Happy Halloween everyone! Not to brag, but I'm dressed as the Winter Soldier right now, and I feel pretty kick-ass right now. ;)
Anyway, on to the business of the day; the winner of the little faceclaim submissions deal. Congratulations GiraffePanda2! You've submitted the picture of the new face of Nikki Blake! Privet message me so I can get the details for the cameo of a character of your own design in this story. Congratulations!
You all can see the picture on the site I made for this story, the link is on my page.
Enjoy the extra long chapter!
~Christianne
Nikki POV
I groaned and sat up, lazily using my palm to push my curls out of my eyes.
"Hey, look who's not drooling anymore!" I heard Dean say cheerfully.
I blinked a few times before looking at him. "Oh shut up." I groaned, falling back onto the bed to rest on my elbows. I frowned a little as I recognized the jeans I had been wearing slung over the back of a chair. After I squirmed a little in the bed, I spoke again.
"Hey, uh, not to be…weird, or anything, but…why am I not wearing pants?" I asked Dean, as he pulled something from the microwave.
"I know what you're thinking, and believe me, you did that all on your own." Dean chuckled, holding a mason jar full of a grayish-purple liquid. "Now drink up, I don't wanna have to pay extra if you puke on the floor."
I looked at the jar he was holding out to me, then back at him. "What is that?" I asked flatly. It looked familiar…I think. I smelled terrible.
"That hangover crap you made Sam drink. Found the extra in your bag. Figured you'd need it." Dean said, shrugging a little.
I shook my head and swung my legs out of bed. "I don't need it. Put it away…Smells like crap." I mumbled, raking my fingers through my hair a few times before I stuffed my curls into a ponytail.
"Trust me, if I drank half as much as you did I'd need this." Dean said, holding the jar out to me again.
"I'm not hungover Dean." I snapped, standing up and going to the bathroom to change into the clean clothes I grabbed from my duffle.
"Well, that all my stuff." I said, zipping my duffle bag up, then taking my paper coffee cup off the table to take a long sip.
"Where do you think you're going?" Dean asked, not bothering to look away from the TV.
"I don't know." I shrugged. "Not here." I said, nodding once before I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed to the door. As I opened it, I saw a very panicked looking Sam about to knock. I had to lean back quickly to miss his fist.
"She—She turned." He panted.
"What?" I asked, my eyebrows lifting slightly.
"I-I couldn't grab her in time." Sam said, not answering my question.
"We'll find her Sammy." Dean assured his brother, already standing up and getting his jacket.
"I already called Bobby, he doesn't know anything." Sam said as we walked out of the motel. "Except he knew the bloodline wouldn't work."
"Hm, sounds familier. Didn't a striking, brunette Wiccan say that too?" I asked sarcastically, putting my knife on the belt of my cargo pants and adjusting the pistol stuffed in the back waistband.
Sam sent me a sharp glare, but there was a little confusion mixed into them. "They all say it'd impossible to reverse it." Sam continued, acting like he didn't hear me.
"How come she didn't turn when we were with her?" Dean asked. "You put her to bed before she wolfed out; maybe she's got to be asleep to turn." He added.
"What the Hell does it matter?" Sam asked loudly, stopping in the parking lot. "We got to find some way to help her, some legend we missed."
"Don't you think someone we know would have known?" Dean asked, looking at me. Sam followed his haze and I crossed my arms, cocking my hip.
"It's not possible Sam." I said simply, shrugging. "This type of magic cannot be undone."
"You said once that you were more powerful than any other witch in your kind's history. You're telling me that there isn't some legend the-the Crusades or something brought back that could help Madison?" Sam said in a very demanding tone.
"First of all, it's Wicca, to you. Only we can call ourselves witches." I snapped. "And unless you have six bars of silver mined by Jews under a full harvest moon in an even Leap Year in Egypt; that girl is staying a werewolf!"
"Six bars of—will that work?" Sam asked, leaning towards me with an overly hopeful look in his eye.
"No you dumbass!" I said loudly, throwing my arms up. "That's a crock-a-crap I just made up! I've been telling you the truth, but apparently that isn't good enough for you!"
Sam leaned back, almost stunned at my yelling.
"You," I emphasized the word by poking his chest with my pointer finger. "Are out of options. She's too far gone, by now, there's a part of her that's-"
"What?" Sam asked, finally starting to yell back at me. "Evil? 'Cause that's what people say about me, Nik! That's what people say about you!"
"But I'm actually aware enough to know that I'm not gonna become the real-life Carrie in every town we go to!" I yelled back at him. "I'd die before I let that happen to myself!"
Sam leaned back again, his eyebrows furrowed a little. "What-What's with you? For the past few days you've been acting like I-"
"I'm mad at you Sam!" I yelled louder, making Sam lean back a little, Dean too. "I'm mad at you! I want to help you get Madison back to her normal, happy-go-lucky life as a secretary, but it can't be done! And fine, I get it; my truth isn't the only thing not good enough for you, but that doesn't mean I'm not right!"
"You haven't even looked-"
"I don't have to 'look' Sam!" I cut him off. "In case you haven't been listening to me for the past few months, I've been cramming as much Wiccan information into my head as I can so I'm not dead weight to you guys!" I paused and threw my hands up. "I'm sorry if that isn't good enough!"
Sam looked like he was gonna yell at me again, but his phone rang. He answered it quickly. "Madison, where are you?" he asked.
I rolled my eyes, let out a little huff and crossed my arms and cocked my hip again. I saw Dean staring at me with a blank look on his face. I clenched my jaw and looked away.
"Do you see any street signs?" Sam asked, quickly going towards the Impala. Dean followed, I stayed put.
"Hold on Maddie. We're coming to get you." Sam said, getting in the passenger's side door. "Just stay where you are." Then he hung up.
"Nik!" Sam called through the open windows. "Get your herb stuff and meet us at Madison's."
"No." I said simply.
Sam looked at me, pure shock on his features. "What?" he asked, like he didn't hear me.
"No." I repeated. "I am a very powerful, intelligent and capable Wicca. I'm not a nurse—or a vet—so, no."
Sam clenched his jaw and exhaled sharply through his nose, getting out of the car. "I get it ok, you're pissed at me. Be pissed. Just go get your stuff and come help Madison-" Sam reached out and grabbed my upper arm.
Instinctively, I put my hands on his side and pushed. Sam, all six-foot-something of his stumbled back a good four yards until he hit the side of the Impala.
"No." I said again. "In my Wiccan opinion, you should put a round in her heart. You don't need me for that. You've been killing things that go bump in the night since you could hold a .45!" I snapped before turning around and walking back to the stairs.
"Nikki!" Sam yelled after me.
"Blessed herbs and plants don't just grow on the side of the highway! I'm not going to waste them on a lost cause and risk falling into a mini-coma for some girl who I don't even know. People get bit everyday by werewolves. You can't save everyone." I snapped, starting to walk back to the motel.
"And don't call me! Either of you!" I yelled over my shoulder. I didn't stop walking until I was in the motel room. I slammed the door as hard as I could, making a clock fall off the wall.
I leaned on the door and doubled over, grabbing my stomach as I let out a sound that was somewhere between a scream and a sob.
I can't believe I just did that.
I just sat and cried until I couldn't make myself cry anymore.
I grabbed my backpack and duffle bag and headed down to my own car.
"This-This'll be a good thing." I said quietly to myself as I turned the key in the ignition, making my Mustang growl to life. "This'll be a good thing." I repeated as I drove out of the parking lot.
8 days later
I sighed, pulling my arms behind my head as I closed my eyes and lifted my face towards the sun.
I was somewhere in Nebraska, I think, parked on the side of a gravel road. I was sitting on the hood of my car, my back against the windshield and my legs stretched out in front of me.
I hadn't spoken to Sam or Dean in over a week. They constantly left voicemails and text messages, but I didn't listen to or read any of them.
I needed to cool down before I did anything.
"You know, I never expected you to leave those two Winchesters." A voice said casually.
I shot up, taking the gun that was next to me, put a round in the chamber and aimed towards the familiar owner of the voice; Yellow-Eyes.
He chuckled and put his hands up in that 'unarmed' manner. "Whoa there," he laughed. "You're reflexes are getting better." He commented, smirking sickly.
"Not good enough." I said calmly from my place perched on the edge of the hood. "I'm not gonna stop training until I can put a bullet between your eyes with my eyes closed."
Yellow-Eyes chuckled. "Now that's a skill that will come in handy."
"As opposed to what? The hundreds of defensive spells I've been learning?" I retorted, still holding my gun out.
"How 'bout you put the blade away. Just here to talk." Yellow-Eyes said calmly, his arms still up in the unarmed manner. "Besides…" he trailed off slightly, taking a step forward. "We both know that if I was going to kill you, I would have done it a long time ago."
My jaw clenched painfully tight, but I slowly put my gun on the hood of my car. After I let go of the grip, I rested my elbows on my knees and scrubbed my face with my hands. "What do you want?" I asked plainly, my voice deceiving me in showing how tired I was.
"You know, leaving your boys like that…It was unexpected." The demon started off, crossing his arms lousy over his chest. "Had to adjust my plan."
"So you came here to give me another slap on the wrist." I guessed, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. "Get it over with." I muttered under my breath.
Yellow-Eyes chuckled. "Nah…You've had enough for a while. I came to make sure you're not on the edge." He corrected me.
I looked up at him with a flat, emotionless look laced with confusion. "On the edge, of what."
Yellow-Eyes shrugged. "You know, the edge." He said, only more dramatic this time. "One shove away from tripping, falling, giving up and welcoming the ground."
I slid off the hood and let out a humorless laugh. "You think I'm on the edge now?" I asked, unable to keep a (slightly cynical) smile off my face. I walked over until I was about two feet from the demon. "I've been living on the edge for the past year." I snapped at him.
"So if you're worried about me welcoming the ground, don't. 'Cause as long as you're living I have a reason to hang onto the edge for the rest of my life, if that's what it takes." I added, my fists shaking at my sides.
Yellow-Eyes wasn't looking at my face, he was looking at my hands. "Having trouble keeping it in?" he guessed.
"Stick it where the sun don't shine, ugly." I snapped, turning back to my car.
"You know, I hope we would have been able to have better communication by now." The demon chuckled.
"I have one question for you, you know, before I run you over." I said, leaning on the open door of my Mustang. "Why Chris?"
Yellow-Eyes' eyebrows rose, just slightly. "'fraid I don't know what you mean, Nikki." He finally said.
"He had nothing to do with any of this. You killed Olivia and Greg to make a point. Makes me sick to my stomach, but I can wrap my head around it. Chris was halfway across the world." I said, one hand holding the pendants of Chris's necklace in a tight fist. "I never would have talked to or seen him again if that was what it took to keep him alive. So, why Chris?"
The demon shook his head slightly, a low chuckle escaped his lips. "Sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but I didn't have anything to do with Chris."