"Want me to take over, Sam-I-Am?" Lizzy offers as she walks closer to the two digging up Carol Gregory's grave. "You take a break and be lookout?"
"I'm good," Sam assures while hauling another shovelful of dirt. "Just got started anyways."
"Ok," Lizzy answers with obvious dislike and let down.
Sam quickly gets the vibe that she wanted him to say yes and with how quiet and weird she's been after leaving Ginny he thinks maybe Lizzy needs a second with Dean.
"Second thought," Sam says, stepping out of the shallow hole they've made so far. "I'll take that break. Let's switch. Just let me know when you've had enough."
"Deal," she returns while exchanging the flashlight for the heavy shovel and getting to work.
Sam, flashlight aimed around the yard, takes a few steps away from the two and gives Lizzy the space he knows she's looking for. That's the thing about him and Lizzy. Sure, Dean is his brother and they have a solid relationship, but he and Lizzy were, for all intents and purposes, siblings now too. Over time they've developed their own silent communication and they could read each other better than Dean could some of the time. Sam could see in an instant when Lizzy was off or needed something or was just plain floundering silently. Right now, she needs time with Dean and it's just too obvious to him.
After Sam is far enough away, Lizzy shoots a glance at Dean as he quietly digs, looking to get this done as quickly as they can. He wants at least one night off.
"Hey," Lizzy calls to him, a shovelful of dirty dumped over the side of the grave.
"Oh great," Dean complains instantly, not slowing his work at all.
"What?" Lizzy asks, confused by his reaction.
"You wanna talk," he tells her with full annoyance.
"How did you know?" she wonders, both still digging away.
"You switched with Sam and now you're using the something's-wrong-let's-talk-about-it voice."
"I have a voice like that?"
"Yes." Dean strongly states. "What's wrong?"
"This case, Ginny's story," Lizzy begins to explains. "Does it bother you at all?"
"Why would it bother me?"
"Dude, the Gregory's were madly in love and when Harold died Carol went way off the reservation."
"Yeah?" Dean responds with impatience. "And we've heard this story before."
"And every time it makes me worry," Lizzy admits as she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a long stripe of dirt behind. "Don't you ever think that this whole thing could be what we become someday?"
"No," Dean answers strongly and simply.
"No!?" Lizzy challenges with disbelief. "You've never thought just once that we could become this fucked up mess if one of us croaks?"
"L, Jesus Christ," Dean huffs as he jams his shovel into the ground with force until it sticks up out of the dirt and pauses. "You have got to stop thinking about us dying!"
"Then I've got to stop getting reminders every other day that it could happen."
"You're not dying!" Dean declares. "Ok? You're not! I've told you I'm not gonna let that happen!"
"What about you then?" Lizzy plays devil's advocate. "What if you die? What if Michael does his job and does it well and I'm left with an empty Dean-shell, drooling and thoughtless and just…. broken? I just leave you like that and move on?"
"Yeah," Dean shrugs and picks up his shovel again. "Don't dwell."
"Already tried that before," Lizzy reminds him with a caustic tone. "Didn't go too well."
"Then next time, try harder," Dean continues to try and get her to stop. They've been through this so many times before and he's tired of it. They just need to live in the present and hold onto it as long as they can. It's all they can do.
Lizzy sighs and realizes she won't get anywhere with this conversation. Dean's right. There really is no answer that'll make it all better so why think about it too much. It's a bridge they'll have to cross when they someday get there… hopefully in the far, far away future.
"So you're saying that if I'm a vegetable you'd ditch me?" Dean questions her after mulling over their conversation while digging again.
"What?" Lizzy asks quickly.
"You said you could be left with a Dean-shell," he reminds her. "What if that happened? You gonna leave me in a home or something?"
"Oh hell no," Lizzy refuses with sincerity before ruining the moment. "I'd just pull the plug."
"Such a good wife," Dean grumbles as he hoists out another shovelful of dirt.
"No, I'd still be there," Lizzy smiles, knowing it to be true. "I'd take care of you. Feed you, clean you… hell, it'd be like I finally got that kid I always wanted."
"Ok, that's kinda sick even for you," Dean comments on her thoughts.
"Yeah, sorry," Lizzy apologizes as she completely agrees. "I wish my brain didn't go to these places."
"But you can't help it."
"Not at all."
"Well I'm sticking to our life's plan as it is," Dean tells her.
"We have a plan!?" Lizzy wonders with shock. Who knew?
"Eat, drink, and fuck a lot," Dean tells her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes as he works. "For tomorrow we'll die."
"Did you just kind of quote a Dave Matthews song I played on the way here?"
"Huh," Dean thinks about it. "Yeah, I think I did."
"Oh I am so changing you," Lizzy smirks. Dean hated Dave Matthews at first. Called them cheap ass, Nuevo-riche-hippie Phish wanna-bes. She knew that even if he said he didn't care for the band in the beginning that she'd gotten him to come around.
"Shut up." His only recourse when wrong and well aware of it is to tell her to shut up. Sadly he has to use it often.
"Speaking of eating, drinking and fucking a lot…" Lizzy says, quickening her digging pace. "Let's get this shit done so we can do just that."
"Ah, yes please!" Dean responds, moving faster also.
"We all ready?" Sam asks up from the fully dug grave as he prepares to break open the coffin they found.
"As ever," Dean remarks, keeping an eye out around them.
"Ok," Sam answers back as he brings the shovel overhead. With Lizzy and Dean ready above ground, salt and lighter fluid along with shotguns filled with salt rounds in hand, Sam brings the tool crashing down on the weakened wooden boards. With a loud crack the cover caves in and the corpse of Carol Gregory comes into full view.
"Let's do this," Lizzy says as Sam climbs out. She takes the canister of salt and begins dumping copious amounts of it over the corpse while Dean douses it with lighter fluid before she feels it. A solid blow right to the gut. Lizzy drops the canister on the ground as she flies backwards a good ten feet, landing on her back on the lawn.
"I'm fine," she struggles out quickly before Dean can even ask, the air half gone from her lungs as she curls up on the ground and clutches her stomach momentarily. "Just burn the bitch!"
Sam picks up the salt and continues on in place of Lizzy. From behind them they hear Lizzy's gun go off and they both turn in time to see the ghost dissipate with one of the iron rounds she loaded her Glock with earlier.
"A little faster, guys!?" Lizzy bites as she gets off the ground. "I think she likes me." For some reason Carol came for her a second time when it was Dean and Sam prepping to get rid of her for good.
Once properly coated in salt and accelerant, Dean reaches for his lighter. Carol Gregory shows up again, this time directly in front of the now standing Lizzy. Before she can get another shot off the ghost plunges its hand into her chest and grips her heart tight.
"This is where your life is headed," the deep and echoing voice of the ghost says to her.
Lizzy yells out in pain when she feels the icy fingers deep in her chest, her heart screaming in pain.
"L!" Dean shouts to her and hands Sam the lighter before marching swiftly in her direction, trustee sawed off in his right hand.
"You feel that heartache?" Carol asks her, Lizzy still struggling under the ghost's hold. "Get used to it!"
With the loud bang of the sawed off, Carol dissipates into the air once more, letting Lizzy go. As she takes a deep breath and starts falling to the ground, Dean catches her by the shoulders and pulls her up.
"You ok?" Dean asks her, eyes wide and searching her face for signs that she might not be.
"Fuck," Lizzy complains, a hand to her chest where Carol had grabbed her. She looks past Dean to see the fire flame up out of the hole in the ground. "Yeah. Think I'm good."
"Good," Dean says, hesitantly taking her answer as truth. She has lied before about if she was ok or not so he never knows when to trust her positive answers to that question.
"Man, what a bitch," Lizzy complains as she cradles her chest and walks towards the fire.
"You good?" Sam asks her once she's near and she nods back in confirmation.
"Usually."
"Hey, how come she didn't fuck up your shoulder like everyone else?" Dean questions. "Everyone who shows up here gets a ghost shot through the shoulder just like her son. What gives with you?"
"Uh," Lizzy starts as she thinks about what Carol said to her. "She was warning me instead?"
"Bout what?" Sam has to know.
"About becoming like her I think." Lizzy looks over to Dean. "She told me that I was going to end up like her. Guess she could read me."
"Uh, comforting," Dean responds as he chooses to once more brush aside the comment. "Let's finish this crap up and go get some drinks."
"Yes!" Lizzy resoundingly replies, loving the way a good stiff drink sounds right about now while pulling her shirt away from her body and looking down the open neck to evaluate the damage. "Fucking figures."
"What does?" Sam asks while gathering their stuff.
"For the first time in a very long time I was mark free," she starts to explain. "No scratches, bruises, wounds of any kind. I could almost pass as a normal civilian. Now…" she pulls the neck of her t-shirt down to reveal the already dark bruising and blackened damage Carol left her with. "Not so much."
"Ouch," Dean comments while stepping closer and peering down her shirt. "Does it hurt?"
"Uh, yeah," she says with obviousness.
"How about here?" Dean asks, pressing lightly on her ribs under the guise of looking for further damage.
"Nah, I'm good," Lizzy assures.
"How 'bout here?" Dean tries again, this time grabbing her right breast with a shit eating grin.
"No Dean, my boob feels fine," she says with fake bother.
"And here?" his grin goes to full wattage as grabs her left boob also and has to hold back a laugh.
"I get hurt and you use it as a way to feel me up?" she laughs while pushing him away, the effort causing her to say 'ow' quietly.
"I'll always take every opportunity I can get," Dean tells her while pointing at her.
"Well next time have the decency to buy a girl a couple drinks first," Lizzy shakes her head in faux disappointment.
"We get outta here fast enough I'd be glad to!"
Happy is not an emotion hunters are used to, especially the Winchesters. That's why when they find themselves having fun and being generally happy they're somewhat shocked. Luckily, since Lizzy's been around, she's gotten them out of their funks when they fall into them now and then and she always seems to know how to get them out.
"You guys suck, you know that?" Lizzy tells the men as she lines up her cue to sink the eight ball. As 'Keep on Rockin' in the Free World' plays she takes her shot, eight ball in the corner pocket. She then smiles. "I thought you both hustled for a living?"
"We do, smart ass," Dean complains as he kills his current beer.
"Well never send a man to do a woman's job of bringing home the bacon then," Lizzy remarks. "Because I just mopped the floor with you two."
"And you're such a gracious winner," Sam pokes fun.
"Aw, don't be mad Sam-I-Am," Lizzy patronizes a she stands in front of him and reaches into his back pocket. She takes out his money clip and pushes it into his hand. "Just buy my next drink as per the terms we set out."
"Nah, I got this one," Dean offers as he walks towards the bar. God damn it he hates losing, especially to Lizzy, especially when it's only her versus the two of them. As much as he brags when he wins, she is always way worse. And losing to a chick? Never an ego boost. Especially not when the chick is his own wife. Now he'll happily go buy beers as he just wants to get away from her for a second.
Once at the bar he looks for the bartender that they've been going to all night. Lizzy tipped well the first round, ensuring fast service for them for the night. It's a smart move that she uses most times they go out.
Standing at the now busy bar, Dean nods to their bartender and he smiles back, letting him know he'll be over when he can.
"What does a person have to do to get a drink around here?" the woman next to Dean complains quietly to herself as she looks impatiently around the bustling pub.
"You been waiting long?" Dean asks her, striking up a friendly conversation. The girl is cute, he thinks. She's petite with long, strawberry blond hair and big dark eyes. She has on a tight long sleeve black t-shirt with dark jeans and some heeled black boots. She looks up at Dean with a wrinkled expression.
"Yeah, way too long," she says with a grumble, her hands crossed over her chest, her black fingernails tapping impatiently on her biceps. "This place is never this packed, I swear."
"Huh," Dean says with a huff. "Strange. Usually it's the cute girls that get the bartender's attention first, even with a crowd."
"What's that supposed to mean?" the girl asks him with a bite in her tone and her face set in a scowl.
"Well… I just mean you're a good looking girl…"
"Shocking," the woman cuts him off rudely. "A guy hitting on the closest female the first chance he gets. Never seen this before."
"Whoa," Dean holds out his hands in defeat. "Lady, I'm just…"
"God forbid you just talk to me without trying to get into my pants."
"I'm not trying to get into your pants," Dean assures her quickly while pointing to his left ring finger. "See. Married. No pants entering."
"Please," the woman disbelieves. "Being married means nothing these days. Men don't take anything as sacred anymore."
"Well, that's just a giant load of crap," Dean quickly tells her, receiving a wide eyed, shocked look from the girl.
"Excuse me?" she asks him with utter shock at his denial of her comments.
"I take my marriage very seriously," he explains himself. "A few years ago, yeah, you'd be right. I probably would have been hitting on you. Actually…" he looks her over again. "I would have."
"That's very honest of you," she responds with yet more anger and sarcasm.
"But seriously, I was just trying to be nice to a person who seemed upset." Dean turns away from her and leans his elbows on the bar, wondering what must have happened to this girl to make her such a pissed off individual. "Big mistake."
"What can I getcha?" the bartender asks Dean once he makes his way over.
"Another round and three shots of Jameson," Dean responds before glancing at the overly reactionary petite woman to his left out the corner of his eye. "And get this angry little Poptart whatever she wants on me before she loses her shit."
"Poptart!?" she nearly yells with disgust as she shoves Dean in the chest with both hands with his insult.
"Hey!" Dean stares at her with wide eyes. "What are you, nuts?"
"Disgusting!" she shouts at him. "You are disgusting!"
"Oh please," Dean brushes off as he prepared to start giving her a litany of reasons as to why he's innocent and she's a psycho bitch. However, he stops himself when he sees Lizzy swiftly making her way over to them. "Fucking great."
"What?" the woman asks with sheer confusion.
"Just remember, you brought this on yourself," he nearly laughs as Lizzy reaches them.
"The fuck is going on here?" Lizzy asks loudly after witnessing the woman push her husband.
"This your wife?" the girl asks Dean.
"Yeah, I'm his wife," Lizzy answers for him in an angry voice. "And his wife would love to know why a skinny little bitch just pushed her husband."
"You married a pig," the shorter woman explains. "He was hitting on me."
"Oh yeah?" Lizzy asks, thinking that her claim was ninety percent bullshit. Then again, he was Dean. He did still have eyes and she knew what she married. She turns to ask him herself. "Did you hit on her?"
"Of course not," Dean calmly says, knowing Lizzy will believe him. "She'd been waiting for service for a long time and I said it was weird because the cute chicks usually got drinks first."
Lizzy turns back to the woman. "What, you don't know how to take a compliment?"
"You believe him, that he wasn't hitting on me? Just like that?" the woman asks, shocked by the trust the two have in one another.
"Ah, yeah. I do."
"Why?"
"Because he's never given me a reason not to believe him," Lizzy quickly explains their relationship before stepping forward into the girl's space. "What's your excuse for being so damaged?"
"I'm not damaged. I'm smart," she says. "I only trust other women as men have proved to be lying, worthless and weak."
"Oh, I'm so sorry you've only dated assholes before," Lizzy sarcastically says to her. "But my man is a good one. It's a shame you haven't been as fortunate."
"Hey," Dean wraps his fingers around her forearm and gets her attention. "Let's go play pool, huh?"
Knowing he's just trying to prevent a bar fight, Lizzy listens. "Fine." She turns to head back to the table when the woman asks her a question.
"Would you love him no matter what?"
"What?" Lizzy wonders as she looks back to the woman with utter confusion.
"If he were different, didn't look like that or suddenly… changed… would you still love him?"
Taken aback by the odd question, Lizzy sighs her impatience with the woman. "Yeah, I would. I kinda promised to." She points to her wedding rings.
"We'll see," the woman mutters under her breath and brushes past the couple.
"What did you just say?" Lizzy challenges, having barely heard what the woman said. The girl turns to look at them and smiles.
"I said we'll see," she grins. She then very unexpectedly slaps Dean on his jean-clad ass and turns on her heels to leave.
Lizzy stares with utter ire at the woman as she walks away. Her nostrils flared and fists in tight, bruising balls, she asks for permission. "Baby, please…"
"No," Dean immediately denies her request without a second thought.
"Come on!" Lizzy angrily begs. "She's asking for it!"
"No way," Dean calmly explains. "She's not worth it."
"Just let me kick her ass!" Lizzy says as the woman winks at her from the doorway before leaving. "Oh fuck this!" Lizzy takes two steps towards the front door but Dean pulls her back, hooking an arm around her waist and pulling her away from the path to the door.
"Stop," Dean calmly tells her. "It's very nice that you want to beat her to a pulp for being a bitch to me."
"I know, right!?" Lizzy huffs like a pissed off child told to go to bed.
"But that's what you'd do… beat her to a pulp. She's tiny and doesn't stand chance." Dean kisses her on the cheek before letting her go now that he's sure Lizzy won't chase down the girl since he asked her not to. "Plus, if you get arrested for assault and battery, who am I gonna go home with tonight?"
"Sam," Lizzy dryly answers. "I'm sure he gets lonely sleeping all by himself all the time."
"Yeah, that is true. But he always wants to spoon afterwards," Dean jokes to her while making a grossed out face as he picks up the three bottles of beer in one hand and a shot in the other. "Grab those two shots?"
"Yeah yeah," Lizzy grumbles, still itching to punch that pain in the ass chick in the face. She picks up the two shot glasses and follows Dean back to the pool table.
"What the hell happened over there?" Sam asks the second they make it back to him. He saw Lizzy rush off towards Dean before looking about ready to drop some poor girl standing by the bar. He isn't sure what happened.
"L learned how to regulate her anger," Dean says with nonchalance.
"Oh is that all?" Sam asks. "I didn't know that was possible."
"Eat me, Sam," Lizzy says while still stewing just a little.
"That anger doesn't sound very regulated to me," he laughs right back at her.
"Hey, that bitchy chick left with her nose unbroken so I'd say it's regulated," Dean says as he clinks his shot glass with Lizzy's, both downing the whiskey.
"Damn fucking straight," Lizzy returns while tipping up the third shot and taking that one also.
"Uh," Sam starts with offence. "Wasn't that mine?"
"Nope. It became mine when you made fun of me."
Sam just shakes his head no before looking at Dean. "You're taking care of her tonight, not me."
"Oh, I'll take care of her," Dean slickly says while Lizzy lines up to break, the tension still in her shoulders. The force of her shot lets him know she's holding that anger in pretty hard right now which just means that later he'll have to make sure she lets it out… on him preferable. The thought alone makes him way too excited. "I'll take care of her good, Sammy."