Post by Jessica | Rémiel on Feb 18, 2018 22:59:24 GMT -5
J e s s i c a | S e a r s
D e a n | M a t t h e w s
The Paladin and the Fanged One, Level Up!
File 001: Reunion | 再会
Nine and a half hours on a nonstop flight from Rome, Italy to New York City.
The soreness of Jessica’s body was still present. The hyperextension of her right knee was agonizing. She was the winner of the match, but the aftermath was unpleasant. Still, she soldiered on. She took the advice of the nurse to rest for the night in her hotel room, but before the rising of the sun, she was on the early flight home.
When you were in a hurry, nine and a half hours in the air was torture. Once she landed, she already summoned an Uber to take her home, providing the security guard on-duty with her driver’s license as proof of residence. Her soft blue eyes gazed upon the Manhattan estate of Marisol “Mariah” Francesca Cruz, then they settled on the first level where her deluxe apartment home resided. Once the driver stopped before the entrance, she made her leave and wheeled along her luggage. She didn’t have the strength to carry it for the first time in a long time. She walked in through the double doors of the lobby where the receptionist greeted her and she simply nodded. She approached the front door of her home, unlocking it with the key and stepping inside.
Daryl the faithful dog walked up to her, his tail wagging incredibly fast in absolute joy. Leaning down without placing too much weight on her right knee, she pet him before she left her luggage by the door. She could unpack later. She made her way down the hall and quietly opened the door to the guest bedroom, her eyes briefly falling upon one small luggage by the door, and she looked up to the inhabitant on the bed…
Who knows what dreams a monster dreams and in the deep dead hours of the twilight he was no different. The fog filled with shapeless forms, each more dangerous and monstrous than the last and all of them intent on him. Through these nightmare figures it moves. Slithering between each of their legs constantly circling its prey in the vaults of his mind. The Reptile. His Id. His burden.
The real world saw as drastically different from that hellish nightmare that was his mind as it was from the real world. In the world Dean was lying on his back on the bed. His hair hung down across his bare shoulders and chest, half dirty blonde and half midnight black and it looked….in a word? Horrible. His chin, jaw and cheeks were covered by the wild growth of a beard that was in desperate need of a trim. His stomach, abdomen and lower chest were covered by a thick brown wrap that was wrapped so tightly it appeared to be hard to breath, but with six severely broken ribs it needed to be. He would see his right hand lying closest to her, the angry red scars and stitches of a recent surgery. Whatever they had done to him, it had been horrible.
He still wore a pair of faded blue jeans and clean black socks, though his black combat boots were lying beside the left side of the bed where he mostly laid leaving the right more or less empty.
He had showered and put on clean clothes before he sat or laid upon anything in her home. Even with the Reptile hissing and snarling in his mind he still had the manners his mother had taught him. His face as he slept was a mask of pain, a grimace and his eyes fluttering showing he was dreaming.
And whatever the dream? It was agony to him.
The shear pain that contorted his entire body on the surface… Jessica walked over to the right side of the bed and examined him carefully. Physically, he looked terrible. Simply terrible. She could only begin to wonder what he was experiencing mentally and emotionally. Despite her physically exhausted condition, she took a seat on the side of the bed and very carefully rested her right hand over his. She kept the physical contact and gently spoke to him, hoping he could hear her soothing voice.
“Dean…? I’m home now. I’ll protect you. Everything is going to be alright.”
Her left hand moved up to very delicately settle on his forehead. He was warm, warmer than the normal body temperature, and her eyes lulled halfway. She needed to help him, rising from the edge of the bed, but the pain of the hyperextension shot from her right knee and she grimaced. She bit down on her lower lip to keep herself quiet, not wanting to disturb his sleep or scare him, and she slowly made her way towards the bathroom in the hallway. She grabbed one of the soft white hand towels and began to run it under cold water in the sink. Turning the water off, she used her hands to wring the towel until it was no longer dripping with water, but was still cold and damp. Carefully this time, she walked back into the guest room and made her way back to him. She folded the towel in half and very carefully rested it over his forehead. Her right hand moved back down to settle over his. She didn’t want to leave his side until she was certain he was feeling a little better.
“I’m here… Please give me a sign…”
The cool fabric of the small hand towel didn’t wake him but he sighed, nearly happily in his sleep. The skin of his hand beneath her hand was rough and rigid, like the rolling hills of a plains and she would realize then, the Children of Nephilim had broken it so badly he now had pins in the bones. When she asked him for a sign he didn’t move for a moment, then as if somehow in the endless fog of his mind he heard her words echo his fingers parted on their own and her fingers slid between his.
A sign.
“!”
A soft gasp, feeling her fingers in between his, and a weak yet warm smile crossed her face. She applied a little more pressure, still gentle as she braced her hand over his. Carefully she lifted his hand enough so she could hold it in hers. She leaned in and softly kissed his right cheek, speaking softly as she’s closer to his ear.
“I’m right here… and I’m not going anywhere for awhile, okay? You’re safe now.”
Standing in the dense fog covered abyss all he could hear was the snarling hiss of the creature that circled him and yet somehow he heard the whispers words echoing through his mind. Heard Jessica’s gentle voice and the creature snarled drawing back into the darkness. His physical body relaxed beneath her, all except his hand which tightened for a fraction of a second and his thumb which caressed the side of her hand, though when she looked down it hadn’t moved. Her imagination perhaps?
But what wasn’t her imagination? The single tear drop that slid from his eye to his ear hidden nearly from view with his turned head tilted down.
Being this close, she could see the single tear slide down from the corner of his eye and down to his ear. A slight frown crossed her face, gently squeezing his hand, and she reached out with her left hand to collect the remnants of his tear. Her left hand then settled on his cheek and she breathed slowly.
“You don’t have to suffer anymore… okay? I’m… going to take a bath. I wouldn’t want to waste the hot water you drew for me.”
And the drink. She needed that after such a long flight. Leaning up, she kissed the tip of his nose before slowly, hesitantly pulling her hands away from him. She rose to her feet, carefully this time, and she made her way out of the bedroom, but she left the door open. Just in case he yelled or screamed, or… hopefully just came out of his own free will without any pain.
She made her to the kitchen first, remembering him say he left a thankful gift for her. It was exactly where he said it was, on the kitchen counter, a shiny crystal shield that was small enough to rest on the palm of her hand. Her soft blue eyes shimmered as she carefully opened it to read what was inside. Jessica Sears, Paladin of Vengeance. It was beautifully custom made. She smiled before she found a safe place in her master bedroom to adorn it where it would not be disturbed, but visibly seen.
Ridding herself of her clothing worn for over twelve hours, she stepped into the bathroom and turned on the light. The blueberry mimosa rested next to the drawn bath with hot water. In her nudity, she opened a small drawer to retrieve a Japanese cherry blossom bath bomb and settle it into the hot bath. She allowed a moment for the bath bomb to go off, and once it was completely filled with the delightful pink color-- like a cherry blossom, she settled inside and allowed herself to finally relax.
She was home.
He was here.
They were safe within this sanctuary.
When she was gone and he was alone again he rolled to his side in his sleep and with an agonized groan through his nose his eyes snapped open in pain. Sweat beaded on his forehead beneath the rag, which slid off to the bed and his eyes lowered to it. That had not been there before.
Slowly his head turned and looked at the door as his shaking hands reached down below the bed and into his right boot pulling out a small round bottle. From the bottle, he withdrew a couple of the pain meds and took them dry. A skill he had learned living on the street for the last month. You never knew when you’d have something to drink to take them with, so you had to learn to improvise.
Figuring she had checked on him and then gone to bed he laid his head back on the pillow and soon he was asleep again, this time relatively pain-free but his dreams were not of the dense fog covered abyss.
No, this time they were...pleasant.
In truth, this time they were about her.
It was a wonderful half an hour within the cherry blossom hot bath. The blueberry mimosa he made for her was delicious. She didn’t hear anything from here, believing he was able to peacefully sleep after her comfort and reassurance. She was so glad… after the vicious attack on her friend and fellow gamer, Cali-Kate, she was worried for Dean, especially after he informed her that the Children found the place he was living. Knowing he was able to fend off Michael Rivers’s trap before her pilot and nurse picked him up, she was slightly relieved, but it still didn’t stop the worry.
For the first time in over twenty-four hours, she was able to just relax. She’d see Kate as soon as she recovered from the jet lag. Rome to New York City was a big timezone leap. Once she was satisfied, she pressed a button to drain the water and she climbed out of the bathtub carefully. She retrieved the first towel to pat her wet hair before she wrapped it around her hair and set it on her head. She then used the second towel to dry herself off, being very careful with the movements or the weight on her right knee.
‘Stupid bitch is going to pay…’
Once she was nice and dry, she stepped back into her master bedroom and looked at her bed, nicely made before she left for Rome. She moved to hang the towels to dry and walked over to her five-drawer dresser, opening the second one to retrieve clean clothes for sleeping. A pair of white boy shorts and Captain America pajamas. She slid the boyshorts on first, then she pulled up the pajama pants, followed by the loose-fitting top. She stepped back into the bathroom for a moment, grabbed her purple detangling brush, and began to brush her long blonde hair from the roots to the tips. It took a minute with the assistance of her blow dryer and then she was content. She didn’t wear any makeup on the flight, deciding to be all natural.
Rather than climbing into her own bed, she made her way back to the guest room where he was sleeping. She walked over to check on him and she looked closely at his facial features. He was more at peace now, still some pain -- perhaps from the broken ribs, but he looked better. She’d make a house call to the nurse who assisted him on the private jet in the morning… or evening… Lord, she didn’t even know what time it was. Her exhaustion was overwhelming her wisdom and constitution saving throws, so to speak, and she moved to settle on the queen size bed next to him. It was laying down that made her body realize how important sleep was.
It was imminent. Her eyes lulled shut and she allowed Kirby’s Dream Land to capture her.
[Now Loading. . .]
Time then did what time does, it moved. Seconds into minutes, minutes into hours until slowly his eyes slid open and he could see the soft gentle yellow light beneath the door on the far side of the room. The scent of cherry blossoms, gentle and soft, filled his nostrils and he breathed in deep, or as deeply as his ribs would allow.
Slowly his cold blue eyes shifted down and a wealth of blonde hair gently covered a face lying on his shoulder. Her arm across his side, hand on his chest. His mind immediately went to another time and another place and fear seized him. How could she possibly be here? Was Michael with her? Had they hurt Jessica?
A shaking hand lifted and brushed back the hair gently from a beautiful face and his breath caught in his throat. It was Jessica!
“...Oh...you have got to be kidding me...”
He whispered under his breath, the faintest hint of self-mocking in his tone. Then, of course, he saw the PJ’s, then his own blue jeans and socks. He blew out a deep steadying breath out through his nose in relief.
“Oh, thank you, god….”
Carefully he extracted his arm from beneath her, mindful of her head to lay it gently upon the pillow before he sat up pressing his arm to his side. A muffled groan left him as he grabbed his boots and slipped them one after another...after, of course, settling the half-empty bottle of pain meds on the bed beside him.
Rising from the bed he crept around it on feet much to silent for a man of 6’6 and nearly three hundred pounds. He paused only once besides her where he leaned down, hissing in agony, and pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Shhh...sleep sweetly, Jessi. You truly are a vision while you sleep….”
A quick grab into his bag pulled out three objects. A laptop, an iPod with earbuds and a black tank top. After slipping the tank top on he made his way to the kitchen, pushed the earbuds into his ears, and began to play music loudly into the buds and pushed the laptop open.
And it was here he would stay until she awakened, alone in the guest bed.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t ideal for her to be alone… Sleeping an hour without the embrace, Jessica’s physical form began to shiver as she groaned softly in her sleep. Was she dreaming?
“You can have the tag-team championship belt…”
Matthew Shields’ voice resonated in the darkness and she was running away from him. The tattered black long dress was flowing as she ran, but she wasn’t going anywhere. Except for a white spotlight shining on her, it was too dark to see anything.
“...if you give yourself to me, Jessica.”
The bone-chilling whispers resonated around her as she continued to run barefoot. She was getting tired, her feet beginning to hurt as she covered her ears.
“You will be mine, even if I have to take you by force.”
Suddenly, the ground began to quake underneath her and it gave way to a large, pitch black hole. She screamed in the fall, the sound of Matthew’s creepy laughter consuming her.
Jessica’s body jerked violently with enough force to fall out of bed. Unfortunately for her, she landed on her right knee and instantly she let out a scream. This jolted her mind to wake up as the pain took over and she grasped her right knee in her hands. It was just like before. The last night in Rome was sleepless because of that nightmare. She softly cursed under her breath and hissed in pain. She forgot to make the house call to the nurse. Sucking in a breath of air, she looked up at the digital clock sitting on the nightstand and sighed.
11:11 am.
“Good enough…”
She muttered to herself and softly hissed. She had to look twice to realize that Dean wasn’t on the bed. Using the bed as leverage, she rose to her feet and slightly hobbled her way out of the guest bedroom.
In his focused and more than a little-addled state, he didn’t even hear the commotion taking place outside the walls of the kitchen where he sat. His hideous hair pulled back over each ear to keep it from his face and his eyes focused down on the table before him. The stolen phone from the Children sat beside the old beat up Laptop he had found discarded and repaired.
A hobby from a disreputable youth.
The earbuds in his ears blared loudly some fast-paced fusion of rocks heavy guitars and drums and rap quick rapid-fire lyrics. His ice blue eyes stared down at the pieces of equipment shifting between one and the other reading the words on the screens. Reports on his friends still in the fight on one and Maiko’s orders, DM’s, text’s and twitter feed on the other. A cloned phone after all, so it shared the connection with the other which Asmodeus carried.
Fingertips of one hand drummed off the table gently as he read while the other pressed to his side cradling his aching ribs. Truth be told he tried to ignore where he was. To ignore the memories. To ignore all the things he had hoped once upon a time. It was easier this way.
“Dean…?”
She used the wall for support and stood at the end of the hallway, taking a deep breath. She shook her right leg carefully, hissing a little, but she made her way over to the dining area where he was seated. Reaching out, she gently settled her left hand on his right shoulder.
Being so engrossed in the music blasting in the earbuds and the things appearing on the pair of screens he was viewing he didn’t even notice the shadow looming over him. Not until her hand rested on his shoulder and he jumped...and immediately regretted that decision. He leaned back in the chair holding his left palm over his right side and arched his back in pain.
“Oh….son of a……”
It was about then he realized his head was resting against the side of another head as he leaned back. Ice blue eyes shifted, swimming in agony to the beautiful face beside him. A face he could never forget, not in a hundred years.
“J...essi. Hey…”
“Dean! Shit, I didn’t mean to startle you…”
Her concern was sincere, raising her right hand to settle over his left. She could tell there was pain shooting throughout his entire body from his broken ribs and a frown crossed her face.
“I’ll call the nurse to come over. Tell me what you need. Please.”
She didn’t want to move to get her phone until she was absolutely certain he would be alright.
In response, he did the strangest thing. His fingertips beneath her hand just idly caressed her palm once before he pushed himself from the chair with an audible groan of agony.
“I need… the Paladin of Vengeance to be okay and safe is what I need Jessi.”
From the front left pocket of his jeans, he withdrew the small round bottle and uncorked it with his thumb shaking a couple of them into his mouth and swallowing the pills dry. He then set the bottle down and fished one out holding it out in front of her mouth.
“I know it’s not exactly… legal to share these but I know about your knee Jessi. So open up and don’t argue with me. Then sit down… we can call the nurse in a bit. It’s been months since we have seen each other… I’d like to catch up a bit.”
She looked at the bottle of pain medication before she stared at the pill in between his finger and thumb. A slight frown crossed her face and she shook her head.
“Thanks, but I’m fine… It’s just a hyperextension. Nothing rest and recover won’t heal.”
“Jess, I can see the pain on your face. I can see it in your eyes. I trained with you, remember? Don't you think I know the look? You had it on more than one occasion when I hit something unexpected. So...for me? This way can focus on getting reacquainted?”
He wouldn’t force anything on her, ever, not even as a threat but he had to try at least one more time. She was in pain and that truly hurt him. It hurt him deeper than he thought it would.
And somehow...he couldn’t figure out why.
She looked at the pill once more, her eyes staring intently at it. She could feel the pain wavering over her body from her right knee and she sighed. She took the pill in her right hand and made her way into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out two tall bottles of Essentia 9.5 pH balanced purified water. She walked back over to the table, placed one of the bottles in front of him, and then she pulled up a seat directly in front of him.
“First of all… you’re never taking those dry again.”
She cracked open her water bottle, popped the pill into her mouth, and drank some water to swallow it with a sigh. Keeping off of her right knee would help to sustain the recovery process. She reached over and grabbed the bottle of pain medication and read the description.
“Second of all… Percocet… that’s an acetaminophen and an oxycodone combined into one. This one is the 7.5mg/325 mg strength. It’s one tablet every six hours as needed for pain with a maximal daily dosage of eight tablets.”
She didn’t set it back on the table. Instead, she brought it closer to herself and looked into his eyes.
“Dean… tell me the truth. How many do you take a day? How long have you been taking Percocet for?”
When she finally did as he asked he smiled. Even at the mention of him not taking them dry anymore, but how did you explain that to someone? You never know when you are on the road when you will find water and if the suffering is bad enough you do what you have to do.
When she set the water bottle down he did, however, unscrew the lid and drink. The one damn side effect he wasn’t fond of was the dry mouth. After the drink, he set the bottle back down and listened as she listed off his medication with medical proficiency. Someone in her family had been a doctor. Someone close.
When she looked into his eyes he sighed and pulled out his own chair to sit in front of her.
“Ten? Maybe eleven a day? Sleeping on the concrete and bus benches while i was running from the Children didn’t do me any favors in the pain department.
Jessica heard the number ten and not in a pleasant way like the Tenth Doctor from the Doctor Who series. Ten was the number of tablets Dean was taking in a single day, possibly eleven.
“Dean!!”
Instinctively, she raised her right hand, but a thought ran through her mind. With the way her hand was positioned, it looked like she was going to slap him. However, she stopped herself and contemplated the oath her father followed perfectly: the Hippocratic Oath. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then she lowered her hand on the table. Her left hand kept the bottle tightly in her grasp.
“...you… slept on concrete and bus benches…? That’s horrible!”
A few strands of her blonde hair fell in front of her face as she looked away. She pressed her lips together and simply breathed through her nose. Seeing this, he couldn’t help himself from reaching out and brushing his left hand across her cheek, tucking the hair behind her ear and out of her face. She blinked, a bit surprised by the simple gesture, and she looked at him with concern yet curiosity in her soft blue eyes.
“...Regardless of the pain, you can’t be taking more than eight tablets a day. You could easily become addicted to the medication, overdose, or worse…”
She didn’t even want to think about the last alternative. She glanced down at the prescription bottle and looked at it carefully. There was the name of a doctor, the doctor’s information, the location for refills, and the number of refills remaining. However, the patient’s name was not his. It was a female’s with the same surname, Matthews, along with the Percocet information.
“Dean… you stole these, didn’t you? Don’t lie to me.”
“. . .”
When she asked him point blank about the bottle he sighed and leaned back in the chair. His left hand that had so recently brushed the hair from her face lifted to his own and ran down it as he blew out a deep sigh. Taking two of them he didn’t feel his ribs at the moment so he could move and breathe accordingly.
“After Proving Grounds i was taken to a local hospital. I woke up with no idea where i was, who i was, and this snarling, hissing voice in my head. It told me to run and when I did i saw the black-robed Demons coming to finish the job.
Well, they gave me a list of tasks. On that list was to return home so i went. I had nothing for the pain and the rides were more horrible than anything i could ever imagine. I sent them away on Christmas morning with a free cruise and tickets to a plane they could never make.
I knew that my mom underwent surgery last year. A major spinal repair. They were shoving prescriptions into her hand, even when she told them she didn’t need them, so after i wrote my goodbye note as i was commanded, i took both bottles and left.”
She listened to his story, the aftermath of Proving Grounds and how he’s been on the run ever since, and she could feel a wave of tension and guilt come over her body. She could tell it was just the surface of what’s been through. The idea of sleeping on concrete floors and bus benches, always moving, always running from the Children of Nephilim, she couldn’t even begin to fathom it. Pressing her lips together, she opened her left hand and set the prescription bottle on the table. Even though it wasn’t a good idea to move, she rose up from the chair and made her way around the table to him.
He looked so… different. The new battle scars, the weariness in his body language, the physical altercations, he was like a nomadic wanderer, no place to call a home, nowhere to lay his head without his paranoia setting him off. The emotional turmoil that betrayal caused and the physical assault that intensified his pain and suffering. She moved in closer and wrapped her arms around him, embracing him gently. She rested her head on his shoulder and draped one of her arms around his neck. She raised her right hand and ran her fingers through his hair ever-so-softly.
“...You’re safe now… You don’t have to run away in fear anymore. This is your sanctuary.”
When she set the bottle down the only thing that ran through his mind was she was about to make good on that intention she had a few moments earlier. She was about to smack him and yet she didn’t. She eased herself from the chair and made her way to him. Upon reaching him her arms wrapped around him.
He could feel her soft skin on him and the way her fingers felt as they ran through his hair. She’d feel how unhealthy it was now. Half black and half dirty blonde nearly split down the middle. His own arms lifted and wrapped around her upper body, ending with his hands resting on the back of her head as she whispered to him. And he wanted her to understand. To know the depths of what she had done for him.
“You saved me, Jessica. When i needed someone, you came in out of nowhere and pulled me out of danger. You… saved me from Hell. They would have dragged me back and no one would have ever seen me again.”
The way he described their scenario resonated with her. She found it was very familiar to a popular fantasy horror television show she absolutely loved: CW’s Supernatural. She lifted her head from atop his shoulder, pulled back a little but still kept their gentle embrace, and she looked into his ice blue eyes. She tilted her head slowly to the left in a curious, familiar manner.
“I… saved you from Hell… kinda like Castiel did for Dean Winchester. He gripped him tight and raised him from Perdition.”
It may have been silly to some people, but in her nerdy lifestyle it made perfect sense. Her right hand moved and she settled the palm on his left shoulder in a similar way Castiel did for Dean on the show. Firm yet gentle, she gripped his shoulder and sucked in a breath of air.
“...so that’s why I developed a profound bond for you, even though you were ‘dead’... because I’m sorta like Castiel the Angel.”
“And i am more like the Hunter than i would care to admit. Perhaps that is where the flicker all those months ago came from. But, we can discuss that later. For now….you made me a promise.”
She begins to tilt her head the other way, definite confusion on her face, and she pursues the meaning of his words.
“I made you a promise? When?”
“When we were talking while i was in Oregon. For the love of god...can we fix my hair?!”
His reaction took her by surprise, but she did recall that promise. A tiny smile crossed her face as she raised her right hand to run through the dyed black side of his hair.
“Ja. I mean, yes. We’ll take care of this right now if you want. I already purchased the hair products necessary to remove hair dye and restore natural hair color.”
“Yes! Please god! I cannot do the left side myself. We can do it in the sink for the sake of propriety. You know how the hungry leapers will wag their tongues if you were near a shower with me, even if we were both dressed.”
He could return to the man he was before he had become convinced he needed to be his father. Once she was finished he could introduce her and everyone else to the real Dean Matthews and maybe….just maybe, he wouldn’t disappoint.
[Saving data. Do not remove the memory card. . . ♥]
