My Little Corner of the World

Day 7 Update

2008-07-19T18:43:21Z

Well, one week down, one more to go.
I'm still not happy with what I wrote yesterday, but I've sent it to my First Reader, maharet83 , so hopefully, she'll have some tips on what to cut and what to leave.

BUT, I do take my obligations seriously, and I did managed to write today. It's rough draft, and it's skipping a couple of scenes, but still, new words.
My goal was 500 words. How'd I do?

3,531 + 1,908
(54.0% more)

1,908 / 500
(381.6%)

Yeah. Whoa.
Now, keep in mind that this is a rough draft - I outlined 6 scenes, skipped 3. But on the other hand, I do really hate what I've written yesterday, so it's gonna take time.
And muse.
And possibly a night with Dean.... *iz naughty ;) *

Oh, and btw, since this ficathon started, I've written 6336 words! Yay!

Day 6 Update

2008-07-18T20:57:25Z

Well, another day gone, and so is the week. One out of two. Which means there's a week for me to finish this fic.
Is it possible?
Well, I'm in the scene before last, and then there's a tiny epilogue which may not be an epilogue, but it's already written. May be another tiny scene in there. So I'm guessing chapter 11 and possibly 12, and then the fic is done.

2,392 + 1,141
(47.7% more)

goal:

1,141 / 1,200
(95.1%)

So that's the okay news. 95% of my goal was reached - which is not great, but not too bad. Unless... well, bad news is, imo, all 1141 words are total crap. *sigh*
I'm really starting to hate this fic.
*is in need of inspiration* *and cookies* *and sleep*

Day 5 Update

2008-07-17T20:02:20Z

So, what have I written today?

2,305 + 0
(0.0% more)

Sadly, nothing. RL stepped in. Hopefully, I'll make up for it tomorrow.
*fingers crossed*

Update, Day 4

2008-07-16T17:16:22Z

I set a goal of 1000 words today. Wanna know how I did?

1,364 / 1,000
(136.4%)

So, chapter 11 - what does it look like?

941 + 1,364
(145.0% more)

Two scenes down.
I can see the ligth at the end of the tunnel, this fic is getting closer to the end!

I'm gonna go eat now, cuz I'm starving.

Day 3 and other rants

2008-07-15T16:15:03Z

Ok, let's get this out of the way. Day 3 of the ficfinishing marathon.

741 + 333
(44.9% more)

741 words edited, 333 words added to chapter 11. I'm pretty sure I'm done for the day.

Aaaaand on to other things.

First, I'm sad to say tru_faith_lost has decided to take down all of her fic, which makes me all sorts of sad. If you haven't read any of her stuff, it's your loss. Although, if you're interested, you can contact her and she'll send you a zip file with her stories - and trust me, it's totally worth it.

Second, I have GOT to rec this fic, cuz it's made of awesome. And picutres.
Dimensions and Verticals by bellatemple
It's a crack pic-fic about Sam accidentally getting Dean out of hell. It's totally awesome. Go. Read. Leave a cookie for the author.

Third is kinda weird, but I was thinking, if Dean is dead, and Andy is dead (/0\), is there any chance for a spinoff? *thinks it's an awesome idea*

Forth isn't funny, nor fandom related.
Two years ago, there was a war here. Two years ago, two (well, ok, three, but that's another story) of our soldiers were captived by Hezbollah, or however the hell you spell that.
Two years, and they refused to even give the families proof of life, or more correctly, or death. There had been no word of their condition whatsoever.
For two years (almost), we have been assuming the soldiers were dead.
A deal was made for the exchange of their bodies for Hezbolla's prisoners, which is supposed to take place tomorrow.
Now, don't get me started on what I think about this deal (cuz yeah, don't make deals with devils), but today, Lebanonies papers reported "Israel is set for a surprise" and that "One of the soldiers is dead, the fate of the other is unknown".
And I'm thinking, this is crueler than any demon. To give false hope now? And then laugh about it?
There is evil in this world. And it's all around us, sadly.
My prayers go to the families of those soldiers (and the third one, who's not i

Day 2 update

2008-07-14T16:54:26Z

Day 2 of ficfinishing marathon, and what have I done today?

4,944 + 1,183
(23.9% more)

Finished editing all those messy, messy scenes, wrote 1183 more words ( ) And finished chapter 10 ()
Sending it to my wonderful beta tonight, and no more writing till tomorrow.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

2008-07-11T14:48:52Z

I don't know why lj alerts hate me. Sometimes it just won't alert people's posts, or more importantly, their birthdays!

So,
To my friend, tru_faith_lost !!!

, !

Anything I can get you for your birthday?

Picking Up Where We Left Off (Gen, 9b)

2008-07-07T16:56:14Z

Title: Picking Up Where We Left Off
Disclaimer: This is Kripke's sandbox, I just like playing with his toys ;)
Rating: R, for language and violence.
Category: Gen.
Pairings: None.
Characters: Dean, Sam, John, OCs, other canon characters.
Spoilers: For all episodes aired in the US. This story is mostly AU for season 3, but some characters and events will be mentioned.

Comments: Are what feeds my muse ;)

A/N: Much love and cookies to the awesomeness that is my beta tru_faith_lost , who helps making this story better. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Son of A/N: Uh, no, I didn't go there. This is not a deathfic.

Summary: Twenty five years ago, a demon killed Mary Winchester and tainted her son. Six years ago, someone drugged and abducted Dean Winchester. Nine months ago, one of a yellow eyed demon's tainted kids killed Sam Winchester. A few days later, the gates to hell opened, and all hell broke loose. And now, everything's picking up where it left off....

Chapter Nine (Part Two)

Sam paced back and forth, checking his watch for the sixth time in half as many minutes. There was a green bench right next to him, under a flickering street lamp. At first Sam thought the flickering light was a sign. Now he just found it annoying. He considered sitting down, but he just couldn’t find it in him to stay still, to not do something. Ruby had said midnight, and it was ten minutes past. He'd tried to put the doubts away, the thoughts that it had been a wild goose chase, a distraction designed to keep him away from his brother. Sam bit off what was left of his fingernails. He couldn’t think like that, not now. He had to stay positive; he had to believe –

"Hey Sam." Sam turned around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

"Ruby."

"You know, you could just say hi every now and then," Ruby said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Where is he?" Sam demanded. The corners of Ruby's mouth turned down and she nodded a little.

"You know, that whole lost little puppy thing you've got going on? It's kinda cute," she noted. Sam clenched his jaw and drew the Colt from the small of his back.

"Still think it's cute?" Sam challenged.

"Welcome to the big boy playground, Sammy," Ruby said. "Now put the gun down before you hurt someone."

"That's kinda the point," Sam asserted. "Where's my brother?"

"Sam."

"I'm done playing games," Sam yelled, shoving the gun in Ruby's face. "Where's my brother?" He demanded. Ruby tilted her head to the side.

"Sam, meet Fiona," she said, and Sam whirled around to see another woman, clad in red leather pants and a white shirt under a jean jacket. He took a quick step back, aiming the gun back and forth between the two women.

"Sam Winchester. It's a pleasure," Fiona smiled, reaching her hand out to shake his. Sam ignored her.

"I knew it," he muttered, "It was a trap."

Ruby took a couple of steps closer to him. "It's not a trap, Sam. You wanted more information about the demon that holds your brother, didn’t you?" She asked, jutting her head toward Fiona. Sam looked suspiciously from one woman to the other, still aiming the gun at them and slowly backing away.

"Oh, would you stop with the theatrics already?" Ruby snapped, "This is getting annoying Sam, so just sit your ass down and listen!"

Sam hesitated, jaw muscles working hard. His eyes darted around in search of other hidden threats. "Talk fast," he said through gritted teeth.

"Is that any way to talk to someone who was kind enough to…"

"I said, talk fast!" Sam yelled, cutting Ruby off. Ruby narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, huffing a little.

"Well, maybe we shouldn’t be talking to you after all," she said and started pacing, shooting angry glares Sam's way. "You know, I worked my butt off for you, Sam. You should be kissing my ass right about now."

Sam hesitated and lowered his gun a fraction, still wary.

"Well?" Ruby demanded.

Sam gave a small nod and sighed. "I'm listening," he said compliantly.

"You've run out of time," Fiona said softly, and Sam turned to look at her. "It's too late to help your brother."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam demanded.

"It's already been seven days. Not much time before he…"

"Before he what?"

"Before they kill them all," Fiona replied coolly, and Sam swallowed hard. He could feel his heart start to race, his hands shake, and he lowered his gun.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice breaking a little.

"I mean, in a week's time, they'll all be dead," Fiona repeated. Sam shook his head and opened his mouth to protest when Fiona went on. "I work for the demon that holds your brother and the rest," she said.

"And what demon is that?"

"Her name is Dumah," Fiona said, "But she's not important right now. She's only in charge for a few more days. Until they bring Him back," she finished.

"Bring who?" Sam asked, feeling a little light-headed.

"The Master," Ruby said in a small voice, "A demon so old and powerful, even demons don’t know its true name."

Sam stared at Ruby for a moment, before tearing his eyes away from her and looking at Fiona. "And you work for him? For the Master?" He asked.

Fiona shook her head. "I work for Dumah," she repeated, "But I believed in Azazel's plan. I will follow you."

Sam rubbed at the back of his head. "Uh… Thanks. I guess," he said. "Do you know where they're holding my brother?"

Fiona smiled. "I do," she said, and held up her hand to stop Sam from asking his next question. "And no, I will not tell you."

Sam frowned. "Why the hell not?" He demanded.

"Because you would go there, and you'd die," Fiona said calmly. "The place is well guarded. There are many demons there, and many more who'd come at a moment's notice. If you go there now, like this, you will surely die."

"I don’t think so." Sam twisted the gun in his hand to make sure she saw it for what it was.

"Because of the Colt?" Fiona smiled, "You'd have to reload eventually. You'd never get the chance," she said patiently. "Trust me; you wouldn’t even make it through the front doors, Colt or no Colt."

"Then how do I get to him?"

Fiona took a few steps closer to Sam. "You need to understand, Sam," she let out a little breath, "he's from the thirteenth generation of the thirteenth generation. Dumah would never allow you to save him, save any of them."

Sam frowned. "The thirteenth generation of the thirteenth generation? What does that even mean?" He asked.

Fiona sighed. "Mind if I sit down?" She asked, gesturing at the bench. "Those heels may look awesome, but they're more torture than I'd like. Besides, I'd always rather dishing it out, if you know what I mean…" she smiled at little at her own joke as she walked over to the bench and sat down. Sam sat down next to her, while Ruby walked over to stand behind them, leaning against the backrest.

"No one really remembers how it happened, how the Old One became trapped in Hell," Ruby said. "Some demons even believe He may be Lucifer himself, but no one knows for sure."

Sam's brows shot to his hairline. "Lucifer is real?" He asked, more than a little wonder in his voice. "Then isn't he supposed to be… I dunno, like your god or something?"

"Many believe he is," Fiona supplied.

"Then why help me?" Sam questioned.

"You've never been to Hell, Sam," Ruby said dryly. "Trust me when I say it's not the best vacation spot. There's a reason we spend so much time and effort trying to claw our way out of there," she stated, and Fiona went on.

"Lucifer is believed to be the one to bring Hell to Earth, and I, for one, would rather He didn’t," she said.

Sam nodded a little, mind reeling with this new information as he tried to absorb it all and see the connection to his brother. "Okay," he said, stalling for time. He turned to Fiona. "You still haven’t answered my question. What does the thirteenth generation of the thirteenth generation mean?"

"It means those guys just spent the last six hundred and fifty years or so trying to bring their Master back," Ruby noted.

"They'd nearly succeeded six years ago," Fiona cut in before Sam had had the chance to say anything. "Would have, if it weren’t for those hunters."

"Hunters?"

"I don’t know how they'd found out, how they even made it past the doors," Fiona said, and shook her head. "Whatever it was, Dumah will not make the same mistake again."

"Are you telling me they took those people before? And then, what, took them again? The same people, for the same purpose?" Sam asked.

"Yes."

"Why my brother?"

"He has been marked. Since birth. I marked him myself," Fiona admitted, and Sam had to control himself or he was going to put a bullet through her head.

Fiona gave a little smile. "Wasn’t even supposed to be him," she murmured, almost to herself. "It's the first one that's important. The first of the thirteen in each generation. Their birth is foretold in signs, omens. They usually have the blood of the original thirteen in them," Fiona went on. She scratched her neck. "With the others, it's all about timing. It doesn’t really matter who we mark, just the timing. They have to be marked the day they're born; thirteen weeks, thirteen days, thirteen hours and thirteen minutes after the first one is marked," she explained.

"I was sent to mark a child. Another child. They had a child in mind when they sent me there, but when I got there and saw your brother…" A smile spread slowly on her red painted lips. "What can I say? He was just so cute," she shrugged helplessly and Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. Figures.

"I don’t get it," Sam said a moment later, "I know Dean as well as I know myself, and I don’t remember any special mark…"

"Oh, it's nothing physical," Fiona jumped in quickly, "We are not permitted to harm the infants in any way. It's a mark only we can see, and it calls to us, lets us know where the child is."

Sam considered it for a moment before asking; "So what's going to happen to them?"

"Well, usually it's not too bad," Fiona answered, "Just your basic ritual, a little bloodletting and such. But not this time. This is the thirteenth generation of the thirteenth generation. It'll be different this time. The final ritual."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, it'll be longer for starters. A day for each person; thirteen days total. And on the fourteenth day, they will all be sacrificed, their blood and souls used to bring the Master back," Fiona said coolly. Sam blanched, his mouth suddenly went dry. Fiona petted his thigh sympathetically.

"They don’t know who your brother is just yet," she said, as if it should mean something to Sam. "I mean, they know, but they don’t know, you know? They don’t know he's your brother, that he's a hunter, or a hunter's kin."

"Does that matter?" Sam asked, "I mean, if I go there and say he's my brother, would they let him go?"

Fiona blinked and stared at Sam for a moment, then drew back. "Sam, if you tell them he is in any way related to you..." She shook her head. "The sacrifice is a necessity. The blood and soul are needed, and therefore taken. But it will be quick. They will be drugged… It will be painless, unless someone rubs them the wrong way. If they knew they had your brother there…" She shook her head again. "They will torture him, hurt him so bad that by the time he dies, he will not be able to recognize himself, let alone recognize you," she finished softly and got up from the bench. Sam's heart was pounding, his blood pumping in his ears. Fiona started pacing.

"You cannot save him," she said softly, "You mustn’t, for his own good. You have to let your brother go. It's best for you to move on, get stronger. Get your revenge later."

"That's not an option," Sam said through gritted teeth.

"You need to understand, they will be on guard. They'll be sharp, prepared for anything. Even with the Colt, you cannot save him. You have to let him go, focus on yourself, on getting stronger…"

"That's not going to happen!" Sam snapped, raising his eyes to meet Fiona's, pointing the gun to her head.

"You take me to him. You get me there, and you tell me how to get him out!" He ordered.

Fiona pursed her lips. "No," she said, and Sam practically jumped to his feet.

"You take me to my brother, or I'm going to put a bullet through your head!" He threatened. Fiona glared at him for a moment, before she opened her mouth and screamed. Dark smoke came out of her mouth and nose, hovering over her for a few seconds before flying away, leaving one terrified meat suit in its wake.

Ruby sighed. "You know, getting demons to help you is hard enough without you threatening to kill the ones that do," she said. She was gone when Sam turned to look at her. He quickly turned back when Fiona's former host started screaming.

Dean's heart was well on its way to beating right out of his chest when three of the men that went out came back, half carrying, half dragging a woman.

She wasn’t one of the prisoners. She was a pale woman, with long black hair. She wore a long black dress and black heels. Her arms were bound by thick shackles with symbols on them, which probably meant they needed a little extra boot to keep that one tied up. The woman glared his way, and any sympathy Dean may have had for her flew out the window. Red, iris-less eyes tend to do that to you.

She didn’t look like the demon he'd sealed the deal with, but then again, he'd talked to the crossroads demon twice now, and it had looked different both times. Dean swallowed hard, watching as the woman was brought to her knees before their captor.

"Hello, little sister," the demon smiled. The crossroads demon glared up at her.

"Dumah," she breathed, her eyes widening with fear, but at least now Dean knew his captor's name.

"Long time," Dumah said dryly, drumming her fingers on the barrel she was leaning against. "How've you been doing?" She asked conversationally. The crossroads demon glared at her.

"I've been better," she spat. Dumah made a non-committal sound in the back of her throat.

"Nice meat-suit you're wearing," she said, "Then again, you always did have a good fashion sense." Dumah smiled. The crossroads demon narrowed her eyes.

"That's why you did this? To get this skin?" She demanded, "You know all you had to do was ask…"

"And what name did you choose to go along with it this time?" Dumah cut her off, drawing circles with her fingers on the barrel lid. The crossroads demon stared at her for a long moment before answering.

"Jezebel."

Dumah raised a brow, lips twisting in a smile. "Good choice. Seductive, mysterious. Perfect for your line of work," she complimented.

"Can we get to the point here?" Jezebel snapped and pushed to her feet.

"You've been busy," Dumah noted flatly.

"Oh, you know, quotas to reach," Jezebel shrugged. "You mind taking these off?" She asked, raising her hands and motioning at the shackles.

"Yes, I do, actually." Dumah circled the barrel and leaned against it as she watched Jezebel. "You're going to be one soul short, I'm afraid," she said, jutting her chin at Dean. "I'm going to be needing Dean's soul."

Jezebel laughed. Dumah just stared at her until she stopped laughing. "You're not serious, are you?" She asked. Dumah just kept staring listlessly.

The crossroads demon shook her head. "No. I can't," she said, "He sold his soul to me fair and square," she turned her red eyes at Dean. "Stop this, or I will consider it as trying to weasel your way out of the deal," she threatened.

Dean shook his head. "No. No, no, no, no, the deal holds. I don’t want you to break it," he said quickly.

Both Dean and Jezebel's eyes turned to Dumah at the sound of something slapping against flesh. Dumah hummed as she slipped a second glove on. They were thick, blue gloves, the kind used when working with hazardous chemicals.

"So, sister. Winchester's soul?"

"He gave it to me," the demon insisted. Dumah gave her a chilled look before sidestepping the barrel and opening it. She dipped her fingers inside, toying with the liquid it held.

"And now you will give it to me," Dumah said non-chalantly. "Consider it an early birthday present." She smiled coolly.

"I will not give up his soul," the crossroad demon insisted. "It's already spoken for."

Dumah sighed. "Oh, well," she said, and walked over to the crossroads demon, stroking her cheek gently. Jezebel screamed and flinched back. Smoke rose from her skin where Dumah had touched it. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of… an understanding," Dumah said.

"You wouldn’t!" Jezebel said, bringing her hands to her face, touching it gingerly.

"I wish you no harm. Give me his soul and I will let you free," Dumah said casually. Jezebel shook her head.

"I've already got one unsatisfied customer that lost a Winchester. I'm not going to have another. I do have a reputation to uphold," she said.

"And if I say please?" Dumah asked, dipping her hand back in the holy water.

"His soul is already spoken for. You're going to have to take it up with my boss," Jezebel said quickly when Dumah neared her again.

"I'd really rather not. She won't have him for months now, and here you are, still handling the contract," Dumah said and then grabbed Jezebel by the neck, ignoring the demon's screams. "Give his soul to me," she ordered, pushing the crossroads demon towards the barrel.

"Dean! Dean, do something!" Jezebel screamed, "Stop! Dumah, stop!"

And she did stop. When she had Jezebel's nose millimeters from the water. "Just one soul, sister. I can get you another in its place, if you want, but I rather insist on getting this one."

Jezebel was breathing hard. She fought, tried to get away from the barrel of holy water, but Dumah wouldn’t let her.

Dean watched in horrified fascination. He wondered why the crossroads demon didn’t just leave the host. He figured the symbols on the shackles might have something to do with that. He kind of wished he could get to check those shackles out and see for himself. They looked kinda cool. And thinking about them meant he didn’t have to think about Sam dropping dead, so… win-win.

"Winchester's soul, and this will all be over," Dumah said. And then she shoved Jezebel's head under, holding her under a few seconds longer, while she thrashed and the holy water sizzled. Jezebel was shaking by the time Dumah had her out, her face red and ugly.

"Are you really going to make me repeat myself?" Dumah asked coolly.

"I can't!" Jezebel breathed, and Dumah pushed her in the water again. Jezebel fought hard, but Dumah didn’t even get a splash of holy water on her. Dean's heart was beating in his chest as he watched the two of them, trying his hardest to think, to find a way to use all that holy water to his own advantage.

"Please, she'll kill me if I release him of his contract!" Jezebel begged. Dumah pulled her up by her hair.

"What makes you think I wouldn’t?" She whispered in Jezebel's ear.

"No! No, you don’t understand, I really can't," Jezebel cried. "No, please, listen," she begged. Dumah was holding Jezebel's head inches from the water.

"I'm listening," she said.

"My word is bond. I cannot just break a contract. I can't. I swear, I can't!"

"Oh, come on. Sure you can," Dumah sneered, "You have before, when he asked you." Her cold eyes went to Dean, and he could hardly breathe.

"Not this one. This one is ironclad. I can't break it!" The crossroads demon cried. "But," she gasped, and wouldn’t, couldn’t, say more, as Dumah pushed her under again. She kept her submerged for a long time before finally letting up, pulling Jezebel out and dropping her to the floor like a sack of dirt.

"But?" Dumah reiterated. Jezebel was shaking uncontrollably. Dumah cleared her throat.

"I can't break the contract," Jezebel licked her chapped lips, her voice scratchy and hoarse. "But I can undo it. Make it go away. There's a lot of paperwork, you know? I… I could make it go away," she breathed and pushed herself to her elbows on the floor. "It could be as if Dean never made the deal. His soul would be his own."

A large smile spread across Dumah's lips. "Atta girl,"

"And Sam?" Dean asked. The crossroads demon turned to look at him, still gasping for breath.

"The contract will be no more. Sam will be a nine months old corpse."

"No!" Dean thrust against the bonds holding him to the wall. "This was my deal! It's my goddamn soul! Don’t you dare break it! Don’t you dare…" he sputtered, "You kill my brother, I swear there will be no safe place for you to hide, on earth or in Hell, you bitch!"

But Dumah just crouched next to Jezebel. "Come on, you know you want to do it, sister," she taunted, her eyes on Dean as her smile grew smug.

TBC

Previously: Where it all started >> 2 >> 3 >> 4 >> 5 >> 6 >> 7 >> 8 >> 9a >> Chapter 9b

View Poll: Are we there yet?

Thanks for reading!

Just something nice =)

2008-07-04T08:07:01Z

Christmas in July: What can Fandom Santa bring you?

Picking Up Where We Left Off (Gen, 9a/?)

2008-07-03T19:05:11Z

Title: Picking Up Where We Left Off
Disclaimer: This is Kripke's sandbox, I just like playing with his toys ;)
Rating: R, for language and violence.
Category: Gen.
Pairings: None.
Characters: Dean, Sam, John, OCs, other canon characters.
Spoilers: For all episodes aired in the US. This story is mostly AU for season 3, but some characters and events will be mentioned.

Comments: Are what feeds my muse ;)

A/N: Much love and cookies to the awesomeness that is my beta tru_faith_lost . All remaining mistakes are mine.
Son of A/N: This chapter? Kicked my @$$. It really did. But it ended up being pretty long, so I've cut it. Next part should be up as soon as it gets back from my beta. Oh, and happy Fourth of July!

Summary: Twenty five years ago, a demon killed Mary Winchester and tainted her son. Six years ago, someone drugged and abducted Dean Winchester. Nine months ago, one of a yellow eyed demon's tainted kids killed Sam Winchester. A few days later, the gates to hell opened, and all hell broke loose. And now, everything's picking up where it left off....

Chapter Nine

Dean instinctively straightened when the door opened. He could see Annie stiffen from the corner of his eye and tightened his hold on Jesse. A woman came through the door, or rather stormed through it. Anger practically rolled off her in waves, and Dean pushed to his feet, Ben doing the same to his left.

The woman scanned the room, and everyone in it seemed to try and make themselves smaller. The black pools of her eyes swept over them, finally landing on Dean, and yeah, no doubt she wasn’t human. Dean swallowed hard and shifted Jesse around. He was suddenly painfully aware of the wall at his back. Ben, Annie and everyone else seemed to clear away from him, and honestly, Dean couldn’t blame them; the woman was practically exuding wrath.

For the slightest of moments, Dean couldn’t help but stare at her, because damn, she was hot. He could probably do all kinds of things to her, if she wasn’t, you know, trying to kill them all. And a demon. Dean tried to peel Jesse off him, set him down on the floor, or at least hand him over to one of the others, but the terrified five- year-old held him in a death grip, eyes wide with fear. Dean could feel his little heart pumping against his chest and clenched his jaw.

The woman – tall, with long black hair done in ringlets and a dark complexion – made her way across the room with long, purposeful strides. Dean swallowed hard. He finally managed to put Jesse down. The boy shrieked in horror, and kept on shrieking even after Naomi took him in her arms.

The woman stopped in front of Dean and stretched to her full height. Dean sort of wished he could take a step or two back, and then mentally slapped himself. Get your act together, Winchester. This demon ain't no different than any other SOB you've sent back to hell.

The woman didn’t stop until she was right in his personal space. "You," she spat, and her voice was cold enough to chill his blood. "Come with me."

Oh, hell no, Dean thought, not even realizing he was holding his breath,

"Now!" The woman snapped, and Dean couldn’t help but flinch at the menace in her voice. He glanced around at the others, who kept their distance from him. He didn’t know what it was about this demon, but what Dean wanted most of all at that moment was to be far, far away from her. Man up, Winchester! Dean noticed the other demons now, six in number, who must have followed the woman in the room.

"Fine," the woman said coolly, "Start killing people," she ordered, not taking her eyes off of Dean. Screams broke out as the demons made their way towards the others.

"Oh, come on, you really think I'm gonna buy that?" Dean asked, "After all the trouble you've gone through to get us here, twice, you're just gonna kill people because I'm not going to be your little lap dog?"

The woman gave him a cold look that made a chill run down his spine. "Yes," she said. Dean's blood was rushing in his ears, his heart pounding. The others were all getting as far as they could, but there was nowhere to go. Dean forced himself to smirk.

"I don’t believe you," he said.

"Do you really want to test me?" The woman shot back. Dean licked his dry, chapped lips.

"You wouldn’t do it," he said, and did his best to keep his voice strong, steady. "You need us. For some reason, you need us. You're not going to kill anyone. If you were going to kill us, you would have done so by now. You would have done so six years ago," Dean argued.

The woman walked around him slowly, and Dean really hoped no one noticed him shudder. Having her cold, dark gaze focused on him made him feel like he was diving into ice water. "Perhaps you're right," the woman said, "there was a reason I had you all brought back here." She stood in front of him again, studying him for a moment, before she turned her back to him. "Kill the little boy," she ordered, and then turned to look at Dean. "He wasn’t there six years ago. I never wanted him here anyway," she said with a cruel smirk.

Dean gasped as the demons made their way to Jesse and Naomi. "You wouldn’t."

The demon leaned in close. "Try me," she whispered in his ear. "Paint the place with the boy's blood!" She ordered, and grinned at the sound of screams.

"Alright!" Dean said, heart pounding fast against his chest, "Alright, just don’t…" His eyes traveled to the scared little boy, to the terrified woman who tried to keep hold of him, "I'm coming."

A tiny smile appeared on the woman's lips. "That's so sweet," she said, and slapped Dean's cheek, giving it a little pinch. "You thought you had a choice." She smirked at him, before she turned and started for the door. "Take him," she told her men as she walked out of the room. Two men reached for Dean. He tried to shrug them off, but they wouldn’t let go. Jesse cried out for him and Dean turned to look at the scared little boy.

"You stay here with Ben and Naomi, okay runt?" Dean tried for a smile, "I'll be back before you know it. Just stay with them," Dean said as confidently as he could, but the little boy just shook his head and fought Naomi, trying to break loose. Dean was about to say something else, but the men at his side grabbed him and practically carried him out of the room.

"Hey, Bobby, check this out," Sam said, spreading the records and his notes on the table beside Bobby. Singer shifted the notes around a little so he could see them better, then squinted and pulled the notes closer.

"That guy's name is in the fireman's report," he noted, "He's one of the cops that sniffed around after the fire. One of those that tried to look into the cult case before the mayor decided to bury the whole thing," Bobby said. Sam nodded and sat down next to him.

"Yeah, well I was just looking at the hospital records from the weeks before and after the fire, and check this out," Sam said, pointing at one of the papers. "The couple days after that fire, eight people were admitted to hospitals nearby, all suffering from pretty much the same symptoms. And get this; officer Martinez is registered here for bringing one of the supposed victims to County hospital."

"Yeah?" Bobby prompted.

"The victim's name was Donald Nash," Sam said. Bobby waited for him to elaborate. Sam didn’t.

"Yeah?"

"Bobby, Donald Nash is one of Dean's aliases," Sam said. It took a moment for his words to sink in with Bobby. "We should go, check this guy out, talk to him. See what he remembers," Sam continued.

"Sure thing, Sam," Bobby said. He got up from the table and went over to the bedside table to get his car keys when Sam's cell started ringing. Sam practically leapt out of his chair to get to it.

"Dean?"

"Not really." The hopeful expression died on Sam's face.

"Ruby." The word tasted like ash in his mouth.

"Oh, come on Sam, stop pouting. You know deep inside you're happy…"

"Listen, Ruby, I really don’t have the time…" Sam started before Ruby cut him off.

"Really?" She asked dryly. "Huh. And here I thought you wanted to know more about the demon that's after your brother. But hey, if you don’t, I can always…"

"No, Ruby wait!" Sam said quickly. There was no answer on the other side of the line. Sam's heart skipped a beat. "Ruby?"

"Greenoak Park. Midnight. Come alone," Ruby said and hung up.

"Why?" Sam asked before he realized there was no one on the other end of the line. "Ruby?"

"Ruby?" Bobby asked gruffly. "What she want?"

"She says she has more information about Dean," Sam said, still holding the phone up to his ear, his heart beating fast.

"And you believe her?" Bobby's tone of voice made it clear what he thought about that.

"I can't afford not to, Bobby," Sam said. Bobby sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Tell you what, why don’t I go talk to the cop, and you go talk to your little demon friend," Bobby suggested, resigned. Sam gave him a small smile of gratitude.

"Thanks, Bobby."

Bobby frowned. "Don’t you thank me yet, boy," he grunted. "I come back and you're in any kind of trouble, I'm gonna kick your ass from here to Sunday, you got me?"

Sam's smile grew wider. Bobby rolled his eyes and headed for the door, muttering under his breath.

Dean was taken down a dusty corridor with boarded up windows into another room. This room was much smaller than the room the others were kept in. It looked like some sort of boiler room, with many pipes going through it. There were several barrels around, and dust and muck all over. The room smelled of mildew and neglect, the walls painted with red and black symbols, red and black candles lit all around.

Dean ducked his head to avoid getting hit by a low pipeline as he was pushed inside. The woman, demon, whatever, was waiting for him there, her arms crossed over her chest. Dean saw her eyes narrow as he was shoved roughly against the wall.

"Hey, watch out, don’t damage the merchandise," Dean said, and grunted when his face was introduced to the wall. His arms were pulled behind his back and he felt the cool, metallic feel of cuffs close tightly around his wrists. The sound of the woman's high heels resonated around the room as she came closer. She leaned against the wall right next to Dean.

"Mr. Winchester," she grabbed his face, squishing it, and then turned to look at the others in the room. "You realize who we got here, guys?" She asked, and turned her eyes back on Dean. "Why, it's Dean Winchester himself. The Dean Winchester."

Dean caught the men exchanging glances from the corner of his eye. He tried for a smile, which wasn’t an easy feat, considering the woman had an iron grip on his face. "Aww, that's alright sweetheart, I'm always glad to meet a fan. Hey, I can sign autographs or something for…" Dean didn’t get to finish the sentence before he was flung across the room and hit another wall, his breath leaving him in a quick rush of air. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the black dots that hovered around his field of vision.

The woman slowly made her way towards him. "You know, it took me a while to connect the dots, but here you are, in the flesh," she said and punched him in the gut so hard Dean folded in two, coughing. "You've been a naughty boy, Dean," the woman cooed.

"Well, what can I say?" Dean tried to straighten and smirked, "Being nice just ain't the same since I found out there was no Sant…" She punched him again before he finished the sentence, and Dean fell to his knees, cursing and gasping for breath.

The woman grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head up. "Funny," she said dryly, "But you know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking six years ago, your daddy was alive. I'm thinking six years ago, we had you for five whole days, and daddy never even came looking for you. The great John Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, and he never lifted a finger trying to save you," she mocked him and smiled. "And you know what else?" She went on, "Your daddy's gone now. No one's coming for you, not six years ago, and not this time," she finished, and punched him in the gut again.

Dean clenched his jaw, a look of defiance on his face, because this bitch could say whatever she wanted, Dean knew better. He knew Sammy. Sammy would come for him.

The woman crouched beside him, cocked her head to the side. "And then you went ahead and did something stupid," she said and sighed. "Not that that should shock me or anything," she shrugged, and then narrowed her eyes and Dean could swear hate and fury were practically oozing off of her.

She turned her head to look at the others. "Dean here went and sold his soul, our soul, to a lowly crossroads demon." The woman's voice was ice-cold. "And you idiots never even thought to check!" She yelled, and suddenly Dean found himself flattened against the wall, barely able to breathe. At least he wasn’t the only one this time. The other men were flung back across the room as well.

The woman got to her feet and straightened to her full height. "Luckily, I did," she said coolly, "And I'm going to fix it." Dean's stomach tied up in knots at the tone of her voice, his heart racing in his chest.

"Uh, I don’t think so," he said, and this time looked straight in her eyes when she turned to look at him. "See, the deal had some fine print, and I'm not…"

"No one's talking to you," the woman cut him off. She walked over to one of the barrels and leaned against it. "Bring her in," she ordered dryly, and a chill ran down Dean's spine.

TBC

Previously: Where it all started >> 2 >> 3 >> 4 >> 5 >> 6 >> 7 >> 8 >> Chapter 9a

URGH! For some reason, stupid LJ won't let me post my poll, so please, please comment! (I'll give you cookies and updates =D )

Thanks for reading!

Picking Up Where We Left Off (Gen, 8/?)

2008-06-26T15:19:49Z

Title: Picking Up Where We Left Off
Disclaimer: This is Kripke's sandbox, I just like playing with his toys ;)
Rating: R, for language and violence.
Category: Gen.
Pairings: None.
Characters: Dean, Sam, John, OCs, other canon characters.
Spoilers: For all episodes aired in the US. This story is mostly AU for season 3, but some characters and events will be mentioned.

Comments: Are what feeds my muse ;)

A/N: Much love and cookies to the awesomeness that is my beta tru_faith_lost . All remaining mistakes are mine.
Son of A/N: Yeah, so this wasn't the chapter made of EVOL, just the one before it. But I did finally get over the scene that was totally kicking my ass, so there should be a nice update next week. *fingers crossed*

Summary: Twenty five years ago, a demon killed Mary Winchester and tainted her son. Six years ago, someone drugged and abducted Dean Winchester. Nine months ago, one of a yellow eyed demon's tainted kids killed Sam Winchester. A few days later, the gates to hell opened, and all hell broke loose. And now, everything's picking up where it left off....

Chapter Eight

"Anything?" Sam asked as soon as Bobby opened the door. Dean had been missing for six days. Six days, and this was the only clue they had to go on, if any. Bobby closed the door behind him and went over to the mini-fridge, took out a bottle of beer, and had a good, long sip before he bothered answering Sam.

"There were eleven fires around here six years ago," Bobby said, "Well, eleven that didn’t involve some guy's trash can, anyway," he added when Sam looked up at him. "Two of them were in warehouses," Bobby finished, and Sam gave a slight nod.

"Okay," he said, "So we're splitting up?"

"Looks like," Bobby said, and took another long pull from his beer.

Dean couldn’t stand the thought of being weaponless. He searched every corner of the place, but the most he came up with were the crates, and he didn’t think coming at a demon with a sharp stick would do much good. He did make a few more holy water bottles, but then the slight headache he'd been having since he woke up turned into a sledge hammer pounding behind his eyes and he just couldn’t take it anymore. So he gulped down half a bottle of water with his name on it. He hadn’t meant to, he'd only meant to take a couple of sips, but he was just so thirsty. And now his mind seemed to work in slow motion.

That’s why the next day, when they brought Mike back, Dean was too slow. All he'd managed to do was be there when Mike collapsed so he could catch him. Ben was quick to help him carry Mike's dead weight, but by the time Dean remembered the holy water, it was already too late.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, either. One moment he was checking Mike out, trying to stop him from bleeding all over the floor, (the cuts weren’t too bad, it wasn’t like he was going to bleed to death or anything, but the place wasn’t too clean, and the others weren’t exactly calm as it was) and the next thing he remembered, the door opened again.

It took him too long to get his bearings together, but once he did, he grabbed a bottle and pushed himself to his feet. He didn’t count on the floor being so wobbly, though.

"Here you go, Jesse," a woman said as she led a little boy in the room, holding his hand. "You sit here with these nice people until your aunt comes to pick you up, okay?" The woman said in a fake perky voice. The boy seemed scared as hell, his face tear-struck.

Dean tilted his head to the side, trying to figure it out. The boy couldn’t have been more than six years old. There had been some sort of pattern with all the others; mainly the fact that they had all been taken before, but this kid, he probably wasn’t even born back then. It just didn’t add up.

"I don’t want to wait here, I want Aunt Libby!" The kid cried and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve.

"Now, now, Jesse. Remember what we talked about? How you have to be a brave little boy, so your aunt will get here faster?" The woman chided, but the boy just started to cry harder.

Dean headed towards the woman and the little boy when another man stepped into the room, looking more than a little pissed.

"What the hell is this?" The man clipped, "Where's the girl?" He demanded. The little boy was quick to hide behind the woman.

"She died," the woman said.

"What?" The man bellowed, and Dean figured this was probably his chance. He motioned to Ben and hoped Ben understood that this was their best shot. The door had been left open. Ben gave him a slight nod and Dean focused his attention back on the new arrivals.

"What the hell do you mean…? How did you not know this before?" The man demanded.

"It's okay," the woman said with a slight smile, "Jesse here is going to be just perfect."

"A kid? A kid? What the hell am I supposed to do with…"

"An innocent," she smiled, "And with the right blood." At that, her smile widened. The man considered this for a moment, and then gave her a look that demanded more. The woman was quick to oblige. She knelt by the kid.

"Jesse, would you tell the nice man how old you are?" She asked sweetly. The boy shook his head and tried to hide behind her again. The woman wouldn’t let him. She had a firm hold on the kid's arm. "Jesse," There was a hint of warning in her tone, and the boy held up his hand, spreading five little fingers in the air. The woman smiled and looked up at the other man. "That's right," she said as she got to her feet, "You're five years old."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" The man demanded. "You have any idea how much planning went into…"

"His mother's dead," the woman cut him off. "She died in a car accident last year. She's the one you wanted me to pick up," the woman said. "The father, on the other hand, is trying to sneak out the door as we speak," she smirked, and both Dean and Ben froze. Ben's eyes were as big as saucers as he stared in shock from the little boy to the woman and back. Dean took a good look at the kid, trying to figure out if the woman had meant Ben or himself.

Ben startled when the doors suddenly closed with a bang. On the other side of the room, someone screamed and started crying. The man frowned. "Fine," he said flatly, eyes going from Dean and Ben. That was when Dean sprang into action. In a few quick strides, he was right behind the woman. He tapped on her shoulder and splashed half the bottle of holy water in her face as she turned to look at him.

The woman screamed as a black cloud shot out of her mouth, and she crumbled to the floor. Dean smirked, ignoring the screams and chaos that broke out behind him. He was more than used to that. He looked at the other man and was about to advance on him, when the guy smiled.

"Thanks for that," he said, and Dean frowned. "We'll see you soon, Eight," he added, and then Dean was flung against a wall so hard his vision blurred.

"I'm alright, I'm fine," he told Naomi as she helped him up. The floor tilted and Dean nearly lost his balance again, but Naomi held on.

"You sure?" She asked. Dean blinked and shook his head to try and clear it. "What the hell just happened?" Naomi asked, a little quiver in her voice. Dean blinked a few more times, and then looked around. The man was gone, but the woman was still there, still on the floor. He started his way towards her when she lifted her head, looked around in fear.

"What is this? Where am I?" She asked, pushing off the floor. She looked around, eyes going wide. "What is this place?" She demanded. And that's when Dean saw it. The marking on her arms, the crooked number ten. He pushed his sleeves up and squinted at the faded scar there, the two circles, the number on his arm. We'll see you soon, Eight. And then he cursed.

The warehouse was a bust. Something about faulty wiring that went from bad to worse when some genius poured water on it. Sam moved on to one of the buildings that burnt down, but it turned out to be a meth lab explosion that took out the entire building.

Sam walked into the diner and headed for a booth in the back. He was supposed to meet Bobby there for dinner before they went on investigating the fires. Sam was early though, so he'd asked for the specials menu and ordered some coffee while he waited. He gave the diner a once over – it wasn’t full, but wasn’t exactly empty; a nice enough place to bring a family.

Sam thanked the middle-aged waitress who brought his coffee and took out his father's journal. He'd read it a thousand times before, and yet, things kept taking on new meaning as the context changed.

He leafed quickly through the pages, looking for entries made in 2002. There were many of them; apparently, his father hunted a hell of a lot more after Sam had left for school. Sam rifled through the pages, looking for something he remembered reading but never quite fit in. He remembered asking Dean about it, but Dean had just dismissed it. Sam wasn’t so quick to dismiss it now.

Sam looked up from the journal when the little bell above the door rang. Bobby signaled the waitress for coffee even before he made it to Sam's booth.

"Anything?" Sam asked hopefully. Bobby sat down across from him and rubbed the back of his head.

"Sorry, Sam. Nothing demonic or supernatural about that fire. Just plain ole human stupidity," he said, and Sam let out a little sigh. He gave a slight nod, looking at the journal instead of at Bobby.

"I take it you didn’t have much luck, either," Bobby went on and Sam shook his head. Bobby smiled at the waitress who brought him his coffee and got a wink in return. He turned to watch her leave, and for a moment he reminded Sam so much of Dean he almost lost it.

"You okay, Sam?" Bobby asked when he turned back and noticed Sam's pallor. Sam gave a slight nod. Bobby scrutinized him a moment longer before he went on. "Well, maybe we ought to head back," Bobby suggested. "Maybe we did the wrong thing coming here."

Sam frowned, straightened. "How come?" He asked.

"Could be a wild goose chase," Bobby said and sipped his coffee. The waitress was back now, bringing their menus and a muffin for Bobby, who touched the tip of his hat and thanked her. Sam cut the flirting off before it got too far when he ordered a cheeseburger and a soda. Bobby raised a brow, but gave the waitress his order.

"You were saying?" Sam prompted. Bobby raised his brow again and took another swig from his coffee.

"I was saying, someone could have played us, sent us out here chasing our tails so we wouldn’t be where we needed to be. Where you brother needed us to be," Bobby said. "I mean, how much do you even know about that Jake fella?"

"There really was a fire six years ago," Sam said. Bobby let out a sigh.

"Boy, there's always a fire."

"No, I mean six years ago, while I was at school…" Sam had to stop, had to get himself under control. There was so much he didn’t know about that had happened in those four years. Dean and he had never talked about it.

Bobby looked intently at Sam for a moment, before jutting his jaw toward the journal laid open on the table between them. "Your daddy put that in his book?"

Sam nodded. "I just never realized… I mean, there's this entry… I always thought it was weird, you know? Said Dean went missing, that Dad had found him in a hospital pumped full of drugs and missing time. Dad wrote he needed to find out what did this to Dean, which I thought made no sense. Unless… they weren’t…"

"Weren't what?"

"Hunting together," Sam said, "I mean, I know Dean started hunting on his own after I left, I just… I thought they'd stayed together longer," he finished. Bobby just stared at him for a long moment. Not knowing what else to do, Sam drank his lukewarm coffee.

"Your daddy put anything else in there that might help us?" Bobby asked at last. Sam took a deep breath, nodded a little.

"He wrote Dean was… He was seeing things. Dad wasn’t sure if it was the drugs or something else, but he was seeing things."

"Things like little monkeys in pink bikinis things, or things like invisible people?" Bobby asked, and for a moment, Sam was too shocked by the mental image to answer. He shook his head.

"Mom," Sam said, then cleared his throat. "Dean said he'd seen Mom."

Bobby rubbed at his beard. "Well, shit."

"You think he really…?"

"I don’t know, Sam," Bobby said and patted Sam's arm lightly. "I don’t know." Sam swallowed hard. Bobby cleared his throat. "Any other pearls of wisdom John's left us with?"

Sam blinked the tears out of his eyes, moved the journal closer. "Just that… That others had been missing, too. That they were all found on the same day, and that there'd been a fire. He was never sure if the fire was connected, couldn’t prove anything. Of course, with what Dean'd said and the fire, he was sort of sidetracked into looking for the Demon again. He stopped digging too deep about other options," Sam finished.

"Well, we're just going to have to pick up where he left off," Bobby said, and smiled again at the waitress as she placed his order in front of him.

Dean closed his heavy eyes for a moment and rested his head against the wall. He had Jesse in his lap, the little boy's head resting against his chest and tiny fistfuls of Dean's shirt twisted in his little hands. Calming the kid down hadn’t been easy, but then Dean had always had a way with kids. The possibility that this might be his child… He couldn’t decide if he loved the idea or hated it with fervor.

Less than three months. That's all he had left before his deal came due. A kid would mean he was leaving something behind, that there would be proof he existed, even after he was gone. On the other hand, finding out now, when there was no time left on his ticket, when he couldn’t get to know his child, get to see him grow up, get to teach him things… Yeah, that kinda sounded like his sort of luck.

"Did you mean what you said?" Annie asked him, and Dean forced his eyes open to look at her. "Do you really think… Do you really believe they're gonna come for us?" She asked in a trembling voice.

"Yeah, I do," Dean said softly, his lip twitching a little when Jesse burrowed deeper into his chest. He stroked the kid's messy blond hair. "Thirteen people, that's not something you can just… People will be looking for us. My brother will be looking for us," Dean promised. Annie nodded a little, wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

"It's just… We're from all over. The police, they're not going to connect the dots. It's just one person from each place…" Annie went on.

"Yeah, well, my brother's smarter than the police. He'll find us," Dean said confidently. Annie nodded. Her hands were shaking as she sat down next to him, resting her back against the wall.

"I heard them… I heard what that… man said. He called you a number," Annie said. She tried to keep the quiver out of her voice, but failed. We'll see you soon, Eight. Dean turned to look at her. "I think… I think I remember that," she went on. "I've asked around, you've been here for six days."

"Well, not me, personally, but…"

Annie pulled up her sleeve and Dean frowned at the faded scar. "I'm number seven," she whispered, and another tear fell down her cheek. Dean clenched his jaw, rested his chin on top of Jesse's head.

"He sort of looks like her," Ben said, and Dean looked up at him. Ben crouched next to him. "He looks kinda like his mother. Like Molly. I think… I think he has my nose." Dean closed his eye, gave a slight nod. Not his kid then, and that still didn’t make him feel any better.

"You want to take him?" Dean suggested. And the only reason his voice sounded like that was because he was damn thirsty. Ben took a long look at the sleeping boy and shook his head.

"Nah, you're… you're better with him. I'm not… I'm not good with kids. I have two nephews, and neither of them like me," Ben said, pushing back a little.

"Never the same when it's your own kid," Dean said softly. Ben studied him for a moment.

"You got any kids?" He asked. It took Dean a long time to answer. He cleared his throat.

"No."

Ben nodded, sat down next to them, his knees drawn up, hands resting on top of them. "So what's our next move?" Ben asked at last. Dean's eyes were closed again. He needed to sleep, clear his head a little.

"I don’t know," he said softly, "but I'm working on it."

"Sam, I think I found something."

"Bobby?"

"That Jake fella, he said there were others involved, right? That this has something to do with what happened six years ago, right?"

"Bobby, what is it?"

"Well, this apartment building, it got burned pretty badly six years ago. Three casualties. I just talked to a couple fire department guys who were on scene. They said they'd seen some weird crap around, paintings on the floors and ceilings. Most of it didn’t survive by the time they got the fire under control."

"And you think this is it? You think that's got something to do with Dean?"

"This one guy, he took pictures of everything. For the insurance. Said if there was some freaking cult around, he wanted 'em out of his turf."

"And?"

"And what I'm looking at? This is some messed up crap, Sam. This is big league. Yellow Eyes big."

"You think it's the same demon that…"

"I don’t know, boy. But I got the pictures. You just meet me somewhere where we can get online."

"Sure thing, Bobby."

TBC

Previously: Where it all started >> 2 >> 3 >> 4 >> 5 >> 6 >> 7 >> Chapter 8

(BTW, the poll is totally stolen from tru_faith_lost and the name for the poll was suggested by

View Poll: Fishing poll

Thanks for reading!

[Bad username: just_ruth�) ]

OMFG!

2008-06-22T16:24:28Z

OMG.... I... can't even...

I FINALLY finished the Chapter From Hell!
Chapter 8 is with my awesome beta as we... uh... read? And I totally need to get completely wasted now. Only I don't drink. Or smoke. Or do anything fun. *pouts*
But I finished this chapter !!!!

xover bunny

2008-06-21T16:17:38Z

Yeah, my muse is still missing. I did manage to write about 300 words so... that's better than the past... uh... two weeks?

Anyway, I've got this craving for BtVS lately, so I've rewatched a few episodes and came up with a crossover story.

The teen!Chesters move to California, to Sunnydale, where Dean goes to school with Buffy & Co. Of course, being a hottie, Cordilia gets interested, and he's kinda a jock so he's with the in croud, not the Buffy croud. But of course, being Winchesters, John (and Dean) is interested in the extrememly high mortality rate in Sunnydale.
They start poking around, and Dean stumbles across all kinds of interesting books in the library. And overhears Buffy & Co. talking about vampires or any other supernatural thing. His interest immediately rises, but he laughs at the idea that vampires are real (cuz up until DMB John thought they were extinct).
Dean joins forces with Buffy & Co. John and Giles talk some shop about weapons and research, and Sam and Willow gets stuck with the actual research while Buffy and Dean are out there, searching, each thinking they have to protect the cluless other.
Of course, it turns out to be some other kind of nasty which Dean and Buffy take care of, and Sammy has a puppy geek crush on Willow.
Hee. I like that last part. I can see it now - Wee!Sammy following WiIllow around, carrying her books, being all adorkable while she totally tries to get Xander... hee. Poor wee!Sammy. *pets him*

SQUEEEEEEEE!

2008-06-20T07:34:51Z

You guuuuuuuuuuyyyysss!!!

Someone gave me another six months of my pretties!

(And I have a good idea who, but in case I'm wrong, I'm totally squishing you all and making and all you can e-eat cookie buffet)
Hugs to you all!

You guys rock!

sniffle

2008-06-19T04:20:21Z

June is nearly over. Which, normally, wouldn't make me sad, it's just... *sniffle sniffle* My icons are gonna be gone next month.*sniffle*
The wonderful tru_faith_lost has given me teh pretties (and I owe her every chocolate chip cookie I can find, cuz, pretty!), but the time's up. I don't have paypal or whatnot cuz, hey, not American, and I'm not giving any credit card info online cuz, hey, I don't trust anyone, AAAAAND, it's in USD, so =(
And now I have to choose between my pretties! *sniffle*

*sob*

And since I mentioned tru_faith_lost, I gotta say, she has the most awesome idea I've read so far about what happens post finale. Seriously, if TETIK knows what's best for him, he'd totally steal her idea. I'm not sure which story it's from (but feel free to read them all, she's a great writer), but it's awesome. Not gonna spoil it, but if you're interested, ask and I'll answer in the comments. Let's just say she takes care of what happens to Dean's body in the best way I can think of, AND closes another little plot hole. Go. Read. Give her cookies.

Hiatus

2008-06-13T06:58:53Z

Hi guys,
I think I'm going on hiatus for a couple of weeks, which means no new chapters for at least a couple of weeks. The (very) little I managed to write the past couple of weeks if pure crap and there's no way I'm posting that, so until my muse decides to play nice (or play at all...), I'm gonna try to air out my head a little and not think of the story. Hopefully that'll help.
Sorry for the wait, but I hope it'll pay off.

I really need to get my @$$ kicked...

2008-06-07T08:46:04Z

3 weeks!
I've been struggling with this chapter for 3 weeks now!
And the thing is, I know exactly what I want to happen in this chapter, and have no idea what happens afterwards, but for some reason, THIS chapter is just so damn hard to write.
I KNOW what I want, but the characters just won't talk for me. I open the file, stare at what I've got, and close it. I can't even get 1 word, not to mention 600 a day...
*sigh*
Probably gonna take some more time... sorry 'bout that...