MILEAGE: Family Matters 1/11
SUMMARY: While working a case of strange murders in Cicero, Indiana, Dean's past rears up to confront both brothers. Rated PG-13.
WARNINGS: Past het, this chapter has one scene of gore, chapter 10 will seem heavily OC-centric -- but there is a REASON for that and it is explained in the chapter, unashamedly AU.
Sam didn't glance up when he heard the diner bell chime, but Dean did. His expression confused Sam, though - it was the 'hello, good to see you' for people they knew, but it was mixed with extreme wariness.
When she came into Sam's line of sight, Dean's expression suddenly made perfect sense. "Hey, Ruby."
"Hey - Sam?" she asked. At his nod, she sat down beside Dean. "Dean. I'm starting to wonder if I'm ever going to get used to that."
"We sometimes wonder ourselves," Dean chuckled, pushing his bangs off his forehead. "You're looking better."
"Yep." She filched a fry off of Dean's plate. "One of the few pluses to being... ah... what I am.... I heal fast." She bit into it and her eyes went huge. "Oh, wow!"
Laughing, Dean snagged the waitress and ordered Ruby a soda and a large order of fries.
Ruby was muttering, "....deep-fried crack.....absolutely delicious...." as she slid a saucer over and filled it with ketchup.
Sam slid his empty plate over and Dean put his burger on it before he pushed his fries to Ruby. "There you go."
The kind gesture seemed to puzzle Ruby for a second, and she just stared. Then she looked up at him and whispered, "Th-Thank you."
Dean nodded. After the waitress brought her drink - which lit her eyes with joy on first taste - he asked, "So - you heading out today?"
"Yeah," she smiled. "Thought I'd head west awhile. See what's out there."
Sam nodded. "Driving, or--"
"Driving," she confirmed. "We can teleport, but it exhausts the 'meatsuit' and we have to recover."
"That reminds me," Sam said, though his voice held only curiosity. "The girl you're possessing--"
"I'm not," she said around a mouthful of fries. She swallowed and explained, "She was dead before I inhabited this body. Cystic fibrosis. Her family got to say a proper good-bye to her."
Dean blinked at her. "You're a lot different than any other... uh... of what you are than we've ever encountered."
She smiled at him around her straw and then set her drink down, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Why are you so different?" Sam asked.
"Maybe because I've been touched by an angel." She rolled up her right sleeve and they saw a man's handprint seared around her wrist and lower palm.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The older woman knocked on the front door again. "House And Happy Cleaning Service!" she called for the third time. "Mister Doolittle? Are you here?"
No answer.
Deciding she would risk her client's ire rather than forego a day's work and pay, she headed for the garage to let herself in through the connecting door.
It was her lucky day - the garage door was open. She entered it, wincing at a sharp, acrid smell that got worse the deeper she went in.
"Mister Doolittle?" she called again. "Hello?"
Finding the light, she flipped it on and turned toward the door.
And started to scream.
Mister Doolittle lay across his blood-saturated work table, impaled by his own rotary saw.
On to part two!
WARNINGS: Past het, this chapter has one scene of gore, chapter 10 will seem heavily OC-centric -- but there is a REASON for that and it is explained in the chapter, unashamedly AU.
Sam didn't glance up when he heard the diner bell chime, but Dean did. His expression confused Sam, though - it was the 'hello, good to see you' for people they knew, but it was mixed with extreme wariness.
When she came into Sam's line of sight, Dean's expression suddenly made perfect sense. "Hey, Ruby."
"Hey - Sam?" she asked. At his nod, she sat down beside Dean. "Dean. I'm starting to wonder if I'm ever going to get used to that."
"We sometimes wonder ourselves," Dean chuckled, pushing his bangs off his forehead. "You're looking better."
"Yep." She filched a fry off of Dean's plate. "One of the few pluses to being... ah... what I am.... I heal fast." She bit into it and her eyes went huge. "Oh, wow!"
Laughing, Dean snagged the waitress and ordered Ruby a soda and a large order of fries.
Ruby was muttering, "....deep-fried crack.....absolutely delicious...." as she slid a saucer over and filled it with ketchup.
Sam slid his empty plate over and Dean put his burger on it before he pushed his fries to Ruby. "There you go."
The kind gesture seemed to puzzle Ruby for a second, and she just stared. Then she looked up at him and whispered, "Th-Thank you."
Dean nodded. After the waitress brought her drink - which lit her eyes with joy on first taste - he asked, "So - you heading out today?"
"Yeah," she smiled. "Thought I'd head west awhile. See what's out there."
Sam nodded. "Driving, or--"
"Driving," she confirmed. "We can teleport, but it exhausts the 'meatsuit' and we have to recover."
"That reminds me," Sam said, though his voice held only curiosity. "The girl you're possessing--"
"I'm not," she said around a mouthful of fries. She swallowed and explained, "She was dead before I inhabited this body. Cystic fibrosis. Her family got to say a proper good-bye to her."
Dean blinked at her. "You're a lot different than any other... uh... of what you are than we've ever encountered."
She smiled at him around her straw and then set her drink down, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Why are you so different?" Sam asked.
"Maybe because I've been touched by an angel." She rolled up her right sleeve and they saw a man's handprint seared around her wrist and lower palm.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The older woman knocked on the front door again. "House And Happy Cleaning Service!" she called for the third time. "Mister Doolittle? Are you here?"
No answer.
Deciding she would risk her client's ire rather than forego a day's work and pay, she headed for the garage to let herself in through the connecting door.
It was her lucky day - the garage door was open. She entered it, wincing at a sharp, acrid smell that got worse the deeper she went in.
"Mister Doolittle?" she called again. "Hello?"
Finding the light, she flipped it on and turned toward the door.
And started to scream.
Mister Doolittle lay across his blood-saturated work table, impaled by his own rotary saw.
On to part two!