Warning: For the next couple of chapters, there will be Twilight references, as well as minor bashing of said books/movies.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, merely borrowing it slightly.
Enjoy! :)
2009
Hershey was an extremely good actor. I almost never knew if the emotion he wore on his face was really what he was feeling. Sometimes, I would get lucky. I would see the crack in the mask before Hershey sealed it up tight. Other times, the scary times, Hershey was too shocked, too saddened, too desperate to hide what he was feeling. But mostly I just took the emotions on his face to be true. When Hershey and I rejoined the world on New Year's Day, he may have pulled off the best acting I had even seen.
We had an hour of quiet together that we spent drinking hot chocolate and simply silently enjoying each other's company. I would be lying to say that things weren't… different. Last night's conversation seemed to be the orange elephant in the room. But I loved him. I couldn't change that, and I didn't want to. I didn't care that Hershey didn't – couldn't – love me back. I never expected him to. Why should he? Out of the hundreds of thousands of years he had existed, out of the billions upon billions of people who had lived and died in his lifetime, I wasn't different or special in any significant way. I was just Cola. But even so, the air around us felt different, each look, each touch felt different. Like static electricity clung to my skin. It wasn't unpleasant, or uncomfortable, or anything like that. It was just – just – like magic. Like the magic I first felt when I first saw my Hershey Man all those years ago. The magic that made me want to run away because it felt dangerous.
Mom made her appearance after the hour, going straight for the coffee machine without as much as a hello. The moment she stepped into the kitchen, Hershey was as cheerful and as charming and as cheeky as ever. It was like flicking as switch, and the switch also shut off the static charge surrounding me. Suddenly, everything was perfect again, and I didn't want everything to be perfect. The universe destroyed things that were perfect.
The phone rang just as Mom and I were cleaning up from lunch, and I snagged it with one hand.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Nicky," Stella's voice came through the phone. It still sounded like she was half-asleep.
"Hey. So how's engaged life turning out for you so far?" I asked, putting my last plate into the sink and sitting on the edge of the table. Stella chuckled.
"Unbelievably awesome. But anyway, this totally slipped my mind yesterday. You know you're Maid of Honor, right? Because if you don't then you're stupid." I grinned.
"Stel, if I wasn't Maid of Honor, I'd hunt down whoever you replaced me with and kill her. We've only been planning each other's weddings since what? Fourth grade?"
"Eh… probably sixth, maybe seventh – "
"No, it was definitely fourth, if not sooner," I corrected. Stella snorted.
"Definitely sixth grade. Oh! And you better tell your Hershey Man that I expect you to stay in one, wholesome piece. No dying or disappearing off the face of the world, and crap like that." I shook my head and looked out the window to the snow-covered ground. "Nicky, I'm waiting for my guarantee."
"You got your guarantee."
Present
I had just wiped away my tears when someone pounded on Becky's door rather insistently. Becky gave me a somewhat patronizing pat on the shoulder and opened it up a crack. That small opening was all Dean needed to shove his way inside.
"Hey!" Becky cried indignantly, closing the door behind the furious ex-hunter with a huff. I eyed him warily.
"Dean?" I asked. His eyes locked onto me as I stood. "You okay?"
"No! I am not okay!" he shouted at me. I took a step back despite myself. Dean was scary as hell when he turned the full front of his anger on someone, more so when that rage was directed at me. He raised a clenched fist and I could just see the edge of a paper he held crumpled in his hand. "I wake up and find this sitting next to me. Want to know what it says?" My heart sunk. I already had a pretty good idea what it said.
"What did it say?" Becky asked quietly. I looked at her, and the look on her face said it all. I quickly shook my head at her, begging her to stay silent and to follow my lead as Dean whirled around.
"'Nicolette Burns will be doing the Hellfire Rumba by Saturday'," Dean said, each word clipped and furious, and his voice shaking. He rounded on me again. "You made a freaking deal, didn't you?" The accusation in his eyes was almost unbearable. I looked down at my feet so I didn't have to look at him. "Son of a bitch," he breathed.
"If I made a deal I wouldn't be standing here yelling at you and spilling my guts at some lame ass convention!" I snapped at him, the wear of the emotions that tore through me earlier making me far more irritable than usually when it came to Dean and his stupid comments. "Trust me! I would much rather be at some tropical beach with Gabe. But I'm not. I can't. He's not here."
"My convention isn't lame," Becky muttered. Her complaint went ignored.
"Then explain this," Dean growled, throwing the paper at my face. It only floated to the midway point between us before fluttering to the ground.
"Since when did we begin trusting mysterious notes that turn up out of nowhere?" I asked, snatching the paper up. It read exactly like Dean said, and was written in a painfully familiar, cramped handwriting. I crumpled it up into a little ball and chucked it at the waste basket. It hit the edge and bounced off to an unknown corner of the room. "Obviously something's trying to mess with your mind."
Dean looked between Becky and me, studying both our faces for any sign of deception. Finally, he nodded, even if he still looked unconvinced. "Fine," he said.
"To be honest, I'm insulted you think I'm that stupid," I told him.
"Takes one to know one," Becky offered. Dean and I glared at her. "Just saying, with Dean's track record and all."
"Not helping."
"Just saying," she repeated with a shrug. A jaded smile crept onto Dean's face as he raked a hand through his hair. I sighed and collapsed back down on the bed.
"Well, now that we got our arguing in for the day."
"You can't blame me for thinking – "
"Yeah, yeah. I've been on Crossroad Watch since the second I joined Team Screw You Satan," I interrupted with a wave of my hand. "You're forgiven." Dean looked for a moment like he wanted to say something more, but shrugged instead. Becky took that moment to go into her "Manager of a Convention for Crazed Fanatics of a Book Series That Actually Exists" Mode. She grinned at the two of us and clapped her hands together twice.
"Right, so Nicky, you know you have your panel in… two hours. Rest, shower, nap, whatever. I need you fresh and alert." I gave her a salute in acknowledge me. "Dean. I don't care what you do, but I need you in the main hall at nine tonight, okay?"
"I'm not doing a panel or whatever the hell you call it," he said quickly.
"No! It's not a panel! You and Nicky are running the Karaoke Night!" I had rolled over and buried my face into the pillows when I heard "Karaoke Night." I picked up my head to look at the fan girl. Damn it! She had that no arguments look in her eyes. I groaned and plopped my face back into the pillows. Dean was silent for a good minute before I felt the bed dip beside me, and heard the thump of a pillow.
"Becky will just find a way to bring you back if you suffocate yourself," I offered helpfully, although the pillow muffled and distorted my words. Dean merely groaned.
2009
February found me in Forks, Washington. Okay, let's just get this out of the way. Yes, I read the Twilight books. Yes, I even saw the movie with Hershey, who for the record is not a fan of the series, to put it politely. He had a full ten minute rant about why vampires can't sparkle and that sparkly vampires are not the least bit terrifying and that vampires are supposed to be terrifying, damn it! Personally, I thought the books were a good read as long as you didn't think about it too much. Then they started to fall apart. But I digress.
Hershey and I set up home base in a nice, quiet, two-floor house at the end of a nice, quiet street lined with green trees. The whole town felt green, with a layer of snow making everything sparkle in the sunlight. Hershey snickered constantly.
His targets were easy enough to pick out. Giant wolves roaming the woods, sparkly vampires sneaking into people's bedrooms… if it was Twilight related, Hershey made a trick out of it. And a few people died, a fact that worried me far less than it used to. After all, they deserved it, didn't they? Hershey never killed an innocent man, or a woman for that matter. He never went after a woman. It was always men that got their "just deserts."
Either way, the deaths attracted attention.
"Where do you want to go for Valentine's Day?" Hershey asked as we ate lunch at the local restaurant. I looked up from my burger and frowned.
"Isn't that in like two weeks?" I asked. Hershey smirked.
"Nope." He popped the p like he did every time. "It's on Saturday. Three days." He held up three fingers for emphasis. I rolled my eyes and munched on a fry. "Seriously, Cola. Last time I actually celebrated Valentine's Day was, I don't know, never? I'm kinda flying blind here."
"You never celebrated Valentine's Day," I repeated.
"Never had the right girl to celebrate with," he said with a grin and a wink. I couldn't help but return the grin.
"I don't know. Surprise me," I told him. The grin grew more mischievous. "I'm going to regret those words, aren't I?"
"Maybe."
The door to the restaurant opened, allowing a cold draft to blow through the room. I shivered, and turned to glare at the new arrivals. The guy entered first, dressed as sharp as you can be in a cheap suit. His dark hair was cropped close to his head, the style vaguely militaristic. A thin layer of stubble clinged to his square jaw. Dark, cold eyes scanned every patron inside before he took two steps. I wiped the glare off my face in an instant. Everything about him, from his movements to his behavior, screamed he was dangerous.
The woman stepped inside only after Mr. Scary cleared the room. She was also dressed professionally in a skirt, dress, shirt, blazer, and heels. Her dark red hair was pulled back in a sophisticated up-do. Pale blue eyes were curious, but guarded, much like her partner's. She moved in a similar, efficient manner too.
"Crap," Hershey breathed as the pair was seated on the other end of the restaurant. I turned back around to look at the god.
"What?" I asked.
"Hunters."
"Crap."
"Yup. Now hush, Cola. I'm trying to listen." Listen? Oh, right. Special god powers. I tried to turn my attention back to my food, but my appetite had all but vanished. If Sam and Dean were anything to go by, hunters meant death, destruction, and most of all, me almost dying in some way, shape, or form. So much for Valentine's Day.
Okay, so it isn't Oct. 3rd. Real life got in the way, as it does so love to do. *Shrugs* What are you going to do? So, who saw the Season 8 premiere? Was it as good as you thought it would be? Better? Worse? I'm... hesitantly excited. Season 8, here we come!
As always I'd like to - you guys already know I love you.
Review? : )