She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends
Title: Some Dance to Forget
Fandom: Supernatural/BtVs
Pairing: Dean/Faith, hints at Jo/Dean
Rating: High PG-13 for stuff that's mostly implied
Spoilers: In My Time of Dying and No Exit
Note: Holiday gift for awoken. Hopefully I didn't butcher them too badly. Oh, title is a lyric from Hotel California by the Eagles.
The voice on the other end of the line is rough, gravely as it ever was but it’s not what bothers her. It’s the tone, the hollowness you hear from those types of people that have something to hide.
Not that Dean Winchester was Mr. Open Book in the first place. He has his secrets and she has hers, and both of them know when not to step over that invisible line that sends them into Dr. Phil territory, a place where neither of them ever want to go.
The fact that she’s actually worried for Dean, may actually care for him doesn’t bother her as much as it would under normal circumstances, because she knows nothing can be normal for Dean anymore.
Faith’s heard the rumors from the underground. News always has traveled fast among demons, and even faster by those who hunt them but she told herself not to believe it, just kept her eyes and ears open so Dean could get in touch with her. Hell, she waited, wanted and , expected it, even though she would never admit it to anyone, especially him.
But the weeks passed, and not a peep, even from Sam.
When he finally does call, they don’t bother with small talk. He needs to see her and they don’t screw around with talking about why or how, just when.
She finishes a pack of Parliaments as she waits, inspecting the lipstick stained filters with mild interest until the Impala pulls up. It looks different somehow, but she doesn’t mention it, just studies him with narrowed eyes as he gets out and starts to lift her bag.
“I can get that myself, you know,” she says shortly, taking one last drag before crushing her cigarette with her boot. “Super strength is sorta part of the deal. You might wanna save the chivalry bit for little blonde barmaids who actually need it.”
Dean doesn’t even flinch, and she expected as much. He knows this game, knows just how much she loves to bring them up just to screw with his head.
Them.
Everyone whose ever left him behind is always there, resting on the tip of her tongue so she can remind him that he is alone, and deep down he always will be.
They always will be.
Sam, Cassie, Jo, John, they all disappointed him. They all left him behind.
Dean’s pretty, not stupid, he knows that she will too, someday when the fire is gone, and they’re both too burnt out from this life, this job, and each other to function.
But none of this matters, not at this moment as he grabs her hip, pinning her against the Impala and says, “Don’t talk about her like that.”
She laughs, holding her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe I’m wrong about your little girlfriend, but sins of the father are hard to forget.”
“How do you even know about dad and-”
“I’ve met Ellen,” she says shortly lighting another cigarette. “Woman’s a pistol. Doesn’t think too highly of you Winchesters though, especially John.”
He stiffens at the mention of his name and Faith bites her lip, tossing her cigarette down. “Dean, I heard about John and-”
“Don’t,” he says softly, tightening his grip on her hips, rolling his own against them. “Don’t say it.”
She’s not too sure how they tumble into they Impala or why they don’t need words when all Dean Winchester usually does is run his pretty little mouth about how he’s gonna make her scream nine ways to Sunday, but she’s not really caring because he actually follows through on his promise for once.
Faith knows that his heart’s not in it (not that their hearts have ever had anything to do with them fucking before). He’s a million miles away, and she’s here, being used so he can forget, but she doesn’t care. She’s always used him to forget too.
They lay there in silence for a few minutes before she sits up and adjusts her bra strap.
“Yeah, I get it,” she says finally, glancing over her shoulder. “I never cried when my dad died either.”
Fandom: Supernatural/BtVs
Pairing: Dean/Faith, hints at Jo/Dean
Rating: High PG-13 for stuff that's mostly implied
Spoilers: In My Time of Dying and No Exit
Note: Holiday gift for awoken. Hopefully I didn't butcher them too badly. Oh, title is a lyric from Hotel California by the Eagles.
The voice on the other end of the line is rough, gravely as it ever was but it’s not what bothers her. It’s the tone, the hollowness you hear from those types of people that have something to hide.
Not that Dean Winchester was Mr. Open Book in the first place. He has his secrets and she has hers, and both of them know when not to step over that invisible line that sends them into Dr. Phil territory, a place where neither of them ever want to go.
The fact that she’s actually worried for Dean, may actually care for him doesn’t bother her as much as it would under normal circumstances, because she knows nothing can be normal for Dean anymore.
Faith’s heard the rumors from the underground. News always has traveled fast among demons, and even faster by those who hunt them but she told herself not to believe it, just kept her eyes and ears open so Dean could get in touch with her. Hell, she waited, wanted and , expected it, even though she would never admit it to anyone, especially him.
But the weeks passed, and not a peep, even from Sam.
When he finally does call, they don’t bother with small talk. He needs to see her and they don’t screw around with talking about why or how, just when.
She finishes a pack of Parliaments as she waits, inspecting the lipstick stained filters with mild interest until the Impala pulls up. It looks different somehow, but she doesn’t mention it, just studies him with narrowed eyes as he gets out and starts to lift her bag.
“I can get that myself, you know,” she says shortly, taking one last drag before crushing her cigarette with her boot. “Super strength is sorta part of the deal. You might wanna save the chivalry bit for little blonde barmaids who actually need it.”
Dean doesn’t even flinch, and she expected as much. He knows this game, knows just how much she loves to bring them up just to screw with his head.
Them.
Everyone whose ever left him behind is always there, resting on the tip of her tongue so she can remind him that he is alone, and deep down he always will be.
They always will be.
Sam, Cassie, Jo, John, they all disappointed him. They all left him behind.
Dean’s pretty, not stupid, he knows that she will too, someday when the fire is gone, and they’re both too burnt out from this life, this job, and each other to function.
But none of this matters, not at this moment as he grabs her hip, pinning her against the Impala and says, “Don’t talk about her like that.”
She laughs, holding her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe I’m wrong about your little girlfriend, but sins of the father are hard to forget.”
“How do you even know about dad and-”
“I’ve met Ellen,” she says shortly lighting another cigarette. “Woman’s a pistol. Doesn’t think too highly of you Winchesters though, especially John.”
He stiffens at the mention of his name and Faith bites her lip, tossing her cigarette down. “Dean, I heard about John and-”
“Don’t,” he says softly, tightening his grip on her hips, rolling his own against them. “Don’t say it.”
She’s not too sure how they tumble into they Impala or why they don’t need words when all Dean Winchester usually does is run his pretty little mouth about how he’s gonna make her scream nine ways to Sunday, but she’s not really caring because he actually follows through on his promise for once.
Faith knows that his heart’s not in it (not that their hearts have ever had anything to do with them fucking before). He’s a million miles away, and she’s here, being used so he can forget, but she doesn’t care. She’s always used him to forget too.
They lay there in silence for a few minutes before she sits up and adjusts her bra strap.
“Yeah, I get it,” she says finally, glancing over her shoulder. “I never cried when my dad died either.”