Sam Winchester
Threat
Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old- it's Sam
Posts: 20
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Post by Sam Winchester on Mar 14, 2006 22:03:16 GMT -5
Sam heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes at his brother. The elder Winchester could be a royal ass when he was in the mood to be, which was frequently. Sam knew a bitchfest was coming his way later; at least he was grateful Dean respected him enough to wait until later.
Sam was about to ask another question when a piercing pain shot through his head, seeming to explode behind his eyes. It blurred his vision and before he could clear it, he saw blood- lots and lots of blood. There were screams of agony and laughter, a rich, throaty, woman's laugh.
Rubbing hard at his eyes, Sam looked around quickly and spotted a brunette standing on the corner. She was dressed plainly enough, in a pair of dark jeans and a white T-shirt. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of black sunglasses, her dark brown hair loose about her shoulders. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as she seemed to smile in their direction.
Before he could say anything, Dean was pulling away from the stop sign and talking to Alex about 'qualities'. The word made Sam cringe inwardly, not sure which part of the woman's anatomy he kept so nastily referring to. Wiping carefully at his nose, Sam was relieved to see no blood. It wasn't a bad premonition, not by a long shot, and he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.
He thought about saying something to Dean, but slid a careful look at Alex as the car rolled to a stop. He had a good feeling about her- his feelings about people were rarely wrong. Well, there was Meg, but...He wasn't about to start jabbering about his premonitions in front of a complete stranger. The occasional odd or disbelieving look he could handle from Dean because Dean was his family; it was different when others did it. Making a mental note to talk to Dean later, Sam slid out of the Impala and leaned against the hood with his brother.
"So do you really have to be such a jerk?"
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Dean Winchester
Threat
"That fabric softener teddy bear... Ooh. I wanna hunt that little bitch down."
Posts: 35
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Post by Dean Winchester on Mar 14, 2006 23:49:44 GMT -5
”So do you really have to be such a jerk?”“Well you know... I did do my thesis on the subject.” Dean paused, sighing heavily, “...look the girl is a distraction we can't afford right now; you more than anyone aught to understand that.” Dean’s eyes followed Alex as she came back around to the car and got into the back seat. It was difficult not to stare as she started to change her clothes. “Three to four days…You can go ahead and go. By the way keep your eyes on the road. I wouldn’t want my qualities to curse you’re driving ability.”“As I’m sure they would.” He snapped back with an icy but deadpan truth. Eyes glanced up to the rearview quickly, catching a glimpse of something he shouldn’t. He looked away just as fast and grabbing at straws or something else to think about. “Sam you wanna hand me that box of cassettes from the floor? – Thanks.” Back and forth Dean rummaged through the little plastic cases until he came up with a homemade mix tape featuring AC/DC on the first track. The blaring voice of the band’s original front man Bon Scott hits Dean’s ears, affecting his mood like some cherubic healer as he blared out the lyrics to “If You Want Blood (You’ve Got It)”. Digits cranked the music to rude decibels and as they slowly crused back through town he couldn’t help but smirk as his car was “forced” to drive the exact speed limit of twenty five miles per hour with the windows down. More than a few heads turned toward the thunder of the engine and the obnoxious music. Dean pretended not to notice, save the smirk on his mug. Just as they were about to pass the hotel, he turned the tunes down. "Did either of you want to score some breakfast, or did you wanna just skip the foreplay," he looked to Alex at this point, "and get right down to it?" here he turned to Sam, knowing full well that the kid had a vision.
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Post by Alex Sutherland on Mar 15, 2006 0:37:53 GMT -5
Lips pursed as she shifted against the back set, working on the new clothing. Listening to the engine roaring back to life in the Impala. There were a few things that Alex wasn’t unbrash about. She didn’t have anything, that any other woman didn’t. Dean kept commenting about qualities, why bother, nothing she could say would change his mind. There were levels of stubbornness in him that not even she had. After finishing she watched the town pass slowly by once again. Hands running back to flip her dark hair over her shoulders, then slid down over the top of her chest smoothing the shirt, and adjusting the bra that had shifted up during the change.
At least she could agree with his choice of music. Though sometimes she opened herself up. A little new, then some even older. Tongue licked over her lips as she shifted glancing out the window. Watching the town patrons staring at the car as they passed, looking at them as if they were a menace to society. Sam was acting differently since they’d gotten to where her truck was. He’d quieted down from the flow of questions he’d had been asking. A brow arched up towards the pair then lowered as Dean’s gaze caught hers.
“As tempting as that sounds…I think I’ll go make sure my truck is in order.” Alex caught the glance between the brothers. If they wanted alone time that was fine with her, she wasn’t part of their team. Mind traveled back to times that she was part of a team. With her father. With him. She hadn’t thought about that man in a while. Turning her attention away from the brothers she thought more about him. Hannibal King. It was interesting she should of thought about him. Fingers spread over the flat of her stomach then stopped. Exiting the Impala, Alex headed into the garage. She looked at the face of the pimply kid behind the counter. “I’m here about the jeep you just towed.” “Oh-uh ok…but it’s already taken care of.” “What do you mean…it’s not finished.” “But, well he just paid us for what the estimate cost was.” “He who?” “Look lady I don’t know, some guy.”
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Post by Hannibal King on Mar 15, 2006 14:37:22 GMT -5
The loud sound of a muscle car could be heard from where Hannibal King stood. What kind he wasn’t sure, but by the sound of the engine the best bet was some type of Chevy. Chevy was a type of car that strived for that roar. The type of roar that could get glances from anyone. Senses switching, his eyes met a bench against the wall of the diner. Quickly shifting to the open barstool inside. Walking out before breakfast was kind of a dumb move on his part. Caught up in the moment of being daring. He smiled as his stupidity and grasped the handle once again. Maybe this time he wouldn’t get that annoying kid.
Slowly he made his way towards the barstool, only to be denied by a young trucker who quickly took his spot. Hannibal grumbled slightly. Turning to the booths he sat down in one and stretched his upper body. A waitress made her way to his table pen and pad in hand. “Say weren’t you just in here not but half an hour ago?” she asked him with a smile. Not coming across rude Hannibal looked at her then back outside. He’d been outside a half an hour, or was she just being sarcastic. His face showed he was definitely questioning that.
Snapping out of it he looked at her and smiled, “yeah I was, but as soon as I got out there. I realized I should probably leave after I eat.” She laughed a little and then returned to her normal pose of being considerably dumb. It annoyed Hannibal, everyone here was either a hick or completely delirious to the fact normal people exist. Looking down over the menu once again actually reading it this time he picked what he wanted. The waitress smiled and took the menu and pranced off towards the kitchen. No wonder he left earlier it wasn’t the thought of Alex it was the surrounding hell whole he was just sucked into. Angry glances came from over at the counter Hannibal responded with a cheesy smile and a wave. Truckers had that essence of thinking they ruled the road as well as the diners and whores along the way. Noticing his particular foul mood Hannibal kept his cool and stayed in his own booth bubble. He lacked what he needed most, the relaxation of sleep. To get into a fight cause he was grumpy was far from worth it, not saying it wouldn’t be fun.
When the food was placed in front of him the waitress made her way to the seat across from him and sat down. “It’s my break, only 10 minutes, mind if I sit here?” she asked batting her eyes and giving that girly smile. Hannibal looked up and nodded. Why would he care? Already three seconds into the conversation and he already tuned her out. “So, why is someone like you in this place. I mean you here on pleasure? Or business.” The way she said it made Hannibal want to burst out laughing. Instead he kept on eating, sticking a fork into his scrambled eggs. “Pleasure? In a town like this, yes I am into antiques, quilting, and drinking. All of which are here, so wow it’s like a pleasure overload.” He managed to say without even smiling. For someone who was dumber then she looks she actually got it, “are you being sarcastic?” she asked between giggles.
“Yes, you caught me, you are so smart” annoyed beyond normal Hannibal smiled at her. Pretty little thing just doesn’t know when to shut up. She continued on and on about this and that. The whole time the food on the plate in front of him slowly becoming smaller portions. Finally she broke her constant ramble. “Oh breaks over, I’m off in a couple hours if you want to wait for me” she giggled again as she walked off staring at him. Smiling after her Hannibal remarked between his fake smile, “I’ll be far from here sweets, yeah you keep walking.” After that was over he went back to eating. Now that is was silent he could think. Though the only thing really on his mind was Alex.
Thinking about what to tell her, how to approach her. All of it he’d have to wing. Over thinking it would only lead to it ending bad. Earlier that day he had gone in and paid for her truck to be fixed. Not leaving a name or any information. Just paid the estimate cost. Wondering how she might react to that made it somewhat entertaining. He thought about just meeting her there at the tow trucks origin. But meeting at a tow truck company wasn’t really how he planned seeing her for the first time in two years. Although, Hannibal hadn’t really planned on seeing her. When he stopped calling her it was for her own good. Or so he thought.
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The Wanderer
Threat
Why, my little party's just starting!
Posts: 15
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Post by The Wanderer on Mar 15, 2006 22:51:38 GMT -5
The Wanderer took a cup of tea to a sidewalk table in front of a quaint coffee shop. Sitting down, she picked up a discarded copy of the Bucks County Courier and pretended to leaf through it. Sipping the tea, she grimaced and put the cup down. Did no one outside of England know how to make a good cup of tea? Running a finger around the rim of her cup, she murmured under her breath in Latin, turning the brew into something more to her liking. She was capable of far, far more, but sometimes it was just the simple things.
45 minutes later, she heard the rumble of a finely tuned engine and the blare of AC/DC. She couldn't fault Dean Winchester's taste in music even if she was more of a Yanni girl herself. The Wanderer watched as the Impala pulled up in front of a gas station to let out the pretty tag along and the Wanderer filed the girl's image to memory. If she was with the Winchesters, it would be worth it to find out more. The trio came and went, heading to a diner a few blocks down and the Wanderer moved toward the gas station.
A pimply faced kid of about twenty-one was behind the counter, reading a girlie magazine. His mouth fell open when he saw her and she smiled. She had dressed simply so as not to stand out in the borough's eclectic crowd, but she knew she looked damned good in her T-shirt and jeans. Scenting the air, she knew the kid had an erection as she strode up to the counter.
"I'm looking for some wheels," she said, leaning on the greasy counter. "I'm particularly interested in that nice, black bike out front.” She lifted a set of keys from the counter top and smiled at the skull key chain that had little red jewels for eyes.
The kid’s smile turned from polite to cocky as he leaned on the counter, putting himself a little closer to the Wanderer. He gave her a very obvious once-over and it was enough to make the Wanderer want to tear his pimply, oily skin right from his face. “Well, pretty lady, that’s my bike," he said, giving the keys in her hand a gentle tug. "I’m not sure someone as pretty and delicate as you could handle that much power between her legs.”
The Wanderer took a deep breath to keep the smile plastered to her face. “You haven’t got a clue,” she murmured and confusion made the kid’s smile falter. The Wanderer studied his face for a moment, taking another deep breath to gather what information she needed. “I can handle the bike,” she said, straightening up. “And I’m taking it with me.”
As she turned to leave, the kid rounded the corner, his face angry. “Wait a minute! You can’t take my bike! I’ll call the cops!”
Pausing at the door to the gas station, the Wanderer let her eyes drift to his wilting erection, seeing another writhing bulge emerging. “You can call the cops after you take care of that snake,” she said before murmuring a stream of Latin. Leaning in the doorway, she blocked the view from the street. She just had to see the look on the kid’s face.
The kid looked down and froze, unable to do anything about the rapidly growing boa constrictor emerging from the bottom of his pants. The constrictor was nearly the size of an anaconda when it started to wrap around him at her command. By the time the kid thought to scream for help the snake had squeezed the breath from him. “I could smell your fear,” she said, studying her nails as he gave her a pleading look before blood began to pour from his nose and eyes. “You should have just given up the stupid bike. But then again, I wouldn’t be having this much fun!” she said cheerfully.
Once the kid was dead, the snake unwound itself from the imploded carcass and disappeared. The Wanderer stepped out of the gas station and shut the door behind her before heading to the bike. Studying it, she waved a hand over it and turned the Harley an eye-searing shade of candy apple before getting on it and heading out of town.
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Dean Winchester
Threat
"That fabric softener teddy bear... Ooh. I wanna hunt that little bitch down."
Posts: 35
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Post by Dean Winchester on Mar 23, 2006 23:26:22 GMT -5
Although Dean had no interest in eavesdropping on the heated conversation between Alex and the greasy overall wearing mechanic, it was hard not to hear what was going on regardless of the perfunctory racket. As Dean leaned against the frame of the Impala and pumped fuel into the vehicle his eye caught with Sam. “You wanna tell me what that was all about back there? – I hate to sound impatient but we do have a job to do here Sammy.” He replaced the nozzle and grabbed his receipt, then walked back to the driver’s seat.
Gunning the engine, Dean pulled back into traffic, following the winded road to the 24-hour diner. At first glance of the cars outside and the train-car styled seating, the place wasn’t overly crowded, but he was positive from the look of it, that this was the place the late night bar-dwellers migrated after a hard night of boozing. Dean ran a hand though his hair pushing the mismanaged out of his baby blues. This Alex situation was gnawing at the back of his mind, like a cut inside his mouth that would go away if only he could stop tonguing it.
The beeping of his cell phone was enough to distract him from internally vexing over the woman. Eyes glanced down, reading off a pair of numbers. He flashed the display to Sam before turning it back to look it over again. “I’m guessing this is an address, or latitude and longitude, but I say we pop in here, grab something quick and look into this.” He exited the car and walked into the building with his brother and found a suitable booth adjacent the counter of barstools.
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Post by Hannibal King on Mar 24, 2006 0:19:39 GMT -5
The annoying little copper bell above the door gave a jingle as the frame opened. Two men stepped into the semi occupied diner. Hannibal didn’t raise his eyes when the two strangers made their way through the diner. Listening he only heard the heavy footsteps of the pair as they found the spot and sat down. He had finished his meal a long time ago and was just simply wasting time. This town didn’t really scream excitement, so King kept to the diner. Sadly, the waitress from earlier thought he was waiting for her and in a way he might as well. A smirk crossed his face at what could become of this connection the young waitress saw. Quickly it faded, he wasn’t that type of guy and he knew it. Looking down into the cup of coffee he made a face in the reflection shown on the brown liquid. Coffee wasn’t big on Hannibal’s list of yum, however since beer wasn’t really on the menu he would need something to keep him up.
After a few moments his curiosity got the best of him. Glancing up at two men in the booth right directly to the right of his. By the look of them twenties was the range of age they belonged to. From where he was sitting he could see who he thought was the oldest, and the back of the other young man. His eyes rested on him for a moment, something in the stranger made Hannibal uneasy. The feeling a person gets when he knows that he’s trouble. But it wasn’t just that. Hannibal had an odd feeling about the man. He couldn’t quite put his grasp on it. Thinking it was jus the lack of sleep and the constant consumption of alcohol might have made his judgment far from truth. The eyes of the stranger met with King’s, the tired clearly seeping through the stare. He smiled a sort of smug smile but one that nonetheless gave a “hello” to the person who had happened upon it. Looking down he gripped the handle of the plastic coffee mug and took a sip of horrible concoction they labeled “coffee.”
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Post by Alex Sutherland on Mar 24, 2006 4:12:30 GMT -5
With a groan escaping her lips Alex decided it was a loosing battle. The kid hardly knew what a shower was, how was she expecting him to rattle off the name of the guy, or even a description of who paid for her truck. Initially she couldn’t think of anyone, but after spotting the black Impala parked near a diner a up the street she had one idea. Fingers brushed through her dark hair as she started walking that direction. At least this way it would give the brothers a chance to talk without her around, and frankly she didn’t blame them. Sometimes being around someone meant bad business, she knew from too many experiences. This, this was just temporary. They helped each other out and were now even. It’s what she would have liked to believe. Head nodded softly to a couple walking down the sidewalk her direction.
Pushing against the door of the old fashioned diner, Alex made her way inside, picking up a empty place setting from one of the tables as she spotted the brothers. Eyes shot directly towards Dean as she neared. “Are you playing some kind of game I don’t know about?” Weight shifted easily as she glanced around the small diner. Most of the seats were full, even the table across from them. She could make out the shoulder of a man from behind the bent figure of the waitress. Head shook slightly at the shameless flirting. But she was holding a pot of coffee. Blue gaze turned over Sam then Dean once again before she reached to grab the waitress attention. “Can I get some of that, and anoth – son of a bitch…”
The friendly tone she’d been taking with the waitress faded as the woman pulled back raising the coffee pot. Alex could fell the mug and saucer slipping from her fingertips. Sound of it crashing on the floor only brought one reaction, a blink. Waitress seemed a little fluttered by the tension she could feel. “I’ll just get something to clean that right up.” And she scurried away leaving the brunette hunter with a clear view. There right before her very eyes, was the man she thought she’d never see again. Someone who’d turned his back on her. Slightly agape mouth closed until her teeth clenched against each other. Distraction had brought up attention from some of the other patrons, but as she just stood there between the two booths, they turned back to their meals. Finally Alex broke staring straight at Hannibal. “What are you doing here?” Of course she already knew the answer to that question.
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Post by Hannibal King on Mar 24, 2006 17:55:29 GMT -5
Moments had passed from when his eyes met the strangers. Though the feeling never shook itself loose. Since Hannibal wasn’t one to peruse a feeling, he pushed it back in his mind. Sleepless eyes closed slightly as King tuned out the clutter of noises that filled the diner. His body ached as if to call out for rest. Hannibal ignored it like he did everything else. He wasn’t one to let his body get was it deserved let alone needed in order for him to actually be healthy. Not recently. Before he took care of himself. Worked out, ate right, and did the whole healthy thing. Now, it was different. He drank, ate anything he wanted, and could care less if he got the just amount of sleep. He of course still worked his body to the limit, he needed to for his line of work, or at least that’s what he believed. His job got most of his attention, now he hardly paid attention to himself. Wherever an employer wanted him, he’d go. Caught up in it all. He knew he was going down this road of no u-turns where he’d have to keep going until he finally… his thoughts stopped.
Slowly his eyes opened and made their way around the diner and locked on the waitress across the room, unfortunately at the same time she had her gaze on him. Which meant only one thing conversation wasn’t far. Sure enough the waitress grabbed a coffee pot and made her way to his booth. “More coffee sweetheart?” she looked at him and tilted her head slightly. She had a smile that caught Hannibal’s eye and he continued with her flirty mood. Giggles made their presence known, after most of whatever Hannibal said. Which in a way was irritating, he knew he could say bacon and she’d crack up as if he said the best joke ever made. He continued to flirt; the mischievous side of him was set loose. The lower brain had quickly taken over and he didn’t even notice the figure, which made its way to the two men from earlier. The voice registered but never made it’s connection until he heard the son of a bitch and the crash of a cheap coffee mug that made it snap into place.
The waitress rushed off to get a broom but probably just to get out of there. Hannibal’s eyes locked on her. His smiled faded as he stared in shock at the past. Alex Sutherland, the girl he stood up, left to fend on her own resulting in the harm of the girl he cared for, and the damage of what they had. Seeing her there, he knew it was real but how he wished it were a dream. This isn’t how he wanted to see her again. Not in some crappy diner in the middle of some crappy town. At least not like this. Her jaw clenched, anger that had built up for so many years. Anger that was well fueled, what he did to her was a jackass move on his part. The real truth of why she had never found out, not that it would make him anymore of a man to her then a coward who only cared about money.
“What are you doing here?” Quickly thoughts of what to say raced through his mind as he slowly got up and stood in front of the woman who he once loved, the woman who saved him from the damnation of hell, the woman that he hurt in the end. All of the smart things vanished as his eyes rested on the beauty he once knew. His smile resurfaced as the cocky Hannibal King answered.
“What, no hug?”
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Sam Winchester
Threat
Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old- it's Sam
Posts: 20
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Post by Sam Winchester on Mar 26, 2006 20:48:10 GMT -5
Once Alex was out of the car and they watched her walk into the gas station- Dean with a little more interest than Sam, which made the younger Winchester smile- Dean dropped his bomb.
“You wanna tell me what that was all about back there? – I hate to sound impatient but we do have a job to do here Sammy.”
"It's Sam, not Sammy," Sam corrected, almost absently.
Dean had picked up on the premonition despite Sam doing a good job of covering it. So his big brother paid more attention to things than Sam had given him credit for and he felt a little guilty for that. Even though he knew Dean better than anyone else, sometimes Sam found himself actually believing Dean's reckless slacker demeanor.
They found their way to the diner, a typical small town hole in the wall. Once they were seated with Dean facing the door, Sam began explaining his premonition, keeping his voice low. When he had finished, Dean nodded slowly, his blue eyes narrowed in thought. As he opened his mouth to answer, his eyes shifted to a spot over Sam's shoulder and his lips curved into a forced, polite smile.
Turning, Sam saw Alex approaching and he gave her a wide smile. She had started to place an order for coffee with the waitress that had come to their table when her eyes focused on the scruffy looking guy at the table across from theirs. Her terse, angry question had Sam standing up, getting the distinct impression there was trouble coming.
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Post by Alex Sutherland on Mar 26, 2006 23:37:24 GMT -5
Alex had smiled slightly towards Sam before she was going to direct her attention to Dean. If it was him who’d paid for the truck. But things never seemed as they appeared. She didn’t know that when she woke up that morning she’d be faced with part of her past. Alex had helped him, cure him from what he was, tried to give him a normal life. When you deal with the supernatural it’s never normal though. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sam rise hand extended out at him slightly.
Gaze was focused directly on King. She could tell he wasn’t expecting to see her either. Then the pieces fell into place. He rose and stepped towards her. That cocky smirk growing on his lips. The one he got when he was protecting himself. Or trying to let it roll of his back like water to a duck. She’d been around him long enough to see right through it. “What, no hug?” “I was thinking more like a kiss.” Stepping closer she tipped her chin up to his tall form as if she was going to kiss him. Hand that had once been raised to Sam to not interfere came striking across his cheek instead and she stepped back.
“How dare you. You found my truck didn’t you…you’re the one who paid for it. Money doesn’t change anything King.” Arms crossed her chest while hand rubbed softly her bare arm. Deep down it hurt to see him. Maybe it was because there was still unresolved tension, feelings even. At one point she loved him and he let her believe the same. “But money always meant more to you anyways. This time I don’t need your help.” Head shook as dark tresses fell over her shoulders. Blue eyes were mixed with the emotions she felt inside. Form stepped back once more as the waitress came to clean up the cup then ran off again.
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Post by Hannibal King on Mar 27, 2006 18:03:20 GMT -5
Hannibal’s kept his smug look when her face forced its gaze on him. Her eyes looked right through him, just like they always had. She knew him probably better then anyone else could ever hope to. She had been a major part in his life, the person he went to when everything was going to hell. She was the one who saved him.
“I was thinking more like a kiss.” His smirk turned into a smile as she made her way forward. Hannibal wasn’t exactly expecting a kiss, but he stood there ready to take it. That’s when her hand hit his jaw line. He winced a little in reaction. He’d remembered how much she packed in her slaps. A memory he hated to reminisce. He cracked his jaw slightly as she backed away, his hand reached up to the red mark that slowly appeared. “You still got it, ow did you really have to slap me that hard?” he remarked in his usual sarcastic tone. She wasn’t in the mood for funny comments and he knew it.
“How dare you. You found my truck didn’t you…you’re the one who paid for it. Money doesn’t change anything King.” “Yeah I saw it on my way in so I just thought I’d cover it. I never said it did, but it fixes your truck, I only fixed your truck Alex.” He looked at her with exhausted eyes. Fighting wasn’t on his list today, especially a verbal one with the love of his past. He now somewhat regretted paying for her truck, if he would of just left it he could have been on the sidelines like he had been before. Just watched, made sure she was safe just like he’d done ever since he quit calling. She never knew of course, he couldn’t tell her “hey I’m spying on you, but carry on with life.” He worried about her; he did after all love her. But the courage never surfaced to face her, tell her he was sorry, and tell her the truth of why he never showed.
He watched her as she tensed up, crossing her arms rubbing them in an unconfident manner. He could tell by the look in her eyes she was hurt. He had a lot of practice, comforting her when she was down back with they were together. After all he was hers, the man she could turn to whenever she needed a hand. Except the one time her hand extended for help only to grasp the empty feeling of no one there to save her.
“But money always meant more to you anyways. This time I don’t need your help.” His jaw tightened. Those words dug deeper into him then any demon, bullet, or knife that had ever left their wound upon his flesh. He never forgave himself for what he did to her abandoning the woman he loved. The reason behind it however wasn’t that of which she knew. Not that the truth was any better. Money had nothing to do with his absence. He wasn’t the same man when she left him to find herself. He understood why she had to go but it didn’t make the cope any easier. To simply put it, his heart was broken. Feeling she was running from him only increased the resentment to her. He resorted to what he was before, someone who killed by the biding of others. For he felt without her he was still the monster.
“No, you’re a big girl now.” His smiled faded as he looked over the two men by her side. “Well since money means everything to me I must be going, I wouldn’t want to waste precious money making time.” He knew what he said made him sound like an asshole. Though he could of made it worse by saying you, but he could never bring himself to hurt her with words like she did with him. She didn’t know the truth, not that the truth would change anything between them. Not saving the girl he was madly in love with cause she broke his heart. He screwed up, and it was when he was at the hospital watching her sleep with the wires hooked to her, as she lay bruised and broken. That he knew she was better off alone.
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Sam Winchester
Threat
Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old- it's Sam
Posts: 20
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Post by Sam Winchester on Mar 30, 2006 21:35:48 GMT -5
Sam felt tension knot the muscles in his shoulders and neck, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Stepping forward, he suddenly found himself between the newcomer and Alex. From everything that had happened since she had walked into the diner, Sam guessed it was not a happy reunion.
With a little bit of surprise, Sam found himself nearly chest to chest with the newcomer. Something was off about the guy; it wasn't his cocky smile or cold eyes, but something was definitely not right with him.
"Stay away from her," Sam said in a low voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
Dean was the brawnier of the two, with more muscle and he definitely packed a bigger punch to back up his words. Sam used finesse and speed where he could, preferring to defuse situations before fists were necessary. What was it about Alex that put his defenses up? It wasn't a lust thing or a macho thing; something about Alex made him want to protect him much as he wanted to protect his own brother from different things.
"She obviously doesn't want to see you, so you'd better make sure you stay gone or you'll be getting a whole lot more than you bargained for."
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Post by Hannibal King on Mar 30, 2006 23:43:51 GMT -5
Hannibal knew he could of came across better to Alex after two years of avoiding each other. Though it was too late to take back his words, though he never would. He wasn’t a man to show he made a mistake, like most he always kept it in. That’s why it wasn’t so easy to confess his mistake. Partly because he was ashamed, the other was he felt if she never left to “find herself” it never would have happened. She should have just stayed with him. She would have been safe. Hannibal knew that was selfish and far from the truth, but it’s what kept him from blaming himself over and over. It was good to see her face-to-face he missed her. She looked good, like she always had. Her brown hair outlining her face as she stared dead on at him with her captivating blue eyes. She was always beautiful to him, though when she was angry it was always a boost in the sex appeal. His eyes blinked slightly as he focused, snapping out of his lingering thoughts.
After Hannibal made his remark to Alex’s defensive words he could see the younger of the two men tense up. Then he made his move; with a boost of courage he took a spot in front of Alex. Hannibal slightly tilted his head to the outsider stepping in. He was fairly tall and tried to use it to persuade Hannibal, he might not of done it on purpose, but Hannibal noticed none the less.
"Stay away from her" Hannibal stared as he softly made the demand. A smile crossed Hannibal’s face, as the kid’s face was strict. Maybe he was rethinking what he said? Hannibal wasn’t expecting this, if anything he figured the bigger of the two would of confronted him. He wondered if maybe he had a thing for Alex. It would explain the outburst of protective flare. This instantly made Hannibal jealous. His muscles tightened and he could feel the aggression building. It was just the way he was. When someone made a move he was one to make another one right after. Never really thinking it over. It was how he was when he was different. He looked down slightly as the flash of a memory flickered in his mind.
"She obviously doesn't want to see you, so you'd better make sure you stay gone or you'll be getting a whole lot more than you bargained for." Hannibal’s memory faded as an evil smirk appeared as if it was a transfer of thought to reality. He loved when strangers made threats. It often gave him a thrill just like when he was an animal. Nowadays he gave into it more. Without Alex to anchor him down Hannibal wasn’t the same. Looking him over Hannibal stepped forward looking him straight in the eyes. “Well, well looks like we have ourselves a hero here. You trying to tell me this town ain’t big enough for the both of us?” Hannibal laughed then suddenly his face turned serious and he grabbed Sam’s jacket, “Don’t ever threaten me again.”
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The Wanderer
Threat
Why, my little party's just starting!
Posts: 15
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Post by The Wanderer on Mar 31, 2006 17:42:47 GMT -5
The Wanderer guided her newly acquired motorcycle to the diner, where she circled around back and parked it there, out of sight. Getting off the bike, she glanced around and seeing no one, murmured a stream of Aramaic, changing her appearance. It wasn't by much, but it was enough to keep even the smallest spark of recognition from igniting in the Winchesters' brains.
In a way, she wasn't much different than a hunter stalking prey. She wanted to know exactly how dangerous her prey was. Stepping into the diner, she was mildly surprised at the absolute silence of the place. Everyone seemed frozen, all eyes turned toward the smoking section. Craning her neck around a burly biker, the Wanderer could see the back of Dean Winchester's head.
From the tension in the air and the anticipation from the silent diner patrons, something big was about to happen. Smiling, the Wanderer gently nudged her way into the crowd, making those she touched recoil with a disgusted look on their face. She knew when she touched humans, they often got the feeling of bugs marching across their skin.
The Wanderer could see a rather striking fellow with a handful of Sam Winchester's jacket balled in his fist. The pair were nose to nose and neither had a friendly look on their face. Taking a deep breath, the Wanderer was again surprised when she realized the man used to be a vampire.
"Let the best man win, shall we?" she whispered before making a small gesture with her hand that set things in motion.
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