Summary: The brothers set out to stop a witch who is destroying anyone who stands in the way of true love. But one of them is a hindrance she will not ignore.
Warning: Um, some same sex love implied, not between the brothers. And a little language, that's why the rating is what it is, just to be safe.
Disclaimer: Don't own Sam or Dean or any of the WB characters. If I did… well I wouldn't be here, would I? Oh and just in case this backfires and I piss people off, I have nothing against any sexual orientation of any kind. Don't ask don't tell, right?
Chapter one, The Illness
Elizabeth Walton stood atop the highest room in their manor. She stared at the ground and could only wish it would greet her faster than what she was promised the moment she stepped off the pale blue balcony. She closed her eyes, tears rolling down her ashen cheeks. She had died three nights ago.
She just wanted to make it official.
Three nights ago Elizabeth had died with her best friend—who was much, much more than that in the privacy of a locked closet or occasional bathroom—Alana Gold. Her wrists stung as the fresh cuts in the soft flesh were kissed by the frigid night wind. On each wrist she had carved a half of a heart, but on each wrist was the left half. Alana had carved the right half upon her own skin. As her bloodied hands gripped the green and yellow curtains of her bay window a soft whisper tickled her ears.
"He will never rest."
Her toes hung off the balcony, gripping the wood, as much as her heart wanted to fall her body didn't want to comply. She heard a knock upon her door.
"Elizabeth… why weren't you at supper?" It was him. He had killed her without laying a hand upon her. It was he who sent Alana to the stake… to be burned. She saw it every time she closed her eyes. She saw the orange flames burning away Alana's milky white skin, the red flames that tattered the revealing black dress in which Alana had chosen to die in, she saw Alana's eyes—the deep emerald green of which she had spent many nights lying next to him dreaming about—staring back at her, always full of life. But what she saw the most was her lips, those lips that had felt so soft upon her own, they mouthed over and over "Be strong, my love."
"I'm coming in!" He yelled and with a bang, the door fell in. Elizabeth turned to face him.
He was hideous. Those eyes so full malice and evil. How had she ever once found herself attracted to him? How did she ever love him?
He froze and stared at her. The blood running down her opened wrists, the black dress she was wearing, the desperation in her eyes. He held his hands out her to.
"Wife, come inside." He coaxed, his deep voice strong yet loving. She took a step back, so her heels were hanging off the edge. She pointed at him, her pale hands shaking, her dark brown eyes full of tears.
"You! Don't come any closer!" She bellowed, her voice taking on a tone not her own. "You have killed me!"
"I have not touched you!" He yelled back, desperation finding him as well. "Is this about that witch?" He asked. Elizabeth cast her eyes away. "Can't you not see that I have done you a favor? She had a spell cast upon you! That was ill love, Elizabeth! You were not well and I have cured you!" He took a step towards her.
Elizabeth looked at him. Her eyes shining green, emerald green. A wicked smirk played upon her thin, chapped lips.
"Then I shall always be ill." She let go of the green curtain. "And death will not cure me, but free me." Then she fell backwards.
"Be strong, my love. For he will never rest. And now that we are together for eternity we will punish him and his kind. For they are the ones that are ill."
"Enjoying yourself?" Tracey whispered heavily in Brady's ear. He nodded and then Joy stuck her tongue in his mouth. Tracey smiled and nibbled on his ear. "Good." She whispered, her hand running along Joy's bare back. "Because I know we are." Joy opened her eyes and smiled at Tracey. Brady was way too into her kiss to notice.
"Hey, touchy much!" Joy squealed when Brady grabbed her. She slapped his bare chest and sat up, her arms covering herself. "We agreed to this because you said you'd write our term papers, grabby hands were so not even in the agreement." She whined and crawled out of the bed.
Tracey winked her gray eyes at Brady. She leaned down and whispered in his ear. "Let me talk to her." She whispered and got out of bed, taking the sheet with her. She knocked softly on the bathroom door where Joy had locked herself. "Joy, sweetie, let me in." She called.
Joy opened the door and smiled at her friend lamely. Tracey raised her perfect black eyebrows. Tracey jerked her thumb back towards Brady, who was currently running Joy's comb through his mass of curly blonde hair. He had the whole boy band look going on with his twist of—what he thought was skater—wannabe mixed into it. He was the guy who wore girls' pants but didn't skate. He wore Rolling Stones tee shirts, but he couldn't name five of their songs. They were only doing this because he was acing World Lit., and they were close to getting Cs, something the two former honors students had never done before.
"Let's just finish him off." She whispered and pouted. "You want your parents to keep sending you that monthly check, right?" She coaxed. Joy nodded, her big brown eyes focused on Tracey's hand that was clutching a rose of fabric to hold the sheet in place. Tracey stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
"I can't stand seeing you kiss him." Joy whispered. Tracey grabbed her hands.
"Hey." She whispered, lifting Joy's chin with her hand. "You think I like kissing him?" Tracey asked. "You know I love you." She pouted some more, working those lips her step-daddy had paid to improve. "But I really love having nice things too and if I fail… our income decreases."
"I feel like a whore." Joy whispered, fingering the fabric Tracey was wrapped up in. She had grabbed the bathrobe they hung behind the bathroom door, so neither of them were naked, not that she wouldn't have been okay with that. Tracey laughed.
"You are a whore, but you're my whore." She whispered and grabbed her face, letting the sheet fall if that's what is wanted to do—that's what it wanted to do—and kissed her roughly.
"Hey now, don't leave me out." Brady said as he opened the door. They turned to look at him and he immediately got that he was not wanted. He shut the door and leaned against it. Totally confused. "They're dikes?" He whispered. "Well that explains a lot."
You are the one who is ill.
Brady frowned. What the hell was that?
You are the one who must pay.
He pounded on the door. "Do you guys hear that?" Brady yelled. He just got a giggle in return. "No, seriously! You don't hear…" His voice cut off when fingers snaked their way to his sides, gripping his "love handles" which he had planned to use a little more today than he had. "What the f-." The fingers yanked him back, digging into his skin as they did so.
"Brady! What the hell are you doing?" Tracey yelled and flung open the door. She gasped. Somehow the idiot had managed to smash his head against the brick siding of their large bay window. "Joy! Call an ambulance or something!" She ran and knelt at Brady's side.
"What the hell happened?" Joy yelled as she dialed, messing up twice because her fingers were shaking so terribly.
"I don't know!" Tracey yelled back before picking up Brady's head. "Brady." She whispered. "Brady you moron, open your eyes." She demanded. "Please don't die you big idiot…" She begged.
"Yes, our friend… fell and cracked his head open. He's bleeding badly and he won't wake up." Joy explained into the phone, watching Tracey and Brady, thoroughly terrified. Tracey closed her eyes.
"Brady, dammit, please wake up?" She shook him which she knew was not the best thing to do, but she was freaking out. He'd been at the door seconds before; how the hell had he hit his head that hard?
"Oh my god… Trace look at his sides." Joy whispered, putting her delicate hand over the bruises—bruises that look a lot like fingerprints.
"What the…" Tracey was cut off when Brady's eyes flew open. She sighed. "Thank God, man you had us so worried…" His back arched and he screamed in agony. Tracey and Joy jumped to their feet, taking two steps away from Brady as his body started to convulse.
"What's happening to him?" Joy screamed. Tracey looked at her, amazed at how incredibly dense Joy could be at time. Like Tracey knew. 'Oh well this happens sometimes when the arterials in the aorta discombobulate and they clot the lactic acid and that triggers a massive'…NO! She had not one freaking idea of what was going on!
But she suited for a simple, "I don't fucking know!" Joy's eyes doubled in size. No one swore around Joy Loomis, it just wasn't done.
Then he was still.
Joy and Tracey stared at each other, waiting, like children do when they twist the handle of a jack-in-the-box, for Brady to pop up.
Be strong, my loves. For we have cured his illness. Death does nothing be free you. Do not fear, you are well. He was not.
Brady's eyes rolled back into his head and he started to cry blood. Joy covered her face, but Tracey watched blood flow from his nose, ears and then his mouth. "Joy." She breathed. Joy opened her eyes, only to scream and close them again. Blood began to soak through the shirt he had pulled on lazily; it was backwards as well as inside out. The blood stain was in the shape of half of a heart.
Suddenly Joy screamed. She fell onto her knees and clutched her stomach. She continued to scream, pinching forward, her eyes closed tightly.
"What?" Tracey shrieked, running to her side. Joy opened her bathrobe and showed Tracey the print on her stomach.
The same picture upon Brady's chest.
Brady—who they had assumed was dead—gurgled as the other half of the heart was carved by an invisible force into his chest. It was Tracey's turn to scream as the other half of the heart was imprinted into her stomach.
Tracey dropped to her knees and pushed on her stomach. She just wanted the pain to stop. It flowed through her whole body, every cell tingling. She screamed through closed teeth until it stopped. Why Joy wasn't holding her, she didn't know. But she was pissed about it.
Tracey looked up at Joy. She was staring at Tracey lopsidedly, as if she was studying her with those big green eyes. Joy had a smile upon her face. "Joy…" Tracey whispered as she got to her feet. Joy sauntered to the kitchen, yanked their biggest and longest knife from the knife block and knelt at Brady's side.
"Rise!" She ordered in a bravado that was not her own. Brady's eyes flew open once more, his chest rising and falling in panic. He saw the knife in Joy's hand. He sat up and crawled away from her, dragging his bloodied body with his arms. Joy just smiled and laughed at his uselessness.
"Please, I'll write your paper! I promise! I'll write all your papers! Just please…" He begged. Tracey sat in shock as Joy grabbed Brady's hair and yanked his head back to the floor.
"You sad, sad little boy." She hissed. "How is it your place? To stand between these ladies' love?" She looked at Tracey. "Cannot you see it?"
"Joy! Quit it!" Tracey cried, her strong front falling to pieces.
But Joy was not Joy anymore.
"You will pay for what you have done!" Joy screamed before thrusting the knife into Brady's stomach. He screamed in pain as Joy twisted it and then gripped the knife with both hands to jerk it around mercilessly. Joy threw her head back and laughed.
She laughed until the police and EMTs barged in. They drew their guns when they saw this petite little girl laughing her head off with blood dripping down her arms and a dead boy lying in front of her. No one doubted her prints were on the murder weapon. She stood when they entered.
"Put your hands up!" They ordered. Joy stood to face them, a smile on her face. "Get down on the ground!"
"Joy! Please listen to them!" Tracey sobbed. Joy turned to her.
"We will be free with our death, and then we will be together for eternity." She promised, blowing her a kiss. Tracey closed her eyes.
In that second before the gunshots she heard it. She could hear Joy's voice. Whispering; "Tracey, I'm scared." Two gunshots rang out. Tracey opened her eyes and saw Joy fall to the ground. Her eyes, halfway open.
Her brown eyes.
A/N: So, tell me what you think. Continue, yes? No? Any ideas? Beefs? But as always, be nice. Obviously the brothers will make an appearance, this is just one of those intros the show always have. They're always the scariest part, in my opinion at least. Anyway, review and I'll post for you. GRACIAS