Author Topic: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]  (Read 671 times)

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Offline Furyan Goddess

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[Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« on: Sat, Nov 22, 2008, 11:34 AM »
Author: Furyan Goddess
Title: The Holy Cursed [ONG]
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Warning:  M/F sexual relations/content, oral sex I'm sure at some point, drinking, harsh language, supernatural content and all that goes with that.  Hell, heaven, demons and angels.  Spoilers from Season's 1-4, up until eppie 4-7.
Disclaimer:  I do not own anything from Supernatural, Dean or Sam Winchester or Castiel or Uriel.  If anything is similar, it's either accidental or on propose.  This was started before the eppie with the woman that talks to angels so if you seen any similarities with that, it's again accidental.  I make no money by writing this or with any use of photos that might appear in this story.  Some of my ideas do mirror the shows a bit and I can claim all I want that I had them first, but you believe as you wish, I just hope you enjoy the story.
Paring: Dean/OFC-Claire Montgomery
Summery: A woman is Dean's salvation.  Can she help him deal with the horrors he witnessed in Hell? Can she save him from himself?
Feedback: Yes please.  I would love feedback and would like to know what you think.  This is my first major Supernatural undertaking.  Any major gripes, PM me.
Archive: VX, all others ask first.
Author's Note:  This is 1st Person OFC POV.  There are journal entries quoted and in purple and one major flashback, in blue, at the beginning of the story. Thank you to Muddie for beta and Princess_Silence.

** This will run the show up until, and including, 4-7, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester", then it will go AU.  It will also deal with the horrors of Dean's decent in Hell that were spoken about in 4-10 Heaven and Hell, but it will remain AU **

Sources are as follows:

    * ... hester.php
    * ... l_episodes


May 15, 2008-September 18, 2008

I found myself, standing in front of a light blue house.  There was a bicycle in the front yard and flowers growing along the path.  The sun was shinning and birds were singing and I could hear the musical sound of a child's laughter, drifting toward me from somewhere inside.

It was home. Not mine, but the pure image of the word.  Complete with trim grass, a tire swing and kids toys tossed haphazardly about.  The only thing missing was the white picket fence, but that would somehow feel intrusive here.  

I found that I couldn't turn away from the sound of the child's laughter.  It was sweet, innocent and warm.  The front door burst open and a boy about the age of four ran out, squealing and laughing as a man ran after him with a huge grin on his face.

"Dean, don't forget your helmet." The man said in a stern but loving voice.  One that left no room for argument.  

The boy stopped and his small face fell, only a little bit, as he kicked at the lush green grass.

"Ok, Dad." He said and put his helmet on before he jumped on his little blue bike and started peddling as hard and fast as his little, skinned and bruised legs would allow.

I stood, frozen, watching the love and joy on their faces.  The boy wanted to go onto the street and after repeated nagging, Dad finally relented.  As the boy streaked by me, he smiled up at me, but all I saw where how green his eyes were.  Green eyes and dirty blond hair.  Freckles.


The man walked over and stood at my side and smiled as he watched his boy ride.  Dean asked if he could have his training wheels taken off but his father held steady and refused, time and again.

"Oh man, training wheels are for squares, Dad!" The kid groaned and I laughed and shook my head.

"He's a pistol." I said to the man and he just nodded, his chest swelling with pride.

In the background, I heard the lusty cry of a baby, followed closely by a woman sweet singing.

"Sammy's up!" Dean said, all grown up like, as he stopped his bike in front of us.

"Your Mom's got him.  You can ride for a few more minutes."  The man said to his son who nodded solemnly and promptly peddled off.  He turned toward me and held out his hand, "My name is John Winchester.  That's my boy, Dean."

I shook his hand with a smile but my eyes shifted to back to Dean once more. "I'm Claire Montgomery."

John gave my hand a squeeze as he smiled an odd, knowing smile. "It's nice to meet you, Claire."  He looked toward the house where a beautiful blond woman stood, holding a small baby.  She gave us both a wave and John replied to her with a nod.  "That's my wife, Mary, and our youngest, Sammy.  She wants to know if you'd like to stay for dinner."

"Dinner?"  I was shocked by the offer.  I had just met him, but this was heaven, right?  If you can't trust people in heaven then who could you trust.  I looked at the little boy who was trying to pop wheelies, training wheels and all and knew I couldn't refuse.  "I'd like that."

John smiled and nodded a few times, "Good.  That's good."  With a sigh, he motioned for Dean to come on, "Let's go, Dean.  Dinner time."

Dean came over to us and looked up at me, "Are you eating here too?"

I smiled down at him, "Yes."  I watched as his seemingly innocent smiled turned a bit, mischievous.   Dean hopped off his bike and pushed it along beside us but the moment the front wheel touched the grass, he dumped it and ran over to his mother and brother, chatting happily for a bit before he darted inside.

"He's beautiful." I told John softly as I gazed at the door Dean had disappeared behind.  I'd never had a chance to have children.  I was too sick and I died too young, but I always wanted a few of them for myself.

"He's a handful."

I laughed, "I can see that."

As we walked, John told me a bit about his son, "He's strong willed and smart, scary smart and does he love.  He's a light, really."  As we reached John's wife Mary, he kissed her lips and then the brow of the boy she was holding in her arms, "This is my Sam, and my Mary."

I couldn't stop myself from touching the boy's cheek.  He had an angels face with blue eyes and dark hair.  "He's gorgeous."

Both parents beamed at me and then we all went inside.  Mary laid Sam down in his little bassinet and Dean went over to make funny faces at him.  I watched at those innocent blue eyes stared up in rapture as Sam even attempted a laugh.

Dean buzzed around the house, chatting, making noise, pushing little matchbox cars around and then leaving them where they lie.  He stopped and pulled a car out if his pants pocket before he brought it over to me and held it out.

"This one's just like Dad's car.  He said I can have it when I get older."

I crouched down in front of him an picked up the small, black car.  "Humm," I said, "looks like a '67 Chevy Impala!"

"Yep!" Dean said, "She's a beauty."

I choked back a laugh and nodded in agreement.  She sure was and oddly fitting his attitude, it would seem.

When I stood up, I looked around the kitchen and frowned.  It was... dated.  The colors and the appliances.  Not the new, sparkly kind that did almost everything for you.  Simple, mid-grade ones.  I glanced at the calender on the wall, July 1983.

I looked over and John and he just smiled.  "It is what you make it."

I thought about that for a while.  It didn't make sense.  If they could have their reality, this perfect life, then what was I doing here?  I had never met these people and I was Dean's age in '82.    

Before I manged to work any answers out, it was dinner time.  We all sat at the kitchen table, John at the head, Mary opposite with Sam's bassinet beside her in reaching distance.  Dean sat across the table from me and I had a perfect view of his shaggy mop and green eyes.

I had to force myself to not stare at him.  I couldn't figure out what the deal was, why I was so drawn to the boy.  I felt, protective of him and all I wanted to do was pull him in my arms and tell him that everything would be alright.  I would make it alright for him. Which of course, didn't make any sense because nothing was wrong.  Everything was perfect.

Dinner was nice, really.  Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary.  Roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy.  Green beans, which little Dean refused to eat because he wanted more beef.  The kid put it away the food, I'll give him that.

I helped Mary clean up and was ready to take my leave when Sam started to get fussy.  She was having a hard time calming him down and Dean started grumbling about a bed time story. Life, it seemed was the same everywhere.  Nights were always hectic after dinner.  Everyone scrambling to settle in and get ready for the next day.

Night was falling as the crickets began to sing their nights song.  The baby wailed and Dean whined and pouted for his own attention.  As much as he loved his little brother, he was still hardly more than a baby himself.  He needed to be held and comforted, sung and read to.

"Why don't I read Dean his story and the two of you can deal with the baby?" I told the couple, who in this reality weren't much older than me.  They both offered me a tired smile, each looking more than a little bit relieved, before they went off into the living room to sit and rock Sammy to sleep.

Dean reached up and took my hand, trust and innocence shinning in is eyes.  I smiled down at him and allowed him to lead the way to his bedroom.  I insisted he brush his teeth, knowing that his parents would also and then I tucked him in tight.

I checked under the bed for monsters and in the closet and assured him that there was no such thing as monsters.  Even as I said it, I felt a chill go up my spine, but I was sure, in heaven, there were no monsters.  

"So, what book to you want to hear?" I asked quietly and he handed me Green Eggs and Ham, by Dr. Seuss.

I giggled and shook my head.  I opened the book and started to read.

    "I would not, could not, in a box.
    I could not, would not, with a fox.
    I will not eat them with a mouse.
    I will not eat them in a house.
    I will not eat them here or there.
    I will not eat them anywhere.
    I do not eat green eggs and ham.
    I do not like them, Sam-I-am."

Dean giggled every time I said his brother's name and by the end of the book, I was in hopelessly in love with the little guy. The sharp, piercing sadness that filled my heart must have shown in my eyes because he reached out and touched my face.

"Don't cry, Claire.  You're too pretty to cry."

I gave him a wobbly smile and stood.  He was a charmer alright.  "Thank you, Dean.  Now, you go to sleep and have beautiful dreams."  

By the time I came down the steps, the house was quite and John was sitting alone, nursing a beer.  It was kind of shocked that they had beer in heaven but hey, why not, right?

It should have felt awkward, standing in the living room with a man I didn't know.  A married man, while his wife and children slept upstairs, but somehow it wasn't.  There wasn't any oddness in the air.  I felt almost as if I belonged there, like I could have been his daughter or a trusted family friend.

He smiled at me and motioned toward the couch.  "Mary took Sam up.  He's teething so he's extra fussy."  He handed me a beer and I took a long pull from it and truth be told, it was the best beer I had ever had.  Cold, crisp and smooth.

We sat in silence and listened to the clock tick for a few minutes before he cleared his throat.

"I guess you know where you are?"  He asked and I nodded.  "Do you remember what happened?"

"Brain tumor."  I told him and he grunted.

"See, most people don't remember, not really.  Mary kind of remembers how she got here, but we don't talk about it.  There is so much more pleasant things to talk about."

He didn't go into details of her death, but from the sound of his voice and the look in his face,  it didn't seem like it was very comforting.

"This," he gestured around the house, "this is all illusion.  Heaven is what you make it to be.  What you want.  That perfect day, year or hour. Here, you get to chose that perfect moment and live inside it forever."  He pinned me with his eyes and continued, "Heaven is different for everyone, but there are a few, like yourself, that ... wander."

"Wander?  I just got here.  I haven't had a chance to decided what moment I want to live in for eternity."  I looked around and sighed, "Truth is, I can't think of the perfect time or place.  Life was... ok.  Weird and almost random at times.  I can't remember what it felt like to be truly free and happy, except for when I was a child.  I don't want to spend my eternity as a child."  

John chuckled, "You didn't just get here, you stood outside the house for a human month, and have been inside for two."

I snorted in disbelief, "What?"

John let out a breath and picked at the label of his bottle, "Time has no real meaning here.  A few moments here is really months there, but in hell, it's different.  Ten minutes in hell feels like ten years."

Hell?  Why would he be talking about hell, here of all places?  "And you know this how?"

His eyes were sharp and hot, "Because I've been there."

Been to hell and back to heaven?  How? Before I could ask my question, he answered it.  "I clawed my way out, to help my boys, to save Dean's life.  Same way I ended up there in the first place."

I frowned, trying to understand what he was saying, "You went to hell to save Dean's life?"

"Yes and Dean's there now because he made a deal for Sam's."

"Dean's in hell?" I gasped softly and looked up.  That sweet boy was in hell?  "This doesn't make any sense."

"To most people, no, it doesn't make a lick of sense, but you know it, don't you?  You feel that somethings off.  You're drawn to Dean, right?"

I smiled, "Yeah, he's a sweet boy."

John shook his head, "Not any more.  Now he's a sharp, bitter man.  One that doesn't remember how to really smile and hides all his feelings inside until they turn toxic and poison him.  He loves his brother and gave up his life so he could live.  Dean doesn't think that he deserves to live."

I felt tears running down my face, "Why? What happened.  Tell me, why am I here?  I don't understand why you're telling me all of this."

"Sam is still alive, in reality, and he's got something bad inside of him, something evil.  Dean's gone, sold his soul to a demon so Sam could live.  He had one year to think about it.  One year to live before he was sent, bloody and broken down to the pit."

"One year."  I closed my eyes as I heard the words that were spoken to me. You have one year to live.  Inoperable.  Nothing we can do.  We're very sorry.  Here are some pamphlets for support groups.

"My dreams?"

John shook his head, "They weren't dreams, Claire.  Images maybe?  A link you have with Dean, I'm not sure.  I've known you were coming for a while now and I've tried to prepare myself for this talk but I just can't find the right words."  He looked at me, his dark eyes burning, "You need to go back, you need to help him."

"I don't want to go to hell, John."

He shook his head, "Not hell.  When Dean gets out of hell, they'll pull you out of here too.  That's why you'll never find the peace you seek here, not yet.  Not without him.  You have to go back and save him from himself."

"I don't know what you mean... how can I save him when I don't understand?  I don't know Dean, we've never met."

There was a knock at the door but John didn't bother to get up and answer it.  The door swung open and a the brightest light I had ever seen glowed there.  I heard the flutter of wings and the the most beautiful voice speaking.

John stood and hugged me tight, "Save my boy, Claire.  His life is now in your hands."

I blinked as tears ran unchecked down my face, nothing made sense here. I turned to look at the light, making out the shape of what only could be an angel with wings.  He was painfully beautiful and I wept when he spoke.

"My name is Castiel and I am an angel of the Lord, sent to do his bidding.  It's time, Claire."  Castiel whispered and reached out to grab my arm.  "You'll have everything you need, but don't approach him until I tell you it's time."

I screamed as his hand touched my arm and then everything was a wash of blinding white light before there was nothing but blackness.  

Thanks to Sil for siggie!

Offline IceSamZero

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #1 on: Sat, Nov 22, 2008, 01:24 PM »
Wheeeee! Never even seen an ad for the show, FG, only icons and your siggies and stuff, and this makes me wanna watch the show like yesterday.

Just the prologue has me wantin' more! Serious, it's well written, hooked me. I loved the images you created w/the family, the house, and both the prep you set up for what's to come. Very cool! I haven't looked @ your Gdoc and now I'm torn--b/c now I wanna read and see what's up, and also b/c I wanna see how it plays out properly, waiting for the new chaps and stuff.

Shit, who am I kiddin? I am so going to your Gdoc now.  :happydance

Offline evilgrin

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #2 on: Sat, Nov 22, 2008, 01:38 PM »
Supernatural isn't really my thing but this is a good start :)

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Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #3 on: Sat, Nov 22, 2008, 01:41 PM »
Thanks, Elaine :kiss  No Wincesnt or Weencest, yeah, I just saw that one for the first time today.  Ick...

Hope you continue to read.

Thanks to Sil for siggie!

Offline Muddie

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #4 on: Sat, Nov 22, 2008, 01:58 PM »

Now I just have to remember to keep my mouth short about what's coming next and not ruin anything for everyone else.

And in regards to the Wincest.... THANK YOU! That kinda....skeeves me out.

Siggie courtesy of Cyren and her awesomeness. Le sigh.. Le purrr

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Offline princess_silence

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #5 on: Sun, Nov 23, 2008, 01:48 PM »
Quote from: "Muddie"
And in regards to the Wincest.... THANK YOU! That kinda....skeeves me out.

  ick! :rock

Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #6 on: Sun, Nov 23, 2008, 02:36 PM »
Thanks for the reviews guys... and yeah, young or older Dean, I want to scoop him up and give him big hugs and kisses.  


Thanks to Sil for siggie!

Offline tashataz

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #7 on: Mon, Nov 24, 2008, 06:25 PM »
Just found this story and I love SN!!

Great start, can't wait to see what you have up your sleeve!!
Stay true to yourself

Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #8 on: Tue, Nov 25, 2008, 11:23 AM »

All info taken from Super-wiki

Clockwise from far left:

Uriel: "Fire of God" is one of the Archangels usually associated with the apocalypse.

Uriel is often identified as a cherub and angel of repentance and is depicted as standing at the Gates of Eden with a fiery sword or as 'the angel who watches over thunder and terror.

Uriel was also the angel who discussed the fates of the leaders of the fallen angels, among them Azazel. According to the Revelation of Esdras, he is among the angels who will rule at the end of the world.  Uriel

Uriel hates Dean, hates humans as a matter of fact.  Calls them mud monkeys.  He seems to want to smite everyone and everything and wants to hurl Dean back into the pit.

Castiel: The Angel who rescued Dean from Hell, (and Claire from Heaven) according to Castiel on a command from God. His hand print is burnt into Dean's arm. His true voice is piercing to the human ear and only certain people can hear him properly this way or so he claims, and looking on his true visage will burn a humans eyes from their head Castiel

Admitted to Dean that "I have questions.  I have doubts.  I don't know what is right or what is wrong, anymore.... " "But in the coming months, you will have more decisions to make. I don't envy the weight that is on your shoulders, Dean."

Castiel seems to genuinely like Dean.

Sam:  Samuel Winchester was born second son to John and Mary Winchester. Sam is different from his 4 years older brother, Dean, in that he is rational, sensitive, and seemingly more concerned with living a "normal life" than his brother. In spite of this, it is apparent that he would do anything for Dean. He also rebelled against his father's attempts to raise him as a demon hunter and enrolled in Stanford University. When Dean came to ask Sam for his help in the first episode, the viewers are introduced to Jessica, Sam's girlfriend. It is apparent that Sam was somewhat popular, despite no one knowing what it is his family really does. His brother, Dean, is the only one allowed to call him by his nickname, Sammy.

Sam has been shown to have telekinesis and precognitive abilities (manifesting as visions). However, the telekinesis has only been shown once, under extreme pressure, while the precognitive abilities are the primary. They have occurred in several time, manifesting before the series, and continuing throughout the series.

Sam is one of the 'special children' chosen by Azazel, in fact he was Azazel's favorite. It if feared that Sam will one day turn evil. Recently, Dean saw a yellow shine to Sam's eyes, albeit briefly.

As time goes on, the boys hide more and more from each other.  


Ruby: Black eyed demon and has a knife that can kill demons, something that Bobby never heard of before.  Turns out, Ruby was once human, a witch, and sold her soul during the time of the plague.  Is in a sexual relationship with Sam.  Dean hates her, even though she's helped keep them both alive many many times.

Encourages Sam to use his physic powers to expel demons, something that Dean and the angels strongly discourage and something that just might make Sam turn dark and or faster. Ruby

Dean: Oldest of the Winchester boys.  He was 4 when his mother was murdered and then was giving the great responsibility of taking care of Sam while his father hunted the thing that killed her.  Dean held fast and stayed true to the path, but made one mistake when he was about 10.  He left Sam alone and he was almost killed.  Since then, he did just about everything his father ever asked him to do and became even more protective of his brother.

Made his first kill at the age of 16 and knew that hunting was what he wanted to do.

He has repeatedly almost died in the last few years and then finally did die after a massive car accident.  John gave his life so Dean could live, sending John to hell.  Dean knew and it ate away at him, thinking it should have been his time, not his fathers.  He also took the death of John very poorly, causing a rift between the the brothers.

Some of the last words that John spoke to Dean were something along the lines of, he had to protect Sam and keep him from turning evil, and if he couldn't do that, then he would have to kill him.

Sam was murdered after Azazel rounded up a bunch of 'special' children to see who would be the best leader.  Dean could not get over the death of his brother and he felt like he had failed both Sam and John.  He sought out a Crossroads Demon and made a deal with her.  His soul for Sam's life.  The normal deal is 10 years but because hell wanted Dean so bad, they only gave him one year.  If the boys or their friends tried to break the deal, Sam would drop dead on the spot.

After the year was up, Dean was dragged to hell by hell-hounds where he spent four 'human' months.  40 years in hell years.

Rescued from hell by the angel Castiel and now lives with the horror of what he has done.

Excellent marksman and considers himself a bit twisted.  Loves pie, women, porn and his car.  Dean

1967 Chevrolet Impala. Originally belonged to John. John sits with his children on the hood of the car while his house burns. John mentions that he gave the car to Dean.

Has a bench front seat and its gearshift is located on the steering column. It has a cassette player and radio, no CD player, although when Dean returns from Hell, Sam has made a modification in the form of anIpod Jack. Dean, offended, rips out the Ipod jack and tosses it onto the backseat. It hasn't been seen since then. There is a weapons compartment built into the trunk, with a combination lock on it. The combination is 11-02-83, the day that Mary died.  Impala

Claire:  OFC  Dean's soul-mate.  Shares the same date of birthday and death as Dean.  Died of a brain tumor and went to heaven, where she 'met' the Winchester's for the first time.  Though, Claire has never meet Dean in real life before their deaths, she has suffered greatly when he did, sharing dreams, imagines and pain with him.  Claire's life-force is somehow tied to Dean's and when he died, so did she, even briefly.

Castiel pulled her out of heaven to save Dean from himself and they both carry the handprint on their arms.  Has seen Castiel's true form and heard his true voice.

The true reason they have been saved and chosen has not been clear to either Clair or Dean yet.

At the same time Dean sold his soul to the crossroads demon, Claire was diagnosed with a brain tumor and given one year to live.  As a result, she started to have nightmares and dreams and figured it was because of the tumor.  This is how she has knowledge of the supernatural and a basic understanding on how to defend herself from them.

John: Husband of Mary, father of Dean and Sam.  Ex Marine.  Was a mechanic until Mary was killed.  He found her on the ceiling with blood on her abdomen and then she burst into flames.  He grabbed Sam and gave him to Dean and tried to save his wife.  Started a journal, which is now in Dean and Sam's possession, about all of the bad, nasty things he found out there while he searched for the demon that killed his wife.

Tried to trade the Colt to Azazel for Dean's life, but he also wanted John's.  John agreed and when to hell but Dean lived.  John

Became a hunter after his wife was possessed and he killed her.  Good friends with John and like a second father to Dean and Sam.  Bobby gets people to drink holy water to test whether they are possessed.

He's the go to man when Dean and Sam have questions.  Seems to have a book about everything there is supernatural and or religious.  Bobby

Alastair:   Alastair may be a reference to the demon Alastair in Christian demonology. Alastair is the chief executioner and torturer for the monarch of Hell. He is an exceptionally cruel demon. The name 'Alastair' became a common place term in reference to evil spirits or foul tempered individuals. He is also featured and mentioned throughout Greek literature and mythology.

He appears to be unaffected by Sam's powers and is able to mercilessly beat the brothers, while also appearing to be able to withstand being stabbed in the heart with Ruby's Knife. Has a showdown with Castiel and Uriel in which he seems to almost nearly kill Castiel.

Dean encountered Alastair in hell. He'd come to Dean every night, and offer to take Dean off the rack if Dean would start to torture souls.  Dean held out for 30 years, and for the last 10, did as Alastair asked.  Alastair said Dean has "Such promise".  Alastair

Mary: Wife of John, mother of Dean and Sam.  Murdered and burned by Azazel Nov 2, 1983 when she caught him giving his blood to Sam, who was 6 mos at the time.  Her death spurred John to take his boys on the road to hunt the "Yellow Eyed Demon" down and kill him.  It is later shown that in 1973, she made a deal with Azazel to bring John back to life, she would let him come into her home one night and allow him to do what he wants and no one would get her.  She walked in on him and he killed her for it.  Mary

The Demon that killed Mary and Sam's girlfriend Jessica, the same way.  He put a few drops of his blood in Sam's mouth when he was six months old.  The Yellow-Eyed Demon chose a group of Special Children to take part in war against humanity. The demon that John made a deal with, his life and the Colt, for Dean's life.  Dean, with a little bit of help from John when he clawed his way out of hell, shot and killed him with the Colt.  Also known as The Yellow Eyed Demon and The Demon.  Azazel

Not Pictured

Devils Trap: The devilís trap is a mystical symbol used to immobilise and control demons, and also to prevent them entering a place, or gaining access to something.Devils trap

Dean's Amulet: Sam obtained the amulet from Uncle Bobby, who said it was 'real special'. Sam intends it as a Christmas present for John. But when John doesn't make it home fro Christmas, and after finding out that John has lied to him about his mother's death and hunting, Sam gives it to Dean. Amulet

The Colt:  
Back in 1835, when Halley's Comet was overhead, same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter. A man like us, only on horseback. Story goes, he made thirteen bullets. This hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. [..] how Daniel got his hands on it. They say... they say this gun can kill anything.

 ~ John Winchester

Dean used the Colt to kill Azazel, using the last remaining bullet.

Ruby helped Bobby rebuild the Colt so it can kill demons again.  Bela, stole the Colt and sold it to the highest bidder and is suspected to be half way around the world now.  Colt

Hell: The pit.  The hole.

Devil's Gate: The Winchesters along with Bobby and Ellen discover that Samuel Colt built a huge Devil's trap which is 100 miles across, in southern Wyoming. There is a church at each point and the sides of the pentacle are made of iron railroad lines. At the center, in an old cowboy cemetery, is a Devil's Gate - a literal door to hell.

The Azazel plans to open the Gate and use beings from Hell as soldiers in his supernatural war. The Colt is the key and once opened, Hundreds of beings, including demons, escape from Hell before Bobby and Ellen manage to close it. John Winchester is among those to escape, and he helps Dean kill the Azazel. John then disappears, but not before sharing an emotional moment with his sons.  It is my belief that this is when John goes to heaven, after he literally crawled out of hell.  Devil's Gate

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Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #9 on: Tue, Nov 25, 2008, 11:44 AM »
Chapter 1 Meeting the Winchesters
Warning: Spoilers though 4-10.  Language, mention of heaven, hell, demons and angels.  
Thanks to Muddie for beta.  

I looked at the outside of the dark, almost seedy bar and grimaced.  Why did they have to chose a place like this?  I always hated this kind of environment.  It was a meat market, both men and women on the prowl, looking to get drunk and laid.

It had taken me two months to get to this point.  Two months of planning and saving, of scarping and digging.  Months of following Sam and Dean's trail and creating false ones in their wake.  I had to keep my nose down and clean. I didn't want to tip them off that I was coming and they were used to looking over their shoulder for trouble.  I couldn't let the know how close I was, not until the time was right. I didn't want to scare them away, or worse, have them disappear on me. I was in limbo until Dean knew the truth about Sam, or at least some of it. He had to believe and be ready to deal with the truth, of what was coming and of what was already here.

During those months, I've shared his nightmares and feelings of hopelessness.  Felt his self loathing and disgust.  I've bathed in the love he has for his brother and wept when the pain of what Sam had started to become shredded him.  Dean went to hell to save Sam and in turn, set in motion the very thing they were trying to prevent all along.

When Dean finally saw the truth with his own eyes, it was then, finally, I was allowed to approach him.

I pulled open the heavy, scared door and began searching the dark corners, knowing that's where they would be. I strained my eyes to look through the neon and smoke to find the one man I've waited two lifetimes to meet.  I knew his name, but I couldn't find the candle to light his face.  I've had glimpses of him, in my mind, but all I can really remember are the eyes of a small boy.  Green eyes, dark blond hair and freckles. Nothing more.  Nothing solid of what the boy would look like as a man.

It was odd, considering everything else I knew about him for certain.  For some reason, his face was kept from me.  Even when looking directly at a photograph of him, I couldn't quite make out his features.  I took a deep breath while my heart hammered as I prepared to come face to face with the other half of my soul.    

I know what he'd suffered, all those long months of burning in hell.  I knew every cut, every burn that ate into his skin.  Every brutal thing he had done to him until, as strong as his will was, he broke.  Everyone broke in hell... everyone.  The evil that lurked there would always find that one weakness in you, no matter how long it took, they'd find it and when they did, they'd use it to their advantage.

A part of me was with him every time he woke up, his heart pounding, body coated in sweat, as fear, hate and bitterness clawed at his stomach.

I somehow knew that he can't stand the feel of hot water against his skin and that he only took cold showers now.  I could feel every lie that crossed his lips, every move he made to protect the one person that meant more to him than his own life.  The life of his baby brother.

He would suffer the fires of hell again, if it meant keeping Sammy safe, keeping Sam from becoming what he's destined to be.  Only now, he started to wonder if he can save him after all.  If there really was any hope left that Sam will see the light before its too late?  If Sam would stop using his powers to expel demons, sending them back to hell.  Or if Sam would wise up and stop sleeping with the demonic bitch Ruby.

Sam was Dean's everything and when he is gone, where will that leave me?

I'm not here to take Sam's place.  I'm here for Dean, for when his whole world falls apart once again. When he is faced with the final choice, kill the very person he has spent his whole life protecting, or allow a monster to go free.
I closed my eyes and even through the haze of beer and whiskey, I feel his soul crying out for mine.  His silent screams echoed in my head as he cried out for help.  For something that has never, not once, came to him since he was a small child.




I wonder if he can feel my soul trying to answer his call?  Trying to show him the light, the hope he so desperately needed.

My eyes snapped open and I turned to see a pair of men brooding at a table in the back.  One wore a pissed off look that matched his devil may care attitude and the other scowled and appeared to be a bit worried.

I smiled to myself, yeah, that was them alright.  The pissed off one, who I'm sure had to be Dean, lifted his head and looked my way.  I felt my breath catch as I saw his face clearly for the first time. That was Dean Winchester.  The color of the eyes were the same, the shape of the lips, but that sweet little boy was long gone.  Killed over and over again by violence and death.

He was beautiful still, in a masculine sort of way, but his eyes burned me.  It was there that you saw what the man had become.  In his eyes, you could see the pain of loss and the knowledge of things only fit for those whose souls were as black as night.  In his eyes, you see the man who'd been to hell and back and knows... it ain't over yet.    

He offered me something of a friendly, leering smile, but it never reached his eyes and I could see right through it.  He leaned over and then said something to Sam before they both turned and looked at me.

Sam just raised his brows and while I could see some interest in who I was, it's not the same kind that showed in Dean's eyes.

As much as Dean tried to play it up, the green was flat and bitter.  The smile fake and brittle.  It was all an illusion to keep Sam at ease, to hide how damaged Dean had really become.  I let him look, let him see what I was, who I was and wondered if he would recognized me for what I am?  Would he feel the connection we had in heaven.  It wasn't real, not for him, but it was still there for me, stronger even.

This was a wounded soul, yet I still could see that small sweet boy that sat across from me at the dinner table, the one that I wanted to pull in my arms and comfort.

Even after everything I had been through, I didn't look that different than any other early to mid twenties chick. I know what he saw when he looked at me. A tall, lean, blond haired woman in a pair of low riding jeans and white dress shirt, black coat, and black chunky heeled boots.  I doubt he could see that my eyes were brown as he took in my looks, my clothes and surely thought that I was out of his league.

He'd assume that I was snobby, maybe a bit rich, someone that would look down on him and laugh if he propositioned me, and that alone was the reason he would try.

He'd make a crack to Sam, after I shot him down, maybe call me a stuck up bitch, and he'd keep up the illusion of being a player when inside, he was dead.  

But if he looked close, he might see a sharp edge or two that came with the weight of what I carried.  From the knowledge that heaven and hell and really bad things do in fact exist.  Or perhaps, he'd see the opposite, see the soft that I tried hard to hide from most people, the soft that could get me killed before my mission was complete.

I kept Dean's eyes as I made my way over to him and I wondered what thought was going to happen when I got there.  As I reached their table, I looked down at both of them and smiled.

"Hi, boys.  Mind if I sit?" I asked.

Sam made a face, pushed out a chair and said, "Sure,"

Dean, who I can tell up close was about two and three quarter sheets to the wind, grinned and offered me a seat on his lap. Even went as far as sliding his chair out and patting his leg, like I was a dog.

I could tell he was going for shock value, he wanted to offend me and drive me away, and when I didn't flinch at his offer, he just gave me a 'your loss' look and took a long drink of his beer.

I just smiled softly and sat down opposite of him, same as I had at 'dinner' just a few short months ago.  Dean still seemed a bit annoyed that I didn't just strip and hop right on, even though it wasn't what he really wanted.  He was still thinking that something as simple as mindless, unemotional sex would help with the pain he had inside.  I knew better because I shared his pain and it was almost crippling to me.  I knew it had to be ten time worse for him. Still, I had shot him down and prickled his male pride, he didn't like that, or me, very much at the moment.

Dean shook his head at Sam, disgusted with what a bleeding heart he was and reached for another shot.  Before his hand closed over the rim of the glass, I put my palm over it and said, "I think you've had enough... Dean."

Dean sneered at me and Sam whipped his head around fast and narrowed his eyes on me.

"How do you know my name?" Dean slurred.

I just smiled at him again and shrugged, "I know a lot of things about both of you.  More than you want me to know, that's for sure."

Dean glared at me and Sam shifted a bit to face me and get better access to his weapon.  

"What do you want?" Sam asked, his voice hard as his face lost all openness.

These two were going to be a hard nut to crack, that's for sure.  Castiel warmed me that they were combative.  Uriel said they were stubborn, thick skulled, knuckleheads.  I think they both might have been right.

"I'm Claire." I said and offed my other hand to Dean, who refused to shake it.

"Great." Dean said snidely, "What a cookie?"

"Dean," Sam hissed, "You don't need to be rude."

I found that interesting.  Even while Sam was at the ready, willing to fight, he still tried to act polite.  It was intriguing and only added to the building differences between them.  I could tell Sam was closed off and I wasn't going to get any information out of them at the moment, but still, Sam insisted they remain civil.  It must have come from their father, drummed in their heads along with everything else they needed to know to make them the men they were now.  

Dean snorted again and rolled his eyes.  I almost laughed, if it wasn't so sad.  My poor sweet little boy, so cynical.

"Sam, but I guess you know that already.  What do you want?"  Sam, every the researcher.  Trying to find out why I was there and if I posed a threat to either one of them.  

"We need to talk, boys."  I said smoothly and waited for their reaction.

Sam sat stiffly beside me and Dean's eyes went bright as he tried to move the glass from under my palm. "First off, it's not your business how much I drink."  He smiled smugly, "If your worried I won't be able to perform, it's never been a problem before, sweetheart."  

It hurt for some reason hearing him stay that.  Just thinking about him touching other women when he should have been me all along, but I didn't let it show.  I couldn't afford to let it show, not yet.

"Then give me your keys."  I said tiredly and hoped that Dean didn't hear the hurt in my voice that I did.  I just wanted to get out of there, to sober them both and get this over with.  It's been like a sore eating away at me for the last two months.  When we would meet, how?  What would happen when we finally met up.  Nothing was going as planned, not one thing.  Dean was more broken than I had anticipated and Sam was enabling him in his own way.  Then again, he knew Dean better than me.  Sam was the kind to sit back and let Dean come to him when he was ready, I didn't have that kind of time.  I would be forced to pressure him into talking and that wasn't going to be pleasant at all.

Dean laughed, "Right, sister.  You're not gettin' my keys."

I could feel my control starting to slip and took a deep breath, "And you're not getting behind the wheel," I look over at Sam and then back at Dean, "either of you."  I lean in and whispered to Dean, "Are you so anxious to go back to hell?"

Dean yanked his hand and the shot glass from under mine and slammed the whiskey back with a smug grin as he smacked his lips.  "Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.  'Sides, they're keeping a room, just for me."  He sniffed and continued, "It's nice really... warm..."

My eyes fell to his lips as he talked and I couldn't help but notice how full and soft they looked.

"Dean?" Sam said softly, "Maybe you should..."

"What, Sammy?  Stop? Give some random chick the keys to my car?  I don't care how cute she is, no one drives me baby."

I gritted my teeth and said, "You're so damn blind drunk I could have warts on my face for all you know.  Now, give me the damn keys.  We got shit to discuss."

Dean leaned back in his chair and tried to flag down the waitress for another round.  "Hit the road, Lady.  You're more of a buzz kill than my brother, and that's sayin' something."

It was hard for me, at this point, to remember what he'd been through.  What he had seen.  I wanted to slap him, but he was drunk and pissed and a whole lot bitter.  He had a right to be, I wouldn't deny that, I wouldn't take that away from him, but I sure the hell didn't like his tone.

With the patience I didn't know I possessed, I touched his hand, so large and warm as I slid my thumb under his, nestled it in the warm expanse of his palm and smiled.  "You really should watch those endearments, Dean.  I don't want to start this out with more pain and anger.  I think we both have had enough of those to last several more lifetimes."

Dean just looked at me, his green eyes slightly blurry and burning.  I knew he was trying to think, to recall if he knew me from somewhere, from another time, but he was coming up empty.

I looked at Sam and then back at Dean, "I'm not a vampire or a demon, or what ever else you two boys like to play with; I wear a cross and you can spill all the holy water on me that you want and I won't burn."

I shucked my woolen coat and slowly unbuttoned my shirt. I hid my smile as Dean's interest became keen and sharp.  I pushed aside my white shirt, baring my upper left arm to Dean, revealing my branded hand print.

Dean cursed and his eyes snapped to mine and for a moment, everything went silent.  A few heartbeats passed before Sam started firing off questions.

I adjusted my shirt and buttoned it back up before I put my coat back on.  Still, Sam asked question after question while Dean just... sat there... quiet and withdrawn.

"Stop." I said and held up my hand. "Not here.  Dean, please, give me the keys.  I have a room next to yours, we'll go there, sober the two of you up and talk.  We have a lot to talk about."

After a moments hesitation, both men stood at the same time, as a unit, as brothers.  I felt out of place and out of my depth with them on their feet.  I stood and felt oddly comforted when when they walled me in as we began to walk.  Sam was on my right, Dean on my left.  I stopped at the bar and got us some bottled water and then we stepped out into the damp, cold night.

Thanks to Sil for siggie!

Offline evilgrin

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #10 on: Tue, Nov 25, 2008, 12:04 PM »
Nice description of the bar!

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline princess_silence

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #11 on: Wed, Nov 26, 2008, 06:27 PM »
:happykiss I can't wait for the next chapter!!!!

Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #12 on: Wed, Nov 26, 2008, 06:39 PM »
Thanks for the great review, PS.  I know there isn't that big of a following here for Supernatural, but I like how this one is going so far and your welcome about the bio's.  I put it there, also, in case some people that don't know much or anything about Supernatural cared to bother and read this.  This way, they got a sense of what is what and who is who.  


Thanks again for reading... it makes me feel good!

Thanks to Sil for siggie!

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #13 on: Wed, Nov 26, 2008, 07:00 PM »

Offline silver

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #14 on: Sun, Nov 30, 2008, 09:00 AM »
Hey FG--just read the prologue & wanted to post.
I haven't seen or read Supernatural, so I really have no frame of reference, all I can comment on is the story you've given us!

Your "voice" in this is so very different; you must have submerged yourself into it completely.
The setting was very intriguing, but odd....eerie.  That "normal" evening was somehow very unsettling.

The story the father tells was dynamite; I wanted to say "Wait a've been to hell?  he's in hell?  Life for his brother...?"
And then, hard on that info, the angel comes & snatches her away!

Very interesting stuff...thought-provoking.  I can understand the draw of the show!

I'll try to keep up...


Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #15 on: Sun, Nov 30, 2008, 09:52 AM »
Wow, Thanks Silver.. I love the show, it's really great and John's actions and "story" is what pretty much happened in the show.  There is a bio sheet posted w/ pix and bios and that will help you see the charries too... I hope you continue to read and I've only got the bio and chappie one posted so far, so it wouldn't be too hard to keep up, yet :kiss  Thanks for reading!

Thanks to Sil for siggie!

Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #16 on: Tue, Dec 02, 2008, 07:07 AM »
Chapter 2: Cars, Motel Rooms and Pie
Warning: Talk of the supernatural, death, heaven and hell, angels and demons.  Language.  Spoilers from all season and up to 4-10.  AU, No Ana, but things taken from those shows.
Thanks to Muddie for beta and I have added a bit here and there, so if you see a nit, pm me, and I'll fix it.
A/N: ended up breaking this up into 2 chappies.

It was November 2nd and already starting to flurry!  I know what the date meant to them both and I know they had a good reason to be in the shape they were in, especially Dean.  It was the day that they had lost their mother, the day that their world shattered.  It was also that day the innocent, loving boy I had met in heaven ceased to exist. It was the day that the beautiful, angelic Sam got his first taste of true evil.

Life as the Winchester's had known it came to a screeching halt.  John lost the love of his life, Dean lost the only woman he's ever really loved and two little boys lost their chance at the American dream.

I looked up and watched the flurries flutter to the ground as we walked to Dean's car.  I slipped on a patch of ice and before I could hit the ground, Dean had me in his arms.  Our eyes locked and my breath caught for a moment before he let me go and grumbled something about me being more careful.

Mortified, I swallowed and shivered.  I wasn't cold until I felt the heat of Dean's hand on my skin.  It burned me, branded me as sure as Castiel's had done.  Now all I wanted was to feel his touch again, even a brush of fingers, anything.  My body cried out for it, my soul yearned for it.  Instead, we all stood, freezing, as we waited to see who would drive.

"Dean, give her the keys." Sam implored tiredly.

Dean just sneered at me before he sighed hugely and finally handed them over.  I kept my smile to myself as I got behind the wheel where Dean had spent an exorbitant amount of time both before hell and after.

The soft leather creaked and the doors squeaked but the engine purred as soon as I turned the key.  It'd been a while since I had driven a vintage car.  My father had owned one and the memory was sharp and painful.  I missed my parents, missed my old life but I was dead to them.  No way to go back and explain where I had been and how I was back.  I still had a hard time wrapping my brain around it and I lived it.

I had lost everything that I had ever known for a man I had never met.  A man that, obviously, wanted no parts of me. I should have stayed dead, stayed in heaven, even if I did end up wandering.

I glanced over at the man beside me and shook my head.  No, I could never let him suffer like he has for the rest of eternity.  I needed to save him, for me and for him.  Both of our souls were on the line.

With a painful breath, I put the car in reverse and eased her from her parking spot and onto the road, nice and slow.  I knew if I hurt Dean's baby, he'd never forgive me.

The hotel we were staying in was only about a six minute drive and Dean sat, stiff and alert in the seat beside me the whole time.  Sam sat in the back, his head to the side as he watched the night pass by.

I parked next to my car, a 2009 Dodge Challenger in Brilliant Black Crystal Pearlcoat. As soon as I shut down the Impala, I handed the keys back to Dean who pocketed them with a relieved look.  I smiled at him and I really wanted to touch him, but I held back.  We're not ready for that... he's not ready for it yet.

"I'd never hurt your car, Dean.  I know how much she means to you."  And I did.  I remember that little boy, showing off his matchbox car.  I could see it in his eyes, he couldn't wait to get old enough to drive his Dad's cool car.  Now he had it, and nothing else of the man he loved.

Dean's car had been the one constant in his life.  The one thing that had always been there.  His car represented home to him.  A sanctuary.

I turned and looked over his shoulder, "How do you like mine?" I ask Sam with a grin.  I loved my car. Sure, she was new and didn't hold the memories that the Impala did, but she was pretty. A thing of beauty as far as I was concerned.  Different make, different model, slightly different color, but I loved her just the same.  What was even nicer, she was funded from the man up above.

Dean got out of the Impala and shrugged, muttering something about it being 'nice'.  I snorted and grinned at Sam.  I could tell he liked it but would never admit it, especially standing beside his baby.  He didn't want to hurt her feelings.

Sam snorted, "It's more than nice, Dean.  Look at it, it's loaded and wow, it even has a CD player.  Imagine that?" The sarcasm was so thick in Sam's voice that it actually dripped in the air.

Dean frowned, seriouslly offended, and petted his car for a moment, "Shh, Sammy, she'll hear you."

Laughing I needled Dean more, "Yep, CD, DVD, iPod.  You name it, she's got it."

"Computers fuck everything up." Dean growled and I just shook my head.  There was no changing his mind.  That's fine... Dean was Dean and I wasn't there to change him, only save him.

Save him from himself.

That's what John and Castiel said.  Uriel said that there was no hope for the boy and he should go back in the pit where he clearly belonged. I'm still not sure I liked Uriel all that much. He is pretty bitter and pissed off for an angel that is supposed to be almost emotionless.  His views are kind of skewed and he lived to smite people.  I guess that there is a use for that kind of thing, but God didn't want Dean smitted, at least that's what Castiel claimed.

I looked at Dean, really looked.  He was tired, I could see the small lines around his eyes.  Lines that shouldn't be there on someone a few months shy of their 30th birthday, but they were there just the same.  He has had a hard life, an almost impossible one the last few years and I think he wanted nothing more than to be left alone.  To fade away to where there is nothing and no one.  No one needing his help, needing saved.  No one needing his protection. He didn't want to go back to hell, he didn't belong there, but he felt he didn't belong in heaven either.  Of course the fact that he doesn't really believe in it makes that one even stickier.

How was I to convince a man that had just spent the last forty years burning in hell that heaven wanted him fighting on their side?  Where would I even begin?  

"Yeah, sometimes." I said quietly.  I looked at the two cars we stood between.  It's kind of symbolic, really.  The old ways meeting new.  "I like the look of the old school, but I love the plush and the gas mileage of the new.  How many miles per gallon does that beast get?" I asked, kicking one of the Impala's wheels.

Dean scowled hard at me and I just laughed.  "Right, this way then."

I unlocked my motel room and stood back as both half drunken men pulled their guns and did a sweep of the room.  To be fair, Dean had sobered up quickly and seemed fully lucid and alert.  He must have one hell of a metabolism.  Still, they both reeked of alcohol.

My room was fully equipped, so I told them to sit as I checked the fridge for some grub.  There wasn't much, I never knew when and for how long I was going to be there.

I looked around the room and my eyes fell to the one king sized bed.  It was where I woke up, this very room was where I started living again.  I had become attached to his crappy interior and shitty little cook top.  It had, some how, become my home base.

I had money, stuff I had managed to put away before I died for reason's that made no sense at the time and some that I managed to squeeze out of Castiel.  After hours of discussion about sins, I finally had him convinced that it wasn't practical to do God's work, all the while steeling and committing credit card fraud.  The next day, when I checked my bank account, I almost choked, but what really got me, what rocked my core and made it all real was, the account was in both mine and Dean's name.  And there was not a penny for Sam.

Clearly, the lines had been draw.  Sam would have to do it the hard way, with no help from the man upstairs.  That shocked and disturbed me.  I had been raised to believe that God never gave up on anyone, that he was there for you when you finally saw the light, but it seemed to me that God or the angles or heaven itself had turned its back on Sam.  That broke my heart because I could still picture that small, angelic little baby that cooed and smiled up at his brother like he was the light of the world.  Maybe he was, but right now, hope and joy, love and happiness were dulled and blurred while pain and hate, anger and vengeance were sharp and real.

What I had done next went against heavens wishes and it could very well come back to bit me in the ass, but I was doing it for Dean and that sweet angel faced little boy.  I opened an account in Sam's name and deposited a hefty sum in it.  Dean was secondary and would be able to withdraw the monies if he ever felt the need, but I knew he wouldn't.  No mater what Sam did, Dean would never take away from him.

I felt my heart squeeze and wondered, if not for the first time, if I wasn't fucking this all up.  I knew that Castiel had to know what I did, but he never said a word, and for that, I was grateful.

Shaking my head to bring it back to the now, I snagged some soda, which Dean bitched about, grumbling about wanting another beer.  I had a few, but he wasn't gonna get any. He needed a clear head for what I was about to drop in his lap and by his halfhearted protests, I think he knew it too.

I reheated some pasta and chicken I had left over, and grabbed some bread and butter.  I put it all in the middle of the table and chuckled when Dean helped himself.  Sam smiled gently and said thanks, which prompted Dean to say it, with a mouth full of bread.

It was shocking, seeing how kind and tenderhearted Sam was when I knew the truth of what he was destined to be.  I hoped that maybe he could beat it, if he fought with every breath he took for the rest of his life, but I wasn't very optimistic.

The kind of darkness that wanted him wouldn't give up.  That kind of evil was like an oil slick that kept growing and spreading over your soul until it consumed you.  With every kill he made, every demon he exorcised with his mind, he was brought one step closer to the darkness.

We all ate quietly, and then I blinked to find both men looking at me and blushed. Dean looked skeptical once again and ready to fight if need be while Sam looked uncomfortable and ... shy?

I cleared my throat, looked at Dean, found his eyes and the strength I need to start telling my tale. "I guess you have some questions."

He snorted, looked pointedly at my arm where my scar was and replied, "Yeah, you could say that."

Sam jerked his chin, "Did Castiel give you that too?"

I nodded, "Yes."

"What did you do, to get thrown in the pit?"  Dean asked me, his green eyes full of speculation and condemnation.            

I closed my eyes and let out a breath.  This was the hard part, reliving it all over again.  Telling my story to two men I hardly knew, but they needed to know.  Dean needed to know, but it was a risk telling Sam. I also knew that if I made Sam leave though, Dean would go also.
I pushed my plate away, stood and grabbed the lemon meringue pie I had bought earlier and put on some coffee.  The whole time I felt their eyes on me and heard them whispering back in forth to each other.  I didn't bother to listen to what they were saying, I already knew.

I somehow knew about everything Dean had been through, and that's what had disturbed me the most.  All the evil that they had destroyed, all the blood they had spilled to save lives and what did it get them?  It got Dean sent to hell and it had the worse of the worst hot on Sam's trial to either kill him or worship him.  The thought was sickening.  Sam didn't deserve this.  That sweet baby that looked up at his brother with nothing but love and innocence didn't deserve the shadows that danced in his eyes.

Dean didn't trust me, didn't really like me but Sam was till a bit more open.  He was interesting in finding out what my story was, how I had come to be saved like Dean had been by Castiel.  His inquisitive mind would never rest until he knew the answers, whether Dean or I cared to share them.

I dished out the pie, giving each one of the boys a huge piece and poured coffee for them as my tea brewed.  Black for Dean, sugar and creamer for Sam, honey and cream for me.  Then, there was nothing left to do or fuss about, no way I could avoid their questions any longer.  I grabbed my journal and sat back down at the table.

My journal was a black leather bound book about nine inches long and seven wide and kind of beat up.  There were quite a few pages in it filled with my hand writing, some with clippings about me and one of them was my obituary. It was in the room when I woke and I can only assume that Castiel had something to do with that also.

With one last long look at Dean, I opened my book, cleared my throat and started reading...

Thanks to Sil for siggie!

Offline princess_silence

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #17 on: Wed, Dec 03, 2008, 02:34 PM »
Darn I hate not getting alerts! I missed this one again!! but anyways...
 :kiss Absolutely awesome update FG!! I love Deans obsession with his car..
I think you've hit the nail on the head when you described it as "the one constant thing in his life".
No matter how many people leave him and all the shit that happens, he'll always have his baby.
But seriously.. how could you leave the chapter there??
Darn cliffies!!!!!! Not fair! Can't wait for more!

Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #18 on: Wed, Dec 03, 2008, 02:36 PM »
It was too long, PS hahaha, I think I'll post it tomorrow.. if you're good :ggrin

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #19 on: Wed, Dec 03, 2008, 03:09 PM »
Too long?? pffft.. never too long!!!

Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #20 on: Wed, Dec 03, 2008, 03:20 PM »
if was half of what I had down... I got like 11,000 words and the chappie was over 5,000.  :ggrin

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #21 on: Thu, Dec 04, 2008, 06:54 AM »
Chapter 3 A Life for A Life
Warning: Language, talk of the supernatural, angels, demons and other stuff like that.  Talk of death.
Thanks to Muddie for beta

Quoted entries are taken from Claire's journal.


"January 17, 2006

I woke up this morning, mostly dead.  Yeah, doesn't make much sense to write it or to hear it.  I just woke up in heart failure, no signs, no symptoms, no reason.  Just with a heart, damaged beyond repair.  The doctors told me and my parents that I have a few days, a couple of weeks at the most to live.

This doesn't make any sense.  No one in my family has had a heart issue, especially one at my age.  So why me?  What happened from last night 'till now that caused this?

The amount of damaged I have, the doctors tell me, didn't happen over night.  It had to happen over time or from something like an electrical shock, something with enough juice to kill most of my heart muscle.  But what? I haven't tried to stick anything in a wall outlet since I was three!

I ran three miles yesterday and now... now I can hardly hold the pen as I write this.  I should use my laptop, but this somehow seems more... permanent.  Who knows, what fried me could fry it and all this would be lost.  

How do I grasp what has happened here?  How do I say goodbye to life?  I can see it in Mom and Dad's eyes, the pain of losing. Dad's the worst, but Mom thinks that if she prays enough, a miracle will happen.  I don't expect that.  Miracles don't happen to people like me.  I'm nothing special, just a girl that got a raw deal.  There are a lot of girls like me in this world...all of dying before we're ready. Before we had a chance to make a difference or to have a child to love and remember you once you're gone.  Guess it's better that way.

Still, this way is better than cancer or something.  At least this will be quick.  No chemo, no hanging on for months or years, hoping and praying as I waste away to nothing until I can do nothing more than wish for death.

Shit, that sounds so morbid.  When did I become so morbid?  So dark?  Guess death will do that to a person.

I tell Mom and Dad that it'll be ok.  That I'll see Gram and Pappy in heaven to comfort them.  But how could it, their only child is dying at the age of 26 and they're helpless to stop it.  Wonder if I'll live one more week to see 27?

I always knew life wasn't fair and this just proves it.  Damn, I never even had the chance to fall in love...."

I looked up from my book and notice that neither man would look at me.  Sam was frowning... obviously thinking, but Dean?  He looked ashamed and did he have tears in his eyes? That didn't make any sense at all, then again, nothing really had for years now.

"January 17th?  That's when..." Sam said but Dean cut him off.

"Yeah.  I got electrocuted."

"They gave you a few days, a couple of weeks at the most."  Sam whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

I looked at Dean as he tried to meet my eyes, succeeded for about a second, then looked away again to push is half eaten piece of pie around his plate.

Something was here, we all saw that now.  I had my suspicions, when everything came to a head up in heaven, but now they were finally confirmed.

"So, what happened?"  Dean asked, his voice thick and raw with emotions that threatened to swamp us all.

The memory of the events, though mine were slightly different, still chaffed.  Fear and pain of death still echoed in our heads and hearts.  It was a close call, a very close call.  I, have yet, to figured out how we lived.  

I clear the burning lump from my throat again and read some more.

"January 19, 2006

I checked out of the hospital today.  Figured if I was going to die, I might as well do it at home, right? Mom and Dad took me back to the house, not my apartment. They don't want me to be alone and I'm not sure of what I wanted, to be alone or with them?  Guess it doesn't really matter now.

I'm dying.

There I said it.  I'm dying and the only thing I have left to do is see to their comfort and help them deal with losing me.

I let mom fuss and I drink her tea and eat as much of her soup as I can but I get so tried... so tried...

I want to close my eyes and float away.  The pain in my chest is overwhelming.  Each breath is a struggle, each heartbeat is a chore.  I feel myself slipping farther and now it seems like a floaty cloud surrounds me.  Everything is hazy, washed in mist and white and all I can do is sit and watch the rest of the world... live."

"January 21, 2006

I woke up from my nap today feeling fine.  I feel better than fine, really.  I feel... perfect.  Whole and strong.  I showered and the hot water didn't restrict my breathing.  I got dressed in clothes that now hung on my body and didn't feel lightheaded and tired.

I jogged down the step to the kitchen, starving, and I think it was my parents that almost had the heart attack.  Dad jumped up from his chair, picked me up and tried to carry me back to bed but I laughed and insisted he put me down.

Mom, well... she's sure that her miracle came true and maybe it did.  Who knows?  I feel great and it looks like I'll live to see my birthday after all.  All I know is that when we went back to see the doctor, he told me that there is nothing wrong with my heart.  That there is no sign that there ever was.  He was stumped, all his fellow doctors were stumped but, me, I didn't really care how it happened.  I was alive and planned on staying that way for a very long time.

My parents took me to another hospital and got a second opinion and that doctor said the same thing.  I'm fit, whole and strong.  No heart problems at all.  He just shook his head when we showed him the tests and paper work.

So?  What's the deal?  Did I have some kind of virus?  Some sort of... attack?  Was I misdiagnosed?  I think I want to know, but have a feeling that I'm better off in the dark on this one.

All I know is, as I woke up, in the haze of sleep and dreams, I saw a man.  I don't know if he was real or dream but I saw him clear enough, his image burned in to my brain and I had to draw a picture.


"Let me see!"  Dean cried hoarsely. He scowled at the drawing and then looked at Sam, "It's the reaper."

"You sure." Sam said.

"Of course I'm sure, Sam.  He had his hands on my head."

I took a deep breath and looked at Dean, "So, this reaper, he was after you?"

Dean shook his head, his eyes finding Sam again and we all watched as his jaw ticked.  Sam gave Dean a small head shake and I growled and stood.

"Look, I don't really know fully what's going on, I've only got bits and pieces, flashes, but I know what you guys do, ok.  I know that there are things out there, bad things.  I know that something else, be it heaven or hell, had a hand in keep me, keeping us alive and I want to know what!"

Dean's green eyes settled on me and burrowed in deep.  After a few breathless moments, they slid down to my left arm once again and he whispered, "I guess you do."  

I unbuttoned my shirt, reviling my tank top, and slid it off before I sat back down beside him.  I picked up his hand and put it over my mark I pushed up the sleeve of his t-shirt. I placed my hand over his print and looked deep into his eyes.  

The marks were a perfect match, clearly the same hand had touched us both and pulled us back into the world of the living.

"Dean," I said softly, "I'm here to help you."

His eyes shifted down to my brand and his hand before he moved and slid his fingers slowly away. I mirrored the move on him, knowing that he was pulling back, withdrawing inside and he didn't want me touching him.  I was surprised that he allowed it for as long as he had.

I shivered at the lack of contact with him and I felt raw and open, more alone than ever before.  As I sat there, ripped open and bleeding out, I realized I was feeling what he was feeling.

"Tell me what happened."

Dean cleared his throat and spoke softly.  His voice was deeper now than before, sexy. His eyes shifted from me, the mark, to the table and Sam all the way back again.  Never resting for longer than a moment on any of it.

"Sam took me to a faith healer, but the healer's wife was into black magic and bound a Reaper to her. The Reaper, or her, I'm not sure which, would chose someone to heal.  The Reaper would place his hands on a chosen victims head, take their life and then 'heal' the sick.  A life for a life. So at first, he healed me, but then I pissed off the wife and she sent him after me."

Sam, trying to lighten the mood grinned, "Which he's extremely good at."

Dean just pursed his lips but continued, "Someone died so I could live and I couldn't allow that.  So he came after me when we tried to stop it from happening again."

A life for a life. Knowing Dean, even as little as I did, I knew that would eat at him.  Someone else had died to save his life.  He didn't yet see that it also saved my life. Two for one, not that it made it any better.  

"I lived because you did." I whispered and he looked up at me, both him and Sam did.  Dean turned to Sam who shrugged and shook his head.

"I've never heard of anything like this... maybe Bobby..." Sam muttered and trailed off.

"So, the Reaper came after you?" I asked, desperate to understand what had happened.  How I had survived.

Taking a long drink of coffee, Dean nodded, "Yeah, a few days later.  He was ordered to take my life to save a woman from a brain tumor."

I sucked in a breath and doubled over.  What a punch to the gut, a brain tumor, how quaint.  It was, after all, what had killed me in the end. A tumor that kind of appeared out of nowhere, just like my heart problem, but this time, there was no magic wake up and recovery.  The doctors said that I could have had it for a few years before I became symptomatic and the time line is just to damn perfect.  

Sam jumped up and rushed over to me as Dean dropped down to his knees in front of me.  "Are you ok?"

I shook my head and didn't try to hide my tears.  The irony of it made me want to throw up.  I sniffed and tired to wipe my eyes, but couldn't stem the flow of tears.  "That would explain the splitting headache I got the next day where I was sure my head was going to explode."

Dean stood up and began to pace the room.

"No, Claire, it explains nothing.  This doesn't make any sense.  Why would you get sick because of me?  That shit doesn't happen, even in our," he pointed to Sam and him, "world."

I laughed, really laughed and cried at the same time and they both looked at me like I was crazy.  Maybe I was, maybe I was really just in some mental hospital somewhere and this was all a drug induced dream.  If only I was ever that lucky.

How could I make them understand what it was like from my point of view.

"Dean," I said calmly, though a bit watery.  "Dean," I repeated and waited for him to turn and look at me.  My smile was soft when I looked up into his face.  He was so hard, trying desperately to not feel anything.  "Ask me how I died." He shook his head, never breaking eye contact with me.  "Ask me how and ask me when."

"I don't want to know." He said, his voice breaking.  "I don't want to know."

I stood up and went to him.  "You need to know, all of it.  Both of you need to know."  I watched as he shook his head in denial and a single tear escaped to run down his scruffy cheek.

He was so beautiful and pure in his pain.  This was the boy, the man, that felt and loved deeply, wholly. I reached up and brushed that single tear away with my thumb and he didn't move.

"It was a brain tumor," I told him and he squeezed his eyes shut against the truth.  "My name is Claire Louise Montgomery. I was born January 24, 1979 and I died..."

"Stop!" Dean demanded quietly through clenched teeth but I shook my head.  I watched his chin quiver, "Please stop." He begged me and as much as I wanted to, as much as I wished I could spare him anymore pain, he had to know.

I took a deep breath and felt my own eyes welling up.  I didn't want to hurt him, I'd rather die again than ever hurt him, but there was no other choice. "I died May 15, 2008."

Dean's eyes snapped open and burned into me hotly.  They almost glowed in the low light, glistened with tears and pain.  "Damn you for this." He whispered and tried to shove me away.  I grabbed him by the upper arms and held tight.  I needed him right now as much as he needed me.

I put my forehead against his and felt his body tremble against mine, "Why are you doing this to me?" He asked in a broken voice as his body shook under my hands.

My own throat was so swollen, so clogged with tears I couldn't speak right away.  After a few swallows, I choked out, "I'm sorry, Dean.  I don't want to hurt you and I'm not doing anything but telling you the truth, the whole truth."

I could feel the slight change in him, feel that he wasn't pushing me away anymore but gripping me tight, holding on.  Not pulling me closer, but holding on.  A center, a shoulder... someone who finally understood, really understood.

Sam spoke softly now and I had all but forgotten he was in the room.  I could hear the pain in his voice, tight with grief for his brother.  These two men ached and bled for one another.  How as I going to do this?

"Are you trying to say, everything that happened to Dean, happened to you, in some way or another."

I was silent for another moment as I stood, eyes closed, absorbing Dean's heat and scent before he allowed me to pull back and I nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

Contact broke away and we all just stood, alone, singular, fighting our personal demons as the cheep clock ticked on the wall and the sound of ice hitting the window filled the room.  We needed time, all of us, to deal with what we were feeling, with the truth and repercussions of my words.

I moved, unable to stand still a moment longer and I cleaned up the plates, putting them in the sink before I got myself a huge glass of water.  After drinking that down, I went in the bathroom to wash my face and pull my hair up.

When I came out, I was shocked to see that both men still there.  Sam was sitting in an ugly pea green 70's style chair beside the tacky gold drapes and Dean was on the bed like he had sat down on the edge and just gave up and laid back.  I wasn't sure if he was awake or not.  His chest rose and fell rhythmically and I could see a hint of his lean, rippled stomach.

Not knowing what I should do, I picked up the journal again and sat on the bed cross legged and put Dean's head in my lap. He didn't protest, just settled in and sighed.

"May 4, 2006

I think my heart is failing again, but I'm too scared and upset to call my parents.  I don't want to worry them for something they can't change.  All I know is that after dinner, I had a sharp, burning pain in my chest and now, it won't let up.  It hurts so damn bad, like something is clawing at my heart, trying to rip it out.

I'm going to go to the hospital and get checked out before I worry them anymore.  There's nothing they can do for me anyway."

May 5, 2006

The way I understand it, I didn't make it to the hospital on my own.  The way it was told to me is that I wrecked into a tree on the way here.  I'm not sure if I had a heart attack or what, but I hit a tree and smashed my head off the windshield.

I suffered massive head injuries and wasn't, once again, expected to make it.  My heart stopped, finally giving out, and I was dead for about a minute, then... I was back.  I made it.  I once again defied the odds and survived the unsurvivable.

I should be a vegetable, in a coma at the very least, but here I lay, doped up on pain meds, writing something in handwriting so bad that I'm sure only I'll be able to read, but I'm alive.  Busted to shit and back, but alive.

I have a broken pelvis and leg, even a broken arm and my head hurts like a bitch, but they say I'll make it... and they say my heart is fine..."


I closed the book and put it down beside me.  I just couldn't read another entry tonight.  I didn't have the strength.  Instead, I ran my fingers though Dean's short soft hair.  It was a few shades darker than it had been as a boy and I liked the spiky look on him. I eased my fingers down to his temples and rubbed gently.

Dean moaned in pleasure and wiggled his head to get a bit more comfortable.  I turned and looked at Sam watching us and our eyes just held.  No words needed to be spoken as we came to a silent agreement.  We'd both take care of Dean because he needed all the help he could get.

"What did you do to get sent to hell?"  Dean's voice was a mere whisper, more breath than sound and I leaned down over him and kissed him lightly on the lips.  When I pulled back, he was looking at me with those beautiful green eyes of his.

With a small shake of my head, I told him the one thing that would disturb him the most.  "I didn't go to hell, Dean." He blinked up at me like the words just wouldn't sink in.  "I went to heaven."

It was Sam that spoke, Sam's hiss of anger that vented Dean's outrage when he just didn't the strength to do it himself. "Castiel pulled you out of heaven?"

I didn't look away, didn't flinch or shrink under Dean's intense gaze.  "Yes."

Thanks to Sil for siggie!

Offline princess_silence

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #22 on: Thu, Dec 04, 2008, 02:37 PM »
:kiss Fantastic update as usual FG.. I can't get enough of this one! I'm just glad you updated for me, even though I still havent been good ;) Can't wait for more!

Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #23 on: Thu, Dec 04, 2008, 02:49 PM »
hee hee, thanks for the review and I'm glad it came across how I wanted it.  

Dean will feel like shit for her getting pulled out, but Claire wasn't ready to be there... not yet..

These two swing from one side to another... what shall happen next?????


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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #24 on: Thu, Dec 04, 2008, 03:14 PM »
Aww.. you're such a tease!! I'm gonna have to get some help finding out whats next!

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #25 on: Fri, Jan 09, 2009, 07:27 AM »
Chapter 4
Warning: Violence, hell gore/torture, Angels and demons, talk of God and sin, sexual contact, language.
Thanks to Princess Silence and Muddie for beta.

After a long look, Dean whispered, "I'm sorry." He frowned and I know he wanted to say something more, but what could you say to something like that?  

"Don't be.  I wasn't ready to be there..." Not without you, I thought, but knew it was too early to tell him that so I kept it to myself.

I shifted to pull the covers down, "Come on, it's late and we need to sleep.  We can talk more about this in the morning."

With a sigh, Dean stood and reached for his jacket.  I looked up at him, hoping my eyes would say the words that I didn't have the guts to speak.  "Dean?"

He turned and looked at me and I knew he knew what I wanted.

Feeling shy all of a sudden, I looked away, "I don't remember the last time I slept without a nightmare... maybe if you were here..."  I looked up at him but couldn't quite read what he was thinking.  I closed my eyes and nodded before I laid down.  "Just make sure you lock the door on the way out."  I flipped off the light switch by the bed and the room fell into shadows, the only light coming from the bathroom.

I heard the locks on the door before it squeaked open and then shut with a dull thud.  I let out a breath and tried, really hard not to cry.  I waited a few moments, listening for... something before I threw back the covers to make sure the locks were all engaged.

As I stood, my eyes fell onto the dark shape that stood, alone in the dark.  "Dean?"


I smiled and went to him before I laced my fingers in his and pulled him toward the bed.  He sat down heavily and unlaced his boots, each one of them clunking loudly on the thin, crappy carpet.  He stripped off the over shirt he had just put back on, but kept his t-shirt on before he moved to climb into bed.

I felt my cheeks burn, even in the dark, "Why don't you take off the jeans too.  I know how uncomfortable they are to sleep in."

I heard him chuckle and then the rasping of a zipper before the material thumped to the floor.  "Why don't you take off your pants too." He said, his voice husky.  It was a dare, to see how far I was willing to go.  How much I trusted him.  

Could we spend the night, in one bed, half naked and not touch each other?  Guess we were about to find out.  I shucked my pants and crawled under the covers.  I lifted the other side and waited for him to slide in beside me.  After some shifting and tugging on the covers we both laid on our backs and stared up into the dark.

"We should sleep."  I said quietly but felt my heart race just the same.  Fear and hope filled me, his heat and scent enveloped me, making me dizzy.

"I know." Came his quiet reply.  I had no way of knowing if he felt the same, even remotely.  

I licked my lips and let out a shuddering breath, "I'm always afraid of closing my eyes," I admitted, "Afraid what I might see when I do."

The bed moved as he shifted onto his stomach, avoiding the truth of my statement.  I know he hated it too, I also know it was usually his memories that I saw.  Knowing that the subject was closed and all talk was done for the night, I rolled to my side, facing him and placed my hand on his back.

He didn't jerk away, which was good so I just stroked him and petted the back of his head.  His hair was so soft and silky against my palm. His body was warm and supple and it still amazed me what we had been through.

We were dead and buried.  Dead and rotting in the ground.  Juicy flesh and worms and other disgusting things that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life.

I woke up on this very bed, but Dean?  He had to claw his way out from six feet under.  He woke up in a pine box, buried under six foot of dirt and had to bust his way out and when he did, he had found himself in the middle of nowhere.  How do I know this?  Because when I took my first breath, I felt him take his own, then I felt his fear, his struggle for life.  His rebirth.

I trembled, naked and sick as he searched for life, for water, then the ear shattering sounds started.  The connection was broken then, once Castiel tried to make contact with him and failed.

Perhaps he thought that if he could talk to me in his normal, angelic voice, than he could talk to Dean that way as well.  Dean couldn't hear him though, couldn't make out words in the high pitch sound that made his ears bleed and shattered the glass that surrounded him.  Maybe it was because Dean went to hell and I had witnessed pure bliss.  Heaven and the perfect existence? But I saw Castiel in his true form, I heard his true voice and it was beautiful, but it was nothing compared to the grief and pain laced voice of Dean's.    

Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself whispering to him...

"I would not, could not, in a box.
I could not, would not, with a fox.
I will not eat them with a mouse.
I will not eat them in a house.
I will not eat them here or there.
I will not eat them anywhere.
I do not eat green eggs and ham.
I do not like them, Sam-I-am."

He moved then, turned his head to pin me with a look and I felt my heart stop.  Had I made a huge mistake?  I didn't plan on reciting the story, it just kind of popped out.

"My Mom used to read me that story," he admitted softly, "It was my favorite."  He frowned as if the memory had just occurred to him.

I smiled and touched his eyebrow, "I know.  When I was in heaven, I read it to you."

That same brow arched, "You read me a story in heaven?"

He didn't believe, not really.  "Yeah.  Even ate dinner with you and your family.  It was all surreal."

"Tell me, please."  He shifted closer to me, turned toward me and put an arm around my hip to pull me closer.  Here, in the dark, he allowed some of the wall he used to protect himself to come down, if only briefly.

With our faces inches apart, I told him of my experience, of meeting John and Mary.  I could see the huge weight slide away when he knew, for certain, that they were together and happy.  I told him of his matchbox car and his bicycle.  Described the scent of his sheets and hair.

I watched as his eyes closed and his body loosened before his breathing evened out and deepened with sleep. I saw the hard edges soften as years of tension and worry melted away.

I felt contented and relieved as my eyes drifted shut and I too, slept.

I could hear screams.  Blood curdling screams.  Some were mine, but the rest belonged to the other tortured souls that shared my fate.  Pain, unimaginable pain ripped through me.  My side, my shoulder and I felt myself suspended in the middle of nothing as my skin slowly tore and gave way.

Heat.  Fire.  Burning.  Scents, burning flesh and hair.  Boiling blood and fluids.  Bones popped and cracked, shattered in pieces, exploded from extreme heat.  More pain.  My eyes bled as red and yellow filled my vision, blood filled my mouth until I was choking on it, drowning in it.

Flashes of light, all absence of it.  Pitch black.  Bright, mind numbing red.  Screams so loud my ear drums exploded with them and pain filled my head, pulled more screams from me.

A voice, disembodied, echoed in my head and I was once again whole. Pain in my shoulder and ribs was still there, but I was all in one piece.

Take me from the rack, the voice promised.  All I had to do was help torture others.  Help rip and render.

I ground out my reply and it all started over again.

I could hear screams.  Blood curdling screams....

I bolted upright with a small cry.  My heart was pounding and my skin and hair were damp.  I wiped at the tears that streaked my face and tried to get my bearings.  Where was I and who was whimpering.  I turned and saw Dean trashing around in bed beside me and everything snapped back in place.

I needed to wake him, to save him from the nightmarish reality that haunted his dreams.  I touched his shoulder and he screamed and fought even harder.  I pulled back, afraid of hurting him.  The pain in the dream had been extreme and intense and it was possible that he was still feeling it, I needed to do something that wouldn't hurt him.  Something soft and gentle.

Slowly, I reached out and brushed my fingers over his face and down to his throat.  He calmed slightly, which was good because I was afraid that Sam was going to kick in the door if he cried out again and shoot me for hurting him.

"Dean." I whispered his name and moved closer to him and whispered again.  "Dean, wake up.  It's ok.  You're safe.  It's me, Claire."

I touched his hair and began to sing to him.  I might not have the best voice, but I could carry a tune and I sang a lullaby that I had heard his mother sing to Sam, assuming she had sung it to him also at some point.

Dean's frantic, gasping breaths slowed and his muscles began to loosen.  I touched him again, put my hand over his handprint and brushed my lips over his brow.  With a deep exhale, his body went soft and loose.

His skin was damp and I could feel, almost hear, his heartbeat through his entire body.  He trembled as he fought for control and I gave him his time and kept my eyes off of his.

"Better?" I asked when his breathing evened and he nodded.


His voice was deeper than normal, raspy and very sexy.  Suddenly, I became very much aware of where I was at.  Half naked and laying over top of him, our bodies flush against one another.  Both of our shirts had been pushed up and I could feel the smooth skin of his stomach against my own.  My heart tripped again, but this time it wasn't out of fear.

I looked him right in the eyes as I lowered my mouth toward his.  He moved, lifted up to meet me and we kissed, really kissed for the first time.

His mouth was hot and I could taste the salt of his tears and the slight lingering of fear.  I opened for him and he slipped his tongue deep into my mouth and threaded his hand in my hair, now loose from its ponytail.

The heat was instant and sharp.  This was where I belonged all along.  In his arms and fighting by his side.  This was my moment, my perfect moment that I wanted to stay in forever.

Not wasting any time, Dean pulled my tank top over my head and I sat back on my heels to return the favor.  Skin on skin he rolled me over onto my back as he kissed his way down my neck to take one of my nipples into his mouth.

I cried out and arched my back.  The feel of his hands and mouth on me was like nothing I had ever felt.  He was the one, I was sure, we were both born for this moment.

"Please!" I begged, knowing that I couldn't wait any longer and I knew that it was way too soon.  We shouldn't be doing this, not yet.  It was a moment of weakness, it was the need to feel alive, to confirm that we were once again whole, but I didn't want him to stop.  I never wanted him to stop.

I felt his hand slide down my stomach and tease, just inside the edge of my panties and then I heard the voice in my head.



Not yet.

Stop him, Claire.

No. No. No.

Don't make me come down there, Claire.


"Stop!" I choked out as tears once again welled up in my eyes.  "Dean, stop, please."

I wanted to sob, I didn't want to stop.  I shook my head at his confused look and felt the tears slip from my eyes.  "I'm sorry."  Weak words, ones that could never make up for what I was asking of him, just like his sorry from earlier.

With all of the grief and pain we've been through, sorry just didn't cut it anymore.  

He pulled back from me that with a sneer, "Sure you are.  Whatever, Claire."  If I thought his voice had deepened with grief, it was nothing like the subterranean of his cold rage.


"Forget it."

I knew this wasn't his normal reaction to getting turned down.  Sex was great, sure, but this was about something else.  This was about being turned down when he needed some sort of emotional, physical connection more than he needed to breathe.

As he tried to get up from bed, I grabbed him, pulling him back to me before I kissed him hard.  He fought me for only a moment before his hands once again gripped me tight.  I threw caution to the wind, I'd rather deal with the wrath of heaven than turn Dean away when he needed me the most.  I pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips.  He was so hard and when I ground down against him, I forgot how to breathe.

I shifted and pulled his boxer briefs down.  I looked at his hard cock, barely visible in the dim light.  He was only slightly larger than average, but he was thick.  I didn't have much experience before I died, but I had to admit, it was as pretty as they get.

Dean reached out and caught my chin in his palm, "Are you sure?"

"Yes.  I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

I watched as something shifted in his eyes, in his body and I found myself, once again, on my back, but this time, Dean didn't waste anytime getting my panties off.  After he yanked them  down, he began to work his way back up.  Stopping at my core, he gave me a few licks that had me gasping and him chuckling.

He nestled himself in my thighs and I took a shuddery breath, "Dean?"

"Hmmm," he hummed in reply as he nibbled on my neck.

"I've never done this," his brow arched and I smiled, "Well, since I got back."

"Me either." He admitted and kissed me again slow.  "I'll try not to hurt you."

"I trust you, Dean."  The look he gave me, burned me.  The trust I put in him touched him deeply, deeper than he could ever imagine, but I saw it in his eyes.  He shifted and placed the head of his penis at my entrance and I took a deep breath and waited.

Our eyes locked as our breath caught.  There was a huge bang as then the door flew open and Castiel stood there, along with a really pissed off Uriel, scowling at us.

Both Dean and I cursed and tried to cover our bodies as best as we could, not that it mattered to the two angels.

"I told you to stop him, Claire." Castiel said in his cool, even tone.

Dean looked at me and grinned, "Disobeying Daddy?"

I flashed Dean a quick smile, then looked over at Castiel, "You told me to help him, whatever it takes."

"Not this." Castiel said with a casual grace that was shockingly beautiful.

"Sex is a normal, human thing, Castiel. It's a beautiful thing."

"Not when the two parties are committing a sin against God." Uriel sneered and stepped into the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

"You're just jealous you can't..." Dean started and I cut him off with a hand on his arm.

"What are you talking about.  What's the big deal, really?"

"What's the big deal?" Uriel said it amazement, "Premarital sex is a sin against our Father."

"Everyone does it." Dean muttered and laid down and crossed his arms behind his head.  All I could think was, how old are you?

"Sinners more concerned about carnal knowledge than honoring Him." Uriel ground out and Castiel held out a hand.  Uriel scowled but shut up and went to brood in the corner.

Dean sat up and yanked on his jeans.  "In case you haven't noticed, I'm having a hard time buying into this shit.  I still don't know if I believe in God and if there really is one, where the hell was he for the last 29 years?  Where was he when my mother burned to death?  Where was he when I was dragged to hell?"

Castiel stood and walked toward Dean and I felt my breath catch, "I showed you what your Mother had done.  She made a deal with Azazel for your father's life and she broke the deal and died for it.  You made a deal with a crossroads demon for Sam's life and you had to face the consequences of your actions.  There was nothing my Father could do to stop it.  Human's have free will, and that's what keeps getting you in trouble and keeps getting everyone you love killed."

"You sonofabitch!" Dean growled and jumped up from the bed, naked as the days I was born, twice, and stepped in front of him.

"Dean, stop!"  He didn't look at me, just kept his eyes on Castiel who looked completely unrattled by Dean's rage.  

"I speak the truth, Dean.  We all know it and that's what makes you so angry."

Uriel came over and curled his lip, "All you Winchester's are alike. Rash and emotional.  You speak and act before you think and that has always been your downfall, Dean.  You, Sammy's and your Daddy's.  Even Mommy dearest."

This time Dean launched himself at Uriel but Castiel grabbed him by the arm and held him back easily, "Careful.  My patience is wearing thin.  Uriel," Castiel looked over at the other angel and shook his head, "Wait outside."

Uriel's smug face fell slowly and he stood up just a bit straighter as he turned and left the room.  It was clear who was in charge, Castiel, and Dean better see that soon and get himself under control.  He was a power keg ready to go off any moment and I realized that was part of my propose, to help him deal with his emotions and remind him to think before he acts.

That had always been a problem with him, but it was even more so now.  Dean had always let his emotions rule him.  He loved so deeply, felt so much he couldn't stop himself.  Sam had always been the voice of reason, holding Dean back, making him think before he acted, but Sam was slipping away and it was up to me to take up the role.

Dean continued to try and stare down Castiel and I really didn't know what to do to help. "Dean?" I said again, softly and his eyes flicked to me and then took in my nakedness.  He cursed and reached behind him and yanked off the quilt from the bed and wrapped it around my shoulders and pushed the hair from my face.

He touch was gentle and caring even if he didn't realized it.  My heard did a little flip and I turned and looked up at Castiel.

He had seen it, Dean's protectiveness, his actions spoke mountains about the man.  Castiel looked at me and gave me a small knowing smile.  "You know what you have to do, Claire."

"No I don't, Castiel.  Tell me.  What do we do now?"

With a long look at both of us, Castiel began to make his way to the door.  With a glance over his shoulder, he dropped his bomb, "Marry before you copulate."

With a flash and the sound of wings, he was gone and Dean and I were left standing there with out mouths open.

Thanks to Sil for siggie!

Offline princess_silence

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #26 on: Fri, Jan 09, 2009, 04:42 PM »
:wed  :river  :river

Offline evilgrin

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #27 on: Sat, Jan 10, 2009, 11:13 AM »
:kiss Dr Suess! nice, FG!

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Offline jenhaley123

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #28 on: Mon, Jan 19, 2009, 11:43 PM »
omg, fg this is incredible.  i absolutely could see this being a real episode of sn!  better be careful that tptb over at the cw don't read this and steal it! lol  and the actress you have pictured in your banner is perfect for this.  i've seen her work and can easily picture her in this role.  brilliant!  can't wait for an update!!   :rule  :rule

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Offline Furyan Goddess

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Re: [Supernatural]The Holy Cursed[NC-17][ONG]
« Reply #29 on: Tue, Jan 20, 2009, 04:21 AM »
Wow, thanks Jen.. I really like this and I just love Supernatural.  I hope to get more done on this one real soon. :D

Thanks to Sil for siggie!