Dean sits patiently on the couch, trying to gather his thoughts. He knows he has to talk to her. Hell, he was the one who brought it up in the first place. But now that the time has come, he's filled with the sudden overwhelming urge to flee, to run away from the situation and never deal with it. All of it seems so heavy and he hates talking with a passion. It was always so damn difficult and always so fucking painful to do, and right now there's just so much to tell her. But now, after having shoved hell, his own missteps while there, and Sam's new extracurricular activities down deep for so long, he worries about what will happen to him if he doesn't let it out and get her help.
How will she react to everything? The forty years in hell, ten of which he was on the giving end of the blade, his brother's psychic stuff, Ruby being around again. What could she possibly say or do to make any of it better? No matter what, he knows that for his own sanity this conversation has to happen so he tells himself to suck it up. Every time he has ever asked for her help, she's come through beautifully and he walks away a much better person than before. He has to have faith that she can handle everything he's kept from her so far like she always does.
"You in there?" Lizzy's voice asks from the living room doorway, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looks over to see her wrapped in a towel, hair still dripping from her shower.
"I'm here," Dean grins. "Just trying to sort through everything."
"Sounds like quite the undertaking," she comments. "Um, so I was thinking, before we talk about what's on your mind, maybe we could have a little fun first?" She grins playfully and drops her towel onto the floor, leaving her standing naked in front of him and sure he'll fall for the bait. Looking over her shoulder as she turns, she winks while disappearing into the bedroom and leaves Dean wondering once more if she can in fact read his thoughts. He was looking to delay the inevitable conversation after all.
"Lucky for you, fun is my middle name," Dean comments with glee as he jumps up from his seat and walks quickly across the hallway, practically skidding to a comical halt once he takes in the sight before him. Lizzy's body is stretched out across her bed on top of her comforter, damp hair splayed out across the pillows and her skin still slightly glistening from her shower in the late afternoon cloudy light seeping through the windows. Dean licks his lips unknowingly while she stretches her arms above her head and slowly moves, the curves of her taut body on full display as she does.
"God damn, you are sex, you know that?" Dean tells her, letting her stay right where she is so he can try to stow the view away in his mind. It was just too good to interrupt just yet.
"Not bad, huh?" she comments with a smile, knowing exactly what she's doing to him. Her eyes drag slowly over him with carnal desire. She rolls over onto her stomach, lying across the mattress with her head at the edge closest to him, sure to display her backside properly by lifting it ever so slightly. Her feet swinging in the air, she lets her eyes lock onto his while biting her index finger seductively. "Undress for me."
"Not a problem," Dean beams back at her, rushing to get them on an even playing field as soon as possible.
"Slowly," she requests darkly. "I want to enjoy this."
Dean stops for a second, taken off guard by her request. First off, slow was not their normal speed. He and Lizzy were both fully aware of their own impatience and weakness when it came to the other and very rarely did they exercise this kind of restraint. Secondly, she's putting him on the spot and he's hating it. Sure, she'd done a quick little striptease for him once before in which halfway through he gave in and just took her, ending the show early, but turning the tables and putting him in that position was never something he considered… nor did he ever want.
"C'mon, L," Dean complains while standing in place, open belt still in his hands.
"What?" she said in a whiny voice he's never heard from her before. "Don't you want to turn me on, baby?"
"Of course," Dean answers while making funny face at her unlikely, and unattractive to him, tone and stepping toward her, leaning down to lift her chin and kiss her quickly. "But I'm not really the stripping type. Awkward, L. Really awkward." He laughs quietly while standing up straight once more.
"That's alright," she says with slight disappointment as she reaches for his belt buckle. She grasps it firmly and yanks, pulling it from his belt loops in one fast motion. Sitting up on her knees she gives him another closed lip smile. "I know how to still have fun with you in other ways." She folds the leather strip in half and snaps it, making Dean jump with the surprising crack echoing through the room.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" Dean questions with a distressed face. They've never once gotten into anything like what she's suggesting right now. They get roughed up enough on a weekly basis so there's no need for that behind closed doors too. He's getting a strange vibe and he finds himself almost scared of her.
"Just trying to keep it interesting," she says, her words dripping with want, as she loops the belt around the back of his neck and pulls him down roughly into her. She kisses him deeply, her tongue exploring his boldly. Her mouth is there, moving like it usually does, but he's left feeling empty. No heat, no connection. Dean backs away disheartened. What is going on with her?
"Hey," he interrupts, slipping out from under his own belt's hold on him. "I'm totally distracted here. Would it be shitty of me to ask that we talk first and do this after?"
She gives him an exaggerated pouting face with the disappointment.
"You listen to what I have to say and let me clear my head. Then afterwards, I'm all yours. Whatever you want."
"Whatever I want?" she asks, mood perking up.
"Yup."
"Promise?" Lizzy's face smirks.
"Absolutely. Now get dressed," Dean says lightly. "I'll be on the couch." He leaves the room and she lies back onto the bed with a sigh of sheer annoyance.
"If at first you don't succeed…" the demon says quietly to itself. She rolls over and hops off the bed, ready to get dressed and trudge through some heart to heart bullshit.
"Hey there, Bobby," Rufus greets, without enthusiasm as usual, when he answers his phone.
"Rufus, you need to tell me everythin' you can remember about that demon we went after in Massachusetts seven years ago," Bobby spills out quickly.
"What the hell you yappin' about over there?" Rufus complains with utter bewilderment
"The demon!" Bobby tries with total impatience. "The Hand of the Etruscans!"
Rufus' memory kicks in. "You talkin' 'bout the one that got Lizzy and Lou's parents?"
"That's the one!"
"It was a pain in my aging ass, I remember that," Rufus comments, recalling the struggle he went through trying to exorcise it and the beating he received from it. "And fuck you very much for bringing me in on that hunt, by the way."
"It's back, you idjit!" Bobby nearly shouts into the phone with Rufus' unneeded rudeness. "And it's bein' a pain in Lizzy's ass as we speak! Info, now!"
"Fine. Man," Rufus tries to calm him. "I remember you sayin' it was runnin' around collectin' spells and items to make itself stronger. Kind of a pussy before it beefed up its power."
"What else?" Bobby impatiently asks.
"I walked into the whole situation assumin' we could handle that demon with a hand tied behind each of our backs. Boy, was I fuckin' wrong. It had definitely been eatin' its Wheaties."
"You remember a name?" Bobby asks, desperate to figure out what they were dealing with.
"I'm sorry, I didn't have time to talk with her over a cup o' joe," Rufus quips.
"Her! It was a her!" Bobby's heart skips. He might have been onto something before.
"Yeah, the bitch made it pretty clear when she called me a 'typical weak man' in the middle of tearin' me a new one." Rufus accentuates the phrase 'typical weak man' in a way that lets Bobby know he's telling the truth.
"Oh shit," Bobby complains.
"So it's back, huh?"
"The bitch is definitely back," Bobby tells him. "And it got Lizzy."
"What the hell's that mean!" Rufus shouts into the phone with fear, making Bobby pull it away from his ear with the heightened volume.
"I'm sayin' she's possessed, Rufus," Bobby explains. "She and Dean are about to be snowed in in Massachusetts while this demon is takin' Lizzy for a spin."
"Holy shit, Bobby. This is no good!" Rufus, being the hardened ass that he outwardly was, surprisingly took a shining to the two girls immediately. They took everything that life threw at them in stride and after seeing them grow as hunters, he was impressed and proud, not that he'd ever tell anyone that. He'd never want any harm to come to them and he took the news of Lou's death harder than he let on.
"You don't say," Bobby bites back. "Sam's on his way but he's still several hours out and it'll be slow goin' with the storm and all. Dean and Lizzy aren't answerin' their phones neither."
"I got a buddy out in Rhode Island," Rufus says. "Lemme get you his number. If he's still in the area he might be able to get to them sooner."
"I'll take anything at this point," Bobby says, grabbing a pen and paper.