trans_9 | Magic Fingers and Lost Memories [Open]

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Magic Fingers and Lost Memories [Open]

Dean made an interesting discovery in the cubbie beds of the Sleeping Hall. Creepy as the beds were, the pulsing walls were remarkable a lot like the Magic Finger beds in some of the motels he and Sam used to stay in. So he spent part of the time earlier rocking out to Led Zeppelin on one of the beds.

Now he was casually cleaning his guns in the Hangar, leaning against the Impala, clearly well experienced and efficient in his actions. Quietly singing 'Ramble On' as he did so.

Sometimes he'd glance around to keep track of his surroundings. It was quiet now, but that didn't mean there couldn't be a new threat somewhere. Sometimes he'd look upward. Soon, had to be soon. He had to ask Stacey for them. He had to get his memories back of what happened when he was grabbed. He had to know for sure if he and Sammy were free from being worn to the end of the world prom or not.

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"Can't say I've noticed. Generally I'm too busy trying to stop them from destroying the world or whatnot." He leaned back against the Impala, glancing around thoughtfully.

"Killed more'n a few of all of those myself. Though werewolves aren't so bad if you get 'em locked up when their time of the month comes round."

Edited 2010-04-08 05:06 (UTC)

"Most of the ones back home are too dumb to try, or aren't that ambitious. Just a bunch of sad fucks playing around with things they shouldn't. Though witches covens are just creepy."

Dean really wanted a beer or some whiskey right about now. He thinks somebody had a still somewhere.

He raised an eyebrow at the other guy.

"Dude aren't you one of them? A monster who fights other monsters?"

"Witches aren't so bad. Been friends with a few myself."

Oh well, game's up. Not that Spike being a vampire was such a secret. Still, now he'd have to explain the whole soul thing. Hopefully the part where Spike hadn't immediately ripped out the guy's throat would help.

"Yeah, guess you're smarter than you look. Name's Spike. I'm a vampire. But yeah, I'm working for the good guys now. And not eating people."

"They're bad when they make deals with demons for powers," Dean darkly replied. "Witches are creepy."

He stared at him, "So what, drinking rat blood instead?"

Spike shook his head, making a face. "Pig's, usually. There are plenty of butcher shops around, and they'd just throw it away otherwise. Rats taste terrible, and barely fill you up. And making deals with demons is generally an awful idea. The witches I know don't do that. Just spells and such. Goddess worship sometimes."

"So how does a vampire even reform?" Dean asked, wondering, and then remembering, "Wait so you're the guy Buff was going on about? Being all undead soulman now or something? That's supposed to make it all better?" He gave a derisive snort at the idea of it.

"And Wiccans? Thought they were just wannabes with the crystals and the hot bendy poses?"

Spike nodded. "That's me, yeah." Unless it was Angel. "You know Buffy? She talked about me?" He smiled a little.

He shrugged. "Some of them, maybe. And some have real power. All depends." He glanced at the other man. "Still haven't told me your name."

"Said she hooked up with you after she came back from the dead."

Dean considered it and finally replied simply, "Dean."

"Oh. Yeah, we did." And weren't those days a mixed bag. Spike sighed and dropped his now-finished cigarette on the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot. "You were wondering what could cause a bloke to stray from his formerly evil ways? She's it."

He nodded. "Nice to meet you."

"Great so even love can turn monsters into wannabe heroes. Ain't that cute?"

Sorry, Spike, Dean's still of you're a monster, she's a Slayer, why are you not ganked yet? He's not that good on shades of grey when it comes to the things he usually hunts. He barely tolerates the werewolves on ship as well.

Spike glared at him. "Wannabe nothing. I'm a bloody champion. Gave my life for all the right reasons, I did. How many times have you saved the world?"

Dean was silent for a moment. Since before he got grabbed by Stacy, he and his brother had started the end without their knowledge. The Righteous Man broke in hell, breaking the first seal and starting the whole damn process.

"Besides the point, I've been saving lives just about my whole damn life." Starting with his brother.

Spike noticed the silence and wondered what Dean wasn't saying. But he didn't comment. "Well, I've only been doing it a few years. It's easier now that I got a soul." And harder in other ways. But Spike didn't want to brood too much. That was Angel's thing.

Dean always kept his secrets close, and his mind guarded.

He then asked, "So what are vampires usually in your world, huh? More like zombies only with the bloodlust? Because back home, they're infected undead who like blood." Hard SOBs to kill too. Staking just pisses them off, have to decapitate the suckers.

Spike shook his head. "We lose our souls and get a demon in us instead. It gives us powers humans don't have, and immortality. All it costs is daylight and a heart beat. And caring what you do to any innocent human that gets to close." He frowned, looking into the distance for a moment, then glanced at Dean. "I'm pretty much unique among vampires. The rest you'd do well to stake on sight."

"Great, so you got a special bloodsucking demon taking you out for a drive. So what, having the soul back just cancels it out. Doesn't drive the demon out all together, or you two do a timeshare?"

Now Dean was wondering if that meant devil's trap and salt would be good deterrents for such beings.

"Just a stake, damn at least that's easier."

Spike rolled his eyes. "No, you ninny. It doesn't work like that. I am a demon. But I'm one of the good guys now." He snorted. "I'm a sodding hero, of all things."

He raised an eyebrow. "What, vampires in your world don't die with a stake?"

"Hey blondie, you're a vampire. Soul or no, you should be lucky I haven't ganked you already." Monsters aren't supposed to be the good guys, or if they are, they always turn.

Dean shook his head, "Nah, just pisses them off. Decapitation."

Spike snorted and glanced at him. "Like you could. I've survived attempts from better than you, boy." But just in case, Spike decided not to bring up any of his other weaknesses.

Dean actually grinned, and it wasn't a nice grin at all. It was one promising violence. He did so enjoy hunting after all.

"You really want to test me here. Now?"

Spike shrugged and smirked right back. "I've never been one to turn down a fight. Yeah, all right." He started away from the car. "Where can we go? I'm assuming you don't want that pretty car of yours to get destroyed in the crossfire."

Dean's voice turned cold at that, "You so much as scratch the car and I take your head right here and now." There was a reason why Alastair like him being his apprenticed torturer in hell.

"Somewhere in the city, plenty of ruins down there. Nobody would notice a few more." Also less chance for Violations.

Spike laughed at him. "Figured you'd be that type. Reminds me of Angel. He likes his cars nearly as much."

He nodded and put a hand forward. "Lead the way. I'm new here."

Dean didn't answer that. The Impala was his baby, been so ever since Dad gave her to him on his 18th birthday, and he took damn good care of her.

He nodded, checking the car one more time before walking out to head to the city level.

Spike followed him, looking around curiously. "How long've you been here?" he asked.

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