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 Posted: Sat Apr 07, 2007 8:08 pm
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Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or any of the characters from that show. If I did, I would not be here, but in my LA mansion power out another amazing episode. Alas, the only thing I own in this bit of fanfiction is Jesse Warner.
Songs used in this chapter are 3 Doors Down~ I Feel You, and Seether~ World Falls Away
Blue Moon
Chapter One: Dreams of Death Danced In My Head
Another endless day, another seven hundred miles that’ll take me further from my home…
"What, is the thing homesick?" I asked, taking Exit 10 into Smalltown, Wisconsin.
"I don't know Dean, I'm just telling you the facts."
"Well give me a fact that explains why a werewolf slaughters his way back to this town in the middle of ********, well, maybe there’s something he wants, something he left behind."
"Or someone" I added.
"We'll find out soon enough," my little brother replied, looking off into the fields of nothing as I Feel You by 3 Doors Down flooded my Impala
"Yeah, Sam, we will."
I can't face myself when I wake up
And look inside a mirror
I'm so ashamed of that thing
I shot up of from my dream, caked in sweat, breathing as if I had ran a marathon, and feeling a heady mixture of fear and desire. What had woken me, I didn't know, but I was eternally grateful.
I squinted my now ice blue eyes shut and massaged my skull, willing the images to leave my brain. Meat, blood, ripping, tearing, screaming.
They didn't leave. Damn them.
I flung my body out of bed with all its supernatural speed, rushing to unlock the draw of my nightstand. In seconds I had my prize, and quickly popped the cap and injected my morning medicine into my brachial artery. My breathing slowed and my heartbeat stabilized as I stood before my wardrobe.
The mirror revealed that my eyes were once again their normal color, a silvery gray. Ok, not exactly normal, but their natural hue anyway. It also exposed that a cat had apparently slept on my auburn locks, which when not tangled to all forms of hell, happen to flow down to the middle of my back.
Resolved to eat breakfast, I disposed of the needle in the trashcan by the bed. I pulled on a pair of jeans over black panties, managed to clasp a matching bra and brush out my mahogany hair to some semblance of decent, when there was a banging on the door.
Not a knocking, an honest to God Big Bad Wolf I'm Going To Blow The Door Down BANG.
I could smell them, two. Men by the smell of the Axe, or hardcore lesbians. Who the ******** was at my house at...noon? OK, not entirely early...and there was that goddamn banging AGAIN.
I threw on deodorant and a quick spritz of Vanilla before sprinting down the ancient staircase to the solid oak door. The bra hid more than most bathing suits, it was good enough for me and whoever was trying to smash my door into tiny bits.
This had better be good; otherwise someone was about to get a serious verbal beat down.
They gave me a life that’s not so easy to live
And then they sent me on my way
I followed Sam up the stone walkway to the door of a Victorian house, similar to every other place in the suburbs. Only difference was this one held our key witness.
'Detective' Sam rang the bell, his usual calm and innocent self. I wish I could say the same...wait, no I don't.
My brother frowned at me as I yawned. I flipped him off. It was way too early to be awake, let alone questioning witnesses.
And damned if I was gonna stand on a doorstep all day waiting for her.
Rushing past my little brother, I knocked on the door. Hard. And Loud. Twice.
The door creaked open to reveal a gorgeous redhead dressed in skin-tight jeans that left nothing to the imagination and a black satin bra. Well, my morning was looking up.
I'm so ashamed of the lie I'm living
Ok, I just deduced that it was in fact not people at my door.
It was Titans.
You know, the mythical giants. The fact that I'm only 5'4" has nothing to do with it, honest. The two had to be at least 6'3". The pictures did NOT specify this. Or their excessive hotness.
Yes, I knew who they were. What hunter doesn't know the Winchester brothers?
"Je..Jesse Warner?" the younger of the two asked, stumbling over his speech.
I could smell his lust, but it was crippled by his own chivalry, which helped matters for me.
"The one and only. And who might you two be?"
"We're detectives Miss. Warner," Dean began, "We'd like to ask you a few questions. May we come in?"
His speech was certain, but his heart raced and his lust burnt me like molten fire. His extreme attractiveness didn't help much either, nor the Axe.
The commercials are 100% truth, it is kryptonite to all things estrogen.
"Sure thing," I replied, stepping aside to let them in before shutting the door behind them.
I really did not want them in here.
I really did not want to jump Dean, especially in front of his little brother. But if I declined, they'd suspect me even more.
Then again, if they found my meds, or the safe room, I was as good as dead anyway. God must hate me this morning, er, afternoon. Had to be why he made a blue moon this month. I cursed him under my breath. ******** commie b*****d.
Yes, I was making it official. Jesus is a nazi.
"Do you guys want some coffee? I was about to put on a pot."
So much for eating breakfast. Don't ask me why, but unless its planned, I don't eat when there’s company. I hate when people watch me eat. It makes feel like a glutton, and then I can't eat, and I starve until they leave.
Dean nodded, and Sam declined.
I disappeared into the kitchen, flipping on the coffee machine. It looked like space-age technology, one of very few bits of evidence spread through my house that proved my wealth.
I tried to keep my hormones in check by concentrating on this task. Find coffee, get mugs, have sex with Dean Winchester...hey, wait a sec.
It would have actually been better for me. The beast always wants two things, food or sex, sometimes both. If it gets one, its thirst for the other is, if only temporarily, satisfied. Problem was I couldn't sleep around in town without getting a bad rep.
Oh pride, thy sword cuts me.
I grabbed a bag of Columbian Select Hazelnut Roast and asked, loudly enough for them to hear easily,
"So, what brings the infamous Winchester brothers to my living room?"
Sticking my head out to the living room, the looks on their faces were instantly priceless, before adding, "Hunting werewolves perhaps?", and disappeared into the kitchen once more.
The look on Dean's handsome face almost drove me over the edge. ******** ******** ********, ******** Dean.
No! Bad beasty, down girl.
Concentrate! Empty bag, pour contents into drip. Add water. Get another shot. No AgNO3 this time, just straight up and wonderful Ativan. Unlock draw, get syringe, inject.
Oh sweet relief.
And what do I have to get me through these sleepless nights?
I raised an eyebrow at Sam, his eyes wide with shock. Hey, he had an expression. I didn't know he had it in him.
"And how do you know our names again?" I asked.
"Internet," she called back from the kitchen, "You guys really aren't that hard to find."
Well, that was reassuring.
"So...you're a hunter then?" Sam asked.
No, she's a god damn journalist?! Hey, you gotta admit, it was a stupid question. It was not because I've hadn't had my coffee this morning.
The gorgeous woman walking towards me didn't leave me annoyed for long, fortunately for Sam. Her smooth pale shoulders shrugged as she sat on the couch across from us.
"I suppose so. I've been chasing this guy for about a year, taking out anything else I run into along the way. Then all of a sudden the wacko decides to come back home."
Wacko. Nice choice of words. Only word I really caught actually. Her damned hand was fingering her navel ring, a dangling crescent moon. It was more distracting then a strip tease.
"So, you know the guy then? The werewolf I mean," Nice job there Dean, you moron. Just play cool, keep on the Listening Intently face.
I don't belong here and I'm not well
God why have you forsaken me?
I couldn't think, at all. At least in the kitchen I got some space, but here?! It was like I was burning alive. Putting on a shirt would help, but I was far too proud. It’s a b***h, but it’s who I am.
One hand wandered down to fumble with the silver bellybutton ring, the pain keeping me preoccupied. My eyes met Dean's, and I stopped. I was making him worse. Damnit. How much Ativan could I take before I passed out?
"Yeah, his names Eric Brown. We went out for a few months, till I broke it off. He starting stalking me, I started avoiding him. He killed my grandparents to cap it off."
"Nice guy," Dean quipped with a grin. I smiled back. Maybe the Ativan was kicking in.
"So, you were there the night it happened. Are you sure weren't bitten at all?" Sam asked, all business. Just like the gang had said.
"I think I would have noticed a werewolf trying to take a chunk out of me."
See, I wasn't lying. I was omitting. There is a difference. No wonder God makes my life a nightmare. Hey, it earned another chuckle from Dean. At least I could be a comedian in hell.
“Glad I could be so amusing,” I said as the coffee machine announced its finite with an annoying bring.
I rose from my seat on the couch and retreated back into the kitchen. “Sugar or cream?” I hollered for the umpteenth time this afternoon.
“Black, please,”
Of course, manly man.
I plunked down two mugs, my favorites too. So, if he broke it, so help me! Plain black went into my “Surgeon Generals Warning: Talking To Me Before I’ve Had My First Cup Of Coffee Can Be Hazardous To Your Help.” Two creams and three sugars went into my “Oh Its You, In That Case, Make It an IRISH Coffee,” mug, complete with a little green shamrock.
I returned to the guys without taking another dose. Apparently it had finally kicked in; I was numb and content with that.
Dean took his coffee, getting a grin from its cup before taking a sip with a sigh.
“I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve actually had real coffee.”
I laughed, raising mine up in salute before resuming my seat and added “Cheers,”
“So, we’ve got a plan,” Dean began.
Sam glanced at his brother, “We do?”
“Yeah. This thing has a connection with you,” he continued, pointing to me, “So, I figure its come back into town to lure you here for some unfinished business. We’ll stay here tonight, and kill the thing when he makes a move.”
I nodded with a false smile. “Great,”
…s**t.
(if you want to see chaper two, COMMENT! comments make me post faster smile )
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 7:36 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 1:46 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 1:51 pm
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Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural, nor any elements or characters from the show. If I did, I would just make this fanfic into an episode, profit, and ogle Jensen during the shoot wink . But alas, I only own Jesse Warner.
(songs used back in Chapter 1 were I Feel You by 3 Doors Down and World Falls Away by Seether)
Blue Moon
Chapter 2: Lock, Stock, and French
I hide behind the shell
In time the pain will melt
Locks. I needed to check the locks. Kitchen draw, nightstand, and the safe room. Now. The sensible part of my brain kept telling me to relax. They were still locked as always, just as the key was in my left back pocket. I am NOT paranoid. I’m simply cautious. Turning furry once a month for the past year will do that to ya.
“Well, apparently you two have some packing to do, so, I’m gonna shower and leave you guys to it,” I began, a very COLD one, “Your welcome to anything in the fridge, pantry, whatever. Mi casa es su casa. Just follow my one house rule: If its locked, don’t ******** with it.”
“Well,” Dean began, with his trademark ‘I will melt you where you stand into a puddle of goo’ drop dead sexy smile, “Sam can take my car and bring our stuff over. I’ll stay here and keep an eye out, just in case furball rears his ugly head.”
Damnit.
“Ok, well, make yourself at home then,” I replied, smiling brightly before disappearing up stairs to my room, quickly locking the door behind me. I snatched the key on my nightstand, and threw its chain around my neck. I felt calmer, safer.
After grabbing a suitable outfit for today, I padded into the master bathroom, stripping off my clothes and stepping under the icy spray. The music switched itself on to my AC/DC CD as Problem Child surrounded me with the water.
“Thank you Danny,” I spoke with a smile. I watched as the words “Any time” appeared in the fogged glass of the shower stall.
I swayed my hips to the beat and rinsed the shampoo from my hair, singing along with the song. Danny’s laughter echoed off the tiles before he left me in peace.
Your defenses were on high
Your walls built deep inside
Sam didn’t take to the plan so well. But it all worked out in the end. We solved it the old-fashioned way. And this time, rock kicked his a**.
I was in her fridge, going through the assorted bottles of liquor, when I heard the sounds of a familiar rock song accompanied by running water.
A gorgeous woman with no inhibitions who loves drinking and rock n roll. I stared up at the off-white ceiling with a grin before adding, “Thank you God.”
Grabbing a Sam Adams from the fridge, I headed upstairs to…get a look around. I couldn’t help but laugh as I heard her voice carried from the acoustics of the shower. She was actually pretty good too.
“Every night
Street light
Drinkin' booze
Some run
Some fight
I win they lose...
cause I'm a problem child”
With another gulp of beer and I wandered into her bedroom, or the room of her secret lesbian roommate. Nah, that was just a fantasy. The shackles laid out on the bed however, were not. Not sissy little handcuffs, I’m talkin’ full blown shackles. Lined with velvet, set out as if Jesse wanted these to be found.
Hey, nothin’ wrong with a little kink every now and again. Or, you know, all the time.
It looked well made too, some sort of steel alloy. The key, however, was nowhere to be found…unless she took it with her.
Wish I could fake it
I was just beginning to dry off, when I could smell that familiar kryptonic scent that was Dean Winchester, snooping outside my bedroom.
Oh well, let him snoop. All the important stuff was hidden anyway. And no, my underwear draw does not count as important.
I almost jumped when I heard him knocking on the door. What could he possibly want, aside from the obvious sexual urges? Only one way to find out.
I wrapped my towel securely around myself, made sure everything was covered, and opened the door. The sight before me could not have shocked me more.
Dean was leaning casually against the doorframe, wearing that devious smirk again, dangling my shackles from one hand just within my reach.
First off, don’t get any ideas. Though I don’t mind a little kink now in then, those things are silver-steel alloy, used to lock myself up around the full moon when I’m traveling. The velvet is for comfort’s sake if you must know. Good thing he didn’t find the leg shackles; the only thing that could have made this possibly worse.
Now for the obvious question. How the ******** did he find them? I had them buried for crying out loud in the bottom of my closet.
“Hi Dean. Where did you find my toy, and why do you have it?” I asked, managing to grin back the entire time.
Smiling is the best way to mask yourself, it confuses people. Depressed? Smile. Confused? Smile. Scared shitless? Smile. Happiness may not be the best medicine, but smiling in the face of your enemies is a damn good drug.
He laughed, happy as a drunken clam. “You uh…left them on the bed.”
“Did I now?” I asked, sliding past him to check the scene of the crime. The closet door was open, but nothing had been moved. At all. Only one culprit could be behind. I took a deep breath. Stay calm Jesse, its what he does, he’s your best friend, he’s…
“DANIEL HAYDEN YOU GET YOUR a** IN THIS ROOM RIGHT NOW MISTER AND EXPLAIN!!”
Needless to say Dean looked at me as if I were insane. I grabbed a jar of graveyard dirt from the top of my dresser, and threw a pinch into the air.
“What?” the spirit asked.
“Was there a reason to throw my nice shackles on the bed?”
“Yes. It made me laugh,” he replied, voice completely serious.
Daniel Hayden was my childhood friend, confidant, and 200-year-old spirit who resided in the Warner House since his death at the age of 24.
“Well, glad we could be of amusement,” added Dean with another grin.
“Danny..its just….I,” I threw my hands into the air in frustration before turning to Dean. “Do you know French?”
Again, he looked at me oddly. “No, why?”
“Good,” I replied in relief before facing the empty space that my dead friend occupied.
“Are tu aberant?! Dean puovoir être trouver dehors mon porte! Elle est ton poste sur protéger moi, ne pas avoir moi tuer selon chasse!”
I didn’t have to see Dean’s face to know of his bewilderment. It was only worse after Daniel replied.
“Se détendre mon copain. Ton porte est sûr avec moi. Je promesse.”
Relax? Yeah, easy for him to say! He’s already dead. Still, I wanted this fight to be over with. We could get it out later if we had to. Somewhere private where we were free to speak English.
I sighed before responding, “"Tu avoir mieux. Parce que si mon porte arriver dehors, Tu suis mort. Un manière ou bien un autre, elles aller courir après moi duvet et tuer moi."
I could feel his presence surrounding me, holding me like I was a fallen sibling who had scraped her knee. I wish it were that simple.
“Je aller jamais laisser elles to porte si je découvrir,” he began to whisper in my ear “Je aller faire tout en mon puissance vers garder ton porte .”
I nodded, “Merci,” and he was gone once again, leaving me alone with Dean.
“Hey guys I heard yelling…is this a bad time?”
Great. Thanks Sam. Perfect ******** timing right there. Now I have to do one of really annoyingly long explanations about why I was wearing only a towel and yelling French while Dean was holding a pair of shackles. Without explaining too much. Seriously God, what is the deal today?
“Ok, that was the Warner House ghost, Daniel Hayden. He’s been living in this house for generations since he died trying to protect Rose Warner over 2 centuries ago. He’s not dangerous, he does not need to be salt-n-burned; he’s just a bit of a prankster.”
“So I see,” Sam replied, looking away sheepishly. He was taller then Dean for Christ’s sake, built like a Titan, and yet he was shy as a newborn pup. It was almost cute, almost. Shy boys were not my type. At all.
Yeah I'm a selfish b*****d
But at least I'm not alone
“Ok Sam,” I began, dropping Jesse’s toy on the bed and walking towards the door, “Lets give the woman her privacy.”
Sam’s expression said ‘You, privacy?’. Haha Sam, very funny.
“Of course. We’ll just be unpacking.”
Jesse nodded, clutching the towel even tighter. It was kinda cute how modest she could be after flouncing around in jeans and a bra. Selective modesty.
“Uh huh,” she replied, “You go do that.”
Sam followed me out in the hall, closing the door softly behind him.
“Since when do you give any woman privacy?” he asked, grabbing a bag.
“Since I need to talk to my omnipotent brother. Do you speak French?”
(That’s all till Ch 3! Songs used in this installment were Hang On by Seether, Was It A Dream? by 30 Seconds To Mars, an of course Problem Child by AC/DC. LEAVE ME COMMENTS!!!…please?)
[TRANSLATIONS]
[J-"Are tu aberant?! Dean puovoir être trouver dehors mon porte! Elle est ton poste sur protéger moi, ne pas avoir moi tuer selon chasse!"
(Eng-Are you insane?! Dean could have found out my secret! Its your job to protect me, not get me killed by hunters!)
D- "Se détendre mon copain . Ton porte est sûr avec moi. Je promesse"
(Relax my friend. Your secret is safe with me. I promise)
J- "Tu avoir mieux. Parce que si mon porte arriver dehors, Tu suis mort. Un manière ou bien un autre, elles aller courir après moi duvet et tuer moi."
(You had better. Because if my secret gets out, I'm dead. One way or another, they will hunt me down and kill me.)
D- "Je aller jamais laisser elles to porte si je découvrir. Je aller faire tout en mon puissance vers garder ton porte ."
(I will never let them discover your secret if I can. I will do everything in my power to keep your secret as just that, a secret)
J- "Merci."
(Thank you)]
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 4:50 pm
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Posted: Fri Apr 13, 2007 8:50 am
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Disclaimer: woke up this morning, still don’t own Supernatural. Damn
(songs used in this chapter are 3 Doors Down-Behind Those Eyes, and Three Days Grace- Animal I Have Become)
Blue Moon
Chapter Three: Maybe She’s A Dominatrix
Behind those eyes you hide…
“Any word you can actually remember?” he asked me, sipping his own beer carefully on the couch next to me. What a lightweight.
“Yeah, actually. Porte, I swear they must have said it 10 times in the span of 5 minutes.”
My brother looked off into space, thinking it over for a moment. “Secret,” he finally replied.
My smirk turned into a full on grin. “Really now? Wonder what secrets she has…”
Sam gave me The Look. The ‘don’t even go there you pervert’ look. He should have learned by now that it never worked.
“Dean…” he said, making it some kind of warning.
“What? You gotta admit, your curious. Hell, maybe, she’s a dominatrix.”
“Your sick man,” he replied, nervously drinking his first beer again. I was on my third. It was beer, after so many nights of booze, beer might as well have been really carbonated seltzer.
“Dude, she keeps a pair of ******** shackles in her room. Purple velvet lined shackles. Explain that one to me sasquatch.”
“Maybe she’s a submissive,”
I raised an eyebrow at him. He surprised me, a first for ol’ reliable Sammy
“Why Sammy, you dog you. You never told me you were into BDSM.”
His next expression reminded me of the time I called him the uber nerd for spending two hours playing World of Warcraft. Indignation, anger, and confusion..
“I’m not! I just know stuff, that’s all. Listen, we should do some research on the rest of the town, see if there’s a pattern or, or something! Never know what we can find in this place.”
Two hours ago I wouldn’t have believed that statement, but after meeting Danny, I was a bit more open-minded.
“I’ll go see if Mistress Jesse is done getting dressed, maybe she can tell us where the town records are kept.”
He glared at me.
“Don’t call her that dude, seriously.”
“Alright…slave.”
I can't escape this hell
So many times I've tried
But I'm still caged inside
I was already dressed, wearing a black tie back halter, cut-off shorts, and my own version of combat boots. The style reminds me of women’s hiking boots, except they’re completely black leather with a steel toe. I’m really fond of them.
My hair was even held back from my face in a massive black jaw clip to reveal a bit of charcoal eyeliner and clear mint lip gloss. And all under 15 minutes. Oh yea, I ******** rock.
I had just finished packing my bag when I was ready to tear my room apart. Ugg! I just had it yesterday…
“Danny, have you seen my..”
Before the sentence was even finished the object of my search was hovering above an open draw.
“Merci,” I replied, throwing the pewter celtic cross on its black cord around my neck. It stood for balance, and helped to keep me calm.
There was that scent again. I let out a sigh as I heard the knocking.
“Come in,”
Dean as always.
“I’ve got a proposition for you,”
Oh, God help me. Please? Come on, don’t make me beg.
“Sammy and I were wondering if you’d like to come with us do some research. Problem is; we need you to get us to the town records.
I laughed, and silently thanked the Lord All Mighty.
“Alright, but I’m driving.”
“No you’re not,” he said, his expression completely dead pan serious in less then a heartbeat.
Again, I laughed.
“Calm down, I’ve got my own set of wheels, and they kick your Impala’s a**.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, intrigued. “Prove it.”
Haha, bring it on Titan.
There’s something I cant see
There's something different in the way you smile…
I followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Sam, you comin or not? Cause, I’ll gladly leave you here.”
He rolled his eyes before finally following us into the garage. What I saw there practically stole my damn breath away.
Pitch blake, shining with the perfect reflection of a recent waxing, was a 1965 Thunderbird convertible.
“Nice ride,” was Sammy’s only response. I glared at him, willing him not to mess this up for me. Just this once.
“How’s she handle?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at the young hunter, who was completely amused by my awe. Hey, as long as she does that sexy grin, she can be as damned amused, as she wants
“Like a dream about wet sticky things,” she answered, completely oblivious to her own innuendo. That or she was a damn good actor, I wasn’t sure.
I hopped in shotgun as she leapt into the drivers seat, not bother with the door. Sam, however, did. Damn gentleman.
The garage doors opened on command as she revved it up, damn ghost. The purr of the car took away the slight annoyance. Her music of choice, Buckcherry’s newest album, kinda helped there too.
Ok, let me just check my list here for one second. A gorgeous wild woman who loves rock music, drinking, and has a respect for old cars. It was official. Jesse was perfect.
Now all I had to do was kill this furball, maybe find out this little ‘porte’ she’s hiding, and she’s all mine.
I was not being presumptuous(just because I can’t spell it doesn’t mean I can’t think it), no woman can resist me. I’m not cocky, it’s a fact. Seriously.
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself
I threw the car in gear and parked it carefully in the lot, still humming Out of Line and swaying my hips to the beat as I walked inside the nice air-conditioned building.
Shades hid my eyes, just in case. One night till the first night of full moon, you can never be too careful. My bag was proof of that.
It was a little black mini-backpack, sitting just above my butt. Inside it safely concealed 3 syringes full of my day meds, one of night meds, my Browning High-Power loaded with silver bullets, wallet, and extra clips. Fully equipped to treat and kill werewolves. Why did that seem wrong?
I shrugged the thought off before it leeched onto my brain and headed up the old rought iron spiral staircase to the records room upstairs, after flashing the desk guy my research card. I could smell the guys following me, mere footsteps behind.
I grabbed a computer, intent on confirming an order, and let the guys do their thing.
Hey, don’t give me that look. I worked too. I looking over the murder locations that matched Eric’s M.O., listing them to later put on a map. Multi-tasking; it’s a talent of mine. The other talents I am not discussing. Ever.
As you turned to walk away
I saw another look in your eye
I browsed the shelves while Sam tinkered away on his precious laptop, and Jesse busied herself on her own terminal. There was nothing I could see that was useful, except a map of the area. I left it next to Sammy and went to see what Jesse was up to.
What? Sasquatch is research boy. I don’t do research, I kill things.
Apparently so did Jesse, who immediately minimized the page she was on, titled lunarhaven.com as I looked over her shoulder.
“Find anything?”
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal
It was about 3:00 in the afternoon by the time we returned to my house. We didn’t even really find anything useful. All of Eric’s killings had taken place in the park, which made sense. Easy way to kill without getting caught, and always have some form of prey.
So, it wasn’t completely pointless. Or maybe that’s what I was telling myself to not feel so useless. Yeah, that could be it.
No, I don’t consider myself useless. Maybe confound is the more proper. Afterall, turning furry once, in this case twice, a month has its fringe benefits. Supernatural speed and strength, kick a** healing, and immunity to pretty much every disease you can think of.
Problem was I couldn’t use any of those without arousing suspicion from my two house guests, and thus getting killed. Life tends to be cruel that way.
Well, I did get something accomplished, just nothing to do the case. Marianne had her medicine on the way, and she was pretty well in control for now.
I should probably explain that. I run a site called lunarhaven.com. It’s a place for others like me to help eachother.
Now before you completely tweak out on me, know this. The offer only stands for those who have not yet taken a life, the newly turned. After a lycan gets its first taste of blood and death, there’s no turning back. You become a monster. You become an Eric.
Anyway, I offer medication and a “safe room” as I call it free of charge, sort of an expenses paid treatment to control lycanthropy.
It is not a cure. There is none. Trust me, I know. I’ve spent the better part of a year searching for it. I turned 22, and accepted it. Doesn’t mean I like it, but I’ve learned to deal…most of the time.
Add all of that up plus my feeling of confinement, I needed to get out. With about 3 hours till sundown, I had plenty of time to go out for a run. I jogged up to my room with plans on doing just that.
Behind those eyes you lie
Sam was in the shower, Jesse was out running, and I was on Sam’s laptop. I tried to go with her…
“You want to go jogging?”
“…Yeah!”
“In jeans and biker boots?”
That was the whole conversation. She did have a point. And I was not going to wear shorts, not even for her.
Besides it gave me the opportunity to find out what Jesse was REALLY doing earlier.
“Dean, what the hell are you doing?”
Damn.
“Reseaching,” I answered, as if I always did research on Sam’s laptop.
“Dean, looking at porn is not research.”
I typed in the site url, completely focused, before the words registered.
“…hey!”
Ok, he had a good point. But hell if I’m letting Sam win. He looked over my shoulder, damn shaggy hair dripping water on my back.
“What are you doing?”
“Researching genius, now mind the shirt.”
He did his usual eye roll-huff ‘your such an a**’thing.
“Let me see, God knows I know more about computers then you do.”
Again, he had a point. And if let me find out what Jesse was hiding…
“What exactly are you researching on an rpg site?” he asked, grinning in amusement in disbelief.
“Jesse and a what site?”
“Rpg, roleplay game. This sites a lycan rpg site, that’s smart talk for werewolf role playing game.”
“Haha dude, very ******** funny.” Damn sasquatch, but then I had a thought.
“Can you figure out which sn is hers?”
“I dunno dude, maybe. This place has a ton of security protocols,” he added, turning around to look back at me. “We could just ASK her Dean.”
“And admit I was spying on her? Hell no! I’m not dealing with a pissed of dominatrix dude!”
“Don’t call her that dude.”
“Alright slave boy, don’t get your bondage in a bunch.”
“Dude, don’t ******** call me that.”
“Or else what, SLAVE BOY?” I mocked,
“Or I won’t help you investigate Jesse,”
“…you b***h.”
(...COMMENT!!! The more comments, the faster I post Ch4)
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Posted: Fri Apr 13, 2007 7:10 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 16, 2007 6:35 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 16, 2007 8:09 pm
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Disclaimer: You all know how this dance goes. I don’t own Supernatural, or the songs used in this fanfic. All belongs to lucky millionaires, I only own Jesse and Daniel(and yes, I love them!) Songs used in this chapter are Seether- Hang On, Papa Roach- Take Me, and 30 Seconds To Mars- A Beautiful Lie.
Blue Moon
Chapter 4: Just A Dash Of Jealousy
I'm burning in the heavens
By the time I had gotten home the sun was a fiery orb in the sky, the clouds around it looked like a fresh bleeding wound. Hell, it still looked pretty. Everything reminds you of gore when you’re me, and it’s the night before three nights of full moon.
I walked inside caked in sweat, the iPod shuffle clipped to my shorts blasting Bring ‘Em Back Alive by Audioslave from forlorn ear buds dangling around my neck. I kicked off my sneakers and dragged my soggy corpse into the kitchen, intent on a bottle of water and another shot.
The latter action, however, was impeded by the sight in the kitchen. Sam and Dean were at the kitchen table, a pile of at least 8 burgers and 5 cartons of fries between them. A feast to clog thy arteries. The growl of my stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten a thing all day.
“Welcome back,” said Dean, taking in my sight with a grin. He was admiring my jogging shorts, French cut style with blue nylon and white piping. Note to self: Get baggier shorts.
“Have a nice jog?” Sam asked, picking up another burger.
I nodded. “Yeah. Helps me clear my head,” and ignored the food to go to my fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water and squirted a generous amount onto my face. Waterproof eyeliner is a blessing, as was the black halter. See, there’s a reason to despise white.
Unfortunately the action gained Dean’s attention. s**t. I hadn’t thought of that.
Don’t blame me! Have you ever been on a 5 mile run without food and drank ice-cold water? You will vomit. I know, there’s no food, how can you vomit? Hell if I know, human anatomy was never my cup of tea. Your digestive system finds a way; like fate, but in the worse possible way.
I looked over the food in my fridge dismissively as my stomach protested yet again. Silence fiend! I’ll find something to shut you up.
Problem was it didn’t want something. It wanted meat. Damn men and their burgers. I was not going to interrupt their meal. For once I was going to be polite. Maybe turn a new leaf.
“Your free to join us,” Sam said out of nowhere, during my raid of the kitchen cabinets.
“Yeah, grab a burger and a seat,” added Dean, pulling a chair out beside him. Hey, who was I to object to free food?
I gave my life away
There’s nothing left to say
Sam’s hacking turned up nothing. He said he needed more time, and his laptop needed to be charged. So, I sat next to the gorgeous redhead trying to not watch her and decipher her body language at the same time. Something I was particulary good at. You don’t have to be College Boy to be a genius.
At the surface, she looked normal, well except for the part where she was polishing off her second burger. How did such a little woman have such a huge appetite? It seemed phsycially impossible.
Matebolisms aside, she looked regular. No nervous movements I could pick out, except her eyes. If you looked really closely, you could see them flicking to one drawer across the room. A quick glance while she wasn’t looking revealed a small keyhole on its front. Can you say porte?
There was still something else. As if with all her loose and relaxed movements she was still stiff and confined. I shook it off as a lack of sleep and returned to the task of feasting.
Somewhere during this Jesse excused herself to shower, something about sweat becoming an uncomfortable coating of skin. I was watching her move, but not really listening. Can you blame me? I mean, c’mon, look at the shorts!
I didn’t break my progression of eating until I heard the water turn on again, looking to my brother with a devious grin. He gave me ‘your crossing the line’ face. I ignored it.
“Hey Sammy, got a paperclip?”
And I'm drowning in a hell
It was late. How late exactly, I didn’t know, nor care.
I’d spent the whole night watching a CSI marathon with the guys, waiting to almost get killed. It never came, Eric I mean. Shouldn’t call it and It. It would make me an It. I’m not an it. I’m a Jesse. Keep telling myself that enough maybe it’ll come true. Mmhm, and kittens bark.
Dean elected to stay up, telling Sam they’d watch the place in 4 hour shifts. It was all I really caught before dragging myself into bed. Too much Haloperidol, I didn’t think there was such a thing.
I stripped out of my clothes, threw on a night shirt, and was dead to the world by the time my head collided with the pillows.
My soul is in a coma
And none of my friends can tell
You could hear them screaming. Calling out your name. Not to help, but to run. To get out. You didn’t. You ran back through the kitchen to living room, determined to save them. But determination counts for nothing when you’re facing the supernatural with only willpower and your own strength.
It was too late for them. The stench telling you so even before your eyes caught sight of what little remained. They didn’t want to believe it was human, that it was anything but meat. You ran, as fast you ever had, for the back door.
But it wasn’t enough. It never was. It was pinning you down to the dew covered grass, jaws latched onto your right thigh. Its ice blue eyes looked at you, but it wasn’t so. The eyes were yours. The victim was your prey, and all you wanted was to devour it in carnal joy. To drink every last drop of the crimson juice, rip into the sweet muscular meat, and wallow in what little was left.
I shot awake from my sheets once again, this time worse then before. Nothing registered, except my heartbeat and the labor of my lungs daring to work. Muscles rippled under my skin like something alive, making the pale mass look like water. It was stretching at the surface, threatening to break and spill at any moment.
I wouldn’t do it. I would not. Telling myself that however, was about as helpful as spitting at the man who made me.
I flew to the nightstand, but I couldn’t find the damned key! Supernatural night vision still couldn’t even spot it. Damn it all.
My frustration got the best of me, and the draw was ripped from its place and onto the floor, scattering syringes and vials everywhere.
I scrambled on the hardwood, desperately until I filled a syringe with 20 mils of Haloperidol and 40 mils of silver nitrate. Twice the normal dose. It would help. It would save me. Or it would kill me. But my options were limited, die from meds, die from a silver bullet special courtesy of the Winchester brothers, or die later.
I’m a werewolf, not immortal. Death would come, the only question was when.
Apparently, unless something changed drastically, not tonight. My skin stopped dancing, my heart rate slowed back to some semblance of normalcy, and my lungs were no longer working their metaphorical asses off. Yippee.
Still, sleep would not come again tonight. I knew it already. Dreaming you killed the ones you loved will do that to you. I knew I hadn’t. I knew it was Eric. But logic really does nothing for emotions. They will still kick your a** like salt to a spirit.
But hey, I wasn’t alone. Danny was up. It was time to once again continue our old tradition. Amazing how some things just never change.
Lie awake in bed at night
And think about your life
Do you want to be different...
It's time to forget about the past
To wash away what happened last
“Dean!” I yelled after him as he ran past me to the basement. The door was locked, heavy on the was. The key had seen to that. He should not be going down there. I knew it. Because he wouldn’t like what he found
Still he went.
I could only watch as he flung open the door to reveal what looked like a small lab. Silver melting station for bullets, glass vials, massive bottles of chemicals. But that wasn’t the worse. I was ignoring the worse. Ignore it and it wasn’t there. That’s what Dean always taught me.
Not this time.
There in the back corner was a cage. And inside that cage was Jesse Warner, her eyes glowing ice blue, filled with fear. They sparkled, threatening to spill forth those salty tears. They looked down the barrel of Dean’s gun.
Soft and innocent as an angel she whispered, those four final words.
“Please don’t kill me…”
Deans finger wrapped around the trigger, his eyes full of malice.
Then I woke up, wrapped in cotton linens, trying to get my bearings.
Jesse wasn’t evil. She just wasn’t. I would have sensed it. So her eyes changed colors, a lot of peoples do when under stress or fear. Deans go emerald when he’s pissed off, kind of a warning flare to shut one’s cake hole. But then, what is she hiding? We never could get that draw open...
It was just a dream. Of course, I knew it was a lie. Lying to myself, hey, better then lying to everyone else. Despite popular opinion, I think I got the better half of the Winchester genes.
2am. It was about an hour till I had to take up Dean’s shift. I could stay up till 3 and feign sleep, or not. I rose from my bed and resigned myself to watch patrol.
When I got downstairs to see Dean, asleep on the couch, I realized I wasn’t alone. I could hear two voices, coming from another room in the house. It was close, down the hall on the left.
I followed it to come across a comforting sight. It was Jesse, playing chess. I tried to ignore the fact that she was only wearing a Metallica shirt that barely hit her at midthigh sitting down.
At first glance it looked as if she was alone. Then a knight opposite her moved and took out a rook, much to her frustration. It was so…innocent. Again my brain tried to answer that inexplicable question. How could Jesse Warner be evil?
That I'm reaching out and getting nothing
This is just a story of a broken soul
“Hey! You cheated!”
“Did not,” he replied with a grin, looking over the board again patiently.
“Did too!” I replied, throwing a bit of graveyard dust on him so I could see him. I wanted to see his incredulous expression.
“Did. Not,” he countered with a grin.
“Did. TOO!”
He stuck his tongue out me, and I giggled. I ******** giggled. A 200-year-old dead guy just stuck his tongue out at me. How very mature of him. Then again, I, Jesse of the Gigglefit, was not in any position to cast stones.
“Prove it,”
Oh that rat b*****d.
“And I’m not a rat”
“Well, there! You just proved it yourself!” I answered triumphantly, moving my bishop into positon. “Check mate”
He paused, looking over the board thoughtfully. “You sly minx.”
“Umm, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Sam replied, standing outside the great archway leading into the study, “But do you mind if I join you?”
Jeeze, I hadn’t even known he was standing there. Note To Self: Do not double dosage unless sure thy will not be spied upon.
“Not at all. Good game Danny.”
He nodded and left the room, off to haunt some other section of the house. I eyed Sam warily as he took the now empty seat across from me.
“What are you doing up?” he asked.
“I could ask you the same question.”
“Couldn’t sleep. You?”
“Bad dream. Really, really bad dream,” I replied, putting my pieces back in their places as Sam did the same.
“You get those a lot?”
I shrugged. “Sort of. Just, don’t get this particular one so often,” I said as I moved a pawn foreward.
“I think I know the feeling.”
20 minutes later the number of pieces were slim. It was a great game so far. Sam was a terrific player, and not so much that I couldn’t counter some of his moves.
“Can I ask you something?” he said out of the blue, looking at me with those big hazel puppy dog eyes.
“Shoot.”
“How did you get away from a werewolf?”
Hey, it was a damn good question.
“Well, for starters it happened right here, in this house. My parents died in a car crash when I was 4, and my mums parents took me in. That night I heard them scream, tried to save them, but it was too late. I ran out the front door, but I wasn’t quick enough. The thing, Eric, had me pinned, and then he was thrown off me. It was Danny. That night he saved my life.”
“Now I see why you keep him around,” he replied, moving his queen to the right.
“Damn straight,” I nodded, taking out his queen with my rook. “Ok, I answered your question, so you answer mine. How does a sasquatch get puppy dog eyes?”
“Well, you see,” he began, hand moving to remove the fallen queen the same time mine did. We touched digits and I no longer needed an answer, I just saw it. Fire, death, demon, parents, girlfriend. Poor b*****d.
“Never mind,” I answered breathlessly.
“How did you do that?”
I honestly had no ******** clue, which I relayed to him.
“Danny?” I asked into the darkness of the flickering candlelight. Danny and I always played chess by candlelight. It’s tradition.
‘Sorry’ he replied in my mind ‘I thought it might be better for you to see. Be careful, he is powerful and intelligent in a way that could prove dangerous to you. I kept them from opening the draw, but they are curious. Guard you secret well mon ami,’ he whispered and was gone with a flicker of the candles flames in his breeze.
“It was Danny. He thought it might be easier if you didn’t have to explain. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, intrude on your mind or anything. And I’m even more sorry about…well..everything.”
He grinned it off, saying it was nothing. It reminded me of, well, me. Except different. His smile was all calm and innocence. Mine hadn’t been innocent for almost a year, if not earlier. Never was much for the proper young lady scene.
I moved my pawn foreward with a smirk before saying those two glorious words. “Check mate.”
“You…you killed me with a pawn?”
“Hell yea, me and the President,” I grinned, trying to keep a straight face. He laughed, and my own spilled out as well to join his. It was so..easy. Like Danny, just another brother from another mother.
“Having fun?” a cold voice asked from the darkness of the archway. It was meant to be light and calm, but I could feel the stab of cruelty, of jealousy. Was it because I was befriending his brother? Or was it because his brother was befriending me.
I didn’t want to know. I did NOT want to KNOW.
It was my mental mantra, rinse and repeat it. Maybe it’ll come true. But then again, we have reality.
I can’t control the need
To weak to not concede
I woke up, dreaming of a certain female hunter in the back of my Impala while blasting Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me. To say I was pissed off to not still be in said dream would be an understatement. A very, very, big one.
Then I heard the cause of my awakening. Laughter. Jesse’s by the sound of it. And someone else’s...
Sam. You thieving b*****d.
(que the suspenseful music What will Jealous!Dean do to Sammy? Can Danny keep them out of that drawer forever? How will Jesse hide her secret when the moon is slowly rising? R&R to find out!)
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Posted: Mon Apr 16, 2007 8:15 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 18, 2007 7:06 am
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Posted: Sun Apr 29, 2007 2:24 pm
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Posted: Fri May 04, 2007 7:54 pm
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Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, at all. Only in my dreams where I’m chased by plastic flamingos and saved by a certain shiny black Impala. Songs used in this chapter are Orgy- Stitches, and Seether- Love Her,
Blue Moon
Chapter 5: Skin Deep
I never found out how she survived all of the sadness she kept inside
“Having fun?” I asked them, the words holding the promise of pain and cruelty.
Hey, it was 3am, I had a neck crick from that damn couch, and Sam was flirting with my girl(yes, she was mine, I called dibs).
Jesse smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Those grey orbs held worry, which made me feel a heluva lot better.
“Yeah, we were, actually,” she answered as if everything was ok.
“What’s the problem Dean?”
“Nothing. Why would there be a problem Sammy?”
As beautiful as fire against the evening sky
Of course not, none of us can see your obvious possessiveness.
You could actually see it not only on his face, but in his eyes. They were so green I could have sworn they glowed with it, like pure dazzling emeralds of dominating hate. Beautiful and terrifying.
Hey, be happy I was keeping my eyes on his…well..eyes. The evil b*****d was shirtless. Naked from the waist up. The tanned skin—and no one should be that well sculpted! It’s a sin damnit, like Jesus and his god damn nazism.
Sam simply rolled his eyes at his older sibling as he rose from his seat across the table. That’s it. Just keep looking at Sam, innocent brotherly Sam. Brilliant plan my brain.
“Whatever Dean. I’m going to bed before you do something stupid,” he began before turning to me with a soft smile. “Thanks for the good game.”
I nodded. “You too. Maybe we could do it again sometime.”
He bid me one final goodnight and disappeared to his room, leaving me alone with Dean and his half nudity…and his glare. It was so uncomfortable it was…excruciating. Like if I stood still long enough he could see through me like crystalline glass, picking apart every flaw and smudge.
I got up and went into the kitchen, not even bothering to say a word to him. I could feel his anger, boiling up under my skin. It was not aiding too much in my battle to not turn furry early.
Goosebumps rose on my legs, making my bare thighs tremble ever so slightly. Someone left the window open. Probably Dean. Under normal circumstances, I couldn’t blame him.
It was the middle of July and my house has no AC. But we weren’t under normal circumstances now, we’re we?
I threw it shut, locking it in place, before heading to my fridge. My foot shut the door as I found my prize, a bottle of liquor known as Fireball. My own personal favorite.
Dean was standing over me when I turned around. I wanted to be mad at him, but at the same time I wanted to avoid the conflict altogether. It was late, and I was in no mood to fight. What I wanted to do was put more distance between us. Us being me and his washboard abs.
“Mind if I join you for a drink?” he asked, eyebrow quirked as he caught sight of the bottle.
No. No no NO!
“Fine, there’s beer in the fridge.”
“I meant the Fireball,” he added with the smile that must have melted a thousand other truck stop whores before me. Still didn’t lessen its effect. Damnit.
“Hell no, get your own booze.”
He laughed, the sound warm and touchable. “Fine.”
Then he grabbed my bottle. MY bottle. Holding it over my head endlessly far out of my reach.
“Give that back.”
Again, the smile. “No.”
I grinned my own back.
“Is everyone in your family obscenely tall, or is it just you?”
“Is everyone in your family obscenely short, or is it just the beautiful women?”
Actually, it is everyone. The tallest was my grandfather at barely 6 ft. But damned if I was telling him that.
I jumped up, grabbing his arm that held my precious whiskey hostage.
“Please?”
Laughter again as he unscrewed the black metal cap with its usual flaming logo. “Please what?”
“Please give me back my bottle of Fireball.”
He tossed the cap aside on the table, taking a sip without even a tick of distaste. Damn sexy b*****d.
“If you want it, come and get it,” he answered, smirking suggestively.
Fine, have it your way Titan.
I never found out how she could lie with a smile on her face
and the scratches she'd hide
Damn, she had an excellent taste in whiskey. And she looked really cute standing there trying to plot her next move against me. Battling over booze is way better then chess.
Next thing I knew I was being shoved against the counter by said adorable redhead, still trying to reach her precious bottle.
“Bit beyond your reach?”
And then she jumped me. Figuring if she tackled my frame she could reach the bottle.
She was wrong.
I turned the tables on the young woman’s plan, pinning her against the counter with my usual devious grin.
“Admit I win, and I’ll give it to you.”
She laughed, sexy and daring.
“You wish.”
Her silver eyes were set with a glare for a moment, and then something flickered there. A spark of…something. Hell if I knew what. But it was there.
We were so close. That impossible closeness where you’re not sure how you’re still not touching; yet there it is.
“Fine,” I caved, “I’ll give you a taste.”
Finally, I did what I had been wishing to do for the past 24 hours. I kissed her.
Take me by the hand and see beyond the lies
Dean was kissing me.
Dean was kissing me!
I was frozen in shock for a few moments. Electric heat as hot as molten lava spread throughout my body, and it took all I had to even get a coherent thought. I’d never responded to anyone like this before, which terrified me more then any evil entity I’d faced in my entire life.
Do I kiss him now and ******** him, or do I kiss and run, or do I just flee now before it gets worse…
I kissed him back, and he responded eagerly to me, allowing me access to taste the sharp yet smooth taste of my liquor on his tongue. I could feel my beast rise in content, finally getting one of its hungers fed. She swirled in my eyes, and I knew they were no longer grey.
As much as I knew I had to get the hell out of this kitchen. Now. Amazing sex with Dean was not worth me getting killed over. As far as I knew. Can’t really judge unless I’ve actually done the wicked dance with him now, can I? I did NOT want to find out.
‘Don’t stop’ one half of my brain, and my beast, were screaming at me. ‘Just give in, just this once. It will be amazing, it will be perfect, just let go’
A sigh escaped my lips as his own moved down to my shoulder blade, nipping the skin there. Little did he know it was the exact spot where Eric had cursed me one year ago; the long gone scar tissue leaving behind only sensitivity.
‘Let it go’ my mind begged me.
And I did.
Strip away the fences - leave me needing, leave me high
I woke up next to a warm mass, cradling me to it beneath the sheets. It took me a few moments to realize it was Dean. Oh god oh god OH GOD!
I had sex with Dean.
I HAD SEX WITH DEAN!!!
It refused to register in my brain. Like mentally I refused to accept it. The half full still open bottle of Fireball on the nightstand hit home. Dean had decided somewhere between the first time and the…(I had no idea, 5th at least? I did NOT want to think about it), that is tasted better on me.
Ok, just had to think. I wanted to get away from here, from him. Now. Fast, faster would be better….bad image BAD IMAGE! Worse, the image was a ********, BAD MEMORY!
Some words I would have to refrain from using today. For good reason.
Just concentrate. The fridge is looking pretty sparse, I can go shopping! Brilliant.
Ok, need clothes to go to the store. Nudity bad, very very bad. Shirt, a shirt was required. Where the hell was it?
Navigating my way very carefully out of the bed, I looked around. My Metallica nightshirt was nowhere to be found. Damn you God!
There was, however, Dean’s shirt. It hung down to my knees in a cascade of faded black cloth. Good enough for me. Still, need pants. Pants were down the hall.
I tiptoed down the corridor, willing God to please, just this once, be on my side and make the boys stay asleep. C’mon, it was barely 9 o’clock, in my perfect world everyone would sleep till noon, hence they should in my house.
Slipping inside my room, I quickly tugged on a pair of what used to be jeans, now ragged capri-like things with more holes then swiss cheese. But they were all in the knees and such, so it didn’t look whorish or anything. Bathing suit top went under Dean’s shirt.
Then I grabbed a syringe, aiming for the right balance of tranquilizer and silver nitrate. With enough meds, I wouldn’t shift on the first night. It’s only the 2nd night I have no control over. Injecting the meds, I threw the vials and empty syringes in a shoebox under the bed. The lock on the draw was ruined; I’d have to replace it. Till then, Danny had one more secret to hide.
I grabbed a bottle of body spray, and then hesitantly putting it back. The shirt still had that spicy-sweet smell of Dean, and damned if I was ruining it. My hair brushed and in a low ponytail, black flip-flops on my feet, shades on my face, and I was out the door in my precious T-bird, blasting Orgy as soon as I was out of range.
Hey, just because I like mullet-rock doesn’t mean I don’t like anything else. My ears worship everything from metal to jazz, and everything in between. Except rap and pop.
Satan created rap, pop, hangovers, and Dean’s body. Seriously, ask him. $10 says he confesses to all charges, especially the last.
My back pocket also hid one more surprise this morning. On my way out I found one last…shocker. My green satin undies on the post of my staircase.
I mean that ******** you is strange
And adored by me throughout
Oh no it's you again…
I'm so deranged you know
I will never be the same
I was just heading down the scenic route towards home when that familiar and ominous sound overrode the current of industrial music. Police sirens.
I quickly pulled an unintentionally flashy turn around and followed towards the park. s**t. The rumors were true.
It had always been a debated topic at Lunar Haven on whether or not one could control the beast well enough to change before the full moon. The med’s suppressed the wolf, but the idea was if you learned to embrace your beast it could be controlled even better. I said it was a possibility, and reminded everyone the penalty of death. Death.
With a smooth parallel park I hopped out of the car to see what was going on. It was bad. Real bad. I hadn’t even seen it yet, and I knew. It’s not bad when you only smell blood, but this…it was meat, raw, and grotesque from the morning July heat.
Death in the summer is always the worst, the humidity and the pure sultry weather makes everything smell a thousand times more disgusting.
I shoved my way through the crowd to the headline that was held back just a few feet from the customary yellow Caution tape. I was wrong. It was worse then bad.
If I couldn’t smell it, I wouldn’t have known what laid before my eyes was ever human. It looked like scraps of meat, completely unidentifiable. The biggest piece was the size of my head, and it wasn’t even a head. Or hell, maybe it was. I’m not even gonna think about it. Don’t think, you don’t comprehend, and you don’t vomit. Point for me.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it. Sure, maiming and death was extremely bad, but I could deal to the point where it didn’t faze me too much. But the sight on the memorial stonewall did. It struck a real emotional chord.
There, written in blood that was still candy apple red, fresh and disgusting, and yet appealing to my beast, were the words “Now its more than skin deep.”
July 14, 2006
“Its over Eric. We’re through.”
“But Jesse,” he pleaded, begging in his own sick way. Amazing how an abusive b*****d could beg and almost look appealing. Must have been how he lured me to him in the first place. “I love you. Please baby…”
Love?! We didn’t love. Not anymore. Maybe once, a long time ago. Before he tried to take over me, and my life. Before he cheated on me. Twice.
“You don’t love me. Love is a pairing of souls. This is only skin deep.”
I shook off the memory and dug my cell phone out of purse. Dean had forced me to put his and Sam’s numbers on my phone before I went on my run the day before.
His overbearing protectiveness had annoyed me then, but I was grateful now. Still, I was NOT calling Dean. I mean, what would I say?
“Gee, thanks for the mind-blowing sex, but my ex-boyfriend turned werewolf killed someone last night and I need you to come look at the crime scene. By the way, was it good for you too?”
Yeah. I’d call Sam.
Then hopefully get home before my fresh tub of Reese’s Pieces Explosion icecream melted. People were dying and I was worried about the well being of my frozen deserts.
What can I say; I’m practical to the bitter end: death.
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Posted: Thu May 17, 2007 6:28 pm
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Posted: Fri May 18, 2007 8:39 am
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Disclaimer: Same old tango ladies and gents. Don’t own Supernatural, or any other published material in this fic. I’m doomed to only own the plot, Jesse, Eric, Danny, and anyone else in here you don’t recognize from the show. All products of my own little mind. Songs used are Evanescence~ The Last Song I'm Wasting On You, and Buckcherry~ Open My Eyes
Blue Moon
Chapter 6: Sexy Dominating b*****d
Are you strong enough
Do you feel my touch
You are the comfort in my eyes
Moving through the lust
Feeling dangerous
I want to open the door to your life
“Dean, DEAN!”
Someone was yelling for me. And it did not sound like screaming fits of pleasure either. <********. What time was it?
“Dean, get your a** up man!”
It was Sam. I reached over to wake up Jesse, only to find a piece of paper.
“Out shopping. Be back soon.” –Jesse
“I’m up Sam!” I shouted back at the blurred figure standing in the doorway. What was it about everyone forcing me get up so early lately?
“Get dressed. Jesse just called. There’s another body down at the park.”
s**t.
Hey, hold on a sec. Why didn’t she call me? Hmm. Damn good question that. Only one way to find out.
Sparkling grey
Through my own veins
“Jesse Warner!”
I moved to put my hands up with a grin. How many times I had been in this position before, I had no idea. What I did know was that this time I was getting off without even a warning.
“Deputy Wilson.”
“Its Sherrif now Jess”
I turned around to see David Wilson, a friend of mine from high school. We sort of helped each other pass all of our classes. Wasn’t for him, I would have never passed Pre-Calc.
“A lot changes in a year.”
He nodded. “That it does. What are you doin here Jess?”
I sighed. I did not want to be having this conversation.
“Do I need to respond to questions you already know the answer to?”
He did too. I wasn’t being that evasive. Except the ‘I’m a werewolf too’ part, he knew that some things just couldn’t be explained. That’s where I came in.
“Good enough for me,” he conceded, lifting up the yellow tape for me to cross.
“What’s the official story?”
“Well,” he began, “they’re saying it looks like some rabid dog attack. Possibly a coyote.”
“David, we both know what it looks like, and what it is, ain’t exactly the same thing.”
He looked away, masking something. Worry.
“I know what that message meant Jess. You sure you’re safe all alone?”
I could go into a rant about sexism, but just saying the root word would bring back far too many memories I did not need on my mind right now. Or, you know, ever.
“I’m not alone. John’s boys are in town.”
He looked completely relieved. Don’t be so surprised; John was a hero in my town, sort of a real life Walker Texas Ranger to us.
“The Winchester boys, Sam and Dean?”
I nodded. “They’re staying at my place till this thing is…resolved.”
“Alright then. You can take a look around, just watch where you step. If anyone gives you a hard time, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks David.”
“Don’t thank me Jesse. You just be careful.”
“Aren’t I always?”
The steps we take on the way to free our minds
I parked my Impala behind the Thunderbird, donning my fake id and tried to find Jesse. If she wasn’t here, how the hell did she just get into the crime scene?
Damn these questions seemed to be piling up today, hell, even worse then the body count.
We presented our badges to one of the cops on the scene, when the Sheriff approached. Oh s**t.
“Its alright Deputy, these are John’s boys. They’re with me.”
“Yes sir,” the cop nodded obediently, not even giving us one suspicious look before guarding the scene like a diligent little puppet.
This day just kept gettin’ weirder.
“How’d you know who we were?” I asked as I followed Sam under the tape.
“Your father did a lot of great work for this town. I can’t understand what, don’t think I ever want to either. He was a good man, terribly sorry for your loss boys.”
“Thanks,” Sam replied with his usual innocent little grin.
“Where’s Jesse?”
“Just sniffin’ around.”
Any more than a whisper
David had no idea how right he was. My heightened sense of hearing allowed me to hear them despite the constant buzz of the crowd, cops, and usual media vultures.
Sniff I did, and I found his trail. Found being the operative word. It immediately ended at the edge of the woods. He could have masked it with something. And there were a lot of somethings that could overpower a scent trail.
“Hey Jesse,” I heard Deans voice call, “How come you didn’t tell us?”
My heart literally jumped into my throat, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I was dead. Well and truly going to die.
“Dean, I’m sorry…”
“You could have just told us,” he countered before I could finish.
“Yeah, it’s not like some terrible burden you know,” Sam added.
Oh no, being a werewolf is a stroll in the ******** park. The urge to go lap the blood of the grass 20 feet away is like an added cherry to complete the perfect ******** treat.
“How’d you meet him anyway?” Dean asked.
They already knew that…didn’t they? Ok, now I was confused.
“Wait, what?”
“Our father, when did you meet him?” Sam asked.
Oh thank God! I was more relieved then the day I found out I could control my beast.
“Yeah, why? What did you think we meant?” the elder of the two inquired, cocking an eyebrow at me suspiciously. Apparently my relief showed. s**t.
“Nothing. I met your dad when I was a kid, about 7 I think. He wanted to kill Danny. Thought he was the root cause of what was killing the kids in this town, and that I was the next victim.”
“What did it turn out to be, if not your friendly Casper?” Dean asked, falling into step with me as we walked the line of woods, looking for clues.
“A shtriga,” I replied, stretching my neck and shoulders to work out a kink. The movement made Sam’s eyes go wide a moment, then receded as if it were never there.
“What?” I asked him, a little snappish. I didn’t mean to be, honest. 9 o’clock with no coffee, I’m not responsible for my actions.
“Nothing,” he muttered, looking around for a trail.
“No, it wasn’t nothing. You had something face,” I said accusatively pointing at him. It looked pretty ridiculous.
“You’ve,” but his response was cut short by an elbow to the ribs, courtesy of his older sibling. “Its nothing, really. Forget I said anything”
Uh huh, surrre.
“Whatever” I said, putting my hands up in finality.
“The trail is completely gone. It just..ends.” Dean began, walking back towards the cars.
“No worries. We’ll come back here tonight, and take the b*****d out,” I answered, hopping into the drivers seat of my T-bird.
That’s when I noticed it. Where Eric had once bitten me, there was a brand new mark, courtesy of Dean. A purple and red blossoming hickey. ******** sexy dominating b*****d.
Before the boys could respond, I peeled out and sped my embarrassed a** home, speakers blasting Orgy’s Blue Monday.
Any sudden movement of my heart
Taking a little known shortcut, I beat the guys home by a long shot. It wasn’t a race, just me being evasive.
I quickly set the groceries down on the table before bolting upstairs, using every ounce of my lycanthropic speed and grace.
By the time I returned to the kitchen in a blur a movement, only a minute or two mind you, the groceries were already put away. Two thermoses were filled and waiting as sandwiches made themselves.
“Thank you Danny.”
“No problem my dearest,” (French)
The I felt it. That scent. Not Dean’s blend of spice, but something else. It raised the hackles of my beast and before I knew what was happening my gun was in my hand. Evil, grotesque, and familiar. Similar, yet completely opposite to myself.
“Eric,” I whispered, a promise of death.
Danny was there, raising a dark chocolate eyebrow at me.
“I did not sense anything last night my dearest” (italics=French)
“Well, your sensors are off then dead boy, because he was here.”
I followed the scent, tracing his steps. He came through the window, searched my spice cabinet, and then messed with my cd player. With hesitation, I turn it on. The first few bars made me smack the off button in disgust. It was That’s Not Enough by Maroon5. It was our song.
“Jesse, hey, wait up!” he called, laughing as he chased me through the house. I wound up in the kitchen, radio blaring an oh so familiar tune. Unfortunately, it left me little to no place to hide. Crap.
I turned around to find a spot, to see him towering over me with a smile and a laugh.
“You listen to Maroon 5?”
“Yes. Why? Do you have something to say about it?”
He didn’t speak. His solid blue eyes stared into mine with unknown intensity. He kissed me. And it was about goddamn time.
“They’re back”
My face was wet. I was ******** this.
I grabbed my backpack and slipped out the back door. The edge of the woods seemed to call to me, warm and inviting. Ignoring the dirt path, I sprung forward and flung myself into the forest’s sweet embrace.
And lives have changed by the way we free our minds
What was earlier a thought was now a hard based fact. Compiled with the evidence of two notes in the place of her presence.
Jesse Warner was avoiding me.
Apparently she had decided to go out swimming. The note failed to say where.
“Yo Danny boy!”
In an instant the spirit materialized in front of me, annoyed and impatient.
“What?”
“Where’s Jesse at?”
“Swimming.”
“I know that num nuts. Where is she swimming?”
“Maybe she wants to be left alone” Sam interjected, throwing the last armful of empty beer bottles in the trash. Something caught his eye, but he took one look at the ghost and said nothing. Weird.
“I don’t care what she wants, I need to talk to her,” I replied, fighting not to raise my voice at him. It’d just get him pissed, and the last thing I wanted on my plate was an annoyed Sammy. He wasn’t annoyed though. He was…amused. Grinning even. What the ******** really care about this girl.”
“Shut it,” I said sternly with a glare of silence before turning to Dan. “Now Casper, I’m askin one more time,” I began, cocking my gun at the same time, “then I’m gonna shoot you with a load of rock salt. It’ll feel like dyin’ all over again. Where is she?”
The damn dead b*****d laughed.
“I like you already. She’s at the lake behind the woods, just follow the path. It’ll lead you straight to her.”
“Thanks dead boy.”
“…Don’t call me dead boy, Winchester.”
And I know, I know I'll have to watch them pass away
Music and cold water surrounded me. My black 30 gb iPod sat on an old blue towel a little ways down the dock, hooked up to its speakers. It was currently blasting Lacuna Coil, Our Truth. How ironic.
I climbed a ladder up the dock, wearing a black two-piece batching suit. It was nothing special, the usual tie back halter top that made your boob’s look huge with matching bottoms that tied on each hip. But I was alone, so it didn’t bother me.
The constant swarm of questions on my mind however, did. How did Danny not detect Eric in the house? What was I going to do with Dean? What would I do if I couldn’t get them out of town before the moon rose tomorrow night? How did I even feel about Dean?
I didn’t know. I didn’t know a damn thing. And it bugged the living hell out of me. Okay, just one question at a time Jesse old girl.
Dean was amusing, devious, and way over confident. Cute in his own right, and holy hotness Batman. He loved the classics of rock, old muscle cars, and hunting. We had discussed this last night before Sam interrupted our game. Danny was right. Dean was good for me, dare I say perfect for me.
But I wouldn’t do it. I would not fall for Dean Winchester. He would be the death of me. Literally. Sooner or later he’d find out what I really was. Sooner or later, I’d end up dead. I may be cursed, but I wanted to live.
Satisfied with my conclusion, I sat down on the towel, listening to blue-jays music over my own as I took a sip of tea. It was delicious, warm, inviting, and poisonous. My beast rose faster then a bat outta hell. I spat it out in disgust, throwing the mug and its contents onto the nearby banking.
Wolfsbane. That son of a b***h. My skin was doing the tango and my eyes burned a violent ice blue once again. It does not bane wolves; it’s the equivalent of ******** catnip!
Breathing ragged and hard, as if I was having an asthma attack, I rushed to my bag. Desperately emptying it onto the dock until I spotted a full syringe. My hands shook so hard it took three tries to pop the cap and get it positioned above my carotid artery. Finally I breathed a sigh of relief as the sweet medicine rushed into my veins.
I shoved the contents back into my bag once my vitals were normal again. It wouldn’t be the last time, that was certain. I needed to keep my senses on edge, especially after last night’s discovery. So I was only on Ativan and silver nitrate. Here’s to God it works.
It did. I heard a twig snap from at least 500 feet away when that spicy scent floated towards me. Dean. <********! How the ******** did he find me?
Danny. That dead ungrateful b*****d. I was going to kill him. Except I couldn’t. ********! It was all my mind could think. <******** ******** ********! ******** Dean and his…nevermind. Memories. How the hell did he do that thing with his tongue… Bad bad BAD memories. Very VERY BAD!!!! <******** it. I was going to do what I came here to do.
Quickly, I sprinted down the dock and dove back into the lake’s cool embrace.
And being with you was the moment I opened my eyes…
I want to dance with you with the midnight moon one in motion and do it again
I never knew how graceful she was. I realized this as I watched her dive in the water while walking up the path.
Hell, I knew she was limber, proved that damn well last night, but this? How any one pulled a flip like that I had no ******** idea. It was like she had muscles in places no one should.
Fast as hell, I shucked off my clothes till I was down to my navy boxers, and joined her in the water. Almost couldn’t blame her evasiveness at the feel of the cool water. Almost.
When I surfaced her gray orbs were on me, an uneasy smile on her face.
“How’d you find this place?” she asked, stretching in the cool clear water while floating lazily on her back.
“Casper told me.”
She laughed as I floated beside her.
“His name is Daniel,”
“His name is ‘I’m a pain in the a** who should be shot with rock salt’”
Diving down, she appeared again at the ladder, slowly climbing out. Slow was good, slow was fun to watch.
I followed her, taking a seat behind her on the warm wood. She looked so ******** cute, dangling her feet in the water there, kicking up a soft arc of water.
God, Sam was right. I was so totally screwed.
“I asked the Sheriff about that message in the park. He said you knew.”
She let out a sigh, her expression immediately giving way to something…deeper. Something dark that I hadn’t even known was there.
“Its just something I told Eric the night I broke up with him. I told him our feelings were only skin deep. Apparently he feels otherwise.”
“Ok, now here’s something I didn’t ask the Sheriff about. What’s been up with you today?”
“Well, good thing you didn’t ask David about that,” she said with a laugh, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Seriously.”
“Seriously…I’m not sure what I’m doing. I’m not…how the ******** do I put this…I’m not used to sleeping with someone and waking up with them the next morning. And I’ve never had one living in my house that happens to be a fellow hunter. To be honest with you, I don’t know what the ******** to do next.”
“Well, that makes two of us sweetheart! I don’t do this…share our feelings s**t often. Ever.”
“Well then why me?” she asked, pitch of her voice raising in distress.
“Maybe because I care about you!”
You dare tell me you love me
Oh god…oh god…OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!!!!
This is a disaster, a tragedy! I’ve gotta tell him he can’t fall for me. Tell him he doesn’t know me.
No, bad idea! Cause then he’ll start digging into stuff and want to get to know me because he cares about me and then he’ll figure out I’m werewolf and then he’ll hate me and he’ll kill me and he’ll steal my car! I’ve seen the way he looks at her!
Ok, that last bit was probably just insane ranting but you know what I mean!
What do I do what do I do. I thought that phrase over and over so phase it sounded like chipmunks were running circles in my cranium.
Then it hit me.
I could run.
“Dean…you’re making a drama out of nothing. It was just sex. Really amazing mind-blowing sex, but that’s all.”
“Nothing else?”
God how he tried to hide it, handsome face perfectly void of all emotion. I was glad and pained for it. Glad for it kept my eyes somewhere other than that perfectly toned chest of sin. But I could smell it there, beneath it all. Something so real I could almost hold it in my hands.
And now I was going to break it.
“Nope.”
He laughed, so joyous and innocent, and so full of pain. God I wanted to kiss him. To tell him I cared. But he would be the death of me. And death was not an option. Not until I killed Eric. Not until I finished it.
“Good. Now, you tell Sam we had a chick flick moment, I’ll kill you.”
I laughed.
“Why would when I can give you such a better reason to do so?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but the words never came out. Because I shoved him in the lake.
I had him for one more night. And damned if I was gonna enjoy it.
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