August 18th, 2008
She's depressed, but at least she had a job to distract her. After having reacquainted themselves, Lizzy went over to check out her high school friend Jenny's new house. When Jenny and Jim were in the kitchen getting wine, Lizzy excused herself to the bathroom but instead did some investigating. EMF was spiking like crazy in the room they were currently renovating and she herself heard the scratching sounds in the walls that Jenny had mentioned. Without a doubt, there was an angry spirit in the place.
Lizzy did her research at the library the next day and found out that the original occupant of the house, Abigail Worthington, had died there. She lived in the house alone for thirty-seven years after her husband fought in World War II and never returned. Since it was built, there had never been any construction on the place until now. It seemed clear cut; Abigail was pissed off at the renovations Jenny and Jim were doing and was making it clear as day that she wasn't going to stand for it.
That's when things got tough. Abigail was buried on the property as per her will. The grave was in the woods at the back of the house but not deep enough in to keep the flames of a good old fashioned salt and burn out of sight. She had to tell them, explain the truth, and hope they didn't think she was a nut job afterwards.
"Hey, Jenny," Lizzy says when the front door opened. It's a little after midnight but when Lizzy claimed to be able to help out with her house issues, Jenny was more than happy to have her over after her bar shift ended.
"Lizzy, come on in," Jenny smiles and lets her friend in. They sit down in the living room and Lizzy prepares for the reaction she's sure will be bad.
"Where's Jim?"
"Working an overnight tonight. Took it for a buddy of his"
"Oh, good," Lizzy smiles.
"Good?" Jenny asks with confusion.
"Oh, it's nothing. Um, ok, so I did some research on your house," Lizzy starts. "After you told me about all the weird shit going on here, I thought it might help understand some things."
"Alright…" Jenny starts with a bewildered face.
"The original owner was Abigail Worthington. She died here in the house."
"Comforting to know," Jenny says sarcastically.
"Yeah, sorry about that," Lizzy apologizes for having to inform her of the detail. "She was also buried on the property out back in the woods."
"Still not comforting." Jenny is looking at Lizzy with suspicious eyes and Lizzy just nods. She remembers when she first started learning about the previously unknown horrors of the world. It isn't a very settling experience and disbelief was her first reaction too.
"There is a silver lining here though," Lizzy begins. "With the information I gathered, I know I can help you."
"Wait, Liz, you gotta hold on for a second here. I'm confused. What does a long dead chick in my backyard have anything to do with a rat problem?"
"You don't have a rat problem," Lizzy explains as she nervously plays with the powerful pendant hanging from her neck. "You have a, uh…. ghost problem."
"What?" Jenny drawls out, completely disbelieving.
"Seriously. The original owner is still around. And before you say anything, hear me out!"
Jenny just sits with a wide eyed expression and stays quiet, despite her slightly dropped jaw.
"Look, sometimes when spirits are attached to something, like a house for example, they get angry when you fuck with it. You and Jim are renovating the place and all your problems started when you knocked out that wall, right?"
"Right," Jenny tentatively agrees.
"Well, you're fucking with what this spirit is still attached to. Abigail is pissed. And she's being annoying to let you know how unhappy she is."
"That's ridiculous," Jenny says, trying to brush off the information Lizzy gives her and ignore the fact that it all makes complete sense. There's the disbelief.
"That's what I used to think, before I knew the truth."
"And why do you know the truth?" Jenny interrupts, needing some kind of explanation.
Lizzy pauses. "Stumbled upon it a while ago. Or, I should say, it stumbled upon me. Then I just kinda went with it, learned about what's out there and how to deal with it."
"Right," Jenny says while looking down at her hands with a pained look. Lizzy is getting the feeling that Jenny isn't coming around.
"Dude, I'm not crazy, ok? I know what you've been dealing with. You've heard the scratching but you've never found a culprit. Sometimes it gets cold in the room suddenly, like freezing cold, and for no apparent reason. Stuff goes missing or gets misplaced and you don't remember moving it. You sometimes feel like someone is watching when you're alone here. Want me to go on?" Lizzy stops after seeing the recognition in Jenny's eyes. She's got her now.
"No," Jenny responds. She stands up without another word and disappears into the kitchen for a few minute before returning with two glasses of whiskey. She hands one over to Lizzy before taking a seat once more. "So… ghosts are real."
"Very," Lizzy informs her and takes a sip of the liquor she'd just been given.
"And you know how to fight them?" Jenny herself takes a big swig and looks at Lizzy.
"More like I deal with them." No need to get into the fighting aspect right now. She's damaging her poor friend enough as it is.
"So… you're like a Venkman?"
"Kinda. No proton pack though," Lizzy laughs quietly and takes a sip of the liquor. Not a good time to joke but it eases Lizzy's nerves slightly. "I know you think I'm a little off my rocker here, but I can prove myself to you. I know how to get this thing to stop."
"How?" Jenny asks with hope.
"I'd rather save you the details if I can," Lizzy says, knowing that the idea of burning buried body on her property wouldn't help put Jenny's mind at ease. "I can go deal with this right now, get it all over with, but you have to promise me a couple things."
"Shoot," Jenny says while downing a huge gulp from her glass.
"Stay inside and don't look out back into the woods for the rest of the night. I will let you know when it's all done."
"Ok, I can do that."
"And… just please, trust me."
Jenny looks over at her old high school friend and contemplates for a few moments. "Sure. I trust you, Liz."
Three hours later and Lizzy's shovel finally hits rotting wood. It's been a long night out there by herself and it's first time she's had to do that much digging all on her own.
"Holy shit do I miss you right now, Louie," she mutters to herself. What she wouldn't give to have Lou back to help. A partner really did come in handy. The thought makes her wonder how Sam is doing as she brings the metal shovel over her head and slams it down full force to break the coffin. He's alone just like her now. He's probably had this thought before too. It's been a while since they'd talked and of all days she should call him today.
It was Dean's three month anniversary. Three months in hell. Sam can't be handling it well. How could he, honestly? She still worries about him every damn day, just like she agonizes over Dean's damnation and mourns Lou's untimely death.
She dumps the rock salt over the bones inside the coffin, followed by plenty of lighter fluid. How ironic. Dean asked her to live a normal life, be happy and average and stop hunting. Yet three months to the day since he was tossed into the pit, here she was torching a body and dispelling a ghost. She wonders if he'd be mad. On the one hand, she was helping a good friend and it was an easy, danger-free hunt. On the other hand, he asked her to stop and she hasn't. She also hasn't moved on, not at all.
Sure she tried to at least start to move past everything, several times actually, but at some point she always finds it impossible. The thought of life without him still didn't make any sense to Lizzy. Like she's said before, she believes in the idea of fate whole-heartedly. Certain things come to pass for certain reasons and she knows deep inside that she and Dean were one of those things. They were supposed to still be together, still have a purpose together, but hell must have had other plans.
Lizzy lights the matchbook in her hand and holds it out to let it properly start burning. She tosses it into the grave and the body lights up. Taking a seat on the ground while the flames grow more and more, she feels the sadness grow within her.
"Dean, I'm sorry," she says as if he could ever hear her. "I'm trying, I am. But it's so hard, so fucking impossible to be normal. Like I told you, I'm not normal. And I miss you so much." She sighs out heavily as her vision blurs. "Still haven't figured out how to let go of the idea that you're down there. God, I hope you're being a stubborn ass still. Don't let them win, don't ever. You can't."
She presses her palms into the soft ground in front of her, wishing there was a way to see him, get him back for just a second. The tears fall again and she's so tired. Tired of missing people, tired of being alone, tired of crying, and tired of trying to be something she isn't.
"Still love you too much to move on," she whispers quietly. "God, I'm terrified that I always will."
"It's the big three-zero today Dean," Alistair taunts as the new day begins. "Happy anniversary, muffin."
"Do I really have to say it again?" Dean spits out at the demon. Alistair just smiles in return. "Alright, I guess I do. Shove it up your ass, Alistair!"
"Aw, you're so mean to me Dean. And here I was ready to celebrate. Even got you a present."
Dean furrows his brow at the information. It unnerves him to hear what Alistair says. A present from this demon is never a good thing as he's found in the past.
"See, I got tired of waiting for you to join my team, so instead, I'm moving on to someone new. Someone with more potential."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm over you, Dean baby. We're breaking up. A newbie arrived today and I've taken an even bigger shining to her than I have to you. Once I'm done with her, she's gonna be… brilliant."
His heart races. Who the hell is Alistair talking about?
"I think you two should be roommates. It'll be way more fun to torture her in front of you anyways. Way, way more fun."
"No," Dean whispers, his heart racing as he puts it all together. She couldn't be down here. Oh shit, what did she do?
"In fact, I think you'll love her, Dean." Alistair laughs loudly and snaps his fingers. The rack across from him appears out of thin air once again but this time, instead of John, it's Lizzy strapped onto it.
"What the fuck is going on? Where the hell am I?" Lizzy panics while looking around, completely frightened by her sudden surroundings. Her eyes dart around the room quickly until she finds Dean. Her eyes grow wide with the recognition. "Dean! What the f… Oh, shit!" He panics when the realization makes itself known on her face.
"You son of a bitch!" Dean shouts out to Alistair. "Don't you touch her!" He struggles against his restraints, much like several times before, out of sheer instinct and, much like several times before, he isn't getting out.
"Easy there, Hot Shot," Alistair taunts back, emphasizing the use of Lizzy's nickname for him. "This dumb little whore of yours made a deal topside and when her time was up, well, let's just say her elevator ride took her to the basement level. She's mine now and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it, unless of course…"
"No!" Dean shouts, refusing once more to get down out of habit.
"Then I guess the fun begins," the black-eyed demon snarls while grasping his favorite razor and heading Lizzy's way.
"No! No! Dean!" Lizzy screams out as Alistair drags his razor along the skin over her ribs, leaving an open, vicious, and bleeding line in its wake. "Dean, please, I was just trying to save you! I love you! No!" Her eyes shift to Alistair briefly, horror painted across her face with the sight of him, before looking back to Dean once more.
"Just hang on, L. Be strong," Dean tries to encourage her, for what reason he doesn't know. If she's really down here with him, if she really made that deal, this is a completely unbearable eternity for him now. If this was now his every day, he isn't going to make it through. Alistair found it finally. His breaking point.
"Don't let this happen to me, please! Ah!" The demon filets a long line of skin off of her side and she screams out in the burning pain.
"I've got sunshine…" Alistair sings. "On a cloudy day."
Her tears begin to fall and Dean's heart absolutely shatters as Alistair continues his work, ripping into her without abandon.
"Oh God, no," Lizzy cries, tears falling fast now and face twisted with the utter agony as Alistair is relentless.
"When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May."
He can't watch this, can't allow this to happen. He can't let her be down here like this. She deserves better, she is better, and hell is not where her soul belongs.
"I guess you'd say," the demon continues, flesh dropping away as he skins her alive, Lizzy's tormented screams filling Dean's ears. "What can make me feel this way? My girl."
"Ok!" Dean shouts out, overcome with absolute fear for her safety.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Alistair asks while pausing mid-slice, half of his razor still buried within Lizzy. "I couldn't hear you over the screams of agony your little slut is making. What was that?"
"I'll do it, I'll get down," Dean agrees as the tears of his own trail down his face. "Just let her go, get her outta hell, and I'll do whatever you want. Please, please leave her alone."
Alistair closes his eyes and smiles wider than Dean's ever seen him do.
"And so it is written," the elated monster growls and with another snap of his fingers Lizzy is gone and Dean is standing free, no longer tied to the same rack he's been on for thirty years straight. It feels good to be out and Dean allows himself the very quick moment to enjoy the sensation before he's left wondering what happened to her.
"Where is she?" he asks with fire. "You better have held up your end, you asshole."
"Ah, my friend, my student," Alistair drops his arm around Dean's shoulders. "She's back right where she belongs. Roaming the Earth and living free."
Dean nods without a word as he sighs out in relief. As long as she's safe he'll survive whatever comes his way. It's now that he hopes that everything he just witnessed was real, that his agreement to get down was not for nothing.
"You know Dean, I've been waiting for this moment for far, far too long. Oh, I've got goose bumps just thinking about it." The demon reaches down for Dean's hand and wraps his new pupil's fingers around the handle of his beloved razor. "We've got some serious work to do, grasshopper."
"The damn thing changed its MO?" Bobby questions the man on the phone with him. "What the hell, Don?"
"Asking you the same thing! That's why I called," explains Don. They'd been hunting acquaintance for a long time now, using each other for information and help quite often. It was Bobby's turn to help Don as the hunter is highly stumped by a current case. "First the ghost kills students by shooting them, and without bullets mind you. Suddenly it now kills by slicing wrists. How does a fucking spirit changes its pattern like that?"
"Huh," Bobby wonders out loud as he remembers something Sam and Dean went through years ago that sounds a lot like this.
"Huh, what?" Don asks impatiently on the other line. "Three people are dead. The campus is freaking out. I need to figure this out and fast!"
"There been any stories going around 'bout this?" Bobby questions. "Articles or local legends being brought up?"
"Someone put the story in the school's newspaper," Don tells him as Bobby hears rustling paper in the background. "Wrote about the guy who died in the admin building fifty years ago. Said there are two stories behind what happened to him. Legend goes that the guy killed himself when his wife caught him cheating. One version says he did it by shooting himself in the head. The other story, the lesser known version, or lesser known until now at least, is that, more likely, he slit his wrists."
"You idjit," Bobby tells him once it's clear. "It's a fucking Tulpa."
"A Tulpa?" he man questions disbelieving. "Those things are real?"
"Yeah they're real. The Winchester boys ran across one a while back."
"Then what do I do about it?"
"Get another story published in the paper I guess," Bobby explains. "One that says what the ghost is scared of or can be stopped with. Once people read it, they'll believe it and you can kill that thing."
"How do I go about getting a story printed in a newspaper?"
"I don't know. That's your job!" Bobby's annoyed. "And be careful, Don. Tulpas only come to bein' if someone wants 'em to. Somebody's stirrin' the pot at that school."
"Sound's great," Don caustically responds. "Well, thanks Bobby. Couldn't have figured it out myself."
"Eh, thank Sam if you ever run into him. He's the one who figured it out once before," Bobby explains. "Good luck."
"Thanks. Might need it," Don says before hanging up.
Bobby smiles to himself while he puts down his phone and picks up his glass. Three months later and both his boys are still helping people out. The legend lives on and it's oddly comforting on a day when he should be a wreck. It still destroys him that Dean is stuck where he is, but at least the good he did while on Earth is still being put to use. He's still saving people.
"Hi Sam," he hears Lizzy greet when she answers her phone. Her voice is shaky and he already regrets calling her today.
"Hey Lizzy," Sam responds but doesn't say anything else. He's at a loss. He felt compelled to call her and he just couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to hear from him.
"I'm so happy to hear from you," she tells him while sniffling. "Today sucks ass."
"Yeah, I know," Sam agrees. Three months gone and the pain and loss has never once let up. He woke up with Dean on his mind and went to sleep the same, if he could get to sleep at all that is. Most days were like this, his brother always in the forefront of his thoughts, but once a month it was so much worse. Crushing really. It is a cruel reminder of how he can't save his brother. He needed help.
"How are you doing?" she asks.
"As well as can be expected. How's the normal life?"
"Normal, ha," Lizzy sighs. "I just finished salting and burning the bones of an angry spirit in a friend's backyard."
"Well, normal is relative," Sam tells her. "I mean not being on the road, having a real job, all that shit."
"It's alright I guess," she explains. "Boring really. I feel weird, like I'm trying to be someone else. Now I kinda regret that promise I made."
"Well, I know Dean would be really proud of you for trying," Sam says. "He just wanted you to be safe and happy."
"Safe, that's the easy part," she sadly proclaims. "Happy… that's…"
"Fucking impossible?"
"Exactly."
"Look, I'm calling because you were right," Sam begins to explain why he called. "It's been dark, Lizzy. Really fucking dark and I don't know what I'm doing. I don't have Dean or Lou and I need…"
"Then come home," Lizzy asks of him in a calming voice. "You can stay with me or Bobby, at least for a little while. We love you and want you back, you know that."
"I do, but I can't. There are things I have to do…"
"What things are ever more important than family?"
Sam stops for a moment. She told him to talk to her whenever he needed to but how much does he tell her?
"Revenge," he states simply.
"What?" Lizzy asks.
"I shouldn't even be telling you this," Sam says. "Just please, Lizzy, hear me out."
"You're going after her still, aren't you?" Lizzy's fear is clearly present in her tone. "You're gunning for Lilith?"
"It's just something I have to do. I can't live knowing that bitch is out there. I've been looking for ways to kill her…" Sam pauses. "And I think I found one." The line is quiet while Lizzy waits for an answer. Sam doesn't give one.
"Ok, I'll bite. How can you gank her?" From Dean's mouth straight to hers. She's got to stop doing that.
"It doesn't matter. I'm not getting you involved if I don't have to. The less you know the better."
"Oh, come on! This is bullshit, Sam!"
"No," Sam continues to refuse. "For Dean's sake, I'm not saying. He wanted you out of the game and I am respecting that." Sam stands his ground.
"So I either get your half-truths that I'm not allowed to question, or I get nothing at all like I have in the past few months?"
"Pretty much," Sam says quickly.
"You fucking suck, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know." Sam smiles as he can already tell she's not going to cut him out. She's still going to listen to him and do whatever she can to help him, he knows it. That's what family's for after all, right?
"Fine you stubborn ass. Fucking Winchesters," Lizzy complains. "You know how much easier life would've been without you two douche bags interfering?"
"You wouldn't be the first person to say something like that." Not by a long shot, he thinks.
"I bet I won't be the last. Alright, I'll take what I can get from you, Sam. I'll help whenever you need it but you better not do anything stupid."
Too late, Sam thinks to himself. "Thank you, Lizzy."
"No problem," she sarcastically responds. "You're just lucky I love you so damn much."
"You too," Sam tells her, taking comfort in her statement.
"So you wanted to talk, now let's talk… start spilling, bitch."