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#the way he can switch between cute dork and professional just like that
thewnchstrs · 2 years ago
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Pairing: Winchester!Sister(OC)
Summary: While investigating a mysterious death in Chicago, Sam, Dean and Ellie run into Meg, who is thrilled to see Sam again.
Disclaimers: blood, swearing, tears, death
Word Count: 7K 
S E R I E S  M A S T E R L I S T
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Chicago, Illinois
Dean pulled the car up against the sidewalk of the busy street, throwing the door open as he stepped out and rounded his way to the trunk. I adjusted the name tag on my electrician costume, getting ready to push the car door open when I noticed Sam, who continued to stare down at the newspaper in his hands. The victim of the girl in the case we were investigating staring back up at him.
“You coming?” I asked. Sam nodded once, throwing the newspaper onto the dashboard.
“Alright,” Sam said as we stepped out of the car and looked up at the apartment building a block away. “This is the place.”
Dean adjusted his grip on the toolbox in his hand as we began to walk. “You know, I’ve gotta say, dad, Ellie and I did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork.” Sam laughed, shaking his head. “What was that play that you did? What was it – Our Town? Yeah, you were good, it was cute.”
I laughed at the memory, “Yeah, it was riveting.”
“Look, you wanna pull this off or not?” Sam asked.
“I’m just saying, these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?”
“Whose?”
“Ours,” Dean said defensively. “You think credit card fraud is easy?”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Thanks for letting us look around.”
“Well, the police said they were done with the place,” the landlady said as she unlocked the door to Meredith McDonnell’s apartment. “You guys said you were with the alarm company?”
Dean nodded, “That’s right.”
“Well, no offense, but your alarm’s about as useful as boobs on a man.”
I raised my eyebrows, glancing at Sam and Dean, “Well, that’s why we’re here. To see what went wrong and stop it from happening again.”
The landlady led us into the living room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, you could’ve easily mistaken the apartment for any other apartment if it weren’t for the giant blood stains on the white carpet.
“Now, ma’am, you found the body?” Sam asked as we began to inspect the room.
“Yeah.”
“Right after it happened?”
“No. Few days later,” she said. “Meredith’s work called—she hadn’t shown up. I knocked on the door. That’s when I noticed the smell.” The landlady cringed slightly at the memory.
Dean moved the curtain away, “Any windows open? Any sign of break-in?”
“No, windows were locked, front door was bolted. Chain was on the door, we had to cut it just to get in.”
“And the alarm was still on?” I asked.
She nodded, “Like I said, bang-up job your company’s doing.”
“Mmhmm. You see any overturned furniture, broken glass, signs of struggle?”
“Everything was in perfect condition—except Meredith.”
“And what condition was Meredith in?” Sam asked.
The landlady hesitated, “Meredith was…all over. In pieces. The guy who killed her must have been some kind of a whack job. But I tell you, if I didn’t know any better, I’d have said a wild animal did it.”
Sam, Dean and I shared a look, “Ma’am, do you mind if we take some time? Give this place a once-over?”
“Oh, well, go right ahead. Knock yourself out.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Dean opened his tool box, pulling out three EMF detectors, handing Sam and I each one. “So, a killer walks in and out of the apartment—no weapons, no prints, nothing.”
“I’m telling you, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig,” Sam said as he switched the EMF detector on, the device whirring to life.
“I think I agree with you.”
“So, you talked to the cops?” I asked as I began to walk around the apartment, holding out the EMF detector.
Dean moved the detector over the walls, “Uh, yeah. I spoke to Amy, a charming, perky officer of the law.”
“Yeah? What’d you find out?”
Dean paused, “Well, she’s a Sagittarius. She loves tequila, I mean—wow. Oh, and she’s got this little tattoo—"
“Dean!” I nearly shouted, not wanting to hear anymore than I had to.
“What? Yeah. Uh, nothing we don’t already know, except for one thing they’re keeping out of the papers,” Sam and I waited a beat for him to continue. “Meredith’s heart was missing.”
Sam raised his eyebrows, “Her heart?”
“Yeah. Her heart,” Dean said. “So, what do you think did it to her?”
I shrugged, “Well, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe it was. Werewolf?”
Sam shook his head, “No, no werewolf, the lunar cycle’s not right. Plus, if it was a creature, it would’ve left some kind of trace. It’s probably a spirit.”
We found ourselves all standing over the blood in the carpet again, looking down at it. Dean tilted his head, examining it closely. “See if you can find any masking tape around.”
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Sam and I watched as Dean worked, connecting the dots of the blood splatter in a pattern it seemed that only he could see. He tore the tape after connecting one line to another before starting another line of tape until finally, he stood, stepping back to look down at it. “Ever see that symbol before?”
We each cocked our heads, examining it. The symbol looked like a large letter ‘Z’ with a circle in the middle of it. I wracked my brain for every lore book I’d ever read before crossing my arms over my chest, stumped. “Never.”
Sam shook his head, “Me neither.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sam’s POV
Ellie and I sat down at a table in the bar, watching from a distance as Dean immediately began to hit on the bartender who leaned over the counter, smiling widely at him. I opened dad’s journal, starting with trying to find anything that looked remotely similar to the bloodstain pattern. I heard Ellie sigh next to me, watching as she rotated her thumbs over each other out of my peripherals.
“Well, I’m gonna go play some pool-” Ellie tried before I flicked my eyes up to her.
“Nice try.”
“Sam-”
I shook my head, pulling out the newspaper clipping of Meredith I’d been looking at before we went into Meredith’s apartment. “You’re not leaving my sight, not after that last hunt.”
Ellie sighed as Dean came up from behind her, sitting in the chair between her and I, “I talked to the bartender.”
“Did you get anything? Besides her number?” I asked.
“Dude, I’m a professional. I’m offended that you would think that,” Dean said. Ellie and I stared at him, knowing better. Dean instantly broke into a smile, holding up a napkin with a phone number written on it. “Alright, yeah.”
“You mind doing a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?”
“Huh?” Dean said, confused before shaking his head. “Look, there’s nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, everyone here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn’t do or say anything weird before she died. What about that symbol, you find anything?”
I shook my head, “Nope, nothing. It wasn’t in dad’s journal or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess.”
Ellie leaned over the table, “Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?”
I nodded, rifling through the numerous articles that were stuffed into the journal, “Right. Yeah. His name was, uh—his name was Ben Swardstrom.” I pulled the article out, sliding it in between Dean and Ellie. “Last month he was found mutilated in his town house. Same deal—the door was locked, the alarm was on.
“Is there any connection between the two of them?” Dean asked.
“Not that I can tell—I mean, not yet, at least. Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common—they were practically from different worlds.”
“So, to recap, the only successful intel we’ve scored so far is the bartender’s phone number,” Dean asked, but at this point, I wasn’t paying attention to him. I was now intently watching the woman just over his shoulder, her short blonde hair cut close to her head and her laugh that reverberated off of the bar walls drew me to her. I immediately stood, Dean and Ellie calling after me. “What? Sam?”
I walked toward her table where she sat with her back toward me, taking a drink from her glass. I laid a hand on her shoulder as she quickly swiveled around, my suspicions being confirmed as she smiled up at me. “Meg.”
“Sam!” She beamed as she hugged me. “Is that you? Oh, my gosh! What are you doing here?”
“I’m just in town, visiting friends.”
Meg looked around, “Where are they?”
“Well, they’re not here right now,” I said quickly. “But what about you, Meg? I thought you were going to California.”
“Oh, I did. I came, I saw, I conquered,” she smiled. “Oh, and I met what’s-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar.”
“Who?”
She waved it off, “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I’m living here for a while.”
“You’re from Chicago?”
I heard two sets of footprints come up behind me as Dean cleared his throat.
“No, Massachusetts—Andover,” she said went on, ignoring Dean and Ellie. She smiled up at me, shaking her head. “Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we’d run into each other?”
“Yeah, I know, I thought I’d never see you again.”
Meg took her bottom lip in between her teeth, “Well, I’m glad you were wrong.” We continued to marvel at each other when Dean cleared his throat again. Meg turned to him, annoyed. “Dude, cover your mouth.”
“Yeah, um, I’m sorry, Meg,” I said, turning to Dean and Ellie who watched on expectantly. “This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean and my sister, Ellie.”
Meg raised her eyebrows slightly, “These are your siblings?”
“So, you’ve heard of me?” Dean smirked.
Meg nodded, “Oh, yeah. I’ve heard of you. Nice—the way you treat your brother like luggage.” Dean scrunched his eyebrows together as she turned to Ellie. “And how you’ve always blindly followed him. Must be something else to grow up into that.”
Dean squinted, “Sorry?”
“Why don’t you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God’s green earth.”
Ellie opened and closed her mouth, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“Meg, it’s alright,” I interrupted.
We stood in silence as we all looked at each other before Dean let out a whistle, “Okay, awkward. I’m gonna get a drink now.”
“And I’m gonna hustle some pool, if you don’t mind. Don’t wanna be a blind follower, right Sam?” Ellie said before turning toward the pool table.
Meg hesitated, letting down her walls now that we were alone again, “Sam, I’m sorry. It’s just—the way you told me they treat you...if it were me, I’d kill them.”
“It’s alright. They mean well,” I said.
“Well, we should hook up while you’re in town.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll show you a hell of a time.”
I laughed, pulling out my phone, “You know what, that sounds great. Why don’t you, uh—why don’t you give me your number?”
“312-555-0143.”
I typed it into the phone, saving her contact, “You know what, I never got your last name.”
“Masters.”
“Masters?”
“So, you better call.”
I smiled slightly, “Scout’s Honor.”
She smiled back, “I hope to see you around, Sam.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Who the hell was she?” Ellie asked, her and Dean following close behind me after we left the bar, coming out onto the busy sidewalk.
“I don’t really know. I only met her once,” I said. The whole situation seemed off to me. “Meeting up with her again? I don’t know, it’s weird.”
“And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitching about me to some chick?” Dean said this time as we walked back toward the car.
“Look, I’m sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that’s not important, just listen—"
“Well, is there any truth to what she’s saying?” Ellie asked. “I mean, are we keeping you against your will, Sam?”
“No, of course not. Now, would you listen?” I said, coming to stand in front of the two of them, stopping them in the middle of the sidewalk. “I think there’s something strange going on here.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. She wasn’t even that into me,” Dean said.
“No, man, I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead.”
Ellie furrowed her eyebrows, “Why do you say that?”
I felt the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach again as I thought about it, “I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don’t think that’s a little weird?”
Dean and Ellie seemed to be considering it before Ellie shrugged, “I don’t know, random coincidence? It happens.”
“Yeah, it happens, but not to us,” I said. “Look, I could be wrong, I’m just saying that there’s something about this girl that I can’t quite put my finger on.”
“Well, I bet you’d like to,” Dean smirked, making Ellie and I roll our eyes. “I mean, maybe she’s not a suspect, maybe you’ve got a thing for her, huh? Maybe you’re thinking a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?”
I couldn’t deny that back when Meg and I first met, I really thought there could be something between us. Now, I’m not so sure. “Do me a favor. Check and see if there’s really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can’t dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith’s floor.”
“What are you gonna do?” Ellie asked.
I hesitated, looking back over my shoulder toward the bar, “I’m gonna watch Meg.”
Dean laughed, breaking out in a wild grin, “Yeah, you are.”
“I just wanna see what’s what. Better safe than sorry,” I said.
Dean slapped my chest, “Alright, you little pervert.”
“Dude-”
“We’re going, we’re going,” Ellie said, grabbing Dean by the jacket and pulling him toward the direction of the motel.
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I sat in the Impala outside Meg’s apartment, squinting through the rain toward the window of the uppermost floor where I’d seen her walk by numerous times. My entire plan was starting to feel kind of insane. I was watching a girl in her home from the car off of a hunch that maybe there could be something, not normal, here.
My phone rang next to me, Dean’s name coming up on the caller I.D. I flipped the phone open, glancing up at Meg’s window, “Hey.”
“Let me guess. You’re lurking outside that poor girl’s apartment, aren’t you?”
“No…” I said, Dean’s end of the line silent. “Yes.”
Dean snorted, “You’ve got a funny way of showing your affection.”
“Did you guys find anything on her or what?”
“Sorry, man, she checks out. There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phonebook. I even pulled up her high school photo,” Dean said. I nodded, slightly relieved that it was just my paranoia getting the better of me. “Now, look, why don’t you go knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?”
I rolled my eyes, “What about the symbol? Any luck?”
“Yeah, that we did have some luck with. It’s, uh—turns out it’s Zora…Zorr-what?”
I could hear Ellie in the background, repeating the word over and over for Dean before I heard them arguing and then Ellie’s voice coming through the other end, “It’s Zoroastrian. Very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It’s a sigil for a Daeva.”
“What’s a Daeva?”
“It translates to ‘demon of darkness’. Zoroastrian demons, and they’re savage, animalistic, you know, nasty attitudes—kind of like demonic pit bulls.”
I raised my eyebrows, “How’d you figure that out?”
“Give me some credit, man. You don’t have a corner on paper chasing around here,” Dean said in the background of the call.
“Oh, yeah? Name the last book you read.”
Dean hesitated, “No, I called dad’s friend, Caleb. He told me, alright? Anyway, here’s the thing—these Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured.”
I looked back up to Meg’s apartment, “So, someone’s controlling it?”
“Yeah and, from what we gathered, it’s pretty risky business, too,” Ellie said. “These things tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos.”
“So, what do they look like?”
“Well, nobody knows, but nobody’s seen them for a couple of millennia. I mean, summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we’ve got a major player in town,” Dean said this time, taking the phone back. “Now, why don’t you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?”
“You’re so weird, Dean!” Ellie yelled.
“Bite me,” I said.
“No, bite her. Don’t leave teeth marks, though just enough to where you—”
I hung up the phone, rolling my eyes as I threw it onto the seat next to me. I was glad that Meg wasn’t someone we had to worry about, but somewhere deep down I still felt like there was something strange about her. I continued to sit in the car, watching as Meg walked by the window wearing only a pair of jeans and her bra. I shifted in my seat, looking down the road before looking back up to her window as she threw a shirt over her head.
The sound of someone clearing their throat next to me made me nearly jump out of my skin. A woman watched me through the passenger window, her eyebrows raised as her eyes flicked up to Meg in the window.
I quickly sat up, raising my eyebrows at what she thought I’d been doing, “Oh, no, no, no, I’m just—"
“Pervert.”
I watched with wide eyes as the woman walked on, shaking her head but the sound of the apartment front door opening and closing made me duck down into the front seat. I waited as I listened for Meg’s footsteps to get farther and farther away before I slowly sat up, catching as she walked around the corner of the street.
I quickly slid out of the car, cringing at the squeaky hinges as I followed Meg around the corner. I stayed back, ducking into each alley I could before making it to the next one. I followed her nearly two blocks until she stopped at what could’ve easily been mistaken for a brick wall. I watched as she pulled it open, stepping inside.
I ran up after her, the sign on the door making me raise my eyebrows, the words ‘WARNING! CONDEMED’ looking back at me. Yeah, there was definitely something going on.
Slowly, I pulled the door open leading me to a long hallway with doors on either side. I glanced at each door before making it to the end, a set of stairs leading up to a tall black door. I jiggled the doorknob, sighing at the sight of the keypad, not even anything I could use a lockpick on.
I turned, desperately searching for any other option when my eyes landed on what looked like a barred cage. I stepped toward it, sliding the door open as I looked around the elevator shaft, sans elevator. I gripped the bars, shaking them slightly to assess if they’d be able to hold my weight. I knew at this point, I really only had one other option.
I pulled myself up the elevator shaft, peeking into each floor before moving up to the next and then, at the third floor, I could hear someone talking. I panted, pulling myself up to see over the floor as Meg walked toward a table littered with candles and golden cups. She picked up one of the cups that was engraved with the faces of screaming people. I watched as she dipped her finger into whatever was inside, swirling it around the cup.
She recited something, an incantation I’d never heard before. I watched as she pulled her finger away, the tip of it covered in dark blood as she brought the cup closer to her face.
”I don’t think you should come,” Meg said into the cup. “Because the Winchesters, they’re in town, I didn’t know that-” Meg paused as if someone, or something, had cut her off. “Yes, sir. Yes, I’ll be here…waiting for you.”
Meg set the cup back onto the table before blowing out the candles and leaving the room again. I grunted, my arms shaking with the effort to hold my weight on the elevator shaft. I shimmied along the grate, pulling myself up and onto the third floor.
I slowly walked toward the table Meg had been at, glancing over my shoulder to make sure she was really gone. I inspected the table, taking note of the bones, hearts, a brain, and cups of blood surrounding one symbol: the symbol of a Zoroastrian demon.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I pushed the motel room door open, nearly falling inside as I ran in, Dean and Ellie instantly jumping up from the table they’d been sitting at.
“Dude, I gotta talk to you,” we all said in unison.
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Ellie’s POV
“So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?” Dean said as he came from the bathroom after Sam had told us what’d happened.
“Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing.”
“So, Sammy’s got a thing for the bad girl,” Dean smirked. “And what’s the deal with that bowl again?”
“She was talking into it. The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone.”
I squinted in confusion, “With who? With the Daeva?”
Sam shook his head as he sat down at the end of the bed, “No, you said those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who’s giving her orders. Someone who’s coming to that warehouse.”
It took nearly ten seconds before things seemed to automatically click in my brain, making me quickly open dad’s journal, realization rolling over me in waves, “Holy crap.”
Sam came to stand over my shoulder as Dean stood next to me, his palms on the table, “What?”
“What I was gonna tell you earlier—Dean pulled a favor with his…friend, Amy, over at the police department,” I said, making Dean wiggle his eyebrows. “The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time.”
Sam looked between Dean and I, “What?”
Dean pulled one of the records from the stack, sliding it toward Sam, “The first victim, the old man—he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn’t born here. Look where he was born.”
Sam squinted at the record, his eyes widening slightly in shock, “Lawrence, Kansas.”
“Mmhmm,” I said. “Meredith, second victim—turns out she was adopted. And guess where she’s from.”
“Holy crap,” Sam agreed as he looked to Dean. “I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That’s where everything started. So, you think Meg’s tied up with the demon?”
“I think it’s a definite possibility.”
Sam shook his head as he sat in the chair next to me, “But I don’t understand. What’s the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?”
“Beats me,” Dean shrugged. “But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation.”
“No, we can’t. We shouldn’t tip her off. We’ve gotta stake out that warehouse. We’ve gotta see who, or what, is showing up to meet her,” Sam said.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” I began to close the journal, my hand resting on its cover. “I don’t think we should do this alone.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sam and I each carried a duffle bag filled with every weapon we could fit from the car and into the bags before taking them back into the motel room. Dean was sitting on the end of the bed, talking into his phone.
“We think we’ve got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse—it’s 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can,” Dean shut the phone, bringing his fist up to rest against his lips.
“Voicemail?” I asked, setting the bag on the bed.
“Yeah,” he said, standing. “Geez, what’d you get?”
“We ransacked that trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions,” Sam said. “I’m not sure what to expect, so we guess we should just expect everything.”
The three of us each pulled our guns from the duffle bag, loading them in silence. My eyes bounced up to Sam and then to Dean as they made it a point not to make eye contact with each other.
“Big night,” I said, cocking the gun, trying to start up a conversation.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed, looking to Dean. “You nervous?”
“No,” Dean said immediately, looking down at the gun. “Why, are you?”
“No. No way,” Sam said, the room drowning in silence again as we worked. “God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, alright?”
“I know. I’m just saying, what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight?” Sam said. The prospect of it was comforting, the fact that this could be the moment they’d spent their whole lives walking toward. “Man, I’d sleep for a month. Go back to school—be a person again.”
“You wanna go back to school?” I asked.
“Yeah, once we’re done hunting the thing.”
Dean loaded another gun, “Huh.”
Sam paused, looking up at him, “Why, is there something wrong with that?”
I watched Dean as I strapped a blade holster to the inside of my arm. I knew this Dean. This Dean was holding something back. He hesitated, flipping his gun over in his hands, “No. No, it’s, uh, great. Good for you.”
“I mean, what are you gonna do when it’s all over?” Sam asked.
Dean shook his head, “It’s never gonna be over. There’s gonna be others. There’s always gonna be something to hunt.”
“But there’s got to be something that you want for yourself—"
“Yeah, I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over, Sam.”
Sam and I watched as Dean turned away from us, resting his palms on the dresser, his head hanging low. I took a step toward him, “Dean, what’s wrong?”
I watched Dean’s back rise and fall heavily before turning back to Sam and I, “Why do you think I drag you everywhere?” Dean asked me before looking to Sam. “Why do you think I came and got you at Stanford?”
“Well, you’re kind of stuck with me,” I said, not understanding where Dean was going with this.
“‘Cause dad was in trouble,” Sam said. “‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed mom.”
“Yes, that, but it’s more than that,” Dean turned away from us again. “You two, me and dad—I mean, I want us...I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again.”
My heart broke, “Dean, we are a family. Not a very functional one, but…but we’re a family.”
“I’d do anything for you,” Sam said. “For both of you. But things will never be the way they were before.”
I watched as Dean’s eyes began to glint slightly, “Could be.”
“I don’t want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever,” Sam said. “When this is all over, you’re gonna have to let me go my own way.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sam led us up the elevator shaft he said he’d taken the day before where he saw Meg do the incantation. I followed close behind Dean, the three of us pulling ourselves up onto the third floor, keeping a close eye on Meg who was reciting something into a bowl. Sam held a gun out toward her as Dean helped me up from the elevator shaft.
We quietly rounded the corner around the room, hiding behind a stack of crates. Sam kept his gun trained on her as Dean handed me my gun from the weapons bag.
“Guys. Hiding’s a little bit childish, don’t you think?” Meg said without turning to us.
We glanced at each other, Dean tightening his grip on the shotgun, “Well, that didn’t work out like I planned.”
“Why don’t you come out?” Meg said. We stood, our guns raised toward her as we slowly walked toward her, Meg meeting us halfway across the room. “Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship.”
Sam scoffed, “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“So, where’s your little Daeva friend?” Dean asked.
Meg smirked, “Around. You know, that shotgun’s not gonna do much good.”
“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” Dean said. “The shotgun’s not for the demon.”
“So, who is it, Meg?” I asked, Meg’s eyes falling on me. “Who’s coming? Who are you waiting for?”
Meg’s mouth twisted into an even wider grin, her eyes bouncing between the three of us, “You.”
We had barely any time to process what was happening when we were thrown across the room, all of us in different directions. I fell against the cement floor, gasping at the impact as something invisible dugs its nails into my hip bone, dragging all the way down to my knee. I groaned in pain, catching a glimpse of the Daeva just before it knocked me out cold.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
My eyes felt like they were glued shut as I came back to. I squinted against the little light in the room, desperately trying to ignore the pain that radiated down my leg and the blossoming bruise I knew I had over my left eye.
I pulled against the rope that tied me to a column. I dragged my eyes over to Sam and Dean who were sitting silently in front of Meg, “Hey, Sam? Don’t take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend’s a bitch.”
“This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearing what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn’t it?” Sam said and Meg only chuckled. “And that the victims were from Lawrence?
She laughed, “It doesn’t mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that’s all.”
“You killed those two people for nothing.”
“Baby, I’ve killed a lot more for a lot less.”
“You trapped us. Good for you,” Dean said. “It’s Miller time. But why don’t you kill us already?”
“Not very quick on the uptake, are we?” Meg said, leaning forward in her chair. “This trap isn’t for you.”
I squinted at her, racking my brain for anyone or anything that this could be a trap for. The one thing that would come running once she called that she had us. Only one thing kept coming to my mind, over and over again like a broken record.
“Dad,” I said, making Sam and Dean look to me in confusion. “It’s a trap for dad.”
Dean scoffed, but I could tell even from here his heart was at his feet. “Oh, sweetheart—you’re dumber than you look. 'Cause even if dad was in town, which he’s not, he wouldn’t walk into something like this. He’s too good.”
Meg smiled, standing from her chair before stopping in front of Dean, “He is pretty good. I’ll give you that.” She kicked Dean’s legs apart, squatting down in front of him. She tugged on Dean’s jacket. “But you see, he has one weakness.”
“Yeah?” Dean said. “What’s that?”
“You,” Meg said. “He lets his guard down around his kiddos, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he’ll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody—nice and slow…and messy.”
“Well, I’ve got news for you,” I said, making Meg look to me in annoyance. “It’s gonna take a lot more than some...shadow to kill him.”
“Oh, the Daevas are in the room here—they’re invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see.”
“Why are you doing this, Meg?” Sam asked this time. “What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?”
“I’m doing this for the same reasons you do what you do—loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for mommy—and Jess.”
Sam grimaced, “Go to hell.”
“Baby, I’m already there,” she smirked as she crawled toward Sam. “Come one, Sam. There’s no need to be nasty.” She leaned in close to his ear as her hands roamed his chest. “I think we both know how you really feel about me.” She bit her lip, straddling his hips. “You know, I saw you watching me…changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn’t it?”
Dean groaned, “Get a room, you two.”
“I didn’t mind. I liked that you were watching me,” Meg said, running her hands through his hair. “Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun.”
I began to pull on the ropes when a sharp pain came from my inner arm. I felt around my sleeve, nearly crying with joy at the blade I’d forgotten I strapped there. I shimmied it down my arm, keeping one eye on Meg.
“You wanna have fun?” Sam said once he’d realized what I was doing. “Go ahead then. I’m a little tied up right now.”
Meg began to kiss Sam’s neck, her hands roaming under his shirt. I worked faster, trying to get the blade from out of my sleeve when suddenly, the blade fumbled from my hands before clattering to the floor. I watched, wide-eyed as Meg snapped her head toward me. She stood, coming behind me as she plucked the blade off of the floor and then throwing it across the room.
She came inches from my face, but I only chuckled, silently cursing myself.
Meg quickly went back to Sam, sitting back down on his lap. “Now, were you just trying to distract me while your sister cuts free?”
“No,” Sam said. “No. That’s because I have a knife of my own.”
Then, Sam’s hands broke free, grabbing Meg at her arms and slamming his forehead against hers, sending her backwards. Sam groaned, holding his head.
“Sam! Get the altar!” Dean said as Sam struggled to his feet, going to the alter and flipping the entire thing over.
Meg watched with wide eyes as the Daevas flew into the room, their shadows prominent against the far wall. Sam, Dean and I watching as the Daevas grabbed Meg by her ankles, pulling her straight out of the tall glass windows.
Sam quickly picked up his blade, cutting Dean and I free, “Can you walk?”
“I’m fine,” I said, limping after them toward the broken window, looking down to where Meg laid on the sidewalk.
“So, I guess the Daevas didn’t like being bossed around,” Sam said.
“Yeah, I guess not,” Dean said. “Hey, Sam? Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that’s not so buckets of crazy.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Once we get in there, we gotta stitch that up,” Dean said to me, motioning to my thigh as we slowly made our way down the hallway toward the motel room.
I waved him off, “I’ve had worse.”
Dean unlocked the door to the motel room, shocking Sam and I as he whipped his gun out, pointing it across the room, “Hey!” He shouted at the dark shadow that stood next to the motel window. I instantly flicked the light on, watching as the figure slowly turned toward us, my heart leaping into my throat at the sight of who we’d been looking for for months. “Dad?”
“Hey, kids,” dad smiled, tears in his eyes. Dean immediately met him in the middle of the room, throwing his arms around him. Dad clapped Dean on the shoulder before pulling away.
I nearly ran to him, wrapping my arms around his middle. He rested his cheek on top of my head, squeezing my shoulders. “I missed you, dad.”
He squeezed me tighter before pulling away, moving the hair from my face, “I missed you, too.” Dad looked from me and up to Sam, smiling softly. “Hi, Sam.”
“Hey, dad,” Sam said, shock still on his face.
“Dad, it was a trap. I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” Dean said.
“It’s alright. I thought it might’ve been.”
I watched him in confusion, awe and mainly, relief. “Were you there?”
Dad nodded, looking to each of us as if he were trying to memorize our faces, “Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?”
“Yes, sir,” the three of us said in unison.
Dad smiled, but it almost looked sad, “Good. Well, it doesn’t surprise me. It’s tried to stop me before.”
“The demon has?” Sam asked.“It knows I’m close. It knows I’m gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell—actually kill it,” dad said.
“How?”
Dad smirked, “I’m working on that.”
“Let us come with you,” Sam said, earning a warning look from Dean. “We’ll help.”
“No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand,” dad said. “This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don’t want you caught in a crossfire. I don’t want you hurt.”
“Dad, you don’t have to worry about us.”
“Of course I do. I’m your father,” dad paused, tears beginning to well up in his eyes again as he took in Sam who he hadn’t seen in the better part of two years. “Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam said. From where I stood, I could see him fighting off tears.
“It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time.”
“Too long.”
The two of them watched each other in silence before dad pulled Sam in for a hug, the two of them gripping each other tightly. I finally began to feel like we were starting to be a family again.
Our reunion with dad was quickly cut short when dad pulled away and was flying across the motel room into the wall across from us, the shadows of the Daveas coming from the windows. I watched as the Daevas sunk five large claws into Sam’s shoulder before throwing me to the floor, swiping them across my face.
Dad screamed from the other side of the room, the Daevas clawing into dad. Every time Sam, Dean or I tried to stand to get to him we were only dropped to the floor again. I screamed as I felt the claws across my sides and over my face again.
“Shut your eyes!” Sam yelled from the other side of the room, pulling something from his duffel back that was sitting on the floor. “These things are shadow demons, so let’s light ‘em up!”
Sam lit the flare, throwing it into the middle of the room, the Daevas instantly dispersing. I slowly dragged myself to my feet, covering my mouth from the smoke that quickly began to fill the room.
Dean slung one of dad’s arms around his shoulder, hoisting him off the ground as they lead the way out of the motel.
I gagged against the smoke that seemed to be clouding my lungs the longer we stayed in the room, my leg and side begging me to stay still for just a few minutes, but we kept on pushing, straight outside to the Impala.
I swallowed in the fresh air, panting by the time we’d made it to the car. Sam pulled the passenger door open, “Alright, come on. We don’t have much time. As soon as the flare’s out, they’ll be back.”
“Wait, wait, wait! Sam, wait,” Dean said as he looked to dad. “Dad, you can’t come with us.”
I widened my eyes, “What? What are you talking about?”
“You three—you’re beat to hell.”
“We’ll be alright.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After months of doing everything we could to find dad, taking Sam from Stanford, following every kind of lead we could in the hopes that maybe it would lead us to dad. I would be damned if now that we found him, we let him go just like that. “Dean! We should stick together! We’ll go after those demons—"
“Ellie! Listen to me!” Dean nearly shouted. “We almost got dad killed in there. Don’t you understand? They’re not gonna stop. They’re gonna try again. They’re gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad’s vulnerable when he’s with us. He…he’s stronger without us around.”
“Dad—no,” Sam said this time, gripping dad’s shoulder. “After everything-- after all the time we spent looking for you—please. I gotta be a part of this fight.
“Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you’ve got to trust me, son…you’ve gotta let me go,” he said, looking to each of us. I clenched my fists in anger. “Be careful, kids.”
Sam, Dean and I watched as dad pulled open the door to the red truck parked in front of the Impala. We watched as he drove away, leaving the three of us behind in his rearview mirror.
I swallowed roughly, shaking my head, willing my tears not to fall as I watched dad slip through our fingers for a second time. I pulled the back door open, “Lets go.”
Sam and Dean followed me into the car, silently driving away in the opposite direction of where dad had gone. I tried not to think too hard about where we’d go next, what it would take for us to find dad again, or all the things we’d come in between.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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gravitysanchez-blog · 3 years ago
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TOURIST RICK-ED - a sanchez falls au fic
It’s finally done! I admit, I took way too long on this (since, like...last year. lol) but I’m really happy the way it turned out and how I established the base dynamics in this. 
If you’ve never heard of the Sanchez Falls AU, I can’t blame you: check it out here. If you don’t want to deal with the overdescriptive, kind of cringy description, it’s basically a Rick and Morty and Gravity Falls mashup, based off the “Dipper and Mabel” Morty and Morticia easter egg. Enjoy.
Ah, summer break. A time for leisure, relaxation, and new memories. And while I can’t say much for the former two, I can say that speeding down Oregon wilderness driving a golf cart with a puking sister and a mountain of gnomes chasing me definitely applies to new memories. Now, I know at this point you have a lot of questions. I would too, so let me go back a little bit - rest assured, there’s a perfectly logical explanation for this. 
This entire mess began up in Washington, when my mom and dad finally decided to get divorced after seventeen years of arguing. Mom, trying to readjust to a life without my dad, decided we could use some fresh air and time apart from the city. So she sent me, Morty Smith, and my twin sister Morticia down to Oregon to stay with our Great-Uncle Ricardo Sanchez, in a sleepy little town called Gravity Falls. While her and our big sister Summer try to get adjusted in Seattle, me and my sister are going to try to turn our lives around here and have a good time. Oh, and one more thing. There’s a goat on my bed.
“This attic is amazing!” Morticia, in the span of three seconds that we’ve been in the room, is already busy putting up kitten posters on one wall, taking the rickety bed on the right and spilling her yellow and pink clothes all over it. She turns to me while she’s sorting out her dresses and grins. “Although I’m not sure how I feel sharing a room with a dork like you.” She stick her tongue out at me. “Funny, ‘Tish.” Fun fact: one of our many running jokes between us is how much of losers we are. Our only friends are pretty much each other. Morbid, I know.
“So, uh, there’s a goat on my bed,” I said, changing the subject. “Are we not going to address this?”
We both looked over at the goat. It stared back at us with its yellow, beady eyes, sprawled on the comforters as it nibbled on what I supposed was my pillow. We were silent.
“I mean, it’s a little cute,” Tish murmured, sliding off her bed. “Hi, goat friend,” she sung as she wrapped her arms around her neck. It started chomping on her pink sweater. She looked at it. “Uh, okay. You do you, goat friend.” She turned to me. “He’s soft.”
“H-hey kids, what the fuck are you doing up there?”
And that’s my Great-Uncle Ricardo Sanchez. We call him Rick for short. What a guy. He was to transform his house into some tourist trap that he called “The Mystery Shack”. The real mystery was why anybody wanted to come to a tourist attraction in a town with a population of 300 people. But they did, and guess who had to work there.
Tish looked over at the doorway, still hugging the goat. She was a little scared of Rick, I could tell. We both were. He was loud, rude, vulgar, and most of the time drunk. Why my mother had the bright idea that he would be a good guardian for the summer was beyond both of us.
His feet clanked up the stairs, and as he appeared in the doorway with his tie loose, he stared at both of us. “Kids, aren’t you supposed to be taking care of the gift shop?”
“T-t-there’s a goat on my bed.”
He stared down at me, and I swallowed.
“What, Gompers? He’s fine. Fuckin goat does what it wants. Doesn’t hurt anybody.” He pulled a flask from his suit and took a swig. “I’ll take him down if you stop giving me that pathetic look, though. God.”  
I shifted my eyes to the ground. This summer was supposed to be all about good vibes, but what good vibes were we going to get working in a gift shop for an alcoholic uncle?
Tish got up, patting her knees. “I think Gompers likes me.”
“Gompers likes anyone that has something he can eat. W-w-why don’t you take him down, if you like him so much. Your brother can go down and work the gift shop until you’re done. Cuz you know what I like? Money.”
Tish sighed, getting up. “You’re no fun,” she said, but Rick had already stumbled downstairs. I groaned as I got up and followed him. Both of us had been hoping that maybe we could get away from the wreck that was our lives in a completely new place, and actually make something of an awesome summer. So far we’ve got a random goat on my bed and an alcoholic, rude uncle who uses his relatives for free labor. Not adding up very well.
Then, something happened.
It didn’t start off very exciting. Kind of boring.
I was cleaning the gift shop while my sister Tish hid behind the merch shelf, having a mental breakdown peeping at some guy. “He’s so cute! Gosh, I should talk to him, shouldn’t I? Wait, but what if I do something, Morty? What if I mess up an-and trip and he thinks I’m a klutz? What if he thinks my socks are stupid? Oh, jeez, why did I only bring my blue socks this is a disaster, why couldn’t I just have brought white socks like a normal person-”
“Tish, I know you’re going th-through your boy-crazy, teenage-hormones phase, but you’re going a little too far on the crazy part. Calm down. Jeez.” “What?” She rolled her eyes and turned to me. “Come on, Morty, this is our first summer away from home! If I’m going to make this summer worth something, I have to at least have one sweet summer romance.”
Girls. “Yeah, but do you need to obsess over every guy you meet?” Just a couple days ago, she hid behind a huddle of balloons and crushed on the mattress-sale guy. If that wasn’t borderline crazy, I didn’t know what was.
She shrugged. “Mock all you want, Morty, but I got a good feeling about this summer. Great things are going to happen!” She turned to me with a smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy of my dreams walked through that door right-”
“Morty, Girl Morty!” Rick stomped in, wiping the drool from his chin and adjusting his hat. Trying to look professional, I guess. That’s how he got people. He was incredible at playing the mystic Mr. Mystery and the humble Uncle Rick to our mom. Live with him, and you see his true colors.
Tish slid back over to the counter, watching him as he crossed his arms in the doorway. “Alright, kids, look alive! I need-” he belched “-I need someone to hammer these signs, hammer ‘em in the woods up there. It’ll be great, get in business or whatever.”
“Not it!”
“Not it!” my sister almost shrieked.
“Not it!” Rick’s handyman, Soos, stood up on a ladder behind us hammering in a shelf.
“Soos, nobody-nobody fuckin’ asked you.” He turned away. “Jessica! I need you to put  up these signs.”
Our red-headed cashier of the shack groaned, shifting her feet on the counter. “I mean, I would, Mr. Sanchez, but you know, I’m a small, fragile woman. I can’t handle the woods, I might eaten by a scary bear.”
“J-j-jessica, your family are literally all loggers.”
“Yeah, but I’m a woman-”
“Okay, okay, shut up. Jesus Christ, I would literally, fucking, fire all of you if I could,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. He turned to me suddenly. “Alright, Morty, go put up these signs. You’re, uh, you’re a man. I think.”
“Aw, I’m a man too!” Soos grumbled from his ladder. I wholeheartedly agreed with him. Rick decided to ignore Soos, and shoved the signs into my arms. “Chop-chop, Morty.”
“Oh-oh jeez, Rick, seriously? Those woods are creepy! Every time-every time I go in them, I feel like I’m being, I don’t know, watched, or something.” I almost cringed at Rick’s gaze glaring down at me. I probably did.
Rick rolled his eyes. “Ugh, this again. Look, Morty, I know you’re an anxious, whiny little teenager, but seriously. There’s no monsters or anything “paranormal” in this town. For god’s sake, it’s a bunch of rednecks and-and...country people out here.”
“H-hey, just today, my mosquito bites spelled out ‘Beware’! You...you can’t deny that, Rick!” I put my arm up so he could see, and he squinted down at the words.
“You know, to be fair, I am incredibly drunk right now, but I’m pretty sure that says Bewarb.” I looked down, and to be honest he was right. “You need to calm your tits, Morty.” He straightened up, almost falling backwards. “Li-listen, this whole ‘monsters in the forest’ thing is just local legend, made up so that your Great-Uncle Rick can make a shit ton of money and pay off the mortgage of this dump, alright? So quit being a pussy and put up those goddamn signs.” On that note, he walked out of the shop.
Joy.
“Great-Uncle Rick never takes anything I say seriously,” I grumbled, hammering sings on various trees. Nobody was going to see this stupid things, anyway, and even if someone did, they’d probably be too creeped out to be interested. I swear, sometimes Rick just makes us do these things to be an asshole for fun-
CLANG
Struck out of my thoughts, I stared at the tree in front of me, the nail between my fingers. Cautiously, I took the hammer and struck the nail again, pressing my ear to the bark this time.
CLANG. CLANG.
“...what the hell?”
On the side of my arm, I suddenly noticed a groove in the bark. I dropped my hammer and nail, shoving my fingers into the groove and started wrenching it back. The metal dug into my fingers as I pried it away, falling to the ground with a thud.
There was a mechanical box sitting inside the tree, dials and tubes and switches, all covered in dust and cobwebs in the opening. I sat there for a moment in shock. This was real. Not like the Bewarb thing, not like Rick’s stupid mystery shack. This was something mysterious, something weird.
I flipped a dial. Nothing happened. I flipped it again. Still, nothing happened, I flipped another one. Nothing happened-
“MAAA!”
I jumped, whipping around. Behind me, Gompers the Goat, sweater-and-bed-muncher, jumped away from me and into the woods. I stared at him for a second, before looking where he once was to find a large, gaping hole had appeared.
“What the hell?” I walked up to it, kneeling down and peering inside. I was met with dirt and cobwebs, slinging around the walls leading into an underground box. Inside, there was a large book, covered with more dirt and spiderwebs.
Well, wasn’t that just mysterious.
I dug my hands under the book, cobwebs sticking to my arms, and pulled it out, getting more cobwebs and grime off the book and onto my shirt. It was made of some sort of dyed blue leather, a six fingered hand on the cover with a 3 written in the middle. The whole thing reeked of some fantastical mystery - and mold.
I flipped open the book on the ground, peeling away the rough pages. The title page was torn, “Property of” on the top middle, but cut off. Mysterious. I picked the book up closer to my face and turned the page.
June 18 - it’s hard to believe it’s been six years since I started investigating the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls - I looked back up. This had to be a joke, right? I mean, yeah, the bewarb thing was a little weird, and certainly a mechanical tree isn’t normal at all, but seriously? This was too unreal. Great-Uncle Rick just said it was all a scam. Rick also might have been too drunk to really notice anything substantial, though.
I couldn’t stop flipping through the book, my mind nearly blown with drawings and descriptions of cool and creepy monsters - Floating Eyeballs, Giant Vampire Bats (fun!), gnomes, cursed doors. Each page was a whole new crazy thing.
I kept mindlessly flipping, taking it all in. It had to be true, I thought. Why would someone go out of their way to hide all of this? Not to mention write it. I kept flipping, until my eyes caught something large and bolded, scratched in the middle of a page. TRUST NO ONE “Unfortunately, my suspicions have been confirmed. I’m being watched by that son of a bitch! I have to hide this book before he finds it. Remember, in Gravity Falls, there is no one you can trust.” What? “No one you can trust?” Absently, I closed the book. What did he mean, he was being watched? Who was “he”? At first, this seemed cool, but everything was starting to get a little more scarier…
“Morty! There you are!”
“Ah!” I dropped the book, whipping around to see Tish right behind me, leaning on a stump. “Thank god, I just escaped Rick and was looking for you. So what about this “no one you can trust” thing you said to yourself in the middle of the woods?”
“Uh…” I shoved the book with my foot under a log. “Ah, i-i-i-it’s nothing! D-d-do-don’t worry about it. Just, you know. Uh. Me.” I grinned.
She folded her arms, looking over my shoulder. “Wow, didn’t expect you to take that so seriously. Did you just push a book under that log? What are you hiding?”
“Tish!” I looked around. The goat was back, and had pulled the book under the log. He was chewing happily on the cover. “I’ll...I’ll show you. Can we go somewhere private?”
Back in the shack, I paced the living room. “Tish, it’s insane! Rick said I was being paranoid, but according to this book I found in the woods, Gravity Falls has this totally cool, awesome, kind of scary dark side!” I flipped to the Floating Eyes page, showing it to her. “Look at this, Tish!”
“What? You’re kidding me, right? This is a joke.”
I paced around again. “No, I’m not joking. But get this, Tish. At some point, the pages just, like, stop. Like the guy who was writing it mysteriously disappeared. There’s even this page where the author says something about someone watching him and having to hide the books, and it’s just all...crazy!” This was not what I was expecting this summer, but even though it was pretty scary this was much better than any boring summer working for an alcoholic great uncle.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang, loud and clear. “Who is that?” Who would be visiting Rick? The bartender? Who could even stand to be around him and know him personally for even five minutes? “Well,” Tish looked down, wringing her hands and grinning. “I might...I might have got a date.”
What.
“Let me get this straight. You, the other socially awkward half of me,who has no friends and can barely talk to a guy without tripping over her own shoes, and is worried about the color of her socks got a boyfriend in the half-hour that I was gone? You’ve never had a boyfriend in your life!”
Tish fell back on Rick’s easy chair. “What can I say, brother? I guess it’s just...summer lovin’ up in the air!”
“Tish, please never say that again.”
The doorbell rang again, and Tish sprang up, running a hand over her hair. Flashes of anxiety and excitement were clear on her face. “Uh, c-c-coming!”
Joy. I sat up on the couch, crouching over the book. Honestly, who cared about Tish’s new boyfriend? And her expanding social life that apparently was going a lot better than mine? Because of this book, I was having one of the most exciting days of my life. Eye-bats!
“W-w-what’cha reading there, buddy?”
Quickly, I shoved the book out of site. “Uhh, just, uh, just, ca-catching up on-” I grabbed a magazine from the side table and read the cover - “uh, Playboy for Silver Foxes?” Immediately, I regretted being born as my eyes hit a forty year old woman strip teasing on the cover. I wanted to drench my face in bleach.
His unibrow raised up at me in suspicion, but he shrugged it off as he pulled his flask out of his back pocket and took a swig. “Although I’d like to know how those got out of my room.”
Oh, jeez. “H-hey, I-”
“Hi, Grunkle - uh, Great-Uncle Rick, Morty. This is-this is my new boyfriend!” Mabel popped in the doorway, discreetly trying to hide the sweat coming down her forehead, grinning widely as she pulled someone’s arm from the hallway. The guy that immediately popped in looked like some of the emo kids from school - dark hoodie, crazy eyeliner, creepy glare.
“Sup,” said the emo dude.
“Uh, hi.”
“We met at a graveyard, and omigosh he was so poetic and deep it was so beautiful-” Tish started gushing as she clung onto his arm, looking up at him. “Is...is that muscle?” She looked back at me with a grin.
Rick stared back at the guy, his unibrow raised. “So, uh...how you doing?”
The guy’s eyes seized up as they started darting around the room. “Uh...uh...norm-normal!” he nearly shrieked. “Normal...man!” Rick stayed silent as he stared at the guy, taking another swig from his flask.
“Good for you, buddy.”
“H-h-he means Norman,” Tish said dreamily, leaning into him. “That’s his name.”
Rick looked at me. For once, I had to agree with the crazy son of a bitch - this was weird.
“So...uh,” Norman took a step back, and Tish nearly stumbled. “Do you, uh, wanna, go and uh, hold hands or something?”
“Oh, that would be amazing,” Tish murmured, leaning into him more than I thought possible and dreamily taking his hand.
Rick rolled his eyes, flopping next to me on the couch. “Oh my god, shut up already. Jesus Christ, you’re going to make me sick.” He picked up the remote and started flipping channels. “Don’t you two have a date or something?”
“Oh, silly me!” Tish started dragging Norman out of the hallway. “I’ll see you guys tonight!”
As they left, Rick leaned over to me. “Morty, if you take anything from me, do yourself a favor and don’t get wrapped up in that shit. Focus on money. It’ll get you a lot farther than that pointless, annoying crap.”
Says the man with Playboy for Silver Foxes, I though. I decided to ignore that, though. Norman was the main thing on my mind right now, and he was just way too creepy and weird for me to get my mind off of him. No wonder Tish got a boyfriend, if that was the selection. “So, uh, Rick, w-what did you think of Norman.”
“Morty, do you honestly think I actually give a shit?” He straightened up, flipping channels again. “All that shit is to me is annoying garbage that never did anyone any good. Now, what isn’t garbage,” he turned and grinned to me, putting down the remote, “is reality television, Morty. At least it gives you pleasure in your day with no bullshit.”
The TV, in front of me, was portraying an episode of National Geographic, far from reality TV. A mother tiger was taking care of her young.
I got up, discreetly hiding the journal under my shirt and shuffling to the other room. “Uh, okay, Rick. You do that”
“Damn right I will, Morty!” he shouted out before I left.
In the other attic, I curled up on the corner of the wall, flipping through pages. “More eye-bats, gnomes, gnomes…” Suddenly, my eye caught on a page. “Zombies? Those actually exist?” I curled up tighter, hunching over and bringing my eyes to the page.
Known for their pale skin and bad attitudes these creatures are often mistaken for…”Teenagers?” I looked down at the illustration, and the eyes of the creature bored into me as Norman’s did, and I swore I could hear Norman’s voice come out of the drawing.
Norman was a zombie! It all made sense!
It was then that I realized Norman’s voice wasn’t coming from the illustration - it was coming from outside.
I scrambled to the window, hanging on the sill and watching in horror as Tish sat on the bench outside, giggling. Before her, Norman was stumbling towards her, arms outstretched, ready to take my sister in his jaws and rip apart her brains, and my sister was unaware that she was about to die by a zombie, and I had to do something, I had to warn her before it was too late-
“Mabel, watch out!” I shrieked, slamming my palm again the window. He put his hands on her neck. “Mabel, NO-”
He took his hands away, revealing a new daisy chain around her neck. I could see her face light up as she giggled away, batting her eyelashes at him. Okay, so he didn’t eat her brains. Zombies weren’t even real! I looked down at the book. This stupid thing was probably written as a joke or a prank.
But was it?
“Is my sister dating a zombie, or am I just going crazy?” I asked myself.
Behind me, a voice rang out. “It sure is a dilemma.”
I turned around, greeted by a familiar face. “Soos? What are you doing here?”
Soos was on a ladder again, screwing in a lightbulb. “Avoiding Rick. He’s in a bad mood right now, dude. Probably because of your sister’s date. He has a bad history with women. Anyway, I couldn’t help but overhear you talkin’ to yourself in this empty room while I was here.”
I turned my back against the window. “Honestly, Soos, how do you even stand Rick?”
Soos shrugged, getting off the ladder. “Rick’s not a totally bad guy. He’s a jerk, but not a bad guy. We have a little bit of history together, I guess. It’s a long story, dude.”
“It’s going to take a while before I believe that.” I looked back down at the book. “But, Soos, do you think Tish’s new boyfriend might be a zombie?”
Soos shrugged. “I don’t know, dude, but there’s a lot of weird things in this town. I wouldn’t doubt it. I mean, dude, the mailman has got to be a werewolf with how hairy he is. I’d say you should follow the guy and see if he eats any brains.”
For someone who says “dude” a lot more than ever should be used, he had a point. I got up. “Good point, Soos. Time to go investigating, I guess.”
So that’s how I spent my afternoon - creeping in the shadows and watching my sister go on her date with Norman. I know, I know it sounds weird and creepy, but I needed to see if this guy was really a zombie. This book might be just a prank, but it also might not. I mean, what if he did eventually try to eat my sister’s brains? That would so ruin my summer.
However, at the end of the day, I just felt stupid. I had found absolutely nothing to prove that Norman was a zombie, though I had taken ten thousand photos and videos of them. Sitting in the other attic, watching the video of them watching the sun, I groaned. I was a stupid, nervous wreck. Why did I even believe anything from some stupid book, I wondered, as I watched Norman reattach his fallen-off arm and readjust it around my sister’s shoulders.
Wait, what?
Quickly, I rewound the video. Sure enough, I witnessed my sister’s boyfriend’s arm fall off his shoulder, him look around warily before he reattached it before my sister noticed.
I was right. Norman was a zombie. Cold dread sunk into my chest. I had to do something, save her before it was too late.
“So, uh...now that we’ve been together for so long, and uh...got to know each other, there’s something I should tell you.”
Morticia and Norman were enjoying the view of the valley when Norman spoke. The girl, shook out of her love-stricken daydreams, turned towards him. A guy with secrets? That was hot. And a guy who trusted her with these secrets? This was turning out way better than she expected. She better not mess this up.
Morticia leaned towards him. “Y-y-you can tell me any-anything, Norman.” As soon as the words left her, she cringed. She hated it when her stuttering took over, and hated the fact that it usually came up the worst around someone that wasn’t her family. She was perfectly fine around Morty and her sister Summer - hell, even Rick sometimes, but one stranger could leave her a mess. She probably looked like an idiot, Norman would see she was just some loser-
“You see, I’m uh, not who you think I am,: he said, turning his head away as he stood up, fiddling with his jacket zipper. “Do you think you would still like me if, I, uh, was...different?”
Oh, jeez. THis was the part where he revealed his dark yet romantic secrets to her. Morticia was almost frozen by everything writhing through her head. Out of all the misery she faced with guys at school, this was her breakthrough, she had done it, now all she had to do was not fuck this up, she could shove his beautiful face into those cheerleading girls who called her an ugly loser-
“Morticia?”
She was struck out of her thoughts as she noticed Norman staring intently at her, his hair blowing slightly in the breeze. Shit, she had zoned out. “Y-y-yeah, sorry, sorry!” she sputtered, scrambling up. “Of course, you-you can tell me anything, Norman!”
He stared at her for what seemed like an hour. She had begun to sweat again. Oh, she had really done it this time, fucking hell-
He shrugged, and with a quick motion he unzipped his jacket to reveal...what?
She stared as his body came apart as his jacket fell off his shoulder, disassembling to reveal five or six stacked little men, with flannel and lumberjack beards and pointy hats, all grinning up at her, and she was face-to-face with them. “Surprise, we’re gnomes!” The top one cheered up at her.
Well, this certainly wasn’t the twist she was expecting, and this certainly wasn’t romantic or hot. What the hell kind of prank was this?
She sat there, frozen yet again, as the top gnome jumped down onto a log and looked up at her. “Look, here’s the thing. Our gnome queen just died, and we need a new one. You’re the perfect woman, Morticia, and we all love you. So what do you say, babe? Do you wanna marry this hot hunk and become the new gnome queen, loved by all?” As he said this, he nudged her with his elbow, tapping her hip.
All of a sudden, she wanted to run and hide in her room under her pile of sweaters and blankets. She started to back away, rubbing her arms. “LIsten, t-that’s really sweet, sweet of you guys, but, uh, I should...get back home. I don’t think this is going to work.” She turned away.
A sigh came from behind her. “I thought you might say that,” the gnome said from behind her. “Which is why we’re going to kidnap you.”
Wait, what, no-
“TISH!”
The forest around me was a blur as I bounced over logs and sticks and shrubs in the Mystery Shack golf cart, I had to find Tish, god knows what could have happened by now, she could have already been eaten, her guts spread out over a rock and Norman hunched over eating her brains, I could already be too late- “TISH! TISH!”
“MORTY!”
I stopped. “TISH, WHERE ARE YOU?” I screamed out. God, I wasn’t too late, hopefully, she hadn’t had her brains eaten yet, maybe Norman was about to crack her skull before she heard me-
“MORTY, HELP! OVER HERE!”
The yell came from my right, behind a clump of bushes and trees. I slammed on the gas pedal and shot forward, breaking sticks and branches. “Tish!” All around me, fir branches were splitting cuts into my face and arms, the cart bouncing over the debri-
As I came into a clearing, bursting out of a bush, I suddenly had to stop. When I was driving in, I had expected to see a brain-hungry Norman chasing after Tish. Instead...she was tied up and pinned to the ground with a wedding tiara on, surrounding by a crowd of tiny lumberjack men filling up the clearing. One was next to my sister Tish with a wedding ring on. “We’re trying to have a ceremony here, excuse you!” he shouted angrily at me.
I got out of the cart. “Uh, Tish, what’s going on?”
She shifted her eyes away. “Apparently Norman just ended up being a bunch of gnome jerks. They kidnapped me to enslave me as their queen or something.”
The gnome with the wedding ring in his hand laughed. “Darling, sweetie pie, don’t be so dramatic. You’re not in danger or anything, you’re just going to marry all one thousand of us for all eternity! Is that really that terrible?” Gnomes? All this time I thought Norman was a zombie, but all this time he was actually a bunch of gnomes? I grabbed the journal from my vest and flipped through it. I still didn’t understand how Norman was a bunch of gnomes, but on the plus side gnomes shouldn’t be that dangerous, right? I landed on the gnome page I saw earlier, my eyes skimming the text. “Weaknesses…”
Weaknesses: NONE
They were two feet tall, and they had no weaknesses? I looked up and stared at them. No way. There was no freaking way they were indestructible. “L-listen, you-you jerks! Let my sister go!”
The gnome laughed again, his hands on his hips. “Listen, listen, kid. We’re not going to do that. We need a queen, boy, and there’s nothing you can do to stop us! We’re a powerful race, what do you think you could do-”
CLUNK
He flopped over as I slammed the back of a shovel against his head. Thank god it had been in the back of the golf cart. I raised my weapon up, kneeling towards Tish and pulling up the ties. “Anyone wanna piece of this?”
As she scrambled up and we raced towards the cart, the gnomes started chasing towards us, waving sticks and fists. “That’s our queen! You can’t get away with her!” Tish looked back at me with a terrified look. She threw herself in the passenger seat, pulling me up to the drivers as they clambered towards us. “Go, go, Morty!”
I slammed on the gas, and we speeded off to leave the crowd of two-feet tall men in the dust. Weakness: speed. “Later, suckers!” I yelled, a rush of adrenaline going through me.
I refocused back towards the road. “I knew something was up with those guys! There was just no way you could have gotten a boyfriend that fast. I went and looked it up in the journal, and I thought he was a zombie at first, but dang, gnomes-”
“Yeah, I get it!” Tish shrieked. “Just drive!” She was turned around facing the back of the cart, and I noticed the terrified look on her face. “Shit, Morty, ju-just drive! I think they did a Voltron and made one huge, giant gnome!”
I slammed on the gas, taking a quick look behind me and she was right - I watched in horror as the gnomes climbed upon themselves in the thousands until they blocked the sun, am menacing, horrifying mass of gnomes. The thing started running towards us, the vibrations rattling the cart, getting closer and closer shit shit shit holy fuck oh jeez we’re going to die - Tish grabbed my arm. “Morty, they’re-they’re getting closer!”
I turned back towards the road. “I know!”
She was silent for a second, then “Morty-”
“I know-!”
“-MORTY, behind you!”
I got thrown against the steering wheel as a huge weight fell on my back, almost slamming my head against the dashboard. “They’re catapulting the gnomes, you idiot!” she screeched.
I reached behind me and grabbed the gnome off my back, throwing him and whacked him against the horn as he latched onto my arm, his grimy teeth chewing on my skin - jeez get off my goddamn body what the hell - until with a final smack he screeched and tumbled out of the cart, rolling in the dust like a rock. Suddenly, I couldn’t see as a gnome head took over my vision, his little gnome claws scratching my cheeks - “TISH!” - my head was thrown back into the seat with a forceful thwack. The gnome fell off, bouncing off my lap, Tish’s fists balled.
“Tish, did you just punch my face?”
“How else am I going to get the thing off?” she yelled, fingers gripping the seat as she looked behind her. Suddenly, her face went white. “Morty, look!”
I looked behind me again - at this point, if the forces that be seemed to want to obstruct my view of driving with all their power, then so be it. The monster had its hands - or gnome clusters, whatever - gripped onto a pine tree, and throwing itself back I heard the roots snap as the tree was yanked out of the ground. “He’s going to throw it at us!” Tish shrieked, ducking.
I watched, frozen in fear, as the gnome monster threw his arm back, slamming his foot against the ground and flung his arm forward. The tree was coming towards us like a rocket, my heart jumped as I saw the thing fly over us - it was going to hit the ground and block the road in front of us, we would be trapped -
I gripped the steering wheel. “Hold on!” I twisted the wheel to the right and slammed my body against Tish’s to the edge. She screamed in my ear when, with one hand holding her and the other holding the steering wheel, we flipped sideways under the falling tree. I could hear the branches slapping the side of the cart, one poking my leg as we sailed under the hulking mass plummeting on us. The bark caught on the end of the cart as we slid through, an awful SCREECH filling the air. My heart hurt as it pounded against my chest, jumping off my ribcage as the tree THWOMPED to the ground three feet behind us.
The side of the car slammed on the ground, and me and Tish collapsed on the dirt. “Oh my god,” breathed Tish.
We stilled as the vibrations of the monster got closer, rumbling. I looked up, and there it was - the completely terrifying, towering, giant pile of gnomes, the sun blaring behind its head. Tish shoved me off of her. “I’ll deal with this. Just stay here,” she muttered, hoisting herself over the side of the cart.
I climbed out after her. “Tish, you’re not going to handle it by yourself!”
She kept walking towards the monster, her fists clenched. “Go away, Morty!” “What the hell, Tish?” I got up and brushed the front of my jeans. “I get it, I imagine the whole gnome thing was pretty traumatizing, but I just saved your life. Why are you acting all pissy at me?”
“I’m fine, Morty!”
“Don’t give me that, Tish! What the hell is going on?”
Tish turned around and looked at me, her eyes glittering as she bit her lip. “You want to know what’s going on, Morty? You just saved me from the big bad monster, you’re right! All because your sister Tish-” her shoulders started shaking “is too god-goddamn of a loser to ever find anyone decent! I get it, whenever I even try I’ll just get punished for, for stepping out my boundaries.” She looked down. “I get it. My first boyfriend, and he’s a clan of gnomes. That’s what people like me deserve. I get it. Y-you don’t need to rub it in.”
“Tish-”
She started walking away again. “Morty, just leave me alone!”
I ran up to her and grabbed her shoulder. “Tish, if you think you deserve that you’re an idiot. Just because the cheer team and the jocks think we’re losers-”
“-and the whole school.”
“So? Who cares what a bunch of stupid teenagers think about us, Tish? You’re not a loser. You’re like, the most pure-hearted and good person I know. God, Tish, the only way I’m dealing with this divorce is because I have you. You deserve so much better than anyone at our stupid mess of a school, and certainly a lot better than that…” I looked back up at the lumbering giant gnome-pile lumbering towards us, “...thing.” That was going to have be dealt with soon.
Tish looked at me, her eyes narrowed. She wiped her cheek. ‘“Y-you’re not just saying that, because I’m your sister?”
I hugged her. “W-well, of course I am. but anyone who doesn’t realize the same thing is an idiot, Tish. You’re great.”
Tish looked back up at the monster, coming closer. “Thanks, Morty. But, uh, what are we going to do about that?”
“What, didn’t you have a plan?”
Tish looked at me. “No, of course not. I’m a teenage girl being angsty, I’m not thinking about how to stop a monster. I have like, self esteem issues.”
I looked behind us, separating the hug. The monster was still pounding towards us, the gnome components screaming in battle fury. “I’ve got you kids now!” one of them shrieked. The shrieker held the ring in his tiny fist, waving it in the air. “My beautiful bride, you will finally be back with us in your rightful place…” his voice dropped suddenly.
“Oh, shit-sHIT GUYS RUN BACK RUN BACK-”
A white light exploded from underneath the gnome monster, throwing the gnomes into the air. Me and Tish winced as we heard their shrieks and various thumps on the ground. Suddenly, another BOOM ricocheted through the air, and we ran back as fire and brimstone ripped in a neat circle around the property.
I grabbed Tish’s hand and started backing off. She turned to me. “What the hell?”
“Hey, dumbasses! Be careful of the mines, goddammit!” A slurred yell came from the shack.
Tish turned to me. “Did….”
I stared out at the scattered, fleeing crowd of gnomes. “I can’t believe Rick put a line of mines around the Shack.”
Tish snorted. “This is Rick we’re talking about here. Are you really that surprised?”
“Honestly, however Mom decided that this man was good enough to take of two teenagers is beyond me.”
Later, Tish and I were strolling the gift shop, Rick counting the money in the cash register. “Sorry for-for setting off your, uh, mines, Grunkle Rick.”
He looked at her. “What did you call me?”
Tish glanced over at me, and I was surprised to see a glint in her eye. “Grunkle Rick. It’s like Great Uncle mashed together. Grunkle. He stared at her for a second with a expression mixed with either confusion or disdain - I couldn’t tell. After a few seconds, he shrugged and looked back down to counting money. “Whatever. Mines were set there to blow up anyway.” He looked back up at us. “You know, if you want something from the gift shop, you can have it, right?”
Tish, who looked to be holding something in her hands, looked over. “Wait, really?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
She looked over at me, a confused expression at me. I put my hands up. Why Rick was deciding to be nice was beyond me. Maybe somewhere in that skinny, old bastard, there really is someone decent.
She grinned, spinning around. “Uh, Gru-Grunkle Rick, I found this, I found this grappling hook!”
He sighed, leaning into his hand. “Fine. Don’t break anything.”
I looked down at my right. Beside me were a set of baseball caps with pine trees on them - Oregon sure puts a lot of pride in their trees. On my other side, Tish was sliding herself against one of the shelfs, grinning as she held her grappling hook. It seemed maybe the gnome experience made her feel a little more confident about this place. That it wasn’t going to turn into a giant shithole, that maybe we could have one good summer.
I looked back down at the caps.
Well, Oregon, with your gnomes and your pine trees, show me what you got.
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drarryruinsmylife · 4 years ago
Text
With A Little Bit Of Sugar
Request by: @toasterstrutle 
“Yo, I'm a huge sucker for soulmates au's, same with coffee shop au's, and any story where characters A and B (in this case Draco and Harry) get stuck in the same room for a long time.” 
°One Shot
°Pairing: Drarry (Draco x Harry)
°Warnings: Slight NSFW??? Idk??? Harsh Language
                                 ~With A Little Bit Of Sugar~
“Only one more hour to go.”
With a heavy sigh Ron leaned against the little open doorway that leads to the kitchen, whitch is seperated from the rest of the Cafe’.
“Yeah. I miss my bed.”
Harry, his best friend and workmate, chuckled and threw the piece of cloth he used to clean up some of the already empty tables over his shoulder.
“I miss my girl, Hermione.”
It’s been about two years now and Harry still didn’t get used to the sight of his two best friends being all lovey dovey with each other.
Ron and Harry have been besties since they were little kids. They met in school and never left each others side until this very day.
And Hermione?
Well, she was a new kid when they were in second grade. She used to live far away, but due to her dad’s promotion (he’s a dentist) they had to move and that’s basically how the trio found each other.
As time grew by, Ron and Hermione got together and as soon as they could call themselves adults the two of them moved into a nice flat together.
Harry, too, had a flat of his own, but unlike Ron his lover was his bed.
Why I said lover and not girlfriend?
Well, our little Harry is gay.
He discovered that during fifth year in his school. At that time, he also had his first actual crush.
Sure, he found some girls pretty before that. There was this girl called Cho Chang, he fancied her but he never told her. Not because he was too afraid, more likely because the thought of being with her, kissing her and...doing certain things with her seemed so absurd to him.
In other words, he quickly got over that ‘crush’.
There was a short period of time where he found Ginny Weasley, Ron’s sister; cute and he even considered going on a date with her, even tho he was scared of Ron’s reaction, but he just couldn’t.
Even after she told him that she liked him he rejected her and moved on fast.
Luckily, she found someone that could make her happy.
It was until he walked into class that Harry told himself he just wasn’t intrested in those two specific girls.
It all started with this one french class.
Harry was forced to choose between spanish, latin and french.
Latin didn’t even cross Harry’s mind once-like who the fuck speaks latin anymore?
And spanish and french were his least favourite languages, but since he had to choose one, he decided to give the french class a try.
Ron, that idiot he is, lost his sheet, so the teachers said he had to go to spanish, while Hermione volunteery joined the latin class (WHO THE FUCK SPEAKS THAT ANYMORE).
The dork he is, he ended up being late on his first day at french class and had to sit next to a girl that wouldn’t stop talking.
He remembers her name was Pansy something. She had black hair and always wore black, white and green clothes. For example her favourite green skirt, combined with white high socks, black shoes, a white blouse and a green, sometimes black tie around her neck.
But the most remarkable thing about her probably was her red lipstick.
Pansy however doesn’t even matter that much in this story.
Who mattered much more was who she was friends with-Draco Malfoy, the boy that everyone would tell you to stay away from if they were in one of those cliche’ teeny movies.
The thing was, Harry had just discovered who he was as a person, and then someone like Draco Malfoy steps into his life, just like this, and messes up everything.
He used to play Basketball back then, and just because of Malfoy messing with his head and his heart, Harry never showed up at practice anymore.
Harry had never been less interested in Basketball; he was rapidly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy.
In other words, Harry had the hugest crush ever on Draco Malfoy himself, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Nothing other than masturbate every chance he got to the thought of Draco and him getting it on.
There was a little party in their school and everyone was there. Of course, some alcohol was involved, which is why Harry believes that this was the reason for what Malfoy did, but when they were outside the school and talked about deep stuff, Draco kissed him.
It was Harry’s first kiss and he felt his heart burst with joy. But that heart got torn apart the next day, when Draco told him it was a big mistake and that he was disgusted by what they did and that, if he sees Harry anywhere near him or his friends again, he would beat the shit out of him.
The next day, Draco was hanging on Pansy’s lips and when Harry wanted to confront them, Malfoy turned his words into reality.
The poor boy didn’t know what hurt more; his heart or the bruises his classmate caused that day.
Whatever it was, Harry decided to ignore the pain and Malfoy for the rest of his life, which was hard because he left quite a weird looking scar on his forehead.
But, the years passed and they all finished school and went on with their lifes.
And they never saw each other again.
A little ring was heard from the bell hanging over the door, signaling Ron and Harry that someone just entered.
“I’ll take this one. You can go and get to your girl.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, go. See you tomorrow. And tell Hermione I said hey.”
They said farewell and as Ron left through the backdoor, Harry grabbed his little notebook and walked towards the costumer, that sat with his back to him.
Strange, he thought. No one else seems to be here anymore. And it’s oddly dark for this hour of the day.
But since he wanted to be a professional, he just shook his head and put a smile at his tired face.
“Good evening, sir, what can I bring yo-”
There was a small sound heard of something colliding with the floor, and Harry’s face looked like death itself.
No way...
“Potter?”
“Malfoy?”
“Potter.”
“Wha...what are you doing here?!”
“Obviously, I wanted some coffee.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. After all this time, and all he said was that he wanted some goddamn coffee?!
Who the fuck gives two shits about a coffee in this situation?!
“What?”
“Didn’t you hear me? I mean, I get that I damaged your stupid face, but did you get deaf or something? I said I wanted a coffee. With a little bit of sugar, if you can tell what sugar and what salt is.”
Harry was mad; no he was furious.
“Is that everything?”, Harry growled, his fake smile obviously covering up the storm inside the young male.
“No, that would be it.”
Draco grinned at Harry’s misery, but as he watched him walk away into another part of the building, Draco’s mask fell.
His eyes became teary and he had to bite his lip in order to keep the sobs from coming out.
What has he done?
It was at the time to apologize.
He whiped away the tears quickly, shut the front door with a switch of his hand on the lock and walked to where Harry has disappeared.
“Potter.”
Draco entered the room and slammed the open door shut behind him...only to find horror on the others face.
“No!!”
“What?”
Instead of answering, Harry just yanked at the door, which won’t open.
“You idiot, Malfoy! This door needs a key to be opened, and my key IS NOT in THIS ROOM!!!!”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, right.”
The boy sighed and sat on a little two seat sofa.
Draco sat next to him and looked through the tiny room.
It seemed like a storing room for small things, like flour and sugar and all that kind of stuff.
And, to his surprise, there were an open salt and an open sugar package on the little cupboard.
Okay so, either he was trying to poisen him with that salt, or he actually was checking which one is which. Did he take his nasty comment seriously?
“Look, Potter, I actually came to talk to you.”
Mentioned one turned his head to Draco, and suddenly their faces were way closer than they should be.
It took him back to the party...and the day after.
“You see...ugh, I’m not good at this, okay?”
Draco took a deep breath and felt relieved that Harry now didn’t seem as angry anymore; he actually seemed very interested in what Malfoy had to say.
“First of all, I’d like to say that you still have not aged up one bit. I mean, oh god, sorry I...”
And there was it-a small chuckle, almost unnoticed, but Draco heard it clearly, and his heart jumped.
And suddenly it felt so much easier.
“Harry, I am sorry. For everything. You see, back then, when we were in school, Pansy always told me about you and how good you would be for me. In this state of my life, my father was sent to prison, because he robbed a building and hurt people in the act, He was getting blackmailed and saw no other way out than to do what they said. The one that made my father do it-ugh that fucking asshole, he broke my whole family apart.
He’s in prison too, forever, while my father was supposed to get out after five years, but...he died in his cell. He slipped in the small bathtub und hurt his head, and the staff didn’t give two shits so he died due to the bleeding.
My mother never was the same anymore and I had only myself, Blaise and Pansy. So when she told me about you, I wanted to get to know you so badly.
Harry, after a while, I had these thoughts about you, and they scared me because I never thought about someone like this, let alone a boy I just met a few weeks ago.
I kissed you that night because I wanted it, I didn’t drink one bit alcohol. And I was aware of how it felt and I was aware of the way I couldn’t sleep the whole night cause you kept creeping into my mind and god, I was aware that I was no good for you.
So I hurt you to stay away. to make you walk away from me because you deserve so much better. I’m selfish, but this time I had to think about you. When I kissed Pansy, I felt like throwing up, cause that cheep lipstick felt so wrong, and your lips felt so right, and when I hit you I felt like I was dying.”
There were tears in both boy’s eyes and Draco raised his hand to slightly brush his fingers over the scar he made.
“I bet I left even worse scars in your heart, didn’t ?”
Harry nodded, but then took Draco’s hand in his.
A sob escaped his lips and Harry finally pulled him into a tight embrace.
“Draco, we both made mistakes. Let’s forget what happened, okay? Fuck, I’m so happy to see you again.”
They both laughed a bit before they looked into each others eyes, and then, finally finally finally, they leaned in and their lips locked together.
Neither could hide their smile anymore when their lips met, and when they pulled away, they were grinning like idiots.
Draco cupped Harry’s face with his hands and leaned his forehead against his.
“I missed that.”
Harry smiled.
“I missed you.”
-
The next day, Ron and Hermione walked into the Cafe’ and were confused when they saw Harry’s jacket and keys on the counter.
“Harry?”
Since they got no answer they opened the little door to the store room.
“Oh my god!!”
Shocked the couple stared at a sleeping Harry on the couch, a sleeping Draco in his arms.
Hermione pointed to the cupboard.
“What did they need the sugar for?”
Hope you liked it, sorry if I got anything wrong. Lots of love!<3
~Jen
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reddhoodie · 4 years ago
Text
Cupcakes
Have some Batdad.
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    If Bruce had learned anything about Dick Grayson in the two years since he'd adopted the boy, it was that he was not a shy child. He was cheerful, friendly, kind to anyone who spoke to him. At parties, he was excellent with the adults who insisted on cooing over him like a toddler. Everyone loved him.
    It was certainly not like him to be clingy. That's why when Bruce almost tripped over him for the third time while mingling at the GCPD fundraiser, he became more than a little concerned.
    "Dick?"
    The ten-year-old, still small enough that his head barely passed Bruce's waist, glanced up at him innocently. He chewed on his lower lip and fidgeted with the hem of his suit jacket.
    "Are you feeling all right?"
    Dick blinked a couple of times like he didn't understand the question. He looked down, switching to fidgeting with the hem of his slighty-too-long sleeves. "Yeah." He mumbled, his voice so low Bruce could hardly hear him over the general bustle of the event.
    Bruce frowned. Dick didn't look like he was sick, but he briefly put a hand to the boy's forehead anyway just in case. "You sure?"
    He squirmed away from Bruce's hand with a frown, shoving him away with a small hand that couldn't quite wrap all the way around his wrist. "I'm fine!"
    Dick was normally cheered and energized by the bustle of people, the challenge of meeting and interacting with others. Bruce normally would hardly see him on nights like this, only to find him when it was time to go hanging around the food tables with a few snacks shoved in his pockets for later. The boy being grouchy like this set off alarm bells in Bruce's head.
    "Let's go for a walk, outside." He suggested in a tone that made it clear it was not actually a suggestion. While Dick rolled his eyes Bruce set his half-empty glass on a passing waiter's tray, then steered his son out of the ballroom with a hand on his thin back.
    Outside the gardens were almost totally empty of people. It was much quieter, the night air cool and fresh. The walkway was gravel, and cruched under their feet while they walked slowly away from the building.
    There was a long, narrow fountain running parallel to the walkway, and almost immediately Dick hopped up on the concrete edge and started walking there, beside Bruce, balancing in his dress shoes like a professional.
    Now Bruce knew something was definitely wrong. Dick balanced on things when he was thinking about something.
    He said nothing for a while as they walked, watching the boy out of the corner of his eye and trying to decide how to start the conversation, keeping one hand hovering behind Dick's back, ready to grab him if he lost his balance.
    "How long do we have to stay here?" Dick asked after a while, watching his feet while he walked.
    Bruce turned to watch him, studying the tension in his face. "A couple of hours, at least. Why?"
    "I want to leave." He wobbled again, but regained himself before Bruce had to intervene.
    "Why?"
    He shrugged.
    "Dick, if you don't tell me what's wrong I can't do anything about it."
    "I'm just bored, okay?" He snapped, stopping on the fountain edge and frowning at Bruce. He wouldn't make eye contact. There was more to it.
    Bruce stopped also and turned to face him fully, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Dick."
    Standing on the fountain edge Dick was almost level with his face. He glared up at him with an expression that was trying to be a scowl but was more of a pout.
    Bruce let the silence hang for a moment. "If you don't want to tell me, fine, but-"
    "Dick!"
    Dick flinched and lost his balance, arms wheeling. Bruce grabbed his arm, stoppin him from landing in the fountain.
    "Dick, there you are!"
    Barbara Gordon, aka Batgirl, aka the police commissioner's daughter, hurried over, fumbling in child-sized heels on the gravel. She'd pulled her fluffy purple dress up a bit to stop herself from tripping. Her coppery red hair was artfully done, and Bruce thought she was even wearing a little makeup. She looked cute, and very not like he was used to seeing her.
    Dick was still clinging to Bruce's arm. He glanced back at the boy and noticed the blush on his face, the wide-eyed, almost fearful expression.
    He glanced back at Barbara, smiling and hurrying over with some friends her age, both similarly dolled up.
    Dick swallowed hard, glancing nervously at Bruce.
    Oh. Oh.
    "I've been looking for you all night!" Babs sighed, brushing wispy red bangs out of her bright green eyes. "You promised you would show me that backflip, remember? I told Frankie and Dinah you could show them too."
    "Uh..." Dick floundered, mouth opening and closing nervously while his grip on Bruce's arm tightened.
    "So? C'mon! I only have a few minutes before Dad starts to wonder where I am."
    Bruce probably should have felt guilty for the amusement he felt in that moment, glancing between the two kids, watching the normally-confident little boy who fought crime beside him almost every night practically falling apart because his best friend was wearing a dress. A smile threatened to show itself and he bit his tongue to hold it back.
    But then Dick looked at him almost desperately.
   "I'm sorry," Bruce said politely to the small girl, "but Dick and I were just having a ...discussion. Can I send him after you in a few minutes?"
   Babs seemed surprised by Bruce's cordiality. She was more used to him gruffly refereeing her and Dick's childish arguments on patrol. She glanced again at Dick, who was staring back at the fountain and biting his lip.
    "Yeah, sure. See you later, Dick."
    When the girls were gone, Bruce let himself smile, if only so that he wouldn't laugh.
    Dick caught a glimpse of his expression and his face immediately turned stormy. "It's not funny!"
    "No, it's not." Bruce agreed. "You're only ten. Save girl troubles for another...ten years or so?"
    Dick scrunched up his face in a scowl. "Ew! I'm not having girl troubles! I just don't feel like hanging out with her right now!"
    "Why not?"
    For a while, the boy didn't respond. He shrugged, then started walking along the fountain edge again. "Just because."
    Bruce strolled along with him, waiting for him to go on. When he didn't, he sighed. "It's because of her friends then? The other girls?"
    Dick continued staring down, putting one foot in front of the other. "...They're gonna think I'm a dork."
    "Are they?"
    A little shrug.
    "Dick, Babs is your best friend."
    Shrug.
    "She already knows you're a dork."
    Dick's eyes went wide. "Bruuuce!" He laughed.
    Gravel crunched behind them and Bruce turned to look.
    Babs was walking over slowly, frowning a little, brow furrowed in concern.
    Dick froze.
    "Dick? Are you okay?"
    Bruce glanced from her to his son, waiting.
    The blush was on Dick's face again. He glanced away. "Yeah...I'm fine."
    Babs glanced at Bruce, then back to Dick. "I'm sorry I kind of treated you like a dog or something. You don't have to show us that flip if you don't want to."
    Dick shrugged.
    "The dessert is being served. You wanna come see how many mini cupcakes we can stick in our mouths at once?"
    "Sure."
    Babs smiled, picking up the hem of her dress again. "Race you!"
    Dick glanced at Bruce once, then hopped down from the fountain with a smirk. "You're on!"
    Bruce didn't see Dick again until a few hours later, when it was time to leave. The little boy climbed into the car with chocolate cupcake crumbs on his white dress shirt, and white frosting smeared at the corners of his mouth.
    Bruce leaned back in his seat, rested his elbow on the car door and leaned his head on his hand, watching his son thoughtfully brush crumbs onto the car's floor.
    "Five." Dick said. "Babs got four. Frankie said I was cool."
    "Sounds like you had a productive night."
    He yawned. "Bruce?"
    "Hm?"
    "Babs said I looked nice in a suit."
    Bruce exchanged a glance with Alfred in the rear-view mirror. "Oh?"
    "I didn't know what to say so I just ate another cupcake."
    "Sounds like the perfect answer to me, Dick."
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