badge and showed the bartender. "I need to look at your security tapes. Right now." He didn't ask questions. He wasn't happy about it. Dean knew he just wanted to go home, but this was important. He followed him to the back room and sat at the computer, watching Sam work his magic. Sam reversed the feed, going back to where Blake had walked out of the bar. They saw the truck stop. It was a four door Chevy, and wouldn't you know? They even got the plates. Dean growled, watching a man jump out and grab her.
He felt a small swell of pride when he watched her get a couple good shots in. Then he slammed her head on the hood of the Impala, knocking her out. He clenched his fists, watching the dead man walking cop a feel as he lifted her and threw her into the back seat of the truck.
Sam wrote down the plate numbers and got up. "Let's go. I can get this on the way." Dean nodded and followed Sam out to the car. Events from earlier were forgotten as they climbed into the car. Sam called the police station and fed them the bogus information to get the information from the plates. As soon as Dean had an address he sped out of the parking lot, kicking up gravel on spinning tires.
"Give me some information here, Sam. What are we dealing with?" he asked.
"As far as I can tell it's just the one guy, lives alone out in the middle of nowhere. No record to speak of."
Dean nodded and checked the speedometer, pushing the pedal just a little harder. He wanted to get there before something really bad happened. She hadn't been gone that long. He just hoped they weren't too late.
xXx
Blake shook her head, thrashing and fighting against the guy who was dragging her into a house. She'd woken up in the truck, arms and ankles bound with duct tape. She'd been trying desperately to get to the pocket knife she had clipped on the inside of the back of her skirt. If she could get to it she could get away. She grunted when the man threw her on the ground inside of a cabin that smelt like mold and dust. He obviously didn't know what dusting was.
She rotated her body, pulling herself up against the wall and pulled her legs under her as she watched him walk around the room. He was looking for something. She didn't want to wait and see what it was. She started working towards her pocket knife again. When she wrapped her fingers around it she pulled it out, opening it and started working on the tape around her legs first. "Who are you?" she asked.
"Larry." He was practically ignoring her. "Why are you looking into the deaths?"
"It's my job." She tried to keep herself calm when she felt the knife tear through the tape around her ankles. She carefully flipped the knife around and started in on her hands. "Are you the one who's been killing them?"
"Not killing them," he told her, unraveling a coil of rope. "Purifying them."
"For what?"
"They were dirty. Only fire purifies. They needed to be clean." His hands were shaking as he grabbed a can of gasoline. "You're dirty too. I saw you with that man."
"How does that make me dirty?" she asked. She'd cut through the tape and was starting to relax a little. She could get out of this. She just needed to wait for the right time.
Larry set the gas down and turned, looking at her. "You were in public."
"We were hidden."
"You're not married."
"Times change." She started to brace herself to jump up. He didn't have the gas, or a weapon in his hands. She could knock him flat on his ass and make a run for it.
He shook his head. "You need to be purified. Only fire does that."
She shook her head. "Man, someone really did a number on you." She jumped up and punched him, knocking him back into the table he'd been lying supplies on. She swore when she tried to take a step and her skirt clung to her, preventing large steps. She flipped the knife around in her hand and cut the side of the skirt right down the thigh. Larry grabbed her by the hair and tried to slam her head against the wall.
Blake bent in half, letting him run straight into the wall, hitting his head. He released her hair. Blake planted a foot on the ground, kicking him with the other. Larry crumpled on the floor. She grabbed her knife off the floor and made a break for the door, just as it splintered. Dean had kicked it in. He and Sam came in, guns drawn. "Blake."
She ran over to them as Larry managed to pull himself off the floor. "You will all burn in fire!" he bellowed.
"Been there, done that." Dean put a bullet in his chest. He put an arm around Blake and led her out of the house. "Are you okay?" he asked, leading her to the car.
"My skirt is ruined, but I'm okay." She looked up at him. "How did you know where I was?" she asked.
"We checked the security tapes and got the plates off his truck." Sam opened the front door and let her climb in. She scooted into the middle when she realized he was climbing in behind her. She'd never felt safer than sitting on the front seat between her boys.
"Looks like you didn't need us though," Dean said, driving back to the motel. "You handled yourself pretty well back there."
"Thanks." She rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She reached out and took Sam's hand. She was out before they even reached the motel.