Fic: and if i only could (SPN/GA)
Title: and if i only could.
Fandom: Supernatural/Grey's Anatomy.
Pairing/Character: Izzie, Dean, Sam.
Spoilers/Warnings: S: 2x22. G: 2x27 onwards. character death.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ;/
Word Count: 1269.
Rating: PG.
Prompt: Placebo: Running Up That Hill.
Written For: pretty_stickers.
Summary: Dean's time is up.
Notes: I took a little liberty with Dean's deal, and 3x05 of Grey's Anatomy never happened. I don't own Britney's 'masterpiece' - nor have I seen it. I wanted to see it at one point - but not anymore. I haven't written in a while, so I'm not really positive if this is that great - but it's a start, right? :) Feedback is love. ;)
it doesn't hurt me.
Things feel small. Things feel claustrophobic - she feels like the walls are closing in on her, and it's the second time in countless days that she's felt this. The only difference is that she's sitting upright, squashed like something underneath a shoe between Meredith and George in front of the television, and she's not on the bathroom floor in her prom dress. She's not poor Izzie on the bathroom floor anymore.
George thinks watching a bad Britney Spears flick will make her better. The only thing that will make Izzie Stevens feel is waking up. If she woke up, she probably wouldn't be feeling this prickly sensation on the tips of her fingers like something else is wrong. It's like having a feeling that patient 34986 isn't dead, but is trying to dig his way out of his coffin.
She shudders - Meredith asks what the movie is called, "'Before we make a bald statement', George?" It's not funny, but George laughs and almost coughs up things through his nose as he tells Grey it's Crossroads.
Izzie feels nothing when Lucy finds love - or her pants around her ankles. She feels pins and needles everywhere - where her skin makes contact with Meredith's shirt, where her clothes fall onto her skin, where the air crashes into her lungs like the waves kissing a shore.
It's when Izzie's making muffins she wishes she made a deal.
She's going to clean out her locker tomorrow. She's going to walk into that hospital with her head high and her feet loud; even though the whispers will sting and the looks will burn, she won't flinch or turn back.
It's when Sammy calls that Izzie sees the walls running for the hills - over the hills and far away, like a perfect fairytale with the prince with a beating heart and a cool scar. His big brother is in trouble - the words collide together like wallpaper on Meredith's walls, and the only thing she hears from Sam's word is Britney Spears' flick.
Crossroads.
and if i only could, make a deal with god, and get him to swap our places.
Cleaning out her locker will have to be done another time. Izzie's bags are packed, though they're light and weightless - a feeling she felt the day she lost her fiancee. She avoided packing anything light blue and pink, and managed to find clothes of large sizes and dark colours - shapeless forms that can be lost in the shadows.
Sam drives the impala to Meredith's, and the black vehicle hasn't changed. A few demon signs here and there - a few more weapons, a new shiny paint, Dean's mullet rock cassettes now have labels that aren't fading away or peeling themselves off - but nothing's really changed. "You're driving?"
"Yeah." Sam grins, starting the car and their journey away from a life of baking muffins, cutting people open and crossing lines to stealing hearts. "Well," he starts, an innocent smile tugging at his lips as he shrugs his shoulders, "Dean doesn't know I'm here. I dunno how, since he loves this car so much, but he's become a little ..."
"Contents in the sweater distracted?"
Sam lets out a clump of air, a swirl of wind rushing through the trees, and smiles, "Yeah."
It's a long drive. She pokes Sam for details, and all she can feel - besides the pins and pricks of tiny sticks - is hot jealousy swirling through her. Sam's not supposed to be here. Dean's not supposed to be here. "So Dean made a deal? He made a deal with some demon to bring you back from the dead?"
Sam clears his throat, "That's the story I've been told."
She looks out the window and loses track of time. She murmurs as quietly as the fog sneaking up on the windows of the Impala as night battles day, "I wish I made a deal."
you don't want to hurt me, but see how deep the bullet lies.
Apparently, when you make a deal to bring someone back and let yourself take their place, you don't go out in style. Izzie never predicted Dean to want to spend his last days in the danky little house that really isn't a house or should be somewhere where anyone should be allowed to live that's located on some corner in some foreign state. It's gross and moudly and really drafty - and it's way too close to the crossroads where Sam made the mistake of telling her how to summon the demon.
Dean's not surprised to see her. Sam looks sheepish as he sits down on a lumpy chair. "When you act girly, something's up," Dean grins, and Izzie drops her bag on the wooden floor. She expected it to fall through to hell or China by how creaky and easy it seems to break the floorboards.
No one brings up Britney Spears' flick or LVAD wires - the Winchesters act like they're on some vacation that's going to get ruined by a demon, and she acts like she's having the night off and is on a date where she expects to be treated like dirt and not be kissed on her porch in front of the glass door.
He's only got two days left - and he's not acting like a man who needs a woman's company in order to live. Sex doesn't seem to be oxygen for Dean anymore - which is odd, but Izzie doesn't say anything as she's been caught looking around the cockroach-infested 'kitchen' for baking goods that won't ever be found.
They're not the same people anymore, and they won't be in the next two days.
tell me, we both matter, don't we?
Sam's still determined and booksmart. He excuses himself for looking for a way to get Dean out of this mess. To get out of death isn't something you can easily dodge, like a bullet. Izzie should know, as it was predicted by someone she hurt that the man she loved would be a corpse even before the wedding preparations could be argued about.
It's the night before Dean's meant to cease breathing that he talks to Izzie about the crash. He's not a talker and he doesn't talk about things that hurt - but he brings up dad and the yellow-eyed freak and how the gates of hell were opened and they still haven't killed all the sons of bitches that probably made hell a more horrific experience for John Winchester. Izzie speaks about Denny - and Alex - but mostly Denny, and her plan and how she quit. "They made me watch Britney Spears, Dean."
He smirks, his shoulders shaking with mirth as he pulls her closer with his hand on her shoulder, "That'd drive anyone insane, iz."
She doesn't tell him that it's the movie that made her mind click the links together. crossroads. demon. deal.
That night, Izzie Stevens doesn't let Dean Winchester lie on the bathroom floor alone.
if only i could, be running up that hill.
Night falls, and Dean's not there. "I've found a way," Sam barges in through the rickety door that, with his strength, should've collided into her. He smacks a book onto the dusty counter beside her in the kitchen. Cooking for two grown men wears her out - but it's better than baking and suffocating herself with the warm smell of bread-like goods. "Where's Dean?"
She doesn't know where he's gone. He's hidden in the shadows, not wishing to be found.
They search for him behind doors, in cupboards, outside behind the trees. Dean's gone and Sam's breathing is speeding up. In the dark, something comes to light in Sam's mind.
He runs.
She follows - barely seeing which way Sam's long legs turn.
And they find him.
crossroads. demon. deal.
It's too late.
Fandom: Supernatural/Grey's Anatomy.
Pairing/Character: Izzie, Dean, Sam.
Spoilers/Warnings: S: 2x22. G: 2x27 onwards. character death.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ;/
Word Count: 1269.
Rating: PG.
Prompt: Placebo: Running Up That Hill.
Written For: pretty_stickers.
Summary: Dean's time is up.
Notes: I took a little liberty with Dean's deal, and 3x05 of Grey's Anatomy never happened. I don't own Britney's 'masterpiece' - nor have I seen it. I wanted to see it at one point - but not anymore. I haven't written in a while, so I'm not really positive if this is that great - but it's a start, right? :) Feedback is love. ;)
it doesn't hurt me.
Things feel small. Things feel claustrophobic - she feels like the walls are closing in on her, and it's the second time in countless days that she's felt this. The only difference is that she's sitting upright, squashed like something underneath a shoe between Meredith and George in front of the television, and she's not on the bathroom floor in her prom dress. She's not poor Izzie on the bathroom floor anymore.
George thinks watching a bad Britney Spears flick will make her better. The only thing that will make Izzie Stevens feel is waking up. If she woke up, she probably wouldn't be feeling this prickly sensation on the tips of her fingers like something else is wrong. It's like having a feeling that patient 34986 isn't dead, but is trying to dig his way out of his coffin.
She shudders - Meredith asks what the movie is called, "'Before we make a bald statement', George?" It's not funny, but George laughs and almost coughs up things through his nose as he tells Grey it's Crossroads.
Izzie feels nothing when Lucy finds love - or her pants around her ankles. She feels pins and needles everywhere - where her skin makes contact with Meredith's shirt, where her clothes fall onto her skin, where the air crashes into her lungs like the waves kissing a shore.
It's when Izzie's making muffins she wishes she made a deal.
She's going to clean out her locker tomorrow. She's going to walk into that hospital with her head high and her feet loud; even though the whispers will sting and the looks will burn, she won't flinch or turn back.
It's when Sammy calls that Izzie sees the walls running for the hills - over the hills and far away, like a perfect fairytale with the prince with a beating heart and a cool scar. His big brother is in trouble - the words collide together like wallpaper on Meredith's walls, and the only thing she hears from Sam's word is Britney Spears' flick.
Crossroads.
and if i only could, make a deal with god, and get him to swap our places.
Cleaning out her locker will have to be done another time. Izzie's bags are packed, though they're light and weightless - a feeling she felt the day she lost her fiancee. She avoided packing anything light blue and pink, and managed to find clothes of large sizes and dark colours - shapeless forms that can be lost in the shadows.
Sam drives the impala to Meredith's, and the black vehicle hasn't changed. A few demon signs here and there - a few more weapons, a new shiny paint, Dean's mullet rock cassettes now have labels that aren't fading away or peeling themselves off - but nothing's really changed. "You're driving?"
"Yeah." Sam grins, starting the car and their journey away from a life of baking muffins, cutting people open and crossing lines to stealing hearts. "Well," he starts, an innocent smile tugging at his lips as he shrugs his shoulders, "Dean doesn't know I'm here. I dunno how, since he loves this car so much, but he's become a little ..."
"Contents in the sweater distracted?"
Sam lets out a clump of air, a swirl of wind rushing through the trees, and smiles, "Yeah."
It's a long drive. She pokes Sam for details, and all she can feel - besides the pins and pricks of tiny sticks - is hot jealousy swirling through her. Sam's not supposed to be here. Dean's not supposed to be here. "So Dean made a deal? He made a deal with some demon to bring you back from the dead?"
Sam clears his throat, "That's the story I've been told."
She looks out the window and loses track of time. She murmurs as quietly as the fog sneaking up on the windows of the Impala as night battles day, "I wish I made a deal."
you don't want to hurt me, but see how deep the bullet lies.
Apparently, when you make a deal to bring someone back and let yourself take their place, you don't go out in style. Izzie never predicted Dean to want to spend his last days in the danky little house that really isn't a house or should be somewhere where anyone should be allowed to live that's located on some corner in some foreign state. It's gross and moudly and really drafty - and it's way too close to the crossroads where Sam made the mistake of telling her how to summon the demon.
Dean's not surprised to see her. Sam looks sheepish as he sits down on a lumpy chair. "When you act girly, something's up," Dean grins, and Izzie drops her bag on the wooden floor. She expected it to fall through to hell or China by how creaky and easy it seems to break the floorboards.
No one brings up Britney Spears' flick or LVAD wires - the Winchesters act like they're on some vacation that's going to get ruined by a demon, and she acts like she's having the night off and is on a date where she expects to be treated like dirt and not be kissed on her porch in front of the glass door.
He's only got two days left - and he's not acting like a man who needs a woman's company in order to live. Sex doesn't seem to be oxygen for Dean anymore - which is odd, but Izzie doesn't say anything as she's been caught looking around the cockroach-infested 'kitchen' for baking goods that won't ever be found.
They're not the same people anymore, and they won't be in the next two days.
tell me, we both matter, don't we?
Sam's still determined and booksmart. He excuses himself for looking for a way to get Dean out of this mess. To get out of death isn't something you can easily dodge, like a bullet. Izzie should know, as it was predicted by someone she hurt that the man she loved would be a corpse even before the wedding preparations could be argued about.
It's the night before Dean's meant to cease breathing that he talks to Izzie about the crash. He's not a talker and he doesn't talk about things that hurt - but he brings up dad and the yellow-eyed freak and how the gates of hell were opened and they still haven't killed all the sons of bitches that probably made hell a more horrific experience for John Winchester. Izzie speaks about Denny - and Alex - but mostly Denny, and her plan and how she quit. "They made me watch Britney Spears, Dean."
He smirks, his shoulders shaking with mirth as he pulls her closer with his hand on her shoulder, "That'd drive anyone insane, iz."
She doesn't tell him that it's the movie that made her mind click the links together. crossroads. demon. deal.
That night, Izzie Stevens doesn't let Dean Winchester lie on the bathroom floor alone.
if only i could, be running up that hill.
Night falls, and Dean's not there. "I've found a way," Sam barges in through the rickety door that, with his strength, should've collided into her. He smacks a book onto the dusty counter beside her in the kitchen. Cooking for two grown men wears her out - but it's better than baking and suffocating herself with the warm smell of bread-like goods. "Where's Dean?"
She doesn't know where he's gone. He's hidden in the shadows, not wishing to be found.
They search for him behind doors, in cupboards, outside behind the trees. Dean's gone and Sam's breathing is speeding up. In the dark, something comes to light in Sam's mind.
He runs.
She follows - barely seeing which way Sam's long legs turn.
And they find him.
crossroads. demon. deal.
It's too late.