"Supernatural"/"Angel the Series" unfinished

[tigriswolf]

Dean/Lindsey all the way, yo.  I really want to finish this one, but... *sad sigh*  I don't know what to do!

            Sammy dies on a Friday. Turns out, there were two poltergeists instead of one, and they got the drop on Dad and Sammy.

            Dean wasn’t there. He was at the apartment of the month, sick with flu.

            Dad came back alone and with one look, Dean knew.

 

            After that, things change. Dad rarely speaks and Dean often fails to acknowledge him. He never forgives Dad, or himself. Whether that’s fair or not doesn’t matter.

 

            A year to the day, Dean walks out. Leaves Dad with his beer and his crusade. Leaves Dad with no goodbye, no second thought.

            Once, he hung on Dad’s every word. But those days died with Sammy.

 

            He travels the country for a bit, swiftly losing his morals. Leaves them on the barren road, to bake beneath the sun. No one in the world mattered but Sammy, and Sammy went and got himself dead.

            Dean will never, ever forgive him of that.

 

            And three years on, Dean picks up a hitchhiker. Short fellow, at least three inches shorter than Dean, long dark hair. Kind of like Sammy’s, truth be told. Blue eyes like the sky, carrying a duffle with a pack on his back. 

            “Where you headed?” Dean asks him.

            The hitcher smirks, slow and steady. “Anywhere you are, I reckon,” he answers, voice whiskey-silk.

 

            Neither of them talk much. Dean ran out of words when he never saw Sammy again, and Hitcher(real name Lindsey, it seems) is fine with silence. He doesn’t fiddle with the radio, which Dean’s thankful for, though he does wish Hitcher would complain about the music once in awhile.

            But instead, Hitcher hums along.

 

            They don’t even talk about it. Hitcher just stays with Dean for seven months, rides shotgun and tells bad jokes, doesn’t cut his hair, chips in for gas. Leaves one day at dusk, walking into the sunset.

            Dean gives him the cell number and Hitcher takes it with a slow smirk and nod, and winks over his shoulder as he goes.

 

            Hitcher calls a few times over the next couple of years. They don’t talk for more than a total of four hours in twenty-six months, but Dean feels closest to Hitcher out of anyone since Sammy.

            He calls Hitcher in early 2004 and doesn’t get an answer. He calls again a few days later; still nothing. Last time they’d spoken, Hitcher said something about going back to Los Angeles and taking what was his.

            So Dean points his Impala towards the sinking sun.

 

            Dean follows tips to a large blight against the horizon, a building for lawyers called Wolfram and Hart. He slips on in and slinks around, seeking out information. It isn’t long before he’s cornered a sweet little secretary named Harmony and conned from her everything he wants to know. She’s a sweet little thing, if on the dumb side, and harmless—so he lets her get back to work instead of leaving her as dust.

            He ghosts back out of the building, wondering how to rescue Hitcher from Hell.

 

            Anything can be bought if you have enough money, or are frightening enough—and Dean’s learned how to be terrifying. He tracks down a hoodoo man and convinces him to help. Ramon tells him of an old spell, long before humanity’s time, that his mama learned from her grandmama, and so on, all the way back to the Garden of Eden.

            Dean doesn’t believe him, but Ramon assures him that disbelief won’t halt the power.

            He practices the words over and over, committing them to memory deep in his blood. He hunts down everything Ramon needs and waits. 

            Ramon calls up his sister Vera and niece Monica, telling Dean that the power required is more than he has available. Dean settles back after the rest of the hoodoo family arrive, watching in fascination as they call upon heathen gods and moonlight, summoning forces no mortal should touch.

            Vera tells him, as she hands him the charm, to be careful and watchful, because some things despise being meddled with.

            Dean smirks at her and pockets the charm, thanking her for her concern.

 

            He has to wait for the right bundle of elements, but after another four days in the City of Angels, they arrive. He sneaks back into Wolfram and Hart, arrowing straight for the CEO’s office. No one notices him as he passes, a skill he’s long since honed, and he attains the office without a single problem.

            And there he waits, ever ready, anger mounting with each passing moment.

 

---

 

            Angel stalks into his office, pissed at the world for taking Cordelia and Fred and Buffy, and most everyone else he’s ever loved. 

            He just wants to close his eyes and erase the last two hundred and forty years, but that’s impossible.

            And there’s a human at the window, looking out over the city. He’s young, in a leather coat and faded jeans, a shirt Angel sees is green as he turns, a smirk curving his lips.

            He’s the most beautiful human Angel has ever seen, and Angel has known beauty.

 

 

 

 

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[tigriswolf]

Thank you!