#but it doesn't learn mean look until fucking SIXTY?????
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god FUCKING damn it i accidentally closed my game without saving i'm going to fucking kill myself
#for some reason after i healed at the pokemon center i just shut off the game#i don't fucking know#i was planning on healing and saving and then quitting#because i'm TIRED and i have so much shit to do before bed!!!#and i have to wake up early tomorrow for my awful fucking job!!!#and my brain just skipped a step and it was the only important one god DAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!!#it was like a whole hour i caught two pokémon that i actually needed and was grinding up my stupid ass shitty sableye#sableye is fucking awful by the way it can't handle any sort of a hit#but it doesn't learn mean look until fucking SIXTY?????#that entire time i was grinding i only got two levels#i'm so fucking miserable i hate my life
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DAYLIGHT
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Pairing: Leigh Shaw x female reader
Summary: 'Sunflower' prequel. Read that first, if you want.
You and the love of your life meet for the first time, you don't know everything that awaits you. Leigh Shaw is a tropical storm.
This is also part of a request, thank you sweet anon.
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warnings: ansgt, mentions of death, alcoholism.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPART I
Her gaze was lost on the ceiling, perhaps for twenty minutes until the alarm went off. The dark circles under her eyes showed how much it was difficult for her to sleep lately.
Y/N sighed heavily.
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She got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to take a nice hot shower. Some melancholic eyes were reflected in the mirror, she watched the scars on her body while she undressed.
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Didn't even feel like making breakfast, she just left the apartment and walked to the nearest coffee shop.
Waited patiently in line until she could chat with the barista for a moment while waited for a large latte and a delicious bagel.
She took her time finishing it, listening to some music through her headphones for half an hour until she decided to leave.
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Even though the barista gave Y/N her number, it didn't matter too much. She just got back on her Iron 883 and drove to the Los Angeles Fire Department, Station 12.
Some of her coworkers greeted her, surprised and happy to see her again. Everyone except her boss, who turned to see her quite surprised.
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“What did I tell you?” The man in his sixties grunted, shaking his head as he signed some papers.
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“I have to go back to work.” Y/N sighed, ready to fight for what she wanted this time. “I've already learned whatever lesson you're giving me.”
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All her life she dreamed of being a firefighter, of being able to help people and being in that very place where she was standing. Years of preparation, mental and physical sacrifice, her heart belonged to that place, how could she not be there?
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“You can’t do it unless-” He was going to repeat the usual but Y/N cut him off.
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“Cut the crap, chief.”
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“Y/N.” He scolded her, looking up. With a single look it was enough for Y/N to know that she fucked it up. She swallowed. “I have told you many times, you have to go to the meetings or I can't let you come back.”
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“It's stupid!” Y/N raised her voice, so annoyed. “I don't need those stupid meetings, what I need is to get back to work.”
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“Y/N, I know what it's like to deal with loss. Trust me, I've worked here my whole fucking life.”
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“Chief, please…”
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“Tonight. Grief support group, Y/L/N. I need you SOBER and better than this. Last chance.” Her boss watched her and didn't back down even a step.
She knew perfectly well that those were the rules and it was necessary.
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If she wanted to get back to her job, her life, she had to do what she had to do to earn it. Life is about one sacrifice after another, after all.
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“FUCK!” was heard in that place when Y/N left the place in a hurry, completely furious.
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“So… that was what happened.” That young man explained, surrounded by the group of people. He seemed quite sad but felt better when he noticed that everyone was listening to him, not ignoring his pain.
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“Thanks for share with us.” They all said, surprising Y/N, who awkwardly joined in.
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“I'm glad you could express that to us, James.” The moderator of the group, Janet, smiled kindly, turning to see the new person joining them today. “Today someone joins us and it's always good to welcome you. Do you want to introduce yourself?”
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“Umh… I’m not-” Y/N stammered awkwardly, feeling all eyes on her. Her heart raced, she could feel it. The firefighter hated being the center of attention, but she had to do this if she wanted to go back to the Station.
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“My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I'm not from Los Angeles… I mean, I wasn't born here, but I live here in L.A” She cleared her throat somewhat nervously, settling in the chair. “My job asks me to do it, and- and I love my job. And it doesn't bother me, I got used to this nice place.”
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“Even if it's a bit hot.” She teased, making some laugh. “I… umh-”
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They all expected to know more, they seemed like wild animals waiting for a part of the prey. Or at least that was how she saw it.
Silence flooded the place, Y/N remained thoughtful for a moment. Her gaze was lost somewhere in the room, but she just couldn't hear or say anything.
Just relive that memory, so tragic.
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And despite the fact that she wanted to keep talking, Y/N was unable to continue. As if anguish took her by the neck, she just frowned and shook her head.
Swallowing hard, the dark-haired woman just listened to the testimonies of each person who wanted to open up and express the pain they felt.
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When she was asked again if she wanted to say something else, Y/N just shook her head slowly and remained silent. It was typical, especially for someone attending for the first time.
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As soon as that meeting ended, Y/N approached the coffee table in that room so she could pour herself some nice steaming cup and run away as soon as she had the chance. Y/N didn’t want to look so desperate or they would discover the truth. She was just using this meeting to go back the job.
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After having a steaming cup of coffee, she turned ready to leave but ended up colliding with a brown-haired woman with lovely but melancholy green eyes. Though thanks to her skills, didn’t spill even a single drop of coffee.
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“Oh, I’m sorry.” The girl apologized, muttering something a bit embarrassed but didn’t care much either. Something that caught Y/N’s attention, completely out of this world.
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The woman in front of her, a downcast gaze looking at her phone, atractive and charming features.
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“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t saw you…” Y/N mumbled softly, noticing how the woman tucked one of her strands of hair behind her ear.
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Feeling completely stunned by the beauty. Even with a half-done bun and hoodies, she was… different. Interesting. Hot as fuck, yes, but… gorgeous. Those huge green eyes caught her attention, a somewhat adorable nose and the fact that she was shorter than her.
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“Hi… I’m Y/N .” Said the taller woman finally, holding out her hand so they could shake it. That gesture made the green eyed stranger smile, maybe surprised by her desire to socialize.
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“I’m Leigh.”
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“Nice to meet you, Leigh.” Y/N smiled widely, nodding a bit. Something that Leigh thought was adorable. A big dork, again. “Sorry, I wanted some coffee.”
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“And I wanted a donut, although the ones here aren’t so good tho…” Leigh whispered, wrinkling her nose, making Y/N’s heart to start pounding faster. “You’re new here. I haven’t seen you before, welcome.”
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Y/N swallowed hard again, both began to walk together towards the exit. She just nodded, giving Leigh a chance to speak again.
Maybe the brunette might socialize a bit, her mother and Jules always insisted so much. Surely would later regret it later.
Or maybe not.
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“I understand the feeling, it’s kind of intimidating.” Leigh shrugged.
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“Yeah… it’s something… it makes you feel exposed.” Y/N babbled then opened the door for Leigh to go through first. They both talked for a while until Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. “Umh… Do you promise that if I tell you something you won’t get mad?”
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“Promise.” Leigh smiled and raised her hand, it was incredible how they barely knew each other and they got along, even being quite friendly with that stranger.
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“This isn’t the AA group by any chance, is it?” Y/N bit her bottom lip to hide a guilty and somewhat regretful smile.
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“No, it’s not…that’s Wednesday at 6 pm.” Leigh frowned, somewhat amused. Of course she knew because Jules attended every Wednesday.
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“Yeah… I realized that when everyone started talking and I… was embarrassed to leave. When I started listening to everyone talk about their losses, I felt really bad about it. I mean, I came to talk about how I couldn’t feel comfortable on birthdays or Christmas…”
She lied, again. It was so much better than having to explain, she wasn't going back to that damn meeting anyway. She would tell her boss that she did go, present evidence, and then goodbye.
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And although that would surely end up annoying Leigh so bad, and she would surely get mad for feeling so exposed by telling her story to someone who wasn’t even there for it, Y/N smiled when Leigh started laughing.
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It wasn’t a fake laugh, it was a pretty genuine laugh.
And Y/N loved it.
Y/N completely fell in love with it.
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“It would be worse if you said ‘I only came here for coffee’.” Leigh joked. “Hi, I’m Y/N and I just came here for coffee and to see your sad mopey faces…”
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Y/N laughed somewhat surprised, glad that the brunette didn’t get mad at her.
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“Maybe I do, the anguish revitalizes me and makes me younger. In fact, I am about fifty-two years old.” Y/N continued, walking together out of that building. Without even thinking about it, both were walking side by side, keeping each other company through the streets of Los Angeles. She took a sip from her cup but the coffee was cold. “This isn’t the best coffee tho, but it’s not that bad either…”
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Leigh thought for a moment, the sound of cars and footsteps made her lose herself. She strangely felt comfortable with a stranger she hadn’t known more than a few minutes ago. How many times that happened in her whole life?
Maybe just one.
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“Would you like to go to a place where both things are better? Coffee and donuts.” Leigh finally asked as she snatched the coffee out of her hand and tossed it into the nearest trash can.
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Surprised at that, Y/N simply nodded and followed Leigh who seemed to know a good coffee place that was open 24 hours.
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“So…” Y/N settled into her seat while she put two tablespoons of sugar in her coffee. “How long have you been in the group?”
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“A year? I think so…” Leigh wrinkled her nose. “It’s not so bad, I know it's hard to start, but then... it helps.”
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Does it? Well, she wasn't going to deny that it helped to be able to share the pain with people who understand that too. Although at first she refused a lot.
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“They seem like a pretty nice group of people.” Y/N nodded slowly. “Why are you there?”
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Perhaps that question was more direct than expected, Y/N cursed herself. Silence for a moment was an answer enough.
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“Sorry, I was too… you know. I… I'm not used to socializing yet.”
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“It’s okay… I lost my husband a year ago.” Leigh set her coffee cup on the table and licked her lips. “It was quite a difficult time for me.”
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“I’m sorry.” She sighed, seeing how Leigh just nodded, surely tired of hearing those words over and over again. 'Im sorry, sorry for your loss'. That’s exhausting.
For a year, each person who crosses your path repeating how sorry they are. For what? They didn't kill Matt.
He did.
Or the cliff, whatever.
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“I wasn't looking just for the AA meeting.” Y/N added, opening up to someone else for the first time. “I mean, I was too. I needed to go to one, but also… I did... I did lose someone. Two.”
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Y/N cleared her throat, holding that cup with her hands. “It's more complicated than it seems.”
She lowered her gaze.
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“I see.” Leigh muttered. She didn't know what to say, Leigh wasn't the most talkative person in the world either. But the woman seemed nice, ever since she stopped talking to Becca it had been hard to socialize.
Well, it always was.
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“I try to fool myself and people that I don't need it. I don't need to get over that loss because I already did, I mean, that's it, they’re dead but…” The dark-haired woman narrowed her eyes. “I didn't.”
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Leigh tried to smile but it just seems like an awkward expression, failing completely. She just stretched out her hand to squeeze that stranger's hand and then leaned back in her seat.
The song from the radio seemed to help with the long silence.
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“What’s the most weird or embarrassing song on your playlist?” Y/N finally broke the silence, an utterly bold move.
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“What?” Leigh frowned without understanding, maybe a smiling a bit because of how random that was.
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“Come on, are you afraid that I'll laugh?” Y/N challenged her, raising an eyebrow and smiling mischievously. “What's your guilty pleasure, Leigh Shaw?” She read the name tag on the brunette's jacket.
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Far from bothering her, Leigh gladly accepted the challenge.
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“Barbie Girl by Aqua.” Leigh smiled victoriously. “You?”
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“I never told you that I would tell you.” She teased, drinking her latte. “The baby shark song.”
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“Come on!” Leigh giggled.
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“Spice Up Your Life by Spice Girls. Oh, I love it.” Y/N shrugged and drank some of her coffee. “What Taylor Swift era are you in if you had to pick one?”
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“Oh, I don’t like Taylor Swift.” Leigh said trying to look disinterested but seeing Y/N's look, she just laughed. “Just kidding. Umh… I think I’m… Reputation?”
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“Yeah, you totally look like Rep.” Y/N nodded slowly. “If you were an animal what would you be?”
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“I- I don’t know.” The brunette licked her lips after finishing her coffee. “Umh… maybe a… a bird. I could fly away, that's it.” She shrugged. “What about you?”
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“I would be a panda.” Y/N leaned back in her seat, narrowing her eyes as if she had made the best decision of her life, trying to make her laugh. And she did it.
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“Cute and fat. Nice.”
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“And a loner, and really pissed off. Pandas look cute but they are always angry.”
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"It must be the huge dark circles that don't let us see them."
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And though she didn't want to admit it, Leigh seemed to be having a good time with this woman. Maybe a bit slow at first but Y/N seemed cool, and it might help if she knows someone in the grief group.
Between giggles and some weird but interesting questions, they both spent the time trying to get to know each other. And time goes by fast when you feel at ease.
Leigh told her that she was a writer, working on a book for some time but hadn't known how to continue.
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Y/N told her that she was having a 'break' from her job, as if her wounded ego wouldn't let her reveal that she wasn't allowed back unless she took a step away from alcoholism, self-hatred and pain.
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“Hey, Leigh… Umh… Do you know what is white, black, white, black, black and white?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, hoping Leigh would fall for it.
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“Mmm, no.” Leigh narrowed her eyes. “Piano keys?”
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“A panda falling down the stairs.” Y/N bit her lower lip to keep from laughing at how stupid that joke sounded.
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Despite the fact that that joke was pretty bad, Leigh began to laugh little by little, shaking her head. They both burst out laughing; the connection between the two of them had been instant and the warmth of the moment felt so genuine.
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Finally someone was bursting her bubble in an unexpected way and it terrified her. Suddenly Leigh felt a deep pang in her chest. Her eyes filled with tears for a second, remembering the first time she met Matt.
What was she doing? What was she doing in that place?
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The smile on Leigh's lips faded so quickly that it made Y/N's heart skip a beat. Did she say something wrong maybe?
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“Sorry, I-I've to go.” Leigh babbled getting up from her chair and taking her jacket.
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Surprised -and maybe a bit sad-, Y/N just nodded quickly.
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“Of course, yeah.”
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She got up and stood in front of the brunette, looking into her green eyes for a moment. They didn't know what to say, just feeling that connection and having to cut it off was so… sad.
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“It was nice to meet you.” Leigh smiled nervously and grabbed her bag, turning to walk towards the door. “See you in the group next week.”
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“See you, Shaw.” Y/N murmured, sitting back in the chair and looking thoughtful as she looked at her empty cup. This was not what she expected, not at all.
Was she doing something wrong? Had she gone too far? She'd just made her laugh! Leigh was beautiful but she wasn't trying to… push her.
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What was she going to do there anyway? Y/N took her keys and her jacket and left the café, to go back home before it was late.
Maybe tomorrow would be a different day.
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But when she returned home, loneliness invaded her completely. Like a dark misterious being, caught her i its cloak, drowning her in misery. That desolate apartment made Y/N’s heart slowly sink.
Y/N took a deep breath and walked to the fridge, seeing only thing she had was beer cans and some old food.
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Y/N took the beer to the sink, looking at them for a moment.
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What to do? What to feel? She needed to drown all those negative feelings inside of her, and the only way to numb them was... that.
But unlike other heartbreaking nights, now there was something else on her mind. Something that aroused her interest, even if she didn't know it yet.
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Y/N took the beers and one by one poured them into the sink, letting them go. Part of her said no, leave some, at least one in case someone ever came along or something. Or drink just one and throw everything Or perhaps better drink one and throw away all the rest, one more. The last one.
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She tilted her head to see the photograph on the nearest cabinet, an adorable photograph of her and two other women, hugging in front of the beach. One was redhead and the other brunette. The three of them laughed, making funny faces.
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Y/N remembered the time Nat and Jules invited her to go to the beach that weekend, although Y/N refused saying that they should 'make it a romantic trip', they just wanted to spend time with her.
That weekend they spent one of the best days of her life, ending it with that photograph in a beautiful sunset in front of the beach.
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This is what they would have wanted.
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Sighing, Y/N dropped the rest of the beers and took the phone to order something to eat, other than a piece of cheese and bread.
And although she didn't want to think about it, that night Y/N lay in bed thinking about that woman, and that perhaps it wouldn't be bad to visit the group again next week.
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“Anyone else want to share something with us?”
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“Thomas?” Janet asked but the man just shook his head, he wasn't ready to do it. Now the gaze of Janet fell on her.
Y/N settled into her seat, surely Janet noticed how she moved her leg anxiously.
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“Y/N? Would you like to tell us something?” Her voice was so warm that Y/N had to stop herelf from telling her to fuck off for it.
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It had been quite a difficult week. Y/N believed that by throw away every bottle and presenting a paper that said that she attended ONE meeting, her boss was going to accept it, but it wasn’t like that at all.
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Swallowing, she just tilted her gaze. “I’m angry.”
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“Being angry is good, it's good to allow ourselves positive but also negative feelings.” Janet nodded, and the others around her did the same. All those looks on her, just made it feel like some kind of experiment.
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“I’m so angry. Because I want to go back to my life, to my work and I have to be here.” She let out again, not knowing why she was saying all that. Y/N just knew that every word was escaping from her mouth and couldn't control it.
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Everyone around her listened attentively, including Leigh, who was in front of her with a coffee in her hand.
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“Everyone looking at me like I'm a fucking guinea pig or something. Okay, wanna know? Let's see... I lost my whole life thanks to alcoholism.” Y/N frowned, thinking how far she had come. How is it that everything changed so much from one moment to the next? “And I fell into alcoholism because I lost my sister and my best friend at the same time. Also my parents treated me like shit.”
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Leigh, who was staring at her, felt a little sorry, understanding the woman a bit more now. Everyone there did it, in their own way, everyone suffered an irreparable loss but slowly they tried to heal.
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“My sister died a short time ago. Sh- she wasn't my biological sister, but she was my sister.” Y/N sighed deeply, entering a rather complicated field. Her lip twitched. “As I said, a year ago.”
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Everyone listened carefully and said nothing, when someone opened up like that it was important that they feel heard.
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“Julia.” Y/N swallowed at the thought of her best friend, her sister. “That was her name, we called her Jules, she was wonderful. A lovely human being, she had a lovely wife too. They died… and I'm here.”
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That name made Leigh look at her, having her full attention. As if fate somehow played a trick on them.
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“We were together since elementary school, always… She was there for me more than anyone.” You could tell that talking about it hurt deeply, Y/N swallowed and narrowed her eyes several times to keep from crying. “Even when I said that my dream was to be a firefighter, she decided to come along and support me. Although she chose to be a paramedic, so we could be together.”
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Y/N felt her lips tremble and how those eyes filled with tears but she tried to stay strong because she couldn't cry in front of all those people, could she? Come on.
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“There was a gas leak in a building... then there was a big explosion. We were there.” Tears began to fall but she was too exhausted to wipe them away or hide them. “She and her wife Nat died… They died and I’m here.”
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She hated having to be the center of attention, feeling like an 'attention whore' or something. But once she started expressing what she felt, she couldn't stop. Because she no longer had anyone to talk to.
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“I’m still here and I sometimes I hate it.” She sniffled. "If we were a team… why didn't they take me too?"
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“I spent so much time thinking that… that maybe I'm just crazy. That maybe she's not gone. She’ll come around the corner any second, smiling at me.” Y/N smiled at the memory that came to mind. “Ma- Making fun of how I usually breathe through my mouth when I eat, she says I look like a fish out of water.”
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Y/N laughed through tears.
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“Since that day my head has not stopped telling me that it is better to get away from everyone before they abandon me.”
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She felt a soft hand resting on her shoulder and for a moment she thought about leaving, but seeing that the old lady only wanted to comfort her, Y/N just let it happen.
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“And I'm mad at myself and everyone.” Y/N looked down. “Especially my boss who won't let me go back to work and be able to save people. That’s it.”
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“Thank you, Y/N. For your sacrifice and for sharing this with us.” Janet said and they all repeated again, nodding.
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“It is important to be able to express what we feel in order to move forward.” Janet smiled kindly. “Denial and anger are two huge steps towards acceptance.”
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Sighing deeply and managing to calm down, Y/N nodded and dried her tears with a tissue that the kind old lady offered her, making the woman smile a bit.
After the group finished, Y/N left the place feeling the load on her back slightly lessen. Not much, but enough to take the first step out of darkness.
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She noticed how Leigh waited, sitting on the stairs. Scrolling down her phone.
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“Hey.” The brunette stood up when she saw her, smiling kindly.
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“Hey, Shaw.” Y/N stood next to her, her heart beats faster but she told herself that it was surely because she was crying before. “Did you run out of gasoline?”
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“No, I just took an Uber today, I didn't feel like driving.” Leigh wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms, as she began to walk with Y/N. “I'm glad you could express what you feel.”
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“Sure.” Y/N smirked, while playing with the keys of her motorcycle. “Crying like a child in front of a group of people I don't know isn't too bad.”
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“But do you feel better?” Leigh arched an eyebrow.
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They stopped when Y/N reached her motorcycle and she got on it. “Yeah…”
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“Oh, this is yours?” Leigh pointed at the motorcycle in surprise. “I thought it was from some bearded drunk old man who mistook this place for a biker bar.”
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The brunette joked and within seconds she realized what she just said, but Y/N just bit her lower lip trying not to laugh.
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“Sorry, too soon for someone recovering from… alcoholism. Fuck.” Leigh had always been too direct and perhaps a little cruel at times, even if she didn't want to.
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Y/N finally laughed at that joke, holding the helmet in her hands. “It’s okay, it wasn’t that bad. I’m not a baby.”
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“Good then.” Leigh turned to walk away but stopped to say something else. “Y/N?”
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“Yeah?” She looked up as she started the bike and made it roar.
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“How can you want to save someone if you don't do something to save yourself?”
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Perhaps one of the best questions she had ever heard.
Leigh raised an eyebrow and smiled victoriously.
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“What are you some kind of cheap shrink or something?” Y/N growled.
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Leigh shrugged. “I have an advice column on a website. That must give me some kind of value to my words, right?”
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Y/N gave a small laugh. “Yeah, it shows.”
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Sighing deeply, Y/N handed the helmet to the brunette who looked at her blankly.
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“Come on, sunflower.” Y/N made the bike roar, but Leigh still didn't move. That nickname made her narrow her eyes, not knowing how to take it. “I'll take you home, okay?”
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“I'm not going to get on that.” Leigh rolled her eyes, she was definitely not going to get on a bike with a stranger -not so stranger- and much less at night. What was she? One of those bitches from Grand Theft Auto?
ㅤㅤㅤ
“Come on! It's dark and the Ubers will take time, plus you could get any psycho here.”
ㅤㅤㅤ
Sighing in defeat, Leigh snatched the helmet from her hands in complete annoyance. Y/N helped and when she was ready, she drove through the city to the brunette's house.
It wasn't too far from her house, so that wasn't too bad.
Once they arrived, Leigh hurried to get off the motorcycle and removed her helmet, afraid someone would see her. Especially her nosy mother or sister.
ㅤㅤㅤ
“Thank you.” Leigh said quickly, arranging her hair a bit.
ㅤㅤㅤ
“You are welcome.” The dark-haired woman smiled and nodded. “Not bad for a biker.”
ㅤㅤㅤ
But far from laughing, Leigh just rolled her eyes and then saw how Y/N started her motorcycle again, ready to go.
ㅤㅤㅤ
“Why?” the brunette asked, making Y/N to look at her, confused.
ㅤㅤㅤ
“Why what?”
ㅤㅤㅤ
“Why did you call me sunflower?” She frowned blankly. She had to know or her doubt would eat her up all week.
ㅤㅤㅤ
But this time, the one who smiled victoriously was Y/N.
ㅤㅤㅤ
“See you next week, Shaw.” She just looked straight ahead and drove away from that house, leaving Leigh behind.
🌼 cute people i'm gonna tag here: 🌼 @oh-thats-cute - @katiemay-025 - @imnotasuperhero - @marvelogic
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For @mutantmanifesto - I hope you weren't kidding about liking the zombie AU! Happy birthday my friend, here's some NSFW luztoye.
--
Joe hears him coming up the stairs long before he reaches the doorway to their bedroom. He thinks George does it on purpose, these days - makes enough noise that Joe has plenty of forewarning. He doesn't exactly know why, but he guesses it has something to do with his own propensity for being on his own since the bite.
You won't be alone in a second, those footsteps say. Put your sad shit away.
Which is uncharitable, probably. (Definitely.) But the thought fits itself into place anyway and won't be dislodged.
"Hey." George pushes open the mostly-closed door and spots Joe sitting on the bed. He'd been doing the physio the Doc had told him to try, but it's exhausting and frustrating and sometimes he doesn't have it in him to finish.
Sometimes he sits by himself, not bored or upset or anything else, just - foggy. Just gazing into space. George never knows what to do with that, so Joe pretends he hasn't been doing it.
"Hey," he replies. "Just finishing my stretching."
George purposefully closes the door behind him and ambles closer, overly casual. "How's that going?"
"It's fine."
"Fine, huh." It's a game they play at this point, Joe saying nothing that matters and George playing along. Joe knows it's destroying them. He can't tell if George does, too. Neither of them do anything about it, and the game continues. "That's good. You, uh. Want to come down to dinner?"
Joe shakes his head. "I'll come get something later." When there's no one around.
George regards him for a moment. He never used to hang back like this. Joe wishes he would cut it out, but you can't call out someone else's reaction unless you want them to call out yours. "Can we talk for a second?"
Joe takes a breath. "About what?"
George has one of those faces not cut out for this kind of conversation. Joe keeps expecting him to smile, even when it doesn't make sense. "Kind of feel like we hit a wall, Joe."
Joe eyes him, and then drops his gaze to the bedspread. "Yeah."
"I know it's not me," George says. "At least, I think it's not me - that you're sick of me, I mean." He hesitates. "You can tell me if I'm wildly misinterpreting and you want me to fuck off."
"It's not you," Joe grinds out.
"Yeah, good. That's good." There's the smile Joe had been expecting. There's more relief in it than he'd like there to be. "I thought maybe... I don't know. Maybe it's stupid. But I thought we could try something."
Joe doesn't know what that means, but he has an inkling of where it's going. "George."
"I know you don't want me to touch you." The words sting, even though there's nothing unkind in George's tone. Joe hadn't articulated as much to himself, but the dread that rose up every time George reached for him over the past little while is familiar, a bitter taste in the back of his throat.
"Not just you," he rasps, which is pitifully not enough, but he needs George to know that it's not him specifically that makes Joe nauseous at the idea of someone learning his body the way it is now.
"Well, I figured you didn't have a line-up of compact but incredibly charming radio techs coming by while I wasn't here," George says, with that crinkle of laughter at the corner of his eyes that is one of Joe's favourite things in the world.
He thinks about reaching for him, but can't make himself do it. "Thought I'd handle something like this better than I am," he admits.
"I don't think any of us know how we'd handle weapons-grade terrible shit happening to us until it happens," George tells him. "Can you imagine me? I'd be insufferable. A hundred and sixty jokes a minute, at least."
"You think you could double it?" Joe asks. "Without losing quality?"
George looks so deeply pleased that Joe had joked with him that it cracks him open a little, makes him easier to read - makes the exhaustion more plain on his face. "If I'm lucky, we'll never find out."
Joe hesitates. He doesn't want to do ask the question, but he also knows that there's nothing to be gained by kicking the can down the road. He can't guarantee that things will get better in a week, or two weeks, or a month, and he's never been someone who avoids the difficult things. "What's your something that you want to try?"
"I thought..." George sniffs, wrinkling his nose. There's that over-casualness again. "Would you just want to watch?"
Joe freezes. "Watch?" he echoes. The back of his neck feels hot.
"Yeah. You know..." The two of them are very different in some ways, but very alike in others. George looks uncomfortable to be saying this, and Joe recognizes that he would probably rather chew his arm off than get through the words. The fact that he's doing it anyway means he thinks it's important. "It's been almost three weeks since we sprung you from the hospital, and it's been pretty quiet on the intimacy front."
It's been dead silent, actually. Joe lets him hold his hand sometimes, but they inevitably wake up on the far side of the bed from each other. Joe's not even sure they've kissed since he woke up from his surgery, if that's what you'd call the butchery the Doc had had to figure out on the fly to save his life.
"I..." He swallows. Fuck me. He's not a coward. Neither of them are. If George is putting the effort in, so can he. "Yeah. That might be - okay."
George's shoulders go heavy with relief. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Joe has never just watched before, and he's not about to ask whether George has ever jerked off for an audience. He figures maybe it's better if they both pretend that they know what they're doing, so he reaches behind him to readjust the pillow and eases himself back to sit against the headboard, in that tentative way he does everything now that his leg fucking kills if he so much as jogs it.
George watches him get settled, something a little hungry in his eyes, and then slowly climbs to his feet. There's no preamble, no putting on a show as he unbuttons his jeans, unzips, and pushes them down. Joe's glad for that; the unbearable awkwardness in being the person having a show put on for them aside, in this situation where this is happening because Joe can't participate, not because either of them specifically thought this would be hot, he doesn't want it to feel fake, like a performance.
"There are a lot of lights on here," George jokes, sitting back down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear now.
"I don't remember you getting stage fright," Joe returns.
George grins. "You're right. I changed my mind. Get me a spotlight."
Joe doesn't laugh. "Take your shirt off," he suggests.
George gets that hungry look again so fast that Joe realizes it's been there since earlier, lurking behind the other things. He reaches behind his head and hauls that t-shirt off in one motion, tossing it onto the bed behind him.
Joe has seen him get undressed for bed in the past few weeks, of course, but this is not that, and the way Joe looks at him seems to give George the spur-on he needs to palm himself lightly through his boxers. Joe doesn't say anything, both of them zeroed in on George's hand, and the latter doesn't hesitate, pushing it under his waistband.
The outline in his underwear, the movement that takes shape beneath, makes it clear when he has his fingers wrapped around himself in the way he likes. Joe's throat goes dry at that soft sound George makes, almost pained, like it's been a little while.
"Let me see," he murmurs.
"Yeah?" George's hand is already moving smoothly, rhythmically, under that dark fabric, Joe's eyes on it and George's eyes on him. When he tugs his waistband down a little with his other hand so that he can pull himself free, Joe swallows at the way he's already half-hard, those fingers wrapped so securely around himself, specific and practiced, from all the years he's done this alone, all the times he had figured out how to get himself off as efficiently as possible.
"You want to help me out?" George asks, nodding at the drawer next to the bed, and Joe leans over without taking his eyes off him. He tosses the lube, and George knocks it down with his free hand, fetching it up off the duvet and flipping it open in one motion. He lets go of himself long enough to squirt a haphazard amount into his palm, and then he's slicking himself down, that hand twisting slowly.
"You look good," Joe manages, almost on a delay; he'd been so focused that it almost surprises him to hear his own voice. He adjusts himself a little awkwardly - this a problem he probably should have foreseen, but he's gotten himself accustomed to not feeling much of anything lately - and George is good enough not to mention it.
"I got good at doing this quick, out there," George says, bracing himself back on one palm so that Joe can see better, fixing those eyes on his face as if to make sure he's watching.
As if Joe could look anywhere else.
"Not like this," Joe remarks.
"Nope." George smooths his thumb over the head of his cock, making his own voice falter for just a second. "Sort of forgot I could take my time."
"You ever do anything else?" Joe asks.
"What, like finger myself?" George asks it like it won't make Joe's hands twitch, and he smiles slowly when it does. "Maybe once or twice. Not as good as someone else doing it for you, though."
If Joe could touch him without George touching him, he would. It makes him curl his fingers into fists in his lap.
"I want to," he rasps.
"I know." George's pace has picked up a little, his eyes gone darker.
"I wish..." He swallows around it, that ache of want that he can't act on.
"Tell me."
It hangs in the air between them, until Joe makes himself speak.
"I want you like that first time."
George ducks his head with a quiet fuck. "Yeah," he murmurs. "That was a good one."
It hadn't taken long - in fact, it had been the night George had come to the compound for the first time, after Joe had found him in the mall. Both of them were starved for it; Joe had had him up against the wall the moment they were alone, George urging him on with a grin and that big mouth of his.
"You wanted it so damn bad," Joe murmurs, and George has to sit up a little straighter, renewing his grip on himself.
"Not just me."
"Nah, not just you." Joe watches him sweep at precum with his thumb, dragging it down the shaft. He can't help but grind his own hand down onto himself through his jeans, trying to get enough friction to feel relief.
"I did fuckin' want it, though." George sounds less steady than before. "The second I saw you. Tall, dark, and built like you could put me through a wall. My favourite."
"Like I couldn't tell."
George spares him a glance, mischievous. "I would've let you fuck me in that RadioShack if I hadn't come too far to get my brain eaten over some good-looking stranger who didn't shoot me on sight."
"Only you would talk about brain eating right now," Joe mutters, prompting George to grin and then squeeze his eyes shut as his own hand briefly loses rhythm. He picks it back up, faster than before.
"Hey, Joe?" The tendons in his forearm stand out, and he's focused down on himself now; Joe takes advantage of it, to watch without being watched, to let himself want.
"Yeah, gorgeous."
"God. No fucking fair." George almost chokes it out. "You know how much I like that."
Joe does know, as it happens. "What were you going to tell me?"
George doesn't say anything for a moment, the only sound the movement of his hand. "Say it again," he manages at last, like he's straining to coordinate his thoughts. "That you want me like that first time."
"I want you like every time," Joe says hoarsely. "God, George. I always want you."
George gasps, a seam of sound in the bottom of it, and then he comes. His body curves around his hand, and he ignores the splash up his stomach and chest, maybe doesn't even notice, tugging himself through it.
When it's over, he gently unwraps his fingers and leans back, bracing himself on his elbows, still breathing too fast. Joe hesitates, and then reaches out.
George looks at his hand, then up at his face. "You want me to...?"
"No," Joe says. He's not ready for that yet. "I just - come here."
George nods, sitting up and tucking himself back into his underwear before he reaches for his shirt.
"Here," Joe says, and George passes it to him, crawling obligingly up to kneel next to him so that Joe can wipe him clean. When it's done, George sits against the headboard next to him, and Joe takes his hand.
The silence is much, much easier than before.
George glances his way. "That okay?"
Joe nods. "I - yeah."
George tightens his grip for a moment, warm. "Okay."
Joe is so damn grateful they're good at first times.
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How the Bartlet Administration Reacts to COVID-19
Abbey: is not taking any chances. After losing the fight to get the President to retreat to the farm or Camp David, she gets him to agree to limit himself to the oval office and the residence, with as few in person meetings as possible. Even before they’ve pulled together a White House task force, she’s made sure that everything is being disinfected and that her entire schedule is either canceled or made virtual. Her staff is the first to be working from home (and oh boy does she scold if she finds out any of them did something she thinks is foolish), with most of the rest of the White House staff following shortly after. She makes it her mission to do PSAs on what people should be doing and even does a virtual Sesame Street collaboration to teach kids how to wash their hands.
Zoey: Is not super pleased to be stuck in the Residence 24/7. She’s doing classes from her bedroom, so yay to not having to get out of bed early, but she can tell people are super disappointed that her camera is set up so that she has only a blank wall behind her [it turns out the secret service is very touchy about where you take video calls]. She also gets officially hired and given a security clearance for the sole fact that she’s one of the only people allowed to be near her dad who is tech-literate. She ends up doing some of her reading on the couch in his office so that she's on hand for when he's supposed to be skyping with the senior staff and can't figure out what link to click. She spends a lot of time worrying about Ellie, who helping do research about the virus, and texting her friends.
The President: is not happy to be closed up away from people. He also thinks that Abbey is overreacting where he's concerned. He misses actually getting to be around the younger staff. He and Zoey do a cooking from home video at C.J.'s suggestion, so that the country can see he's alive and to encourage people to not go out. They make chili and fight over whether it needs more cumin or oregano while Abbey records it and pipes in from behind the camera. The country is treated to a history of chili and a diplomatic incident nearly happens because apparently Mexicans deny having any association with it, even though most food historians say it has Mexican roots. The flaming debate doesn't stop a second episode at Thanksgiving where the country is treated to the history of the yam and all the secret spices that go into the President's stuffing. A large portion of the country gives him flack for putting Oysters in his stuffing. [In a small bedroom in an Illinois apartment a woman finally figures out why Joe Bethersonsen sounded so familiar.]
Leo: moved into the Residence because there was no way he was going to talk the President off ledges via skype for however long this lasted. He can only do so much. Zoey helps him learn to use Skype and he finds himself missing Margaret desperately even when he spends most of the day with a computer dedicated to having her on Skype so he can turn to it and ask her questions. She insists he get exercise and eat healthy (something he thinks she’s collaborating with the first lady on behind his back—they say very similar things much of the time). He skypes with Mallory on Sunday mornings over breakfast in his room and they pretend they’re at a hotel having a fancy brunch.
Charlie: is not particularly happy. He got sent home with everyone else because he’s not particularly necessary to have on hand if the president isn’t going anywhere. He’s still getting paid and he does do some work (the most important bit being hanging out on the phone with the president so he can ramble about history so Zoey can get her own reading done, Leo can browbeat the staff, and the first lady can do her own job) but he’s been ordered by the president and first lady to focus on getting extra school done while he can.
Donna: started freaking out the first day there was a rumor of a new disease in China. Then the White House shut down and even senior staff got sent home unless they absolutely needed to be in the building (basically just C.J. and some of her staff). And her roommate (not the one she'd really liked, who had a cat, but one she hopes is only temporary) works for a GOP congressman who thinks the whole thing is a hoax and bans masks in his office, so Donna is not at all happy and spends time she should be working cleaning things her roommate touches and that's sixty percent of how she ends up living with Josh.
Josh: is struggling with not being allowed to leave the house on pain of the first lady taking him to task (something about his lungs and the bullet). Even when he was putting his nose to the grindstone to make it through college and law school, he liked being around people while he studied, so he was usually in the library or a cafe rather than his room. He works best when he can bounce ideas off people and take in new ideas. When he was grounded after surgery it absolutely sucked and that was why he drove everyone crazy calling them all the time. Yeah he was bored, but he was also lonely. Plus he's not the best with technology. He very nearly went on national tv with his boxers showing, if not for Donna skyping him beforehand and making sure he fixed the camera. Between needing not to be alone and needing his assistant to be able to actually help him, the invite for Donna to stay with him slips out when she's complaining about her roommate. She shows up two hours later with two suitcases of clothes and two suitcases with pasta, toilet paper, and flour.
Donna and Josh: are handling the pandemic much better now that they're together. Josh can bounce ideas off Donna without it tying up his phone line. And she can listen in on his calls to the various members of congress about the stimulus package that they're working on. It's an even better look at Josh's job than she had before, and while it makes some of her work harder to focus on, she feels like she understands some things better than she ever has before. Josh even starts listening to her about how to sway certain congressmembers to their side. When they're not working, Donna forces Josh to cook with her so they're not entirely subsisting on delivery. They tried making bread and managed to spill half a bag of flour on the floor in the process but they ate all of it, even though it tasted pretty bland. Josh finally got Donna into baseball when it came back. Toby spit out his beer when he was on speakerphone with them and he heard Donna accurately yelling at the Mets for screwing up. Donna wears Josh's clothes more than her own, since she doesn't have to be on camera most of the time. They're platonically sharing a bed because they haven't found a convertible sofa for his living room that they like, they say, and it doesn't make sense for one of them to sleep on the couch, which they say has a spring that makes it uncomfortable to sleep on, even though Donna lounges on it all day with no problem. They are absolutely not dating and so they tell all their friends.
C.J.: spends five minutes laughing every time she gets off the phone with Josh or Donna. She loves her friends but god they're so completely in denial. It does, however, give her a much needed break. Her job has always involved a lot of people and knowing what venue to meet them in to ensure that she gets or passes on the information she needs. COVID protocols mean no more one-on-one meetings with journalists in her office, no more gaggles following her through the halls. The press corps were not happy when they moved all briefings outside and insisted on face masks and shields in addition to everyone sitting six feet apart. She gets asked about the president's health at least once a day and they start doing weekly waving from the balconies just so the press corps can get footage of him, healthy and shouting down to Danny and some of the others. Someone makes a cartoon of the president in the tower, with Abbey as his dragon keeper and though no one is willing to justify a cartoon with a comment, privately C.J. thinks it's accurate. She's always admired Abbey's fierce protectiveness of her family, even when she doesn't agree with every way it expresses itself or when it interferes with C.J.'s job. She has to come up with new ways to push the White House agenda (keep the economy afloat, stay home, no, don't listen to the GOP governors or those running for the primary, those ideas are not good, go the fuck home and stop having parties) and while some work, others bomb. It would help if everyone would stay on message and not screw up.
Sam: would like to make it clear that he did not know how many people would be at that gathering. He thought he was going for an outdoor meal with just a few old friends who could help raise money for the democratic party, not a fifty-person birthday party. The media fallout nearly gets him fired. Instead he gets yelled at by C.J., then by the First Lady. Mallory even sends him a card about how stupid he was. He's pretty sure that having Donna around is the only reason that Josh hasn't made the same mistake by now. It had to have been a toss up as to which of the two of them would screw up. Sam just isn't lucky enough to have a Donna (Sam is very happy that Josh has a Donna, Sam just wants Josh to realize that he talks about Donna the same way most men talk about their wives, because it's really hard not to respond to "why do I put up with finding her hair clogging the shower drain" with "because you love her and can't live without her, stupid"). He instead has adopted a cat for company. It tries to scratch him every time he tries to pet it. Sam spends his days trying to find a way to say "fuck the economy until we've beaten the virus" in a way that is palatable to the American people while trying to remind Toby that they can't actually say that outright. This is not an easy task.
Toby: would like to tell most of the American public to shut up, stay indoors for two months, pretty much nobody excepted, and if you don't, then you get tossed out to sea. He's come within an inch of telling anti-mask people they deserve to get sick on the record and is strongly advocating that the federal government figure out a way to mandate that every person in the country, minus those with legitimate medical exceptions, get the vaccine as soon as possible. He is also about to get evicted because it turns out his neighbors do not appreciate having rubber balls bounced against the walls for hours on end. Apparently, the thud is rather annoying. He worries about everyone, though this is delivered brusquely. Out of everyone he's taking the new work from home situation the best. No one can pop in to distract him, or comment on his eating habits. And if he doesn't want to talk to someone, he can always turn his phone to silent and pretend not to have seen they called. He's not pleased the Yankees lost to the Rays (necessitating rooting for either the Dodgers or the Rays, one of which beat his team and the other which betrayed New York), but he can at least take solace in the fact that the Mets didn't even make the playoffs.
#the west wing#pandemic#covid#jed bartlet#president bartlet#abbey bartlet#zoey bartlet#josh lyman#donna moss#josh x donna#sam seaborn#cj cregg#toby ziegler#leo mcgarry#basically there are still dumb people even with a good administration#but they try#and abbey will make sure they stay safe or else#i think this theoretically slots in somewhere in season... three?
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2 stars
This is the third and final book in the Cursebreaker series. I'm not going to do a quickly summary.
Two stars felt REALLY generous here. I am about to SCREAM.
I felt like I'm in one of those Am I The Asshole? Reddit boards reading this book because it sure felt like EVERYBODY SUCKS HERE.
I will get the good things out of the way first. Brigid's writing is quick and easy enough for me to keep me reading and engaged. And she definitely kills people and I like when there's actual deaths and stakes. That's all Iiked about this book unfortunately.
I'm honestly baffled how this could be a good conclusion to a series because it feels like two characters get more than they deserve for absolutely no reason other than the author likes them maybe?? Also the ending didn't feel resolved? After all this tension and conflict, they're trading jokes in a few weeks?? I'm jumping ahead though.
It's weird to me how this series turned from a really interesting Beauty and the Beast retelling with a great female lead who had cerebral palsy to pretty much Grey is the GREATEST CHARACTER EVER series. I've never been a fan of Grey mostly because he's never had much of a personality for me. I'm told he's kind and loyal, but I have heavy grievances when this guy used to bring women to Rhen forever and sometimes be able to protect him (I let it slide because whatever) and then when he's free and learns something crucial, he flees? But readers, that's second book nonsense that still comes up every few pages.
One of the worst things is that nothing really ever happens in AVSBAD until the end. These guys are just waiting for sixty days to get to war and... THAT'S IT! Pretty much everything that happens in this book is introspection and retrospection, and everyone literally being like: oh I forgot we make mistakes or are forced to do some things and I completely forgot that you who I have known for awhile now are capable of doing good things or have done good things!!!
Folks, I was almost looking forward to Lilith showing up because at least there was some god damn excitement. Almost. I still hate her though.
I absolutely cannot stand how my boy, Rhen, was treated through this book. This man who slept consensually with a woman who then turned him into a monster and TORTURED him relentlessly for an eternity, whose only bad fortune was being cursed and really didn't have the opportunity to be the King properly, who put Emberfall first EVERY SINGLE TIME, who took torture onto himself to spare others from harm, WAS ABLE TO SAVE THE DAY and made ONE (1) bad choice means he should be vilified for most of the entire book and then NOT GET TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING OR AT LEAST BE KING???
You're telling me that Grey who got the fuck out of dodge and didn't tell anyone through the truth after we're told he's so LOYAL and allows a kid to be whipped with him even though he had LOTS of opportunity to come clean (wow so kind), who ran away and allied up with the people who hate his own brother, who um... is a bastard and by MOST EVERY BOOK/KNOWLEDGE/SHOW INVOLVING ROYALTY MEANS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING bastards don't have a right to the throne and in no way is this cleared up (I would have dropped this easily if it was mentioned!!), who has no training or again loyalty to his people or Emberfall because he literally didn't think about them once lol, gets to be King? UGH. Also why does everyone love him and want him? What has he done for them to do that?? Why isn't other leaders (lords?? Grand Marshals?) vying for the throne instead? That makes more sense.
On top of that, we don't really get much depth of Grey's magic which is sad. His whole these soldiers need to respect me storyline is boring.
I really loved Lia Mara in the second book. I found her unassuming and smart. She knew how to handle herself. What the hell happened? Suddenly, all she does is sit and sigh and worry. She's crippled by her insecurity and inaction. And then we are continually reminded that's she is going to rule with kindness and compassion,and not violence or fear to the point where I felt like that boy being forced to eat cake in Matilda. I get it!! Honestly, she doesn't do much of anything. Except, barf, get pregnant. The part where she did NOTHING when someone spit at her was ridiculous. You can rule without violence or fear and not accept that behavior.
Harper feels sidelined again in this book, and it's honestly tragic that the two main female characters are just THERE. The relationship between her and Rhen felt incredibly fraught with tension and while they had hard conversations, it didn't feel great.
I honestly hated every character's hot takes and opinions about stuff. It always really felt like everyone just thinks the worst of everyone, and then wants to harp about the things done in the past. And of course, focus only on Rhen's bad choice than Grey's betrayal or how awful Syhl Shallow was to Emberfall from before.
The ending just felt slapped together. Rhen is literally floundering and acting morose because he doesn't know what to do or move forward, but Grey has a drink with him, has some jokes, and says oh I need your help reading people and being my advisor. And that's it. Grey and Lia Mara get too GOOD of a happy ending. It feels like Harper and Rhen have to figure out what happens next.
I loved the first book, but I think I could have lived without the other two books.
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Annoyed
Yesterday, another of our host's friends came over hoping our host would help with a day job. I thought our host was a complete idiot for turning down cash in hand and when his friend offered it to me--I'm deadass fucking broke. Hell the fuck yeah I like money, so I went with him.
Maybe this was stupid in the first place. I have no idea who this guy is. I had no idea what the job was.
So we finally find this house and we're pulling up the staples and tackboard from carpeting. We're chatting and the conversation seems a little unhinged but strangely logical. It's refreshing and makes the time flow. We finish the job and he calls his guy. Turns out his guy won't be out tomorrow. He says we'll get my money to me as soon as possible. I say it's fine, he knows where to find me.
Later in the evening, our host is scolding me for taking the job. He guarantees I won't see my money. I'm a little annoyed that he didn't give me some kind of headsup, but optimistic that maybe he's wrong, or maybe this guy will try to play a game with me, give me the money this time so I'll work with him a few more times. So far today, I haven't seen or heard a thing from this guy. I'm also a little annoyed that if I'd known I would lose on this, I could've used yesterday to return an app and pick up a few more. I'm extra annoyed because today, my glutes are too sore to walk around town. There was at least one more place I had in mind.......
He didn't mention he'd already asked six people, which would've been an alarm bell, until we were on the way back. If he really is ripping people off, it's no wonder people don't want to work with him. I really could've even used sixty bucks.... I was going to get my friend either alcohol or a snack, plus it'd be helpful to turn my phone back on...
I guess I've learned my lesson? I'm definitely not helping this guy again till he gives me at least the sixty bucks.
Edit: He came by and paid me fifty. For my money. I really need to consider if I work with him again or no. Probably just stick to my guns and say not again till you pay me, any time he doesn't.
I really just wanted to show my friend that I'm serious about making my own money, even if I'm flailing at the actually getting a job part. I guess to this point, I've either been really lucky or put in zero effort to the job thing. One thing is certain, the longer I go without my own cashflow, the tighter I'm going to hold onto the next job I do get, even if I continue looking for a better one.
Oh well, tomorrow, my leg muscles will be a lot less sore and I'll take care of a lot of that tomorrow. I think we are also doing errands tomorrow, so I'll be in town anyway.
Bonus story: Yesterday night, my friend and I were trying to tire ourselves out when our host blurts into the darkened room, "Are you guys having sexh?" in his grandfather voice. I promptly responded, "Thank you, ____." I wanted my friend to just keep going, but he would've had to stop anyway because I couldn't have stopped myself from cracking up. If our host hadn't interrupted and instead had just rolled over and turned up his soundscape like anyone else, that might've been the first time I finished with my friend.
Only to find out this morning, he doesn't remember a lot of this week..... which...... I mean, he's okay with our arrangement, so I don't feel like I'm violating or forcing him, it's just...... I know it's not something he's doing on purpose or to be hurtful. But it does hurt, in a way. I can't really elaborate on that right now.
I'm gonna go make another mask and think about it...
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You Don't Know Me
TomiShaped
Summary
After being pulled out of hell Dean realizes quickly that the four months he had been gone made way for a lot of changes in the lives of everyone he knows, including the life he had known for himself before he died. Nobody was treating him the same, and there was seriously something going on with his brother that he could not figure out. He was spending most of his time alone nowadays, not really hunting anymore since Bobby and Sam were against it for him, and spending most of his time drinking instead to try and forget. He was angry, pretty much all the time. That anger really worked in his favour though when walking back to the impala he came across a freaking hoard of demons getting ready to attack some blond chick. He didn't know who she was or what the hell all the demons wanted with her, but there was no way he could just walk away. Maybe if he had any idea what trying to save this person was going to lead too he would have just walked away, maybe if he had actually given any thought to the situation before him he wouldn't have put himself in the middle of it, but even before hell he made impulsive and rash decisions... so maybe not.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One: A Hoard of Demons
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Chapter Two: Welcome to the Batcave
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When they had reached the car Dean made quick work of the door locks and got them both inside before he punched it, only leaving squealing tires and smoke behind them as they took off. Dean didn’t start to relax till they were a mile or so away from the group of demons, still keeping an eye on the mirrors though just in case. “It seems like you really pissed someone off," he said with a grin as he glanced over at the other while he drove.
Izzy did manage to force himself to relax once they were in the car, though Dean still happened to look tense with the way he was looking out his mirrors for someone. Honestly, it probably helped the demon to relax with the fact that Izrael couldn't feel Dagon as close anymore. She was either losing interest or losing track of them for now, either way that worked for him. "Huh?" He was honestly confused at first when Dean said that, "Why would you think I pissed some- oh! Because of all that? Right. Yeah. They don't seem to fond of me, do they? I should probably stop crashing into their parties like that."
Izrael shifted in the seat a little and rolled his eyes when he saw the man look out his mirrors again, "You can stop doing that now. We're fine, mommy lost us," he said with a shrug, leaning back in the seat again, trying to get comfortable. He was ready to get out of the Winchesters car now. And he would really like to do it without having to kill the hunter next to him in order to keep him from following or trying to track him. Even if he didn't have an issue with killing humans, he didn't know which way Dean's soul would go now and having it back in the pit after he killed him could possibly become… problematic. "So uh, yeah, you can just drop me off whenever now and can go get back too… whatever the hell you were doing before joining me at that lovely party tonight. I'm actually supposed to be at a different party right now anyways, so anywhere is good."
Dean snickered when the other said that they had crashed a few parties, it made sense. He did raise an eyebrow when he was told that the horde had backed off of them. Granted he hadn’t noticed any one but still, he never trusted demons to give up. “Well to be honest I was out looking for a good time and I guess I found it,” he said with a wicked grin, still feeling a bit of an adrenaline high from the fight and sprint to the car. “Well the rest of my evening is open if you want some back up,” he offered the blond. “Not saying you can’t handle yourself, I saw that you have some moves back there but twenty to one seemed a bit much,” he said while giving him a bit of a doubtful sidelook. “But I can drop you off wherever your next party is so you don’t get jumped on the way again…” he trailed off a little as he drove. “You could at least tell me your name before you get yourself killed.”
This is what Dean thought of as a good time? The human was either suicidal or crazy then. Sure, Izzy did have fun doing shit like this too, but he was a demon- he was fucking crazy. "Mmm, yeah… it was a bit much till you showed up. Definitely would have ended up losing this jacket," Izrael laughed a little at Dean and shook his head, "See, I haven't gone and learned my lesson yet it seems since I'm definitely gonna be crashing one of their parties again. Gotta find it first though, and I can't do that in a strangers car."
Izrael smiled at the hunter when he asked for his name, "Why would I give someone I've never met in this life my name? Doesn't sound too smart. Besides, I don't see you passing over that information either."
Dean raised an eyebrow when the blond mentioned that they weren’t done yet and was looking to start a similar party to where he just found them. Ok sure he had been doing stupid stuff since he got back but he had an excuse. He was trying to repress what felt like forty years of Hell. Literal Hell, so what was this kid's excuse? She might be crazy, but her crazy was also kinda hot and hunters like this don’t tend to stick in one place long because of the next big hunt. Besides, too often if they stayed in one place for long then all the enemies they made along the way had a tendency to catch up to them.
He grinned when the other responded back about giving names. “Sorry, thought you picked it up before things got hairy. I’m Dean, Dean Winchester," he said as he held a hand out to shake as he drove, glancing at the blond but mostly keeping his eyes on the road. “You know demons can’t keep their big mouths shut, if your next party is anything like that one they’re going to be ready for you and you’re going to lose more than your jacket sweetheart," he said in a matter of fact tone. “Might be a better idea to show up with back up and armed to the teeth,” he offered with a mischievous grin. “Lucky for you I know the perfect place.”
His excuse? His absolute only memories were of hell. Turning into a demon the way he had had wiped out all his human memories and the little demon only knew the last sixty years he had spent in hell training to do just this. He wasn't trying to repress hell, why repress when it was all he knew? He was just doing what Asmodues sent him off to do, and with the youngest prince of hell being the closest person to the blond and having nothing else to really do… he listened. He enjoyed killing other demons, it was a task he found fun. But when your job is to kill any demon that stands against the man you're working for, you don't exactly make any friends. And being alone only gave him more time to hunt down Asmodues's enemies. It was a vicious never ending cycle that wasn't going to chang anytime soon as far as Izrael could tell. Hell either hated him, feared him, or admired him from afar. Very afar. No one was brave enough to chance getting on Izzy's bad side. And those that were like the hoard tonight that actually tried to kill him were just too stupid to stay away and deserved to die anyways as far as he was concerned.
Of course he knew who Dean was once he heard his name. But the hunter didn't need to know that Izrael had heard of him. He eyed the others hand for a moment before he sighed and half gave in to the man, though didn't reach his own hand out, "Izzy Hilton," he said, using the name that Asmodues had given him for when he had to pretend to be human. Though he had no idea that it actually was his name. That Asmodues called him Izrael to see if any of the once nineteen year olds memories would spark with little clues like that. It never did. "They're always on the lookout for me… wouldn't be anything new…" he said with a little shrug, getting the gut feeling that this hunter was not about to let him go off on his own anytime soon. The last thing the little demon needed was to do spend time with a fucking Wincester, especially the one that spent all that time in hell. "No offense, but I don't really work with others. Thanks for the help back there and everything, but you're Dean Winchester… So you and I working together is a bad idea. Trust me."
He put his hand back on the wheel when the other ignored it and told him their name, snorting when he said that demons watching out was nothing new. He understood that, that's what made the Bunker so beautiful. It was the definition of a safe house for spooky shit and basically everything else. He sucked some air between his teeth when it seemed the other knew who he was by name, having heard some of the stuff hunters thought of him while he was putting in time at the Roadhouse. “Okay, that’s fair, I mean we did just meet and I just saved your ass from a rather large gaggle of demons but okay,” he said, half joking. “We don’t really know one another and inviting you to my secret Men of Letters bunker can seem a little Silence of the Lambs but I promise I'm a puppy dog compared to your normal party guests,” He said, not knowing just how wrong he was about that. And yes he did just name drop the Men of Letters to see if that helped his case. Dean wasn’t a creep and if Izzy wanted out he’d drop them off wherever they wanted but all horn dog habits aside he wouldn’t rest well if he did that. He’d probably end up asking around and looking into this pretty Izzy Hilton to see what her story was about. “Again I know bunker can be off putting but this place is huge, over twenty bedrooms alone to pick from. It’s armed to the teeth so nothing is getting in. I have one of the few keys to get in but you can get out whenever you like,” he added, trying to seem a little less kidnappy and rapey. “That and there's a hundred year old whiskey collection.”
Izzy had absolutely zero ideas of what other hunters thought of the man he was currently sitting next too. Up until now, he had done a really good job at avoiding them in his travels and work. Sure, to be on the safe side he did do some research on hunters who seemed to be the biggest threats but until now he hadn't actually met any of them. So right now he couldn't figure out if it was just bad fucking luck that Dean Winchester happened to walk in on his ambush, or some weird good luck to get him out of it unharmed. Even after over fifty years as a demon, almost sixty now maybe? He honestly had never actually hurt a human. So did he deserve this kind of bad luck? On the other hand though, can demons actually have good luck? It was really confusing.
Fact was, Izzy only knew of Dean Winchester from the mouths of other demons. His research on hunters I general was by word of mouth in hell. It wasn't like there were any books he could read on them. So he knew the man was obviously a good hunter, and not just when it came to demons. He knew the idiot sold his soul to save that dumbass brother of his that was hanging around one of the main demons on his own hit list. It was just really hard to get to the bitch when she was being protected by the hunter drinking demon blood. He only knew that from actually running across her once, he could fucking smell the demon blood radiating from the human she was with and it didn't take long to figure out who that human was and what fucking Ruby was doing with him. Little Sammy Winchester. Lovely. He also knew the man next to hum spent what was like forty years in hell, being tortured for most of them by fucking Alastair. It had come as a surprise when he heard that there was some sort of angel watching out for him. Well, the angel part wasn't really known when he figured it out. It was just known that the man was pulled out of hell and Izrael knew that an Angel was the only way the man could have escaped hell and returned to his body the way he had. And really, he would prefer to avoid angels. Most demons weren't really that much of a threat to him. They could likely hurt him but Izzy was not easy to actually kill. Not that they had quite figured that out yet. But he had no idea what an angel might be able to do to him.
Izrael couldn't remember his own torture. He actually had no idea it even happened. Ever since the day Asmodues found his newly turned demon in that cage he kept his pet in, the youngest prince acted as though that was the first day of Izzy's life. He didn't even know that he was in that cage because of that man in the first place. "I'm not afraid of you, Dean, even though I'm pretty damn sure you're no puppy dog," Izzy told him with a little roll of his eyes, the man who had spent his last few years in hell torturing other souls was far from a puppy. But he had caught Izzy's attention mentioning the Men of Letters. He vaguely remembered Asmodues mentioning them decades ago. Something about them being all dead now… about them holding knowledge no one else had. Going to this bunker… could prove useful if the knowledge thing was true.
Izzy finally looked over at Dean again, tucking hair behind his ears, "Well whiskey is always a very good and tempting offer," he said, chewing on his lip a little as he thought it over. "If you're all armed like you say you are… Do you also have books and shit? Like, books on demons and shit." Izzy knew he had been turned differently than almost every other demon that existed, he had to have been to have his own body and no ability whatsoever to jump from one meatsuit to the next, but he had no idea what happened to make him this way. And no book he had found since being set loose on the world had been able to give him the answer he was looking for. If this bunker had hidden knowledge it might be his best bet to find out how he turned, because Asmodues wasn't telling him anytime soon. "And I really wouldn't have to just stay if I don't want to. I can just walk out? Serioisly?"
Dean just grinned when the other said he was pretty sure he wasn’t a puppy, calling him out like that. And he believed them when they said that they weren’t scared of him, he did find her in the middle of a demon infested alleyway in the middle of the night. His grin grew when Izzy seemed to be mulling the thought over. He raised an eyebrow and chanced a longer glance at the other when he was asked about books. That he hadn’t been expecting, didn’t peg her for a book type. There might be something they were looking for specifically that the old bats had locked away. He would definitely be doing an inventory check but hey it sounded like they were coming around to the idea. A new face and alone time might do him some good, even if they don't get handsy and this Izzy turned out to be a gigantic book worm.
“Like I said you need a magic key to get in but getting out isn’t a problem, locks behind you but I had to warn you the cell service sucks,” he said with a smile. He altered his route and started out of town and toward the bunker. The long ride to the bunker was pretty much silent after that, Dean was honestly a bit too nervous to say something and have the blond change her mind about coming. He couldn't help wanting to help her, wanting to figure her out at least a little. From wanting to protect the little thing and knowing that he would just worry about them at this point. “Just don’t take anything alright? Not really supposed to take people to the BatCave but…” he trailed off with a shrug after he parked by the bunker, obviously making an exception for the blond right now.
Dean decided to leave Baby in a little hidden knook they made for when they didn’t plan on staying long and putting her in the very nice garage. He just grinned as they walked up to the old green doors after grabbing a bag from the trunk and he pulled it open for the other. Once past the first threshold Dean unlocked the second doors and stepped through, holding it open for the other. “This is the legacy of the Men of Letters, a bit old and dusty but we’re still fixing the place up.” he said as they made their way down the spirling, metal staircase. He walked past the light up map table and tossed his bag on the first long table in the library. “Would you like a tour?” he asked as he turned to the other, smiling at them.
He just wanted a fucking book that explained how humans became demons. Without their souls spending hundreds of years tortured in hell. Asmodues had no choice but to tell him that he turned differently than everyone else when he realized he couldn't just jump from meat suit to meat suit like everyone else could. His soul never left his body, something in him changed while he was still a human. But that was all Asmodues would say on the subject. Honestly it was the one thing about his the man who called himself Izzy's master that drove him absolutely insane. He didn't care so much about whatever his human life was since he couldn't miss what he didn't remember or had any sort of idea what it might have been like, but he did want to know why he turned into a demon. Was he evil in his previous life? Is that how it worked? He remembered someone once saying that he must have cracked to change the way he did, but cracked from what and how? He just wanted to know how the fuck he came into existence. What made him so different from other demons. Why even Dagon, who knew that Izzy couldn't kill her without that oh so special gun, feared him to some extent. And nothing he had found so far explained any of that shit. Was he a bookworm? Mmm, debatable. Ask any demon who knew him they'd say no,, but Izzy was really good at keeping things about himself pretty damn secret. The less people knew the less they had on you and the safer you were. But the truth was that he did love books, loved to read and learn. And now that he wasn't under Asmodues' thumb at all times and had a mission to carry out, he was able to use research for said mission as an excuse to read. Sure, he was actually doing research but for so much more than anyone actually knew.
Izzy shrugged when he mentioned cell service, that meant pretty much nothing to him. Of course he knew what a cell phone was, he had been in this world long enough. But he never felt the need to get one. Who the hell was he gonna call? "No big deal, no cell phone. I was serious, I've never worked with someone else before. Never felt the need to get one," he shrugged, as little like it was normal or something to not have a cell this day and age. He honestly didn't actually know either way though. "And I don't plan on taking anything. I've got my own weapons and shit. Just… looking for a little info is all. If you happen to have a book with what I want to know, well, then I won't really need it anymore once I read it." He ignored the Bat Cave comment for the moment, not wanting to let the hunter next to him realize he actually understood the reference. He especially didn't want him to know he found it amusing.
Izzy was a bit unsure following Dean into the bunker when they got there. This could be a really, really stupid idea. But on the other hand… he was going to have info on the Winchester's no one else could possibly dream of having and he might get a few other answers out of this as well so he followed along. He looked around as Dean led him through the place, tilting his head and letting a confused little look cross his face as he tilted his head back to see the ceiling, "Uh, sure, if you want. So, do you keep the bats in some special room or something? I kinda just pictured them all over the place."
No phone probably should have set off more red fags then it did. Even if you were a loner it was useful to have one since pay phones were all but extinct. He tilted his own head when Izzy had mentioned bats, that had been a reaction he might have expected from Cas but really? “It’s not really a batca-... never mind. This is our fortress,” he said, just trying to get past what he felt was a painful moment. He turned on his heel and held up his arms out on either side as he gestured to the books. “This is the library. Nothing says stuffy bookworms like having a library right at the front door right?” He said with a laugh, turning completely to face the other as he walked around one of the tables.
If Izrael actually cared much about completely blending in when he was going by Izzy he probably would have gotten a cell phone. But truth be told, he didn't actually care what humans thought about him and despite Asmodues having insisted he play the part on earth he could probably count on one hand how many times he had ever used the name Izzy before. Since he usually avoided hunters he rarely ever felt the need too. So really… What was the point of carrying around a little electronic box used to call people? The only person who would ever actually want to get ahold of him had his own ways of doing so. But even Asmodues left Izzy to himself for the most part nowadays as long as he kept doing what he was told and continued to work his damnedest to keep Lucifer in his box. Though if he had realized how odd it actually was to not have one, he wouldn't have mentioned it.
Of course it wasn't actually a Bat Cave. It almost annoyed him that the hunter found it so easy to believe that the batman reference really meant nothing to the blond. Sure, part of him was glad too because he didn't want the fact that he enjoyed those comics to be known by anyone, but still… how stupid did this hunter think he really was if he believed that Izzy? He was pretty sure that Batman was popular among humans. It was the Winchester thinking he was dumb that bothered him more than anything though, because that was just not true. Izzy had always been rather smart, even before he turned, a near photographic memory. But with all memories of humanity gone, and those memories being from close to sixty years before anyways, all that was left was hell and the supernatural. And he figured that shit out quickly, easily. Humans, not so much. Humanity and what they were like and what they did like were never on his list of things he needed to learn about. Humans weren't his targets. "No offense, but you don't exactly strike me as the bookworm type," he said, moving around the table to go and look at the spines of the books, fingers running lightly over them. Yeah, this would definitely be his best bet at finding answers. Some of these were obviously old as fuck. "The kill first and ask questions later type. Though I suppose since all you hunters go after everything supernatural, you need the lore books, huh?" He personally didn't bother with any other supernatural beings, just the demons on Lucifer and Dagon's side. Which was probably a good thing for them, if this little demon were to ever start working as a real hunter with someone like Dean… they wouldn't stand a chance. As they had proved earlier… the two of them working on the same side had some pretty nasty consequences for those fighting against them.
Dean chuckled when Izzy said he didn’t seem like the book worm type, oh hell no that was Sammy’s department. “Yea no, that's more of my brother's thing,” he said as he walked over to the opposite wall, towards the small table with a few bottles filled clear, brown liquid and a few glasses. “I at least wait long enough to see what I'm fighting so I know how to kill it,” he said as he poured them a few glasses and headed to the closest main table to the blond. He leaned against it on his hip and took a sip from his glass while he held out the other to Izzy. The others wording did strike him as odd though and he raised an eyebrow a little. The way he said it was just off, but Dean wanted to think Izzy was just into demons than, and therefore could know some pretty useful stuff. That or maybe he was really green and thought of himself being different from regular hunters. His gut was telling him something was still off though, but he wasn’t sure what.
“You know, you never mentioned what you were looking into. I’m guessing something demon related,” he mentioned to the other. There wasn’t much small talk on the car ride over.
Izzy was glad his back was to the hunter when he mentioned his brother so he didn't see the little demon roll his eyes and scowl at the mention of that junkie who was seriously getting in his way with that bitch he was attached to. He was pretending he didn't really know much about them… which wasn't a complete lie, but he had a serious suspicion he knew something about the younger Winchester that Dean didn't. He might know about the demon bitch Sam hung out with but he highly doubted this man knew about the blood and psychic shit that boy was playing with. The psychic shit was honestly the main reason he hadn't gone after Ruby yet, he wasn't like other demons, he had no idea how Sam's little exercising shit would affect him.
He didn't say anything for a bit while Dean spoke and walked around the room, more interested in looking through the shelves of books for anything that looked promising. But he never let his guard down really, constantly aware of where Dean was around him or how close he was. He stiffened a bit when he felt Dean closer again and he asked that direct question. Izzy didn't really want to answer anything he was asked, but avoiding taking to him too much might just seem more suspicious. Fuck. He really should have paid more attention to the humans around him the last decade, he was really bad at trying to be one. "Yeah, demon related," Izzy finally said as he turned around and saw Dean holding out the whiskey he had promised. Alcohol didn't really affect him as much as it did humans unless he drank an ungodly amount so he wasn't worried about drinking at least.
He took the glass offered to him and leaned against the bookshelf behind him, shrugging his shoulder a little, "Don't know if you picked up on it during that whole ambush shit, but I kinda hunt demons. Apparently I'm pretty good at it since they don't seem to like me much at all." He took a drink from the whiskey he was given, relishing in the burn that goes down his throat. As a demon, the little blond didn't need to eat. The few times he did were few and far between and it was always for some reason he couldn't figure out, but knew he just wanted whatever the hell it was that he was trying. But he did like to drink. Alcohol that is. He liked the burn.
"Just curious what kind of people become demons and how. Always good for a guy to know everything he can about his enemies and all, yanno?" It wasn't a lie. He had actually been avoiding actually lying to the hunter. Izzy didn't like to lie, it was too hard to remember the fake information he had given to who. So the only thing he had lied about was his name, but that wasn't that big of a lie as Izzy did sound like a nickname for Izrael. Mostly, he was just leaving out details he didn't think Dean needed to know. Like the fact he was a demon and really just wanted to know how he, himself, had turned. How demons like him were made. Because as far as the books he had found about demons elsewhere knew, Cain was the only other person to become a demon this way. And almost nothing was fucking known about that man. As a matter of fact, he was the one demon who no matter how hard he tried Izzy could not fucking find. Not that he had really looked into how to find him. He didn't want to kill Cain like he did with everyone else he hunted down, he wanted answers. But even so, he knew Cain wasn't exactly like him and probably didn't have the answers he wanted. So that had just been another fucking dead end. The little blond didn't do a whole lot of shit that he actually wanted to do or something anyways, ninety percent of his time was spent following Asmodues' orders to hunt down Dagon's followers and make sure Lucifer didn't get out of that cage.
Dean nodded a little when the other confirmed that it was demon related, easy guess. “You don’t pick up that kind of attention without being a major pain in their ass,” he said with a snicker. The man's shoulders stiffened when he took another drink when Izzy said what he was looking into. What kind of people become demons. He forced back a smile and shifted a little as he tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand and not let it run off with the flashbacks and nightmares he has. It felt like every time he blinked he was hit with a flash of something he’d seen or had done. He told everyone he didn't’ remember any of it and refused to talk about it and self medicated with liquor like any good hunter.
“Well demons are mostly twisted and tortured souls. You get twisted up so much down there you turn into something else,” he said, rubbing at his brow as he fidgeted a little as he spoke. “At the end of the day they're a spirit, just nastier. You don’t normally catch one running around before they possess someone but the same tricks apply, salt and iron,” he told him, running off a few things off the top of his head, mostly from first hand experience. “I’m sure you know all about devils traps and all that,” he said, waving his hand and finally looking over at the other. It was probably a good thing Dean had been so caught up with that Izzy was looking into that he completely missed the suspicious pronoun.
Well duh, obviously he was a pain in their asses. Two dozen of them had actually gotten together without someone in power telling them what to do to try and take him out. They failed, miserably thanks to the hunter near him right now, but it didn't negate the fact that Izzy was a huge threat to them and their plans. Really though, if the whole fucking lot of them just fucking stopped trying to set Lucifer free Izzy would have no problem leaving them alone. But until that happened…. He had a job to do. What the hell would he do with himself if Asmodeus actually managed to take the crown and this mission was over? He'd actually never thought about that before. Every single memory he had had something to do with him having to keep Lucifer in the cage.
Izzy couldn't help but roll his eyes at Dean when the man just told him shit he already knew. Was he actually under the impression that someone he thought was a legit demon hunter didn't know that shit already? Also. He was wrong. While holy water did have the same effect on him that it did to most demons, salt and iron actually didn't bother him for some reason. Every single voice in his head was screaming at him to keep his mouth shut for a while, to not get sucked into this conversation. But the thing was… he actually wanted to talk about this shit. He never talked with anyone about shit he actually wanted too. Demons avoided him unless they were trying to kill him, he avoided humans and hunters, and Asmodues pretty much just told him what to do. The little demon didn't actually have any memories of just talking with someone about something he was interested in. And this happened to be the biggest fucking intrest he really had right now.
"See, right there just proves you really have no fucking clue what you're actually dealing with, do you? Obviously being tortured in hell is going to fuck up any soul in some way, but not every soul in hell becomes a demon. This world would be fucked if they did. There are millions and millions of souls in hell." He only just stopped himself from pointing out that despite Dean's own torture and escapades with Alastair he didn't actually turn into a demon. No, a fucking angel actually came and pulled him from the pit. So what the hell was it that made some souls twist the same way he had even though he hadn't gone through that die and be tortured shit and made others just… well, be tortured for all eternity. Or torture as was the case with some. "Yeah, most of them are just nastier twisted spirits, and you don't normally see one walking around without someone else's meat suit… but they can. It's apparently super fucking rare for it to happen, but a human can just wake up a demon somehow. In their own skin and everything. So I want to know what makes the souls that twist that way different from those that don't. What kind of person they must have been. And what happens to those people who turn? How does that happen? But unfortunately, because it's so fucking rare, I haven't been able to find a single book in the last ten years that actually explains that shit." He sighed a little in frustration at the thought before just shaking his head and finishing the rest of his own drink before he turned his back to Dean again to start looking through the books again, waving his own hand in dismissal of the subject. Dean wasn't going to have the answers he wanted obviously. "But yes, of course I know all about devils traps. I just don't use them." He couldn't if he wanted too, not unless he wanted to get stuck inside one himself. Besides, even if he could… with the way he hunted, it would be pretty damn useless and time consuming to try since it was usually a sneak attack/ambush of his own on their own grounds. Wasting time with a devils trap when it was just so much easier to kill them just seemed stupid. "Do you have any sort of order with these books or am I gonna have to look through all of them to find the ones about demons?"
Dean was a little taken back when Izzy said that he had no clue about demons. He felt anger rise up in his belly and his face tightened some. His pride didn’t like that but the built up emotion subsided the more Izzy spoke. He did have a point, if that’s all it took then Hell would be nothing but demons. He never really focused on the fine details, he just killed them. His face became a mix of surprises and doubt when Izzy kept going and told him about the type of demons that keep their bodies. What the hell? He’d never heard of something like that before, what the hell could it be capable of? It was a worrying thought. “This keeps getting better and better,” Dean muttered under his breath. He couldn't stop his brain from thinking about his younger brother on his road trip with his little demon buddy. What if that was Ruby's plan, twist his brother into one of them? He’d fucking gank that bitch before she could try. He wanted to call and check up but that hadn’t gone so well last time.
He made a small face when Izzy asked about an order to the crazy amount of information. He finished his half glass of whiskey and pushed off of the table, setting the glass down before walking away. “I have a feeling what we’re looking for isn’t in here, come on,” He said, motioning the other to follow him with a head nod. He led the blond down the hall a bit, through another doorway and down some stairs. He pushed one of the two heavy doors open and held it open for the other hunter. “When we started going through the stuff that was left here we found that most of the heavy reading books are in here,” He told him. The room was about 25 by 25 feet, metal shelving lined all the walls filled with books and some jars. There was a decent sized table in the middle of the room under the only light, taking up a good chunk of the free space.
Dean just nearly kidnapped the little blond he helped out that he knew nothing about other than the fact he could kill demons pretty damn well and brought him to his secret bunker and he thought anything that came out of this idea wouldn't be completely fucked? Hell. He was pretty damn sure that Dean didn't even realize yet that he hadn't stepped in to help a pretty little girl, but actually a boy who just happened to look a lot like one. Add on to that fact that this boy was also one of those freaky ass demons he was just talking about and you could see clearly that this man definitely hadn't thought this through. "You have no idea," Izzy mumbled back, not sure or honestly even caring if Dean heard him.
Izzy set down the glass still in his hand before he shrugged again and followed Dean through the bunker. Fuck. This place really was huge. Izzy couldn't help but grin a little when he looked into the room. Dark. Enclosed. No way for anyone to try and sneak up on him again. Exactly the kind of rooms he liked and usually worked in when he was looking for a party to crash. "Awesome," he said as he walked in the room. Creepy jars and big old books lining the walls on top of everything else, Izzy had instantly and probably noticeably relaxed more when he was in the room that was so much like a place he would actually want to be in. He didn't say anything else as he started scanning the books on one of the shelves, his eyes widening some when he saw what he instantly felt like he had been looking for for years now. It was smaller than any of the other books in here, but that wasn't surprising considering how little information there probably was at all on demons like him. Humans Turning Demon.
Izzy grabbed the book off the shelf and took a few steps backwards to push himself up to sit on the table, just remembering that Dean was there as he went to open the book. "Uhm… thanks," he said, forcing himself to remember that he was supposed to be a human and actually used to having someone around and even weirder for him- that someone helping him. "Hey… uh, why are you being so like… nice and normal to me? As far as I've seen, people aren't just nice to strangers. Especially when said stranger is a pretty boy who can shove a knife into a human skull."
Dean noticed the small change in the others' demeanor when he showed them the room. The room didn’t bother him or his brother too much but ‘awesome’ wasn’t the normal reaction to this stuff. Though in this line of work, who’s really normal? You see a lot of weird and horrible shit fast and you pick up a few quirks along the way. He had half turned when the other called out to him and thanked him, he was going to leave Izzy alone to do their digging. He raised an eyebrow when he was asked why he was being so helpful. He opened his mouth with a grin to say it was just the right thing to do for a lady when Izzy said that last part, his words luckily getting caught up in his throat. BOY!? WHOLY FUCK!! Deans back straightened as he looked the other over again. It took him a second or two to catch himself and he cleared his throat out a little. “Well you want demons dead and I want demons dead,” He said with a shrug, his brain still trying to absorb this enlightening new detail about the blond. “And I learned about a new fleshy kind of demon, win win,” He said with a stiff chuckle. Hell all of Dean seemed stiff. Right now, he honestly didn’t know what the fuck to do.
Izzy watched the other actually curious for a moment to see if he would finally catch what he said. Aaaand, there it was! He had to give the hunter some props, he was taking the fact that he mistaked Izzy for a girl better than he could remember anyone else had. Demons especially hated him for it. Not for the same reasons that humans seemed too, most demons really didn't care what your fucking gender was as they body hopped so often, what they didn't like was that someone so small, sweet, and innocent looking was actually a deadly assassin sent by a prince of hell. And worse, he was good at it. Izzy looked away from him again and back at the book he was holding when Dean started to talk, crossing one leg over the other as he started to look through the book. "If the idiots would just abandon their stupid plans of trying to break Lucifer from the cage I would just leave them alone," Izzy muttered as most of his attention was back to the book in his hands, not realizing he even said it out loud or knowing if Dean had heard about what this specific group of hellions were planning. "I wouldn't count too much on actually finding one, I've only ever found info on one and I can't find that fucker for the life of me. I've never not found a mark before him, it was actually really frustrating…" he said, talking more naturally and easily than he had before with most of his attention focused on something else. He could feel his heart racing as he read through the pages. The first few were just about Cain. How he had become a demon. That was actually interesting even if none of what he was learning would help him track the mother fucker. Cain was the only demon specifically named though. After the chapter on him, the book went on to explain how because of him it had become possible for a human to turn. And what had to happen to said human for something like that to happen and Izzy found that for the first time that he could remember, he was grateful for something. He was really fucking grateful that he couldn't remember being human. Because this shit sucked.
Dean relaxed his shoulders when the other didn’t point out how obviously awkward his mistake was. It must have happened quite a bit and it was obvious as to why. Though he didn’t dwell on it for too long after catching Izzy mutter under his breath. So Izzy knew about Lucifer and over half of Hell’s plans to free him. Not too many hunters really knew what was going on, just that demons had been kicking up a shit storm lately. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the table Izzy was sitting on. He raised a brow when Izzy said he’d only found one and he couldn’t track him. “A mark?” He asked, not following him. “Do you think they could make more demons like that? I have a feeling they’d be a bitch in a fight.”
"Not a mark, my marks. Whatever demon I'm hunting at the time," Dean really did get kind of lucky that Izzy had found this book if he wanted to ask questions. The lithe demon was only half paying attention to whatever he was saying, basically only enough to make sure he didn't let the fact that he was one of these demons slip out. "Though he does actually have a mark that turned him in the first place. Didn't know that." Izzy nodded without hesitation at the other males next question though, "Definitely. Seriously time consuming and difficult, but not impossible. Looks like when it does happen, it's usually an accident. And they are definitely totally awesome in a fight. Stronger than a knight of hell but not quite as strong as a prince. And not easy to kill. Our knives won't kill one of them." The book didn't actually tell him that last part, he knew it from experience back when Asmodues was first training him. He had kinda lost his temper at the pretty little blond and actually fucking stabbed him with the same knife he now had hidden in his boot. All it did to the blond was piss him off though. It ruined the dress he was wearing and had left a nasty little scar in his side where he had been stabbed. "So unless your Cain with his first blade or have that colt and bullets that you killed Azazel with, or yanno, a crazy person like me, I would avoid looking for one of them." He took in a deep breath as he slammed the book shut, trying to not let it be seen how incredibly fucking furious he was right now. Well, at least he knew why Asmodues was so keen on him not knowing how he turned. "So uh, yeah. Thanks for the info. Great fucking room ya got here. But I gotta go find a certain prince and tear his fucking head off somehow," Izzy said, his voice showing he obviously was not happy with what he just read if his words didn't give that part away. He was caring less and less about whatever fucking cover he was supposed to be playing here. He couldn't fully remember right now what he had let on that he knew about the man in the room with him but he no longer really cared. He pushed himself down from the table and went to move past Dean, "Nice to meet ya and all that shit and like, thanks for the help…" he paused for a moment to look at the hunter again, fuck it. Dean gave him access to the information he so desperately wanted, he figured he could return the favour with some info that Dean probably actually needed, "By the way, you really should probably get your brother away from Ruby because bitch has him all fucked up, pretty sure that people shouldn't actually be drinking demon blood the way he is. Pretty fucked up. So yeah. Gotta go."
“Oh they sound great,” Dean said when Izzy confirmed that more could be made this way. “Oh yea, awesome,” He shot back when Izzy went on about them and described them that way and mentioned that the knives were worthless against them. The only good thing that was mentioned was that apparently they were only ever made on accident and there were no rumored army’s full of them. He had noticed the others snapping of the book and the anger rolling off of him, clearly having read something he didn’t like. “Oh yea that sounds like a feasible plan, how do you plan on getting in Hel-?” He was cut off by the other male thanking him for the help. “Wait.” He said, not wanting the other to run off and get killed while half cocked. He didn’t get a chance to say anything else because what Izzy said after that shut him right up. “Wait, what the hell are you talking about?” He asked, his voice showing his own rising anger. “And how the hell do you know who he’s with?” He asked him. This ment Izzy knew who they were before he ran into him tonight. He started reaching for his pistol in a back holster without thinking much about it. “Who are you?” He asked, taking a step back and raising the fire arm.
Izzy rolled his eyes as Dean called after him when he turned and started to walk to the bunkers exit. If he did leave here right now, he really would go straight to the youngest prince and try and kill the fucker somehow. "Oh come on Dean, you're pretty and reckless but I didn't peg you for being stupid. I hunt demons. Ruby is a fucking demon. And your brother is running around with her. Do I really need to connect all the dots for you?" He stopped for a moment when he heard the click of the firearm and rolled his eyes again. Really? First time he ever tried to actually help someone else out and they pulled a gun on him. Not that Dean's pistol would actually hurt him, but he had been serious when he mentioned he liked this jacket. He didn't feel like throwing it out because of a bullet hole after he managed to actually keep it through the ambush.
He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. "I was after her. I really can't fucking stand her. Unfortunately for me, your junkie brother was in the way and I couldn't get close enough without having to kill him first, and since I don't kill humans that wasn't exactly an option." He waved his hand at the pistole pointed at him, looking more annoyed that Dean was pointing it at him than anything else, "But I swear to fuck if you pull that trigger that'll change real fucking fast as I will slit your fucking throat." He wasn't reaching for the knife though, he wasn't scared of the gun and wouldn't pull it unless Dean actually did attack him first. After all, he didn't know the bullet wouldn't hurt him, he would definitely be trying to kill him and Izzy didn't take well to that happening. Threats were usually whatever, a dime a dozen when you did what he did, but actually trying to do it was another thing completely. "Now do you wanna play this game with me too or do you mind if I go now?"
Dean narrowed his eyes when Izzy said he hunted demons. He didn’t say anything for a minute after Izzy said all that and threatened retaliation by cutting his throat. His jaw was tense but he eased the hammer back and lowered his gun. He didn’t like anything he had said. He just knew Izzy was keeping something from him but… he was telling the truth about his brother and Dean hated it. He kept his hard eyes on the blond as he put his gun back in his holster and he pulled out a small piece of paper from his back pocket and grabbed a forgotten pen on the table. He didn't say anything as he quickly jotted something down, folded it and handed it to him. “In case you do something stupid like take on a prince of hell and want back up,” He said, his voice was quiet and calm. His reboiling rage wasn’t aimed at the blond any more so he tried to keep it from exploding on him. He had seen what he could do with that knife of his.
The anger at the hunter seemed to dissipate when he withdrew his weapon and put it back in the holster. Smart move, because the little demon had been deadly fucking serious about retaliation if he tried to shoot him. When Dean handed him that paper and said that, Izzy couldn't stop the confused look that crossed his face. Seriously? They both just threatened to kill the other and Dean was offering to back him up again a second later? What the fuck went on in human fucking heads? He really didn't understand them at all. At least not this one. And this happened to be the first one he spent any length of time with. "Right. Not gonna happen, but thanks? The backup thing. The prince thing is totally happening." After nearly sixty years around Asmodeus, Izzy didn't hold any fear of him. The prince needed Izzy and they both knew it. Besides, that was a long time to spend with anyone, and since the prince had wanted Izzy a secret until he was ready he had been the one Izzy trained with most often before he started throwing demon chum his way to practice with. Izzy knew that mans every fucking move.
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