Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.
Four Months Later
"Holy shit," Dean amazes as he looks around the littered floor of the warehouse. Nine bodies are strewn about, unmoving and headless, as pools of fresh red continue to grow larger by the second underneath them. He wipes his forehead with his jacket-covered forearm, never dropping his bloodied machete in his grip.
"You said it," Lizzy huffs with a smile. "Nine has to be a new record."
"Really?" Dean asks with surprise.
"Yeah… for me, at least. Garth and I never did this badass a job before," Lizzy nods, looking around. Her face drops with her newest thought. "Ah, damn it. This is gonna be a bitch to clean up. And I'm kicked after that." She leans down and wipes her blade on one of the vamp's jeans before holstering it again. They're both exhausted after the struggles against roughly double the amount of vampires than they expected.
"Crap," Dean complains, looking around. The cleanup would take hours. Hauling all the bodies out back and burning them before burying them followed by some severe blood clean up? Fuck that. "You know, I got a half-full gas can in the trunk of the car."
"I have a full lighter," Lizzy smirks and pulls out her Zippos, the metal clinging as she flicks it open.
"Stay here," Dean nods and keeps his machete in hand as he jogs out to the Impala parked out front.
"Will do," she grins back, watching him jog with a full heart. Once he's outside she surveys their work. They were an unstoppable force together. Over two months back she started taking him on the road as her partner. He was more than ready and Garth was looking more and more comfortable just staying at his 'special lady friend's' house and keeping to low grade solo hunts. Ever since it's been smooth sailing, their compatibility reaching beyond just their relationship with one another. The entire hunting community was hearing about the lovebirds that have been absolutely bulldozing the supernatural.
She couldn't be more proud.
"Miss me?" she hears him yell to her as he jogs back in, clothing blood spattered but a smile on his face. The gas in the plastic red container sloshes as he holds it up.
"It was five seconds," she smirks.
"Yeah… five seconds without me," he jokes and spins the cap off the can. He then starts dumping the gasoline over the unmoving bodies of the now dead nest.
"I survived," she rolls her eyes as she looks around, seeing a few weapons about that the nest was hoarding that could make a nice addition to her arsenal. She starts rummaging, picking up another machete, an old Colt revolver that looks antique enough to be worth a ton of cash, a police issue Glock she's assuming was swiped from the local officer that was found dead and drained, and a few long blade knives. When done she looks over at him with full hands. "You almost ready?"
He finishes the trail of gas leading out the door and looks over to her. "Why Missus Winchester, where is your patience?"
She blinks twice. "You can call me Lizzy. That part never changed."
"I know. But doesn't Missus Winchester have a better ring to it?" He grins wide and she melts into a puddle of girly mush once more over him.
"It's alright," she says flippantly as she walks for the door with him.
"Please, you love it."
"It's alright," she repeats.
"You wouldn't have changed it after Vegas if you didn't like it," Dean points out as he waits for her.
She stands next to him and lights the lighter. She pauses for a second and he gets to observe her face in the soft glow of the flame. She's stunning, even now with a smudge of blood on her cheek (thankfully, not near her mouth) and her hair everywhere. Even sweaty after a hunt she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Damn was he lucky she said yes while hammered a few weeks back.
"Whatever," she grins out and touches the flame to the gas trail. It lights up and they move out of the house towards the car.
"I wish I had some badass sunglasses or something," Dean complains, empty gas can in his grip and machete in the other.
"Why?"
"Dude, walking away from a burning building while putting on sunglasses and never looking back!?" Dean answers with his movie cliché wishes. "What's more badass than that?"
"Doing it in slow-mo," Lizzy tells him and his eyes light up as he snaps his fingers.
"You totally get me," he tells her and kisses her quickly once.
"Ok, it's shower time," Lizzy tells him as he unlocks the trunk. They drop everything in. "And then I'm gonna sleep for a week."
"Ah, home crappy home," Lizzy announces when she opens the motel door. Dropping everything on the floor by the door she walks right for the one bed in the room and drops onto it hard face down. She doesn't move as she lets out a massive groan of relief.
And Dean laughs at her, dropping the rest of their things as he locks the door and starts to line the doorway with salt. "You gonna make it?"
"No," she says into the comforter, voice muffled.
"Please don't die on me," Dean says lightly. "At least not until I get into those tight ass jeans one more time."
She laughs at him and rolls onto her side to look at him while he protects the room. "I think these jeans have seen their last day." She gestures to the crimson covering them.
"You should take them off then."
"As I go and take the first shower, I'll do just that," Lizzy answers, groaning in pain this time as she gets up.
"You alright?" Dean asks with sheer concern, knowing she's hidden injuries before.
"Just my back. I'll live," she answers, walking into the bathroom without closing the door, reaching into the tub and turning on the shower.
"I'll rub you down later," Dean tells her, finishing up salting the windows and doors and he says it without sexual innuendo this time. He just wants to help her.
"You offered so you have to now," she answers lightly as she gingerly lifts her long sleeved, black t-shirt overhead.
Salt canister still in his hands, Dean pauses when done. He catches the sight of her undressing in the open bathroom doorway and stands upright. His face lightens when he views it all, the way she kicks her boots off smoothly and lowers her tight jeans inch by inch with the ache in her back. Even in pain and exhausted, disheveled to a terrible point… he's out of air in his lungs every time he gets to see her like this. And to think she said yes. To think she carries his name with her now and she wanted nothing but to be with him… that's true good luck.
And totally worth the chewing out by Bobby once he heard they eloped in Las Vegas.
"You sure you're alright?" Dean asks again, just needing to make sure.
"Nothing a little hot water can't ease," she promises him, looking at him as she unhooks and drops her bra.
Dean licks his lips without knowing it when he sees more of her. "My God, you're beautiful."
She smiles at him, giddy and just so damn in love with him it's crazy. "I like to think red compliments my skin." She lowers her black panties without shame, more than comfortable with him.
But Dean doesn't laugh. The blood doesn't matter. He sees just her. "I mean it. You're beautiful. I just… ha." They lock eyes hard. "I'm so happy I found you."
He knows he isn't seeing things when the light reflects a little shinier in her eyes with his words.
Lizzy just smiles harder, looking away as she wipes her eyes before the tears that collected could fall. "Why do you always have to do that?" she asks with light, embarrassed laugh, appreciating his kindness but never sure what to do with it.
"I love you," Dean tells her in answer, as if it was obvious all along.
"Yeah, I love you too," Lizzy returns with affection. "Now finish up and rinse off. I can't fuck you when you have blood all over you."
She walks into the shower and he can't see her anymore. That isn't going to stand.
Quickly he tosses his clothes off and runs into the bathroom. By the time he's joined her it's a familiar scene. Lizzy's facing away with shampoo in her hair. This time he stays still and quiet until she's done rinsing it out. The moment she turns around he's right up against her, mouth on hers and kissing her with absolute need.
"Mm, Dean…." He cuts her off with another kiss. "Wait a minute."
"Can't"
"You can," she tells him, pressing a hand over his lips to stop him. "You get any vamp blood in your or my mouth, this whole corny love story shit ends right here."
"Crap, right," Dean nods, getting business like immediately. He grabs some soap and gets to work, washing off every trace with concern. He'd never put her in harm's way.
Once they're both looking better, Lizzy looks at him with a grin. "Meet me on the bed?"
She opens the shower curtain and dries off as Dean shuts the water off. Eyes never leaving her, he get nominally dry before following her into the main room of their cheap lodgings.
"Come here," Lizzy asks of him as she sits at the edge of their bed for the night, leaning back on her hands flat on the comforter and her knees parting slowly.
Swallowing hard when his mouth waters with the look of her, Dean's walking for her without even knowing it. The second he reaches her he's leaned over and his hands are on her jaw, pulling her into a deep kiss that's all need and pure feeling.
Moving her back as he kneels onto the mattress, Lizzy scoots quickly before pulling him down onto her. Lips to lips, skin to skin, every long and terrible day of hunting and death and trying frustration is completely worth it when this exists.
"Oh my God!" Lizzy exaggerates with her head thrown back as she sits back on his chest. Dean just laughs at her while dragging his fingertips up and down her thighs as she comes down. "That was a good one."
"Was it?" he jokes right back, know already.
"Shut up," she laughs, her hand cupping his face as she looks so lovingly down at him. She runs the pad of her thumb across his full, wet bottom lip. "God damn, you make me feel good."
"It's literally my job to nowadays," Dean grins back up at her, playfully licking her thumb before she takes it away.
"So now I gotta ask…" she starts. "After such a damn good job, how do you want me, Dean? You've earned the privilege to choose."
What does he want? When his hands land on the curve of her ass once more he knows exactly what he wants. He's creative, or he likes to think so.
"Get up," he quickly tells her, pushing her hips up and off of him. When she moves, rolling to the side of him and watching him get out of their bed, she smiles while observing him walk to his duffle bag and rifle through it on the floor.
He still has that healing gash on the left side of his back. It's only about three inches long, not terribly deep, but it'll leave a scar. His first hunting scar. Dean would never say it aloud but he wears it with total pride. She just thinks he looks sexy for it.
"Shit," Dean suddenly complains, standing up from the floor empty handed. He turns to her with a disappointed face. "Looks like I'm not getting you at all."
"What?" she asks, voice upset right away with the idea of no sex after how ready to go she is. "Why not?"
"I may have forgotten that we used the last condom," he says, making a face that shows his own disappointment.
"Noooo!" Lizzy cries out exaggeratedly. She flops onto her back. "So horny!"
"Ugh," Dean groans with her reaction, her form fully on display. "Not helping!"
Sighing with hands on his hips, the idea of not actually getting to fuck her after that offer she just gave, Dean's hurting with letdown.
"Let's just do it anyways," Lizzy suggests to him. "It's fine…."
"You're fucking evil for that suggestion, you know that?"
"I'll get the morning after pill before we head to Bobby's," she says to him. "No worries. We'll be in the clear."
Dean thinks about it for all of two seconds before nodding. "As long as we head to a drug store in the morning…."
"We'll be fine," Lizzy says, her eyebrow arched as she waits for him to be all in.
He doesn't love it but what he hates more is not getting to have her right now. Desire is a bitch of a thing.
"Oh my God, that's fucking amazing," Lizzy says with total relief and contentment as she lays on her stomach on top of the bed. Dean's hands kneed into her lower back as he straddles her thighs, hands working out the pain and tightness just like he promised.
"Better?" he asks, hands starting to cramp up after the day they've had paired with the massage.
"I haven't felt this good in… shit, ever." She laughs at the sad fact, cheek pressed to her folded hands under her head.
"Well, that's just… sad," Dean tells her, leaning down to press a single kiss to her upper back. "And that changes starting now."
Dean gets off of her as he finishes up, lounging back on the mattress next to her.
"What do you mean?"
"It means we're married now. To me," Dean says with obviousness. "I'm not gonna let you feel anything less than good from now on."
"Good luck with that," she laughs, rolling to her side and propping her head up with an elbow. "But I appreciate that you give a shit."
"I give more than a shit," Dean laughs a little and his sentence is punctuated with his growling stomach loudly making itself known.
"Damn!" Lizzy laughs at him with rubbing his stomach. "Hungry?"
"A little," he says guiltily.
"When was the last time we even ate?"
"Uh… I think breakfast?"
"That's not good. Well, let me repay you the favor," she says and gets off the bed, walking to her bag. She starts pulling out clothing. "What are you feeling? There's a diner down the street."
"Mm, I'm feeling cheeseburger-y," Dean tells her, his mouth watering with the thought. "And bacon-y."
"Bacon cheeseburger. Got it," she smiles, pulling on a t-shirt and old jeans. "You relax and I'll go get that."
"Awesome," Dean says to her with excitement.
"Here," she tosses him the remote from the small table in the room and it lands on his chest. "No porn, huh? We're running low on funds."
"Aw, you're no fun," Dean complains jokingly as he turns on the TV.
"I think the past few hours proves otherwise," she winks at him and grabs the keys to the Impala. "I'm a blast, baby."
"Yes you are," Dean slickly answers, his eyes giving her that look.
Unable to help herself, Lizzy walks right for him. She leans over his laid out form and plants a serious, still wanting kiss on his lips, the heat never fully extinguished even after they've been going at each other like starved animals. She takes her time, connects deeply with him as this is everything she's currently living for.
Ending the kiss, Lizzy playfully gives him a couple small, harmless slaps on the cheek. "Sit tight. And don't answer the door for strangers, huh?"
"You're weird," Dean tells her, looking to the television and flipping channels.
"Shut up," she smiles and heads for the door.
When she's gone Dean pops on Sports Center to catch up and grabs a pair of boxer briefs and a black t-shirt. With that on he once more sits back on the bed, ready to chill out and stay awake long enough for Lizzy to arrive with his very late dinner.
He closes his eyes, losing the fight with sleep. The hunt, the killing four vamps on his own, and the sex… he's tired as hell. His mind starts to drift off, dreams edging into his consciousness, when he hears a knock on the door.
Lids flying open, Dean's highly alert now. He sits up sharply and looks at the door. He knows he heard it. It woke him completely.
Standing up, Dean walks slowly and silently to the door. Once there, not a sound made, he leans into the peephole and takes a look.
There's a skinny man, pale with a black leather jacket, standing on the other side of the door. He looks side to side, clearly making sure the coast is clear, and a rock of dread forms in the pit of Dean's stomach. Something is wrong here and something is about to happen.
Before he can even move a muscle the man shoulders into the door with brute force that shouldn't be able to come from a man his size. The door flies open hard and it shoves Dean back a few feet, falling into the edge of the bed.
From sitting on his ass on the floor he watches the man walk into the room with fire in his eyes, focus on Dean.
"Knew you were in here," he says angrily, fists balled up. "Could smell your stink for miles."
Shit. A vampire. Dean's head swims with options. His weapons bag is by the door but the vampire is blocking his path to it. But he has a gun on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. He can slow him down with it and maybe distract him enough to reach the bag….
"You killed them all," the vampire accuses as Dean stands up, is hands out palms first in surrender. "Every one of them."
"I was just doing my job," Dean excuses, walking slowly to the side and around the bed.
"It's not your job to kill innocent people!" the vampire shouts, kicking the door shut behind him before advancing on Dean.
Knowing he doesn't have much time left with the anger the vampire holds, Dean scrambles for the gun. He gets it in hand, aims it, safety off.
"You think that'll do anything to me!?"
"It'll slow you down," Dean confidently answers.
"And there you go again… all shoot first, ask questions later," the vampire scoffs with pure disgust. "Did you even look into the people you killed back there? Or did you just see fangs?"
"People don't have fangs," Dean counters. "You're not people. You used to be people."
"We weren't hurting anyone!" he shouts, another step forward. "We fed on animals, just like you!"
Dean stays quiet for that one. He had no idea. The two of them were simply tipped off about a nest that needed taking care of. They weren't told they weren't going after people. He doesn't know how to respond.
"Nothing to say to that?" the vampire asks, full fire still aimed Dean's way. "No remorse?"
"I didn't know," Dean admits.
"Clearly!" the vampire responds, another step taken.
"Back off, man," Dean tells him, cocking his Colt.
"And now my family is gone," the creature keeps talking, one more step closer and it's too much for Dean.
Three quick shots fires, all three hitting the vampire in the chest as Dean takes off, diving across the bed to the open weapons bag. He's tackled from behind before he can reach the machete he's aiming for.
Climbing atop him, the vampire grabs Dean's head and slams it into the ground three times swiftly before Dean's can throw a single defensive punch. He's quick and the five month hunter-in-the-making is good but he isn't that good.
Dazed, Dean's vision wavers. He blinks a few times and tries all he can to clear his head enough to be coherent and fight back. As he tries, his hands reaching out and landing on the leather of the vampire's jacket, he can't manage even a loose grip on him.
While struggling, Dean feels a wet substance wiped across his mouth. The coppery taste hits his tongue and he swallows hard out of instinct. Shaking his head he starts to come back, not sure what's happening.
"You made me have to do this," the vampire explains. "You took my family… so now I need to make a new one."
Reaching up above his head as the vamp speaks, Dean's hand lands inside the duffle. He easily recognizes the handle of a machete when he feels it. Gripping hard, he takes a mighty swing, severing the vampire's head in one hard swoop. His head bounces once when it hits the dull carpet of the motel room, the body slumping over Dean.
Shoving the heavy weight to the side, Dean gets onto his feet and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. When he pulls it away he's shocked to see the red smear across his fingers. Blood? He didn't get hit in the mouth. Why would he be bleeding from his mouth?
And then the sounds come at him hard. The ticking of the retro looking clock on the wall echoes through his head as he can hear the quiet conversation of prices for services being exchanged in the room next door. When a car drives by the engine is so loud he winces.
And the lamp. The light from the mere sixty-watt bulb is killing his eyes all of a sudden, causing a headache as he tries to blink and adjust.
What the hell is going on?
Dropping his machete on the ground, Dean walks for the bathroom. He flips the switch and the vanity light turns on, searing his eyes. After a moment of rubbing them, Dean takes a look at himself in the mirror. His lips and cheek are smudged in red blood. He has no injuries, not a split lip to be seen, and it all starts to crash down on him.
Peeking out at the unmoving body on the floor, Dean can see the ripped open inner wrist of the headless vampire. He didn't do that to him. The vampire did it to himself… with his own teeth.
Looking back at his reflection, dread slapping him hard, he gets it.
"Shit," Dean whispers with utter fear, face paling at the thought of what is happening to him.
Parking the Impala very carefully, Lizzy gets out of the boat of a car with keys and takeout bag in hand.
"Fucking stupid car," she rolls her eyes, hating the thing. She never understood the car love Dean and Bobby have and when they started taking his 'beauty' out on the road she wasn't happy. They stop for gas constantly and the thing is impossible to maneuver. It's freaking huge.
But she lets it go. That car means the world to Dean and she'd never let him hear her complain about it. Plus, the trunk space is awesome, especially with the newly modified false bottom. Totally killer.
Making her way to the door of their room she smiles without knowing she's doing it. She's just happy to be back and even happier to see Dean again. She's addicted. She just loves him so much and that puppy love thing is still there. She's fairly sure it won't be gone for a very long time.
However, her lovey moment shatters when she sees the splintered wood on the doorframe of their room. It's mostly by the lock and doorknob. She knows what that means. Someone broke in.
Dropping the bag at her feet, Lizzy pulls her gun from her back and aims it with two hands. Deep breath, she opens the unlocked door.
The entire room is dark but she can't miss the lump of a body in the middle of the carpet… headless. The pool of blood seeping into the carpet is sticky. She just missed whatever happened when she left but whatever it was, it was a struggle. And deadly at that.
Reaching for the light switch by the door, a voice stops her.
"Don't."
Her head snaps around to the far corner of the room. Sitting there on the floor, knees drawn up and head hanging down is Dean.
"Shit," Lizzy punches out and puts her gun away, knowing all threats must be gone if he's sitting so calmly. She quickly shuts the door and rushes over to him, kneeling in front of him immediately. She reaches out to him.
"Don't touch me." He shies away from her hands.
"What?" Lizzy asks with confusion, taking her arms back quickly as asked.
"Just… don't," he repeats, this time his voice is choked a bit. "Don't touch me."
Lizzy gets highly confused. "Baby, what the hell happened here?"
Head still down, Dean's never once looked at her. "He was a part of that nest. He tracked us down. Said he could smell us."
"Damn it," Lizzy sits down Indian-style in front of him and sigh. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to back you up."
"Me too," he answers back, tone not concerned enough. He sounds completely defeated.
"Looks like you handled it though… right?" Lizzy tries to lighten everything up for him, thinking he's just freaked out by handling his first monster on his own.
"Not as well as you think," Dean answers before sniffling, giving him away.
He's crying.
"Dean, it's alright…."
As she tries to assure him he picks up his head for the first time. She sees it all right then. Dark, drying blood smeared across his mouth. His eyes are unnaturally bloodshot. Skin pale.
She freezes, brain ceasing to work. She knows what she's looking at but she can't seem to grasp it. It's too harsh.
"You gotta do some things for me," Dean tells her.
Lizzy just stares, shaking. Out of sheer instinct she tries again to touch him, wanting to comfort him.
The moment her hand comes near his face, undoubtedly to cup his cheek like she always does, he can hear it. The beating of her heart, the rushing of her blood, the smell of her….
"Don't touch me!" Dean tries again, this time pushing her back a couple feet to put some distance there. The closer she is the harder it is not to simply drain her while he's still not too far gone to love her very much. She back on her ass on the carpet, eyes wide with surprise at him. "I'm… sorry," he quietly tells her, ashamed.
"Dean, I… uh…." She can't get words to form. "What's happening here?'
"You know what's happening here," Dean tells her, a tear falling from his eye and slowly rolling down his cheek until it mixes with the blood still on his face.
"No…" Lizzy denies it all.
"Lizzy…."
"No!" Lizzy shout in his face when the fear truly hits. "That's not what happened!"
"It did…"
"I need you!"
"I'm finished, Liz," Dean barely can get the words out. It hurts so much.
And it sinks in. He's a vamp. He got turned. He's surrendering to it all.
And Dean's about to die.
"I need to call Bobby," Lizzy says reaching into her back denim pocket.
"Don't do that."
"He'll know what to do…."
"No he won't!" Dean shouts, his tears coming faster now. "You and I both know there's no cure for this! No one knows one!"
"Someone has to!"
"Lizzy!" Dean shouts as he sees the panic settling in. "I know it's hard, I get it, but I need you to focus here. I don't have long before I can't fight this thing."
"Don't say that," Lizzy says weakly her eyes filling up instantly. "Baby, please…."
"Stop and fucking listen," Dean begs of her, staring hard at her as her eyes spill over. "I need you to listen to me, please."
Lizzy shakes her head in denial and looks away, unable to see at him like this.
"Liz, if you love me you'll hear me out. As hard as it is."
She makes a sobbing sound and slams her eyes shut, taking a moment to cry into her hands covering her face. This can't be happening. She just met him. It was only five month together.
She sniffles hard and looks at her husband, the man she loves with shocking strength. He looks worse every second, eyes hollow and dark.
"I need you to make sure Sammy's ok," Dean tells her. "You gotta watch him. You gotta make sure that Azazel and that demon army leave him the fuck alone."
Lizzy simply cries harder.
"He's gonna need help. And now, I can't…." Dean can't finish the statement. He wipes a hand down his face to get rid of the tears. "Just please, make sure my little brother's ok, alright?"
Lizzy nods, meaning it despite her inability to speak.
"Take care of my wheels," Dean asks. "I know you don't get it but she's… that's my girl. Well… my first girl." The smile is so slight but there. "If you can't or you need help just ask Bobby. He'll know what to do with her. But I want you to have her. I trust you."
"No," Lizzy sobs out once more when it keeps getting more real and she can't figure out how to manage it. He's saying goodbye.
"Tell Bobby and Karen thanks," Dean keeps right on going. "I, uh… I've never had real parents before, not for so long… just tell them thanks."
She nods again.
Dean takes a deep, unsteady breath. "Liz."
With just the sound of her name her sobbing gets worse. "Please… don't leave me."
"I don't want to," Dean tells her, barely holding it together either. "This is the last…." His face wrinkles with pain. "I love you."
She audibly lets out a whine of sheer anguish.
"God, I just met you…" he says, not even knowing what he's trying to say. "I just…. Ugh. Liz, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me."
"I love you so much," she weeps, heart breaking into tiny pieces. "I can't do this with without you. Please, this can't be really happening."
"I'm so sorry," he apologizes, tears continually falling as he speaks. "I wish you didn't have to go through this."
"We were gonna get out," she says. "Just a little bit longer and… and we were gonna… be out of this shit. Move to California."
"You still need to move out there."
"Without you?" she asks, pure devastation in her tone with the idea.
Dean hangs his head.
And Lizzy sobs some more.
"I need you to do it."
"No!" Lizzy says with total horror, knowing what he means.
"You have to."
"I can't do that. Dean, I can't."
"I don't want to ask this of you… but you gotta do it," Dean's green eyes plead with her when he looks up. "I'm barely hanging on. I'm doing all I can to stay over here… I won't last much longer. I'm starving."
"I'll call Bobby…."
"You'll be dead by the time he gets here," Dean promises, getting very serious.
"You wouldn't kill me," Lizzy tells him, absolutely sure of it.
"You can't feel this," Dean tries to make her understand. "And it wouldn't be me killing you. It'd be… I'd be something else. You gotta put me down before this thing makes me not me. I don't want to become a monster. And I don't want you seeing me like that."
It gets silent in the room after that aside from Lizzy's sobbing and Dean's inability to breathe evenly. The heavy burden put on both of them more than either was ready to deal with. Neither looked at the future as grim or sad. They'd held too much hope to see past an inevitable tragedy.
"You're the only thing that makes me happy," Lizzy blurts out.
Dean looks at her and smiles. "I forgot how happy even felt until I met you. Liz, these were the best fucking days of my entire shitty life."
"It's not fair," Lizzy weeps.
"Hey, if I gotta go out now at least I knew what it was to be stupid happy before I meet my maker, right?" He shares a half, pathetic excuse for a laugh.
Curling up in a seated ball, Lizzy falls into a fit of sobs that couldn't be rivaled. Dean was the fucking air in her lungs and he's being taken away. She honestly feels like she's the one about to die.
"I can't kill you," she tells him for sure. "Please, Dean. Please, don't make me do this."
"It has to be you," Dean says to her, certain. "I know it isn't right and I know how hard it is to ask you this… but I need it to be you."
"Why?" Lizzy wonders, not getting why it is that she has to be the one to do this heavy deed.
He smiles at her wide, it looking wrong in the moment but it's so warm and loving Lizzy can't look away from it. It feels like home. "If I'm gonna die today… I want you to be the last thing I ever see."
Lizzy collapses. "That was so lame," she tells him through her hiccupping mess of emotion, unable to even hazard a single look his way after that. She buries her face in her hands and lets it all out, the racking sobs ugly and horrible.
Dean lets out a quiet laugh while sniffling, her words just what he needed to remember why he loves her. She's funny. She's sweet. She cares too much and works too hard and would probably die from stress at age forty-five if the life didn't get her first. She's brilliant and sharp, she's strong physically and stronger mentally. She wants what's best for everyone, even at the expense of her own wellbeing.
And that's why she needs to do this for him.
"Just get it over with," Dean asks of her. When Lizzy pulls her hands away from her face she sees the handle of a machete being held out towards her. When she locks eyes with Dean he nods. "I'm ready. I know it has to be done."
"I can't."
"You can."
"I can't kill you, Dean!"
"I'm already dead," he half scoffs with disbelief that they're here right now, dealing with this situation.
"This is my fault," Lizzy cries out. "Oh God, it's all my fault."
"It's not…" he tries to stop her but he can't. She's losing it quickly.
"No! It's my fucking fault! I let you come along. I should have told you hell no, ditched you in California…."
"I would have followed you. You couldn't have stopped me," Dean assures. "This isn't your fault. I did this for my brother and no one was gonna stop me from that."
"But I should have tried," she heavily sobs out with total regret.
"You did the right thing," Dean turns it around. "You knew I was getting into this life no matter what you did. Instead of try and stop me you trained me."
"Not well enough," Lizzy cries.
"No one blames you, Liz," he needs her to know. "I don't, not at all."
Watching her hugging her legs, Dean nearly dies of heartache when she says into her knees, "I don't want to live without you. I don't want to do this alone."
Looking away from the sad scene, Dean's eye spill over hard. He's trapped in a weird place between human emotional and complete love for this one person and absolute desire to feed and give into the darkness growing by the second inside of him.
"Liz, you'll be fine," Dean tries to tell her, the sob caught in his throat making him sound as unsure as he is. "You go to California. You find Sam. You'll… protect him. You do what I was gonna do. And… just live. Lizzy, just go out there and live a life. A really good one, ok? Don't become me."
She just shakes her head as it's pressed to her knees.
"Get a job, be normal. Bobby was right. You're heart's not built for this," he tells her, crying with the truth. "You care too much. Instead, just spend your time making sure Sammy's safe and… God, Liz. Be happy."
"I am happy," she weeps and lifts her head, red watery eyes staring right at him. "You. You make me happy. I'm not happy without you."
Dean nods and closes his eyes. It makes total sense to him. "Knowing you… I've never been happier in my life. Thank you for making everything… just good for the first time in so long."
When she falls into yet another fit of sadness Dean's torn. He's dying to get closer to her, to hold her, comfort her… but if he does there's a good chance he attacks her. He would never do that to her.
"Damn it." An Idea hits. Dean gets up from the corner of the room and rushes to the weapon bag by the door. He rifles through it quickly as Lizzy watches. When he pulls out a roll of duct tape he moves sharply and hastily, pulling free the loose end and wrapping it around his own head several times, covering his mouth tightly. When he feels secure enough that he won't ever bite her, he rips the tape free and drops the roll.
Lizzy gets it right away. He's protecting her and finding a way to comfort her at the same time. She gets up as he walks to her and he slams into her, hugging her hard and tightly. He can feel her blood, hear it rushing and sounding so, so good. He fights it with every inch of his resolve left as he pulls her tightly, his heart shattering with her devastation.
But Lizzy doesn't think about the danger she's in. Trust is a hell of a thing. She trusts Dean even now. He'd never hurt her, vampirism or not. So she takes this moment for what it is. Her last with the one man she's ever and will ever truly love. It's terrible knowing that already but she does deep down. He is the one great love of her life.
And she has to say goodbye to that.
"Please don't leave me," she begs of him, face pressed to his canvas jacket with her arms around his middle.
He can't talk now, his words worthless at this point anyways. Anything he says now is just white noise. He's said it all. Instead, he just pulls her tighter and presses a hand to the back of her head, trying to speak through actions. He wants her to know he doesn't want to let her go either.
He isn't sure how long they stay that way but it feels like too long and not long enough at the same time. He's only getting hungrier by the second yet letting this hold on her go means it's the last time he'll feel that.
Eventually Dean backs off. He walks to the place he was sitting on the floor and picks up the machete he left there. Walking to the bed, he sits on the edge at the end and faces her, putting her a few inches taller than him. Maximum position. She can't miss and she can't have anything but her full strength behind her blow. It'll be hard enough to swing away at him once, forget if she needs another try.
Holding the cold metal of the blade, he hands it over handle first to her. With his eyes he asks her to do it, make it quick, and just send him on his way. It's over for him. And he's ready if he has to be.
Body shuddering sob let out, Lizzy slowly wraps her fingers around the handle. When Dean lets it go it drops hard by Lizzy's side. The weight of the long knife suddenly feels a lot heavier than ever before.
Trying to just simply breathe as her vision is continually blurred by never-ending tears, Lizzy takes ahold with both hands. She stares at him, his mouth so tightly wrapped with tape that his cheeks bulge slightly over it. His own eyes spill over, the trails making their way from skin to shiny silver duct tape.
"I love you… so much," she weeps, her voice torn and dying with everything. "I will always love you."
The way his expression wrinkles she knows he's saying it right back to her, his eyes peering into her hard one last time.
Lizzy steps up to him one last time, pressing her lips to his clammy, wrinkled brow and showing him how much she cares, how good a person he is, and how much love she interned to give him for a much longer time than just the mere months they had.
Dean lowers his lids tightly and ducks his head down a touch, absorbing the kindness and warmth that is all her as his teeth descend behind the tape. He just wants to remember this, wherever he's going. He pictures her behind his closed eyes, making sure the last image in his brain is of her.
He clasps his hands, sits there tensed up, and waits as he can feel her backing up again. He waits for it to be over. The pain of hunger, the darkness creeping its way through him, the changes happening too quickly for him to ever hold it off… he needs it to end before he does something horrible.
Lizzy gathers every ounce of emotional strength she has in her and winds up. She has to do this before she watches the love of her entire life turn into the very thing she hunts and hates. She has to do this. She has to.
But can she ever come back from this?
Inhale and get ready, exhale and swing. She knows what to do.
She inhales deeply, looking at him waiting there. Her breath is shaky at best. She winds up.
Before she can swing, Dean's eye fly open. They're lit up a brilliant white and his face is contorted in pain. She can hear him scream from behind the duct tape as the light grows brighter and brighter by the second, his voice tortured and in pain. The burst explodes through the room and Lizzy has to shield her face and eyes with it, the loud ringing in her ears coming with it.
And then it's done. As quickly as the explosion came it was over and the room falls silent and still.
"What the fuck?" Lizzy says to herself, her heart hammering with fear and confusion. What the hell just happened? She was about the swinger her machete and… what!?
When she pulls her forearm away from her face and looks the room is disheveled and a mess.
And Dean's lifeless body is stretches across the mattress with his heavy-booted feet on the floor still. One look at his eyes and she's horrified.
"Oh no," she says to herself, dropping the machete and diving onto the bed next to him. On her knees, she lifts his head up into her lap and she sees it. His eyes are burnt out, just charred holes left behind in his face. The darkness of them, vacant instead of the expressive, beautiful green she's used to seeing stares up at her hollow and horrible. "Dean?" she calls his name, fully knowing he's not going to respond.
She hastily pulls and unravels the tape around his mouth and head. When it's gone it's just him, no fangs descended or traces of what he was becoming. Aside from his eyes he just looks like her Dean.
But he's not. He's gone. She's know it.
"Baby?" she tries one last time, her two fingers pressed to his pulse point in his neck. Nothing. He's dead. "Oh God," she whispers to herself, hands covering her own face in order to avoid it all for just a moment.
The pain. It's so bad. It hurts like nothing else she's ever experienced in her life. She lost her entire family and survived. But this? She doesn't know how to survive this. It's unbearable.
"I love you," she says to him as the full blown sobs come right back, her hands cradling his head into her lap with is face pressed to her middle as she tries to understand how she went from a quiet night of takeout food and crap TV while cuddled up in a lumpy bed to her entire life being ruined. She rocks him, tucked into her arms as his body grows cold along with her heart. "God, I love you… so much… please, Dean, please don't be gone…."
And let the angry reviews begin... I'm ready. I can take it.
