Welcome to Paradise
Disclaimer: Dean, Sam, and the whole Supernatural gang aren't mine. Yet! Also, title came from the Green Day song and subsequent chapter titles will probably also be from songs that are not mine. For example, chapter one's title is from Metallica's Fuel. The full lyrics of the songs from which the chapter titles are taken should (hopefully) be relevant to the chapter. If you want, I can put the lyrics in after the chapter title, but I was hoping not to have to, to tell the truth. Ah, hell, I'll just do it.
Summary: Have Sam and Dean Winchester finally met their match? She's 5'6" and her right hook ain't great, but watch out for those steal-toed boots.
A/N: This basically came to me while reading a number of different fanfictions in which authors like myself have desperately struggled to add a strong, female character into the lives of the Winchesters. I think that the absence of one makes us all want to correct the situation in one way or another. Some of our stories may be more plausible than others (which we hastily correct by labeling the fic AU), but the overriding theme is that those boys need a chick along for the ride. So, I figure, why the hell try to create a girl who wants to travel with the Winchester boys when I have myself around, perfectly willing to do the job? So, without any further ado, this is basically a story of what I would do should I run into the Winchesters (oh, God, please. I know they're fictional and all, but please). If you have any suggestions about what you might do, feel free to throw them my way, too.
Chapter One: Give Me Fuel…
Give me Fuel,
Give me Fire,
Give me that, which I desire,
Turn on...I see red
Adrenaline crash & crash my head
Nitro Junkie, Paint me dead
And I see red…
One hundred plus through Black and White
War Horse, Warhead
Fuck 'Em Man, white knuckles tight
Through Black & White
Ohhh, On I Burn,
Fuel is pumping engines,
Burning hard, loose & clean
And I burn,
Churning my direction,
Quench my thirst with Gasoline
So, give me Fuel,
Give me Fire,
Give me that, which I desire…
Ty kicked vehemently at the meticulously groomed lawn of the nearby cemetery, pleased when she left a scar resembling a divot left by a terrible golfer. The damn cemetery deserved it for being so exceptionally…boring. Where were the ghosts, the monsters, hell, the homeless people? Besides the corpses, she was amazingly alone in the middle of a bustling city of nearing three million. How was this possible? Sure, this part of town was sort of suburbia just cozying up to the big city, but still. There should be something, anything. Any little tiny blip in the haze of normalcy that would alleviate the doldrums that were her life.
Ty sighed dramatically and plopped down on the steps to the single mausoleum to grace the cemetery grounds. She'd gone to all this trouble for nothing. She'd geared up in her steal-toed combat boots (army surplus store, $20), her boy's cargo pants (girl's pants never had the nice, big pockets), her favorite tank top (she thought it made her look tough, but also showed nice cleavage), and her newly acquired leather jacket (to go with the leather, Harley Davidson motorcycle gloves she was also wearing. She didn't own a motorcycle and the gloves alone had cost $50, but damn, they looked cool). She'd stuffed a dagger into her right boot and a switch blade into her pocket along with some salt, a lighter and a wooden stake. She'd even dredged up the expensive cross necklace her mother had given her that she rarely wore. She'd prepared the whole ensemble in a painstaking attempt to liven up her life. Okay, admittedly this was a little crazy. Here she was, out in the middle of the night, looking for trouble. And not just any kind of trouble either. She was not only admitting to a belief in the supernatural, she was actively seeking it out in what must be the most bumbling, amateur fashion known to man. But hey, not everyone could be Jason and Grant and get a Sci-Fi channel camera team to back them up. And apparently, not everyone could be Buffy Summers, either.
"Would it help if I took off most of my clothes and ran screaming through the dark in my underwear?" Ty asked the silent graveyard petulantly, "That always seems to work in the movies."
The rows of tombstones remained noiseless, almost mocking her with their refusal to yield up any sort of abnormal activity. Ty heaved another sigh and leaned back against the cold, stone building. She figured that if she couldn't hunt ghosts, she may as well reflect on her life by moonlight. That was her usual nighttime activity, anyway.
Ty was not her real name. Sadly, her parents hadn't had her future coolness in mind when they'd selected a name for her. And, all in all, she felt it rather unfair that she had no say in the matter and so, she'd decided to give herself a cooler nickname by which she could refer to herself. And, with the help of the Internet and the numerous opportunities it provided to create a new identity, she had fairly successfully recreated herself. Rather than admitting to her heritage as the average daughter of an average middle-to-low income dysfunctional family in an average locale in America, she had identified herself as Ty, the emerging ghost hunter, novelist, and bad ass of the Southwest. Unfortunately, claiming to be a ghost hunter was proving much easier than actually hunting anything paranormal. For one, the damn paranormal seemed to be perfectly content not to show itself.
"I gotta get outta this town." Ty told herself for what must be the millionth time.
At age twenty and three-quarters, Ty was dying with the need to leave this place where she had been born and raised. She needed to get away and see the world, or at least as much of it as she possibly could. Rather than feeling like home, the valley of her birth felt like a cage. So, naturally, she'd thought that if she could just find a good hunt, she could get herself started on a life of adventure. Now she was feeling like this whole thing was going to be another classic case of failure to launch.
"This is a total bust." she finally admitted, pushing herself back to her feet and trudging dejectedly back to her car.
The 666 on her license plate made her feel aggravated instead of amused and the Metallica that blared from the speakers when she started the engine only served to remind her of the pent-up energy inside of her that seemed to have been building since she hit thirteen. Since she couldn't take her frustration out on anything else, she decided to target her car, throwing it into reverse and slamming on the accelerator, before switching it up into drive without stopping. The tires peeled out a little, making her feel slightly satisfied before she left the gravel lot and pulled out onto the street. A voice of reason sounded in her head, reminding her that she shouldn't be traveling at twenty miles over the speed limit on a street she knew to be crawling with cops at this hour of the night. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to slow more than five miles, deciding to instead just keep an extra-cautious eye out for patrol cars.
She didn't want to go home. That much was for certain. And since she was not technically twenty-one yet, most bars and clubs were out of the question although she definitely could use a drink. Not that she was big on alcohol or anything, but her current mood simply demanded that she satisfy it by either putting herself into a drunken stupor or beating the crap out of something. Frowning to herself, Ty let her mind wander through the list of names in her cell, wondering who would be awake at this hour and able to satisfy one of these needs. Her frown deepened when she realized that her ex-boyfriend was the only person she knew satisfying these requirements.
"I'm not calling him." she muttered, cranking her stereo up louder as if to drown out the mere idea of it.
So, instead she willed her brain to think of an alternative. She really wasn't that shy of twenty-one and most places these days simply assumed she was of age, especially since she looked older than her years (or so she'd been told). Maybe she should just chance getting carded and head for a bar. That had to be a better idea than asking her ex to get her drunk, especially if he went so far as to ask her what was wrong and she had to explain her whole crazy plan. Yeah, definitely better to avoid that. Everyone she knew already thought she was weird; she didn't need to tip the scales to insane. And that's what they'd think. She knew it deep down. Even her closest friends would secretly label her as certifiable if she told them that she skulked around in cemeteries at night trying to find things that weren't supposed to exist outside of urban legends and ghost stories. They would tell her that she watched too much TV and needed to get a real life. But not a one of them would be able to explain to her what was so damned great about their so-called "real life." What was great about a shitty 9 to 5 job that she hated? What was great about settling for a mediocre existence when every fiber of her being demanded that she do something special? Maybe she had a superhero complex or something, but she couldn't give up her dream that she could do something to help people, something special that would cause her to be remembered by somebody.
She spotted a bar up ahead that she'd heard of before, but never been to and pulled into the parking lot. It must be busy because the lot was nearly packed. She cursed under her breath as she was forced to park in a remote spot in the back. This had better go well. She was already a ray of sunshine tonight, if anything else went wrong, she was liable to set the damn place on fire.
Stalking up to the door and radiating a vibe that said 'Leave me the fuck alone' in no uncertain terms, Ty entered the place. It was kind of smoky, but definitely busy. Music assaulted her ears when she opened the door along with mangled bits of a hundred different conversations. Ty wrinkled her nose in distaste at the smell of cigarettes, but stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind her. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. She wasn't much of a bar goer and neither were most of her friends. The few that she had been to before (mainly because Dad was an idiot who used to bring his kid to drink with him before Mom found out) had been small and dark and quiet. This place was none of those things. Tables were crammed into almost every available space and people seemed to occupy every single one. Pool tables, poker tables, and even a foosball table dotted the landscape. The actual bar took up one long wall along the side, perhaps two dozen bar stools cozying up to it. Waitresses bustled among it all carrying trays piled high with various forms of beverage. People talked, the music blared, and numerous televisions added to the overall chaos. No one even noticed Ty, which she supposed was really a good thing. She meandered over to the bar, grinding her teeth in annoyance every time someone bumped into her. Ty was a firm believer in personal space. Finally, she made it to the bar and, after several minutes, managed to get noticed by one of the bartenders. She hated beer and really wanted something stronger, but her wallet wasn't thick enough at the moment to allow her to indulge in hard liquor. Mentally calling herself a sissy for not ordering something stronger and just putting it on her card, she asked for a Mike's Hard Lemonade. The bartender quickly slapped the bottle on the counter and hurried off to satisfy other requests. Ty snatched the bottle, a little surprised at how easy that was and took a long swallow. She didn't see much of a place to sit, but she didn't really mind standing either. Leaning on the bar, she surveyed the crowd, allowing herself to be a little shallow and make quick judgments about those around her without feeling too guilty about it. Some of the guys attracted her attention, making her long for more courage in the face of the opposite sex. Sure she could go looking for vampires, but when it came to flirting with strangers, she was a complete coward. She just couldn't make the first move. She didn't know why, but it was damn near impossible for her to walk up to a cute guy and say anything. If they approached her, she could be witty and snarky and all those good things, but not the other way around. Maybe that was why she had yet to find a guy to replace her ex even after all these months.
Ty finished her drink with that thought and despite the expense ordered a drink with vodka to replace the lemonade. There's nothing like dwelling on one's romantic life or lack there of to make a person want to get wasted. While nursing her new drink, Ty turned her attention back to perusing the meat market that was the bar scene. Her eyes wandered and she became lost in her own thoughts, hardly noticing when her glass was refilled, until someone brushed against her, once again violating her personal bubble in an attempt to reach the bar. She caught herself before she growled in irritation as she turned to see the offender. A smart remark died on her tongue as her eyes took in the man standing next to her, leaving her slack-jawed and speechless. He must have felt her eyes on him because he turned his head towards her and his bright, green eyes caught hers. A wide, self-assured grin appeared on his face as he took in her expression.
"Hi." eased off his tongue sensuously, making her wonder if the vodka could possibly have already gone to her head since there was no way that one little word could possibly sound that sexy.
"Hey." she managed to reply before a fit of coughing overtook her. She swore colorfully at herself internally until she managed to her lungs back under control. If anything, his grin appeared to have widened.
"Are you okay?" he asked, amusement undisguised in his voice and in his eyes.
"Fine." she replied, mentally adding, 'He most certainly is.'
"I'm Dean." he identified himself.
"Ty." she immediately responded. Then, she wished like hell she could think of something else to say that would keep him from ending this conversation and leaving. This Dean was possibly the most attractive man she had ever seen. He would now be the standard to which she would compare other guys. And he had actually spoken to her, shown a mild interest in her. She had to prolong the interaction, but her mind was coming up blank.
"Here by yourself, Ty?" Dean asked casually, as if the answer didn't matter.
'Say something good. Say something smart.' Ty forced a smile, "Not anymore."
Dean raised an eyebrow at that response, but his grin never wavered, "Join me for a game?"
He nodded towards the pool tables and Ty blanched a little, "I don't really play."
"I can teach you." Dean shrugged.
"No, I know how. I just really suck." Ty admitted.
How was it possible that his smile continued to get more cocky and more amused, "Even better."
Dean accepted a beer from the bartender and Ty got a refill before she let herself be guided towards the pool tables, forming protests, but letting them die before they made it all the way out of her mouth. At least he was still interested. That was more than she'd hoped for.
Dean picked up the pool cues lying on the table and handed one to her. She accepted it, letting him set up the balls for the break and taking the opportunity to check him out more thoroughly. He was damn near perfect. He was her dream guy. He was totally out of her league. Seriously, she could never get a guy like him. How could she? How was she supposed to impress him when a mere glance from him made her kind of queasy?
"You can break." Dean offered, gesturing to the table.
"Right. Okay." Ty nodded, setting her drink down on the edge of the table, stepping past him and around to the other side to line up her shot. She felt Dean's eyes on her and she almost couldn't keep her hands from shaking. She really wanted to impress him, but there was just no way that was going to happen. Not at pool. Still, she could at least shoot for not looking like a total idiot. So, in order to try and save a little of her dignity, Ty took a moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath, steadying herself. She pretended this was a type of battle, forcing her nerves to calm, telling herself to ignore Dean's presence. The task was impossible, but she was at least able to push him from her foremost thoughts long enough to break. She even managed to sink a striped ball in a pocket. Relief washed through, causing a smile to appear on her face before she lifted her eyes from the table and met Dean's.
He raised one eyebrow critically and cocked his head before commenting, "Nice."
The thought sprang into her consciousness that he might think she was hustling him. That couldn't be further from the truth and she didn't want him to make this any harder and thereby increase her chances of total failure so she hastily blurted, "Just please don't make me call pockets."
He spread his hands and shook his head like the thought had never crossed his mind. Each new expression that graced his features made Ty a little weaker at the knees and she frowned slightly at her own reaction. She ducked her head and moved around the table again, ordering herself to keep it together no matter how hot this guy happened to be.
She sank one more ball before she miscalculated what was probably a simple shot, causing it to bounce off the corner of the pocket and collide with a solid, sending it into perfect position for Dean. A curse escaped her lips before she could even think about it and Dean smiled at the slip. He wasted no time edging around the table, coming to stand next to her in order to take she shot she had so conveniently provided. Ty leaned against her pool cue, wondering if he was purposefully entering her private space now and refusing to back off if that was the case. He looked back at her after completing his shot and the challenge in his eyes was clear, confirming her suspicions. Ty tilted her head to the side, silently asking him a question. He just grinned in response and turned his eyes back to the table.
Ty wasn't sure if she was relieved at not having to take more shots, impressed by his skill, or aggravated that she was losing so terribly. Dean was down to his last two solids, plus the eight-ball, when he growled in frustration, "Too many of yours in the way."
"Gee, sorry about that." Ty let her sarcasm take control.
Dean rolled his eyes at her before attempting a hopeless shot. As the white ball bounced ineffectively off the wall and past his solid, he stood up and took a step back, indicating her turn. Ty let herself concentrate on the game, her teeth catching her bottom lip as she sought to find the best course of action. She paused in indecision. Despite the fact that her stripes vastly outnumbered his solids, she didn't see any overtly obvious shots.
She felt Dean move behind her and his breath on her neck made her shiver and the little hairs at the base of her scalp stand on end, "I'd go for the twelve, corner pocket."
Ty glanced over her shoulder at him, uncertain if he was trying to sabotage her or not, "Yeah? And how's that?"
"Well, since you asked…" Dean smiled devilishly, setting his cue aside and stepping closer to her from behind.
She froze at the feel of him so close and her mind shut down as his arms came around her sides, letting his hands cover hers. He positioned her into a shot, but she was paying more attention to his breath on her neck and the heat of him, burning her even through her clothes. She took the shot, surprised when it worked and the twelve-ball disappeared into the pocket. But her mind was hardly on the game anymore and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as she straightened from her shot and turned around in Dean's arms to face him. His eyes met hers and Ty's throat instantly went dry. She groped behind her, only glancing away from Dean for a second to locate her drink, quickly bringing it to her lips and swallowing the remainder in a long gulp. Dean's eyes trailed down her face and to her body standing so close to his while she wetted her throat. When she placed the empty glass back on the table, his gaze returned to her face. She gulped again, her throat still uncomfortably dry as she felt his question before he asked it, "Wanna go somewhere?"
In her mind, she teased him, thinking 'But what about our game?' Out loud, however, she didn't trust her voice, so she merely nodded, still caught by his eyes and his proximity. She kind of wanted to run out of there with him, but the bill demanded paying, so he took her hand and led her back to the bar, their pool game forgotten. He slapped down cash for his beer, but was forced to wait impatiently as her card was run for what turned out to be six screwdrivers and one lemonade. She found his impatience kind of funny and almost laughed at the look on his face when her card was finally returned and they were free to go. His hand caught hers again and led her quickly towards the door.
Once outside, the sounds of the city seemed a lot like silence in comparison and the cool, night air contrasted with the stuffy heat of too many bodies in an enclosed area. Ty inhaled deeply, but her mind still felt fuzzy despite the relatively fresh air. She knew she was drunk and yet one look at Dean and she couldn't find the will to care. In fact, outside in the night with her mind buzzing from the alcohol, she felt a lot bolder, more sure of herself. So, she stopped, halting Dean's progression through the parking lot and pulled him back towards her, reaching up with her free hand to pull his face down to hers so that she could capture his lips in a kiss. The kiss was searing and the heat between them quickly built to a fever pitch. This was most definitely not like Ty, but what could she say? Guys this hot didn't usually walk into her life, she was aching for action of one kind of another, and she was a little drunk. All in all, she didn't want to do much else but jump him. So, she pushed him back into a car, sandwiching him between her and the vehicle. Her hands sought his skin under his jacket and t-shirt. But apparently, he had similar ideas because he pushed her back into the car next to that one, switching their positions and letting his hands roam. Ty moaned into his kiss, wishing her car wasn't parked so far away.
They slide around the trunk of that car and up against the next, making slow progress through the lot until Dean pushed her against the side of a convertible with a sensitive alarm. They both jumped in surprise, pausing in their exploration of each other to hurry away from the offending vehicle before the owner could appear. Nervous laughter escaped Ty as Dean gestured quickly towards a shiny black car a few rows over and they hurried towards it. Dean unlocked the door with practiced ease and pushed open the passenger side for her. Ty had to admit, although not one usually impressed by cars, this particular vehicle was very cool. She found herself slightly jealous, but her primary concern was how fast the cool car could transport them to a bed.
"Yours or…?" Dean began to ask as he turned the keys in the ignition, forcing himself to ignore the lustful look Ty was sending him for the sake of his driving.
"Yours." Ty cut him off. She still had no desire to go home yet tonight.
Dean nodded and drove. Ty found herself grinning when she recognized the music coming from Dean's stereo. Apparently she wasn't the only one who listened to Metallica. The amusement over the music soon wore off, though, and soon she was nearly bouncing in her seat as she waited for Dean to reach his destination. They drove in awkward silence until finally they pulled into the lot surrounding a motel. They both climbed out of the car without a word, Dean moving around the car to pull her back into an embrace while moving them back towards the door to a room. Ty noticed that he already had keys to the door, indicating that he had already checked in and was therefore not from around here and probably passing through. She didn't care though. If anything, it made him more appealing. He was part of that world outside her prison that she wanted so desperately to be a part of.
Dean quickly unlocked the door and pushed them through it, kicking it closed behind him without breaking contact with her. Ty noticed that the room contained two beds, but couldn't think too much of it at the moment. She was much too distracted as clothing began to hit the floor.