Wow, I'm a little bummed about this season so far. Is it just me or does it seem like it's being rushed way too fast? (Not that I'm not glad Dean is back and all, but it's just not what I expected at all) And what's the deal with Casstiel? I have my predictions, if you want them, but I'm eager to hear what everyone else is thinking. The other night's eppie was pretty good, but it still just feels out of place.
Shaz- Glad those clues helped sort it out, but as for your prediction? You're right with the fact that it's a familiar face, but... we'll you'll see.
stakemenow - Glad you're enjoying the dark side, better fasten your seatbelt, though :)
"Yuh…" I fought my hardest to speak out, but it wasn't easy. Clenched my teeth so damn hard I thought they'd break. Felt myself start to breathe again, on my own. I huffed that air like I'd die if I didn't.
For all I knew, I would.
"Yrr s..spss…sps ..dead!" I tried again, focusing all my energy into talking.
What I managed to spit out didn't make much sense, but I'd still said it, and I think she understood because she soon stepped back and laughed.
"Dean?" She studied me carefully. Amused.
Despite the strong discomfort growing in my gums, I kept my jaws locked together. Tight. I refused to let go—it was the only control I had left, and I would continue to strain if it killed me.
I forced myself to focus on breathing. Looked away from her and stared down at my nose.
"So that really is still you in there?" She said rolling her eyes. As if I made sense to her now.
I wanted to laugh. Am I still in here? 'Damn straight, bitch,' I thought to myself, and I would have said it, too, had I been strong enough to reply. But I wasn't. Her question, alone, threw off my concentration just enough. I stumbled, and felt myself falling. Back into that black pit I'd been lost in.
Her cold fingers brushed against my lips as her eyes scanned mine. Searching for something. Then, as if she'd known what I was thinking, she let her tongue slide across her top teeth. Offended. "Still as arrogant as ever, I see."
Just in case she could read my thoughts, I knew not to let my fears silence them. 'Yeah, and you're still a demonic whore.' I thought, and if I could have grinned, I would have.
She sighed and turned from me, tilting her head slightly. I saw the life leave her eyes as they quickly changed from brown, to black, to a fiery orange, and without speaking a word, I heard her say that I hadn't changed a bit.
"But, actually," She bit down hard on her lower lip with one of those snarky-half smiles. "In this new world, you're the whore. I'm the god."
My heart skipped, because I knew she was right. I hated it, but she was right. I was nothing.
"This jacket of mine? 'Meg' you called it, right? I think it's funny how much you hated her, which is why I picked it. Because I liked the way it makes you feel. Angry… And dark. But, really it wasn't as easy a choice as you might think. You sure made a lot of people angry down there, Dean. Any one of them would have easily given in to have had this chance."
Yak, yak, yak, I thought. But she just wouldn't shut up. It made me angry just looking at her, and as I wished I could strangle her, I felt my fingers move.
"Honestly," She continued, without a breath—not that the dead bag needed one, "I spent months picking out the perfect wardrobe. I mean, really, whose body do I take? Someone you killed? Someone you failed to save? One of the many blood-thirsty, vengeance-driven demons you sent a-packin'? Hell, maybe even your own father. He had a nice suit."
That was it—the push I needed to get back on my feet, so to speak. When she ever said that, I felt a spark in me that set fire to my body. Somehow my anger overcame whatever'd been inside me, and I managed to lunge for her. Unfortunately, though, I didn't make it too far. And I didn't scare her, either. She just crossed her arms.
I felt some force clamp down around my neck—brought me to my knees. She leaned over, and grabbed me by the hair. "Guess I made the right decision, after all. I knew you boys would be too melodramatic with daddy around. And you know what else? What really sealed the deal?" She leaned in closer to my face, "I love the smell of revulsion."
Between the sound of her inhaling my 'revulsion' and the fact I couldn't breathe, I nearly passed out. Fortunately, (or, unfortunately, really) she was honed in to me so well that she must have known. She tossed me aside like some ragdoll, and finally released my throat.
"You have to admit, it is a bit ironic. You only hated this body because she sold herself to the dark side, and yet here you are. Turns out you're no better than she was." She shook her head with pity, "Like your brother said, though, anyone under the right circumstances… All I had to do was offer Meg, here, a way out. A second chance. She didn't think twice, and neither did you. Aren't you both just the perfect exemplar of your kind. All the same. Greedy, selfish, and weak."
The demon blinked and the glow in her eyes faded.
"You know what I'm talking about, don't you? You must. You do. You know exactly what I'm talking about." She smiled. "It's the Deal, Dean. The one you made me to save your life. You remember."
I didn't have to wonder she was talking about. I wished I did, but I didn't. I knew.
She smiled again and, with some imaginary force, pulled me to my feet. She then picked something up off… off of something. Must have been a table? It was all too dark for me to see, but as she came closer, I could feel it. Humming in my chest. A part of me already knew what she had in her hands—it was a knife—her knife. An onyx blade, encrusted with bloody black gems. She held it up to my eyes, laid it against my cheek, and chuckled as she shook her head one last time.
"The word of a Winchester." She smirked. The glow in her eyes returned as the blade slid down my neck, "I never imagined it to be mine, but I guess anything is possible."
I still couldn't move. I wished I could, but, well, all I could do was stare into her eyes as they carefully looked over the rest of my body. Debating where to cut. The dagger danced its way down the fabric of my shirt, resting above my heart. It dug in, deep, but I couldn't feel the pain. Only fear. I knew she was dragging that knife down my chest, but it didn't hurt.
It scared me. Like her eyes. So focused. So dark.
The knife slipped under my shirt, and the cool night's air touched my stomach. All I could see were her eyes. She tore the Band-Aid from my open wound; that hurt, but nothing else did. Not her dead fingers forcefully grabbing hold of my face, or her fingernails burrowing into my skin. Not even the violent pull she used to lower my attention to what would be happening next.
She sliced me open. Just above my hip.
The cut was deep, and harsh. It retraced the old one to a T, but it still didn't hurt. Not one bit. In fact, it made me feel better.
As she cut, the blood vanished. Like watching a horror movie. Backwards. Everything in reverse. It was all just gone. The pain. The cut. The blood. All gone. Even my confusion and fog seemed to disappear, and I knew. I thought I had known before, but now I really knew. Everything, because all that remained were the memories. New and old. Past and future—all flooding my head like razors in my skull. I knew.
I knew that this wasn't the first time this blade had cut me. I remembered the first time—the thoughts raced through my mind. I'd seen her at the club, that night with Kiersa. A blur in the crowd. The blood on my shirt. Echoes in my head. The nightmares back at the motel room—they were her. All her. That night she had drugged me, cut me, infected me. I promised to help her, if she spared me the agony, but she didn't need my promise. Never did. Her darkness was in me. Had been, ever since. Hidden. Waiting.
Her plan was my plan. I was her, and she was me. We were one, and I couldn't fight it. Not any more. I'm not sure if I ever could, but that didn't matter now. It was too late.
When I'd returned, to wherever it was I'd been, the dark voice spoke to me again. I'd definitely heard it before and it was much clearer, now. So clear, it seemed almost familiar.
Somehow I knew the words weren't just meant for me, they were from me.
A whisper in my ear. Breath on my neck. "Welcome back."
I smiled.
"Do you remember, Dean?" She asked me softly. "Do you remember the plan?"
I did.
"Good." Darkness grinned. "It's time."
(insert suspenseful commercial-break noise here--ha!)
