Disclaimer: Sam, Dean, and anything else of the amazing show Supernatural are all products of the brilliant Kripke. Anything else, is MINE! Except the songs used, Trace Adkins- Bring It On, and Puscifer- Undertaker. Those aren't mine either.
Blue MoonChapter 11: The Power of Nudity
Troubled soul, all alone
I can feel your sadness
The pedal was pressed to the floor, as it had been since I peeled out of Jesse Warner's driveway. The sun was reduced to a half circle in a smear of crimson clouds, looking like some open bloody wound.
Sammy hadn't spoken a word the entire drive, but hey, neither had I. What was there to say? "Don't shoot my girlfriend, or I'll kill you."? Yeah, silence was definitely the better alternative.
I pulled an all too flashy left turn; complete with squealing tread marks, down Williamsville Rd. I was getting Jesse out of there, killing that evil son of a bitch, and heaven help any bastard that dares get in my way.
Before I go tell me
Were you ever who you claimed yourself to be
They were close. Minutes away, if that. I could hear that all too familiar purr of the Chevy Impala's perfectly tuned engine, smell the intoxicating scent of soap, Axe, and that unique spice that was Dean Winchester.
It was a miracle he didn't get pulled over for speeding. Twice the speed limit, he would have made any cops day, just with the prospect of that ticket money.
There was one but one problem.
The sun was setting, and I was locked in a cage with a16-ounce bleeding mass that called to my beast like spirits to psychics.
Eric was coming. I could hear the footsteps and the venomous taste of rage long before he threw open the basement door.
"You whore! I offer you love and happiness, and you bring those foul humans here to kill us both!"
"Only one of us is dying here tonight Eric, and it ain't gonna be me."
He laughed. Seriously, it was beginning to get on my last nerve. I could not afford to get angry right now either. Setting sun, fresh meat, wolfsbane, and anger. Might as well have me wear a big friggin sign in red paint with blinking lights that says BEWARE OF SHIFTER on it. Yes, in all caps.
"Do you really think they'll let you live? After knowing what you are? You can live in denial as much as you please, but in the end you are one of us."
It was my turn to laugh, and damnit I enjoyed it. There was no happiness in it. Just the sharp cruel stabbing of a thousand throwing knives.
"One of you? Hate to burst your bubble Chuckles, no, I kinda love to actually, but I am anything but you. I save people, instead of slaughtering and ruining their lives for all time. You are nothing but a psychotic, sadistic, excuse for an almost human!"
He opened his mouth to make a comeback, but immediately closed it at the sounds of gravel being ground beneath tires. Thank you God.
"We'll finish this in a minute," he growled, so deep and animalistic for anyone to know he wasn't human. At all.
You're cornered up and hunkered down
The walls are tall around you
Shotgun poised to kill, I followed Sammy around the back. Kinda pointless if you think about it though. Cause, sneaking up on a werewolf? Pretty impossible. But hey, the least we could do was try.
Through the back door we snuck inside, quiet as mice. I signaled Sammy to take one hall as I headed towards the basement. That's when I heard him scream.
I bolted into the kitchen to find my brother trapped under 200 pounds of werewolf.
"Hey furball, remember me? I fucked your girlfriend!"
In a second he tossed Sam aside and came straight for me. Perfect. I aimed down the barrel at his heart, and fell into that calm, quiet place my mind tends to slip to when I kill. Where everything is hazy, and sort of constant hum of background noise drowns out all surrounding sounds.
Before I could pull the trigger, he jerked the gun from my hands and hurled it across the room.
Shit.
"Dean!"
I dodged another fatal blow as my brother yelled for me.
"Go get Jesse Sam. GO!"
He didn't protest, he just left. The bastard sliced open my right arm, and I vaguely wondered if sending Sammy away would be the death of me. Either way, I was so gonna kill this son of a bitch.
Either way i must say goodbye.
You're dead to me
I could hear the fighting up stairs. Dean was doing well so far, but if I didn't get up there in the next few minutes, he was going to lose. Don't get me wrong, he is a fantastic hunter. But in the end he was only human, and sometimes that's not enough. This was one of those sometimes.
The door slammed open to reveal Sam Winchester. Thank you God! He tried not to look at me, and it took me a moment to figure out why. Nudity, oh yeah! The absence of clothing.
"Hi Sam, mind if I borrow your shirt?"
"Sure thing," he said, unbuttoning the shirt and passing it through the bars while keeping his eyes trained on the anything but me.
The object of his captured vision was an area of the wall, big enough to have covered two full size bulletin boards, covered with pictures. Some of myself, obviously taken without my knowledge over the past year, others of Eric and I from two years ago. It seemed like another lifetime.
I took the shirt, and rather than slipping it on, wrapped it around my hands. With those covered fingers I grasped a bar and pulled. The sound of metal groaning raised Sam's head, but he quickly looked away, wide-eyed. Behold the power of nudity.
For anyone to break through
It's gonna be a fight
I tasted blood in my mouth from the last blow, the familary coppery taste. I hgit him with another right hook before the bastard tossed me into a wall. I felt some small table break beneath me as the world around me rocked and blurred. Blinking furiously, I forced myself to stay conscious. Grabbing one of the legs, broken at a point, I shoved myself to my feet. With a smirk and a laugh, I said, spitting up blood as I attacked him.
"That the best you got? No wonder Jesse left you. You just," blow to the stomach, "weren't", swing at the head, "man enough," stab in the torso, "for her," and I kicked him into the opposite wall.
Thank You for making me
feel like I'm guilty
Making it easy to murder your sweet memory
I slipped through the gap in the bars, and wanted to scream "I'm free!", but there was no time to celebrate. Eric was down, but far from out.
I discovered when I unwrapped the longsleeved blue and white stripped button-up that it was torn in two.
"Sorry Sam. I'll buy you another one, promise!"
He shook his head, eyes never leaving mine for fear of wandering.
"Don't be, just don't let Dean get killed."
I nodded and flung myself up those stairs in a blur of crimson hair and pale skin. I never tan, only burn. But UV rays were the least of my worries as I flowed through the house, following Dean's scent with fervor.
Bring it on, bring it on
All your heartache and frustration
He got up. Anyone else would be down for the count, hell probably out for at least a few hours. Fucking werewolves, no offense to Jesse.
Still, he stood up, watching the gaping 3inch hole in his chest heal itself as if it I had never stabbed him. He looked at me, and he laughed, which sounded like a fucked up bark coming from his wolf-man form.
Then in a blur of movement, almost as fast as a Wendigo, his neck snapped, and the laughter died.
"See you in hell, Chuckles"
I'm distant in those hollow eyesI had never felt anything so satisfying as feeling that neck crack in my hands, making a wish as it broke. They always said death majick was the oldest. Probably worked better then eyelashes or falling stars.
In a moment Dean hugged my body against his, wrapping me in his dark red overshirt. I hadn't even noticed he took it off. It was like I was in shock, but not. All felt fine, but there was something ominous. Like the calm before the storm.
Ice blue eyes snapped open, and I knew the moon had risen.
My senses were alive, all five intensified a million times. Fresh death, blood, and Dean. My head was cradled to his chest, tanned and smooth and perfect. I could smell his unique blend of spice, but it was like sprinkles. His skin was the frosting on the cake. I could feel his pulse thumping away like some trapped thing. All I had to do was sink my teeth in, and I could spill that pulse free from its fleshy prison.
Oh, fuck.
You've been done wrong too long
And I'm strong enough to change it
She was completely still in my arms, and silent. I opened my mouth to say something, and she was curled up in the corner farthest away from us and the late Eric Riley. My shirt was wrapped around her as if she were cold, on an 80 degree night.
"Jesse," I asked, taking a step forward. Her voice came out an animalistic growl.
"Don't."
"Whats wrong?"
"Sunset," Sam answered for her.
Shit.
I tossed him the keys.
"Meds are in the trunk."
He nodded and left. I turned back to Jesse, when she was suddenly ay my side, crawling on all fours on the floor. It was graceful where it should have been awkward. But damn the sight of her moving towards in only my long sleeve overshirt was a major turn on. Focus Dean!
"Jesse, this is not you, listen to me."
She looked up at me, eyes silver again and full of fear.
"Its too late. The meds…they won't work. Not fast enough."
Just fucking great.
"Is there any other way to stop the change?"
She nodded. Then Sam got back.
For I have reached my endWhere Dean smelled of dominance and lust, Sam was only meat. Just food for the beast, for me. I licked one long line across his well-muscled stomach, and he shivered in terror. The fear was like a fine marinade, urging me further on.
"Jesse, fight it!," I could hear Dean demanding distantly, almost lost in the white noise that my surroundings had become. "What can stop the change?"
The elder brother had moved closer, and the smell of him and the scent of desire overpowered that of Sam. The next thing I noticed I was on my knees in front of Dean, staring up at him with ice-blue eyes that seemed lost and predatory at the same time.
"Sex."
(so glad to have finished this chapter on my one week deadline! yay me! now go leave me lotsa love while i power out Ch 12 for Pixc, because I know your probably dying right now!)