"Mmm," Dean hums as he feels her lips land on the back of his neck while he's still lying face down in bed. What a way to wake up.
"Good morning," she says quietly as she takes a seat Indian-style next to on the mattress. Dean rolls over and looks up at her smiling face.
"Hi," he says before blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "What time is it?"
"Eleven-thirty," Lizzy says while running her hand lovingly through his sleep-spiked hair. She always though he looked down right adorable while still half asleep. "How's it feel to not be tired for once?"
"Awesome," he smiles. "How was the training?"
"Awesome," she echoes. "I think I'm starting to intimidate Mark a little though. I pinned him so good today, thought his eyes were gonna pop out of his head with surprise."
"Little ol' you?" Dean jests. He's more than well aware that when she lets her deep seated anger out physically one of two things are going to happen; either someone is getting the ass whooping of a lifetime or someone is getting the fucking of a lifetime. He personally prefers the latter.
"Oh please," she feigns daintiness with a southern bell accent. "I'm far too dignified for all that mess. A proper lady such as myself belongs at home, cooking, cleaning, and making her man happy."
Dean scrunches his face with the display. Gross.
"Aren't you glad I'm nothing like that?" she raises one eyebrow with a smirk.
"So glad," he admits while pulling her arms until she's lying on top of him. She's goofy when she's just being herself and not on a hunt. He loves that. She figured out how to keep her two lives separate. "What's the plan for today?" Dean asks while wrapping his arms around her. "Beside prepare for the storm of the century and all."
"Hang out?" Lizzy says. "Watch a movie or seven, drink some beers, maybe smoke a little?" She lifts her head, eyes hopeful, and waits for what she hopes is a positive answer.
"Yeah?" Dean asks, having learned long ago that she was a part time pothead. He was cool with it, partaking most of the time. He had to admit that it's one highly effective way for an overworked hunter to actually relax.
"If you'd be down," she adds. "Got some great stuff from a regular at my bar. I figured we could seriously unwind while the snow fell. Get under some blankets." She playfully drops her voice. "See what happens?" She wiggles her right eyebrow and makes a kissy face, earning her a laugh.
"What about what Castiel said?" Dean asks, knowing he's killing her plans. "You think maybe we should stay sharp just in case?" He's worried for sure and until Castiel comes back, they need to be on their toes.
"Party pooper," she smirks before kissing him quickly, knowing he's right. "Alright, no weed."
"Plus, I kinda wanted to, ah, get some things out today. Get your opinion on stuff," Dean cautiously proceeds, not knowing how to ask for her help still.
"You mean… you want to… talk?" she jokingly gives him a frightful look while pretending to bite her nails. "Dun dun dun!"
"Shut up," Dean tells her in an equally mocking voice.
"Lemme guess," Lizzy narrows her eyes at him, getting serious once more. "This has something to do with the awkward vibe I'm getting between you and Sam?"
Dean just gives her a questioning look, surprised that she already knew something was wrong.
"Sam's called me a several times over the past few weeks," Lizzy begins explaining after seeing his wonder. "He seemed off, like he was hiding something or like he wanted to talk to me about something but kept chickening out. And the fact that you're never around when he calls me anymore is tell-tale enough."
"Sounds about right," Dean responds.
"Crap, this is gonna suck isn't it?" Lizzy asks when she begins putting everything together. "He won't talk to me and you want to have a serious conversation? So not good." She pulls off one of her socks and drops it onto his face with a laugh.
"Nasty," Dean says with a disgusted face as he tosses it off the bed. "You're fucking weird, you know that?"
"That's kinda the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?" She leers at him with her comment.
"How am I weird!?" Dean wonders loudly.
"Unhealthy obsession with pie, the way you literally talk to your car, your serious kink for big titted Asian chicks…"
"So far all I hear is you describing the average red-blooded American dude," Dean states simply.
"Touché," she responds before singing loudly, "America!"
"Fuck yeah!" Dean finishes and she laughs. "And sorry in advance. For everything I'm going to drop on you."
"Eh, don't be," she says. "That's what I'm here for." Lizzy rolls her eyes exaggeratedly.
"It's only one of the reasons you're here for," Dean grins, a hand firmly cupping one of her ass cheeks.
"One of very many," Lizzy says while sitting up again. "Sometimes I wish there was a written guide to dealing with men bearing the last name Winchester. Would make my life a whole hell of a lot easier."
"C'mon! I'm not that bad!"
Lizzy stares at him for a moment with an expression of utter shock. "Oh yeah," Lizzy loudly says with mocking jest as she stands up. "You're a fucking piece of cake!"
"Piece of pie," Dean corrects. "And yes, I am more than aware that my brother and I are a pain in the ass at times…"
Lizzy opens her mouth to interject but Dean cuts her off.
"But, you knew what you were signing up for," he reminds her, sitting up.
"That I did," she agrees as she takes off her sweatshirt and yoga pants, looking to change out of her workout attire. "God, I smell after today. Awesome workout though."
"You know that we appreciate everything you do for us, right?" Dean quickly asks, changing the subject completely and trying to get the question out before he backs away and avoids the emotional conversation he's fully aware he's starting.
Lizzy turns quickly to him, expression blank, and freezes. She was caught completely off guard by what he says.
"What?" Dean questions.
"Just…" Lizzy pauses. "I didn't expect you to say something like that."
"Well, you know, we do… appreciate you. A lot," Dean stutters through. "Me, Sammy, Bobby, we all do."
"Wow," Lizzy whispers, never having heard any of them talk like this before now.
"We don't say that enough, or ever really," Dean says. "But… with everything that's happened… L, I don't want to know where any of us would be without you."
Lizzy smiles as she looks down at the carpet, eyes watering and lump in her throat growing by the second. She loved her men fiercely, but was more than aware of their stunted abilities to speak their feelings. She knew they were grateful, but hearing it was much more moving than she'd ever expected it to be.
"Never thought I'd hear you say that," Lizzy all but whispers, choked by her emotions. She looks up as a single tear falls down her cheek. "Feels really nice to hear you say that."
"Shit. Come here," Dean asks of her as he holds out a hand. She takes it and lets him pull her in, holding her as her heart swells. "You know how much we all suck at this crap."
"I do," she tells him. "I know it's hard for you to speak like that. And I know that you guys value me and what I try to do for all of you. But I never anticipated actually hearing it. It's not your style." She laughs lightly at the thought.
"Well, we should let you know," Dean admits. "And I think we're all getting better at dealing with our emotional bullshit since you've been around."
"God, I just want you all to be happy, or at least better," she admits. "I see so much pain and unhappiness and bottled up anger in you guys, I worry about all of you all the time. And I believe that you guys deserve better than what you've been given."
"Well, we love you for that," Dean says as he lifts her chin lightly and kisses her. As usual with the two of them, the simple kiss rapidly turns into something much more, much deeper.
"You know, I was going to head out and get some food and supplies before the storm hit…" Lizzy says as she pushes him back into a lying position and climbs atop him, straddling his hips. "… but I can go a little later, right?" She snakes her hands down his chest, taking the time to enjoy the feeling of his cut body, and runs her fingers under the waistband of his boxer-briefs.
Dean smiles up at her. "Absolutely," he responds as he prepares to dive head first into another highly effective way for an overworked hunter to actually relax.
Seven hours of straight driving and Sam is still going strong, the rumble of the engine if the piece of shit car from Bobby's yard combined with the local rock station doing what it can to calm him. His need to get to Lizzy's apartment and find out what's going on, to make sure that they're both safe, has kept him wide awake so far. The problem with driving all alone, however, is that his brain wasn't given anything to distract it. It's had the perfect opportunity to ramble and his imagination has completely taken over.
His mind tackles his biggest fear over and over. What if they aren't answering because it's too late? Castiel told him how distracted they both were and Sam is well aware that Dean's biggest weakness has always been the people in his life that matter to him the most. He knows Dean can't be on his A-game right now, especially with the distraction that Lizzy is constantly ready to provide. What if a demon took the opportunity and ran with it? What if they were hurt or worse, what if they're already dead?
No, Sam determinedly thinks while shaking his head, trying to lose the thought once and for all. Castiel would never leave them on their own and open to attack if the threat was that big. That angel has a very clearly invested interest in Dean and wouldn't risk his life like that. But then again, the angel did say that he had other problems of his own elsewhere. Maybe he himself was distracted. That's why Castiel must have gotten Sam on this in the first place. Damn it, he scolds himself mentally. He should have left the second Castiel showed up and told him there was something happening. He should have gotten into this total piece of shit car the minute they didn't answer his first few calls to them. Fucking hindsight. It was always 20/20 and it always showed up way too late.
His phone rings and he jumps, the sudden sound pulling him abruptly out of his worst-case-scenario thoughts, and he scrambles to get it out of his pocket. Checking the screen and hoping with all he has that it's Dean or Lizzy calling and sighs before turning down the volume and answering.
"Hey Bobby," Sam says with disappointment.
"Good to hear from you too," Bobby sarcastically responds.
"No, Bobby, I just thought it was…"
"Yeah, I know," Bobby says, not actually offended by Sam's low tone. "So I've been doin' some research."
"Ok," Sam says, waiting for the information he's sure he's about to get.
"And I might know what we're up against here," Bobby says. "I found some information on a couple demons that have the ability to royally screw with the weather enough to cause an early season blizzard. One of 'em is the ale."
"Not too familiar," Sam responds, never having heard the name before.
"That's 'cause they're usually found in Middle Eastern and European countries. They tend to use their powers over the weather to mainly destroy crops and starve people ta' death. Not exactly what I think is goin' on here. The motive doesn't fit none too well."
"So it's not the ale," Sam says. "What's the other option?"
"Goes by many names, the most common one bein' Laraje."
"Never heard of him," Sam comments.
"Her."
"What?"
"You never heard of her," Bobby informs Sam. "It's a she. Laraje isn't very high up on the demon food chain, but she does have some very interestin' powers, one of which is controllin' the winds and climate. From what I've read, she can control the weather but can't exactly cook up a storm of this magnitude, at least not without a little help."
"What kinda help are we talking about?" Sam cautiously questions.
"Any kind. Could be another demon, could be some powerful spells, or could be some blessed or occult items she's usin'."
"And you're sure it's her?"
"Not a hundred percent but all I'm sayin' is there's a good chance," Bobby says. "As of right now I can't find anythin' else that would be able to cook up a friggin' blizzard."
"Shit," Sam laments, knowing that if a demon has a known name, it's powerful enough to be a pain in his ass.
"I know," Bobby responds, hoping he was wrong, though after years of doing the job he knows when he's right and when he's wrong. This time, he feels right.
"Anything else you can tell me about her?" Sam asks.
"She's pretty nasty," Bobby begins. "She loves war and creating conflict between people."
"Great," Sam caustically remarks.
"But she also loves love just as much as war, though I'm not sure how she uses that yet. Need to do a little more diggin' and I'll let you know what I find."
"Alright, thanks for the update Bobby," Sam says with a small smile.
"I'll call when I know more," Bobby says. "And Sam, don't drive yourself to death. Take a break if you have to. Dean and Lizzy aren't gonna get themselves killed." He hopes.
"Yeah," Sam replies before hanging up, not believing what he's told. After everything Bobby just dropped in his lap, Sam isn't taking a break for anything besides more gas and coffee. If this demon bitch is in Lizzy's town, he really needs to get there.