33 | Taxi Driver [ I Liked That Kiss ]
DEAN SLAMMED A HAND on the door repeatedly, impatient, "Kevin, open up!"
Dean and Clarissa were having a drinking game last night when Kevin sent him a message asking for help asap. Apparently that messages jolted him out of his senses and marched right into Sam's room, instructing that they'd drive to the boathouse first thing in the morning.
The door jerked open catching the trio by surprise, and there stood Kevin, holding a kitchen pan in front of him, like he was going to ready himself from any fight.
"Woah, dude. Geez. It's us." Dean chuckled and stepped in, "what's with the S.O.S.?"
"I wanted to sleep in," Clarissa grumbled, "it's a goddamn weekend."
"It's him." Kevin croaks out all of a sudden, and whimpered after, like it took him all the courage he could muster to mutter some worlds.
"It's who?"
"Crowley. He's in my head."
"Okay...?" Sam scratches his head.
He casted his gaze on the floor and placed a shaky hand on the table for support. His knees were clanking together like silver spoons, as if he couldn't hold his own weight.
He thought he was out of Crowley's sight because he was in the boathouse, the safest place possible for him to translate the remaining trials, according to Dean.
"Don't you know what that means?" Kevin snapped
"Yeah, it means we need to up your anxiety meds." Clarissa mocked. "Kevin, you're dreaming."
"If Crowley knew where you were, he'd do a hell lot more than mess with your head." Dean reasoned.
Clarissa shot him a look. "Reassuring much?"
"You're the one to talk." He spat.
"Where's Garth?" Sam intervened.
"On a case—or the dentist. I don't know, okay. I haven't heard from him."
"What's a hunter doing in the dentist?" Clarissa wondered. She had once heard Dean going on about how strange Garth was; he had a sock poppet that goes by the name of Mr. Fizzles that had incredible 'special interrogation skills'
Dean's brow shot up, "Okay. Then what do you want from us that you couldn't say over the phone? And could you put the frying pan down, please?"
Placing the frying pan on the nearby desk, he staggered to his desk, "I translated the second trial from the tablet."
Their faces lit up. Dean grinned from ear to ear, "You...crazy prophet you. Nice work!"
Kevin, not looking so joyous, growled, "and if he's on my head, Crowley knows."
"He's definitely not in your head." Sam and Dean says in unison.
"We know you're distressed, just stay with us, alright?" Sam took a deep breath, "what's the second trial?"
"An innocent soul has to be rescued from hell and delivered unto heaven."
"Wha..."
" 'unto'. That's how god talks." Kevin tells them, popping more sleeping pills into his mouth.
"Rescue a soul from Hell? Like actually go to Hell?" Sam stammered "How-how do you get a soul unto heaven? I mean, how do you even get a soul out of hell?"
Dean stared into an empty space, "we're gonna need an expert."
Sam and Dean nodded at each other, knowing well what they had to do. As the two filed out of the room, Clarissa pat Kevin's still-shaky shoulders, "we're on your back, Kevin. Don't worry. Crowley messed with my head once."
He looks up to and looks at her with surprise, "H-he did? Why?"
"Long story." Clarissa sighed, "he wanted to join powers and work with me."
"powers? Why would you have powers?"
Clarissa snorted, "gee. Thanks."
"No no, that's not what I—"
"Cos I was the Guardian of Land."
His jaw hitting the floor, she giddily skipped away, slamming the door shut behind her, "take care, Kevin. Toodles!"
x x x
"Isn't why ironic? We first met on a crossroads case." Clarissa speaks up, as Dean placed the box in the hole they dug up from the crossroad—his photo, bones from a black cat, and graveyard dirt.
Dean chuckled, burying it after with his feet, "it was a tragic day."
Rolling her eyes, she pinched his ear, "you're a heart breaker."
"Winchesters." A voice drawled out.
The demon stood before them, hands in his pocket with a cocky smile, "can't forget about Hawkings either, can I?"
"A baldie for a demon." She hummed amusedly, "you're right. You really can't forget about the star of this show."
As the demon flicked his eyes red, Dean cocked his head to the side, "what happened to the hot chicks?"
It was a common knowledge that female crossroad demons were usually the one who dealt with the deals.
He scoffed, "I'm out of here."
He was glued to the spot when he eyed the the demon's trap he was in.
"Maybe not." Sam smirked.
He started to breath heavily with his fists clenched. His eyes darts between the three, knowing he was done for.
They couldn't bring him to the bunker's dungeon, since it's a long ride. They couldn't do the interrogation outdoors, either. The chances of someone passing by was high. To their luck, there was an abandoned factory, bare and dusty. Whilst Dean strapped the crossroads demon to a chair, Clarissa firmly gripped the table that Sam was standing on to paint a demon's trap on the ceiling.
With all that done, Clarissa brought out a flask and splashed the liquids on him, the holy water sizzling in his skin.
He hissed, "I ain't got nothing."
"Oh?"
Trembling, he says, "bite me."
"If you insist." She hovers the flask above his head, "how about another owie?"
"Wow, that was hot." Dean mutters to Sam.
The demon tries to cover his bawl, gritting his teeth while the sizzling pain burned in each part of his body. When the pain seemed unbearable, a brief yell escapes his mouth.
Clarissa tossed the flask over to Sam.
"Wouldn't it be a lot more easier if you just tell us how to enter Hell uninvited?" Sam muses.
"It's a secret." The demon seethed out.
"We promise we won't tell anyone." Dean says in a high pitched voice.
"Yeahh, your secret's safe with us, girl." Clarissa twirled her hair with a pinky and checked her nails.
Dean and Clarissa giggled, fist bumping each other after with satisfied grins on their faces.
The demon spared them a thunderous glare, but they weren't fazed at all.
Seeing he wasn't gonna answer, Sam twists the cap of the flask open.
"No! Wait, I can't." He panted, "It's forbidden, man. They're gonna kill me."
As Dean and Clarissa scoffed, Sam took this as a cue, spilling more on top of his head.
"Agghhh!! Okay, okay, okay. For a price, y'all can be smuggled across Hell's border."
"By who?"
"Rogue reapers. They got secret ways, in and out. Not just heaven. The veil, Heaven."
"Rogue reapers? Smuggling people?" Sam asked in disbelief.
"People, souls."
"So what, they're like hell's cayotes?"
He shakily nodded, looking up at the three as they exchanged glances.
"Now, kill me man. Better death than Crowley."
"Hmm, good point." Dean pretends to take his plea as a consideration, but sneers at him after, "but first, you're gonna tell us everything."
x x x
Each raindrop trickled down the windshield gradually, as if it was taking its' sweet time. If only time passed that slow, Clarissa felt like she could savor
the little things more. Like the busy, bustling streets, or the people on the sidewalk rushing to find shelter from the sudden downpour.
Interrupting Clarissa's thoughts was the Impala screeching to a halt by the sidewalk. As Dean shuts off the engine, they stride towards to a man who was supposedly a taxi driver, leaning on the hood of the taxi.
"Ajay," Dean calls, a puff of cold air coming out of his mouth as he spoke. The man's attention was successfully caught when he snapped away from his thoughts. "I need to talk to you for a sec."
He removes his ear piece calmly, "you know my name."
"And what you do," Sam says in a professional tone, "we want to do business."
"But you three are mortal—flesh and blood." Ajay rakes their appearance up and down and down in distaste.
Sam digs his hands deeper into his pocket, "But if we wanted to cross the border into Hell,"
"Visitor's pass." Dean adds quickly.
"But no one wants to get into hell." Ajay interjects quickly.
"Could a coyote like you do it?" Sam finishes, his eyes solely trained on Ajay. Dean and Clarissa knew he was stressed about the the doing the second trial.
"It's possible. But I have special skills. I have overhead. It will be pricy."
Clarissa scoffed, exaggerating an eye roll "really. How pricy?"
"You three are resourceful. One day, you will owe me a favor."
"You say that like you know us." Sam remarks.
"Of course. You're the Winchesters." Ajay turns to Clarissa, "and Hawkings. You're quite the talk both upstairs and downstairs."
"The only stairs I know is the one I'll throw you down on." Clarissa quips, "have we met?"
"I'm the reaper who took Bobby Singer's soul to Hell."
She pressed her lips into a firm line and threw a confused look at Dean, waiting for an explanation. Dean gives her a look as if to say 'I'll explain later'.
"we burned his bones." Sam seethes, "Once we did that, it was over. End of story."
"Hmm, not necessarily."
"No, no, no. 'Cause you see, Bobby was on the good side of things, and good guys" Dean points a finger to the sky, "go the penthouse."
Clarissa was completely baffled, now. Who exactly was Bobby? She wondered why Sam and Dean seemed to be very cross on the idea of him being in Hell, thus, protective.
"Usually. Mostly." Ajay says, "depends on who you know, what palms get greased. If you're on the king of hell's no-fly list, no way you cruise the friendly skies."
"Crowley." Dean whispers out. "Okay. Let's do this. How much for three tickets down and four back?"
"Dean." Sam breathes out in an instant, eyes wide.
"What?"
"Come here," Sam yanks Dean's jacket and drags him a few steps away from Ajay, who was still casually leaning on the taxi.
"What the hell are you doing?" Sam snaps.
"You heard the guy, Bobby's in Hell. We're gonna spring him." Dean replies, as if it was obvious.
"We've gone over this, Dean. I have to do the trials solo."
"This is Bobby we're talking about, Sam. Now let's face it, you haven't been exactly up to full speed, okay? We got one shot at this. We can't miss."
"I'm not going to miss." Sam flips open his jacket and tilts his head to the sword inside his inner breast pocket. "I'll bring him back."
Sam strides over to Ajay before Dean and Clarissa could say anything. "I'm in, just me."
"Alright. Follow me."
"Wait wait wait wait," Dean hastily waves his hands all over, "how does this work?"
"Not to fret. He'll be back in exactly 24 hours time. Return for him then." Ajay leads Sam into a darker and deeper part of the alleyway. Sam gives Dean and Clarissa once last glance with a nod before following Ajay.
"Be Safe, Sam!" Clarissa cries out.
Sam turns around and offers a tight lipped smile. Clarissa swore she saw a flicker of fear flash across his face as he waved goodbye. Sighing, she wished for Sam's well-being. Clearly, Sam was reckless. He wouldn't think twice and do whatever it'd cost to finish the remaining two trials.
x x x
"Yo, Kev! It's me." Dean opens the door wider for Clarissa to come in first, and steps in after. He had brought cheeseburgers and drinks enough for the three of them from a nearby burger joint.
They heard no reply, and there was no sight of Kevin at all. Just the usual—papers and notebooks scattered on Kevin's desk, unfinished plates of canned foods and empty pill bottles lying around. A chair was toppled over on the floor, and dirty clothes have piled up on another chair, as if it was a substitute laundry basket.
"Seems like the typical teenager boy's room." Clarissa remarks.
A creak sounded in the air, making Clarissa and Dean to whip around to see standing on another doorway.
"I believe the closet would be safest." He says
"Safe from what?" Dean and Clarissa ask in unison.
"Crowley." Kevin replies, almost too instantly. When he saw the duo had a brief eye contact exchange as Dean placed the take out on the table, Kevin clocked his tongue, "he's in my head, You two. And if he's in my head, he knows where I am! You know," he pants, catching his breath, "we-we should move out. We'll find another place."
Dean sighs, "Geez, Kevin. Chill out, will you?"
Kevin wasn't convinced he was going to be safe at all. In fact, he was scared out of his wits even more than before. Seeing he wasn't going to leave the closet, Clarissa held out the aluminum-wrapped burger.
"Have a burger. C'mon, I promise. It's the good stuff."
He steps out eventually with a bit of hesitation. It was like he regarded the closet the safest place on Earth.
"There you go, that's it." Clarissa places it down for him to take.
"Just tell me when all this ends, 'cause that's the only thing I want to hear." Kevin starts picking the pickles off his burger, setting them aside then taking a bite after.
There was a momentarily silence. Clearly, Kevin didn't have high hopes for the future. His mindset was to translate the very last trial, and it'll be all over.
After a while, Dean breaks the silence with a solemn reply "no, like i told you, this isn't going to end." Kevin looks up from his burger and stared at Dean like he had just slapped him hard. "Look, man. Other guys got it easier. It's all backyard barbecues and bowling teams. But you and me? We got to carry a little extra weight."
Clarissa was munching on her own burger while listening to Dean. She didn't take Dean as the therapeutic verbal-words guy, but Dean looked like he had his guard down, and saying what he actually feels deep inside.
"I-I can't.." Kevin stammers
"Yes, you can. This whole thing sucks, I know. But you suck it up, and you push through because that's what we do. French fry?"
Kevin's lips tugged down to a scowl. He stops through his mid-chewing and looks at the burger in distaste. He snatches the paper bag-full of food, "I'll be in my room. Let me know when there's a good day."
Kevin shuts the door to his room close with a plan to probably lock and isolate himself inside without any form of human contact.
"That's my pie."
x x x
Dean was mumbling incoherent words while pushing the cart down the fresh foods aisle. He felt out of place, being at a family-friendly supermarket and all. "Tell me why we're at the grocery, again?"
Clarissa stopped herself and gave Dean a look, "I told you, Kevin needs real food. We can't keep stuffing his face with fast food."
Settling a tray of eggs in the cart beside the fresh meat, Clarissa turned her back to the fruit section, picking some apples. Probably for apple pie, since Kevin had took away Dean's from the take out.
Eyes suddenly twinkling with amusement, Dean slowly rolled the cart right beside her, and detached himself from the cart. He stands behind her and rests his hand on whatever surface he could touch. He places another hand in her waist, then snuggles his chin on her shoulder.
"What?" She snapped, self conscious at the unexpected contact. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, as his cheek is almost touching hers. The touch of Dean's calloused fingers on her waist made made her warm all over.
"I don't know," he whispers in her ear, "you just look so wife material, picking out groceries."
Her face flushed a scarlet red. Her heart says, 'tell me more,' but her mind says 'shut the hell up, Clarissa.'
She couldn't get the words out of her mouth. Why does she feel nervous all over?
God, you're a jerk, Dean.
She pushed herself away from his hands and pinched his ear, making it quickly turn red. Her go-to action.
"Ow!"
"C'mon," she pushed the cart, "let's go to the cashier."
In all reality, she just didn't want Dean to see her face all flushed. It was embarrassing. Everything that just happened was more than embarrassing. If she were not in a public area, nothing was holding her sanity back to fly out of the window.
Finally falling in line, she unconsciously placed a hand over her chest, calming her heart beating a thousand times a minute. She felt a presence behind her, and assumed it was Dean.
"Will you look at this," Dean's husky voice drawled out. He kneels down to the magazine section. And guess what he pulled out from the farthest back?
That's right, a fresh copy of 'B.A.B.'
"New edition." Dean taps on the cover that had a woman wearing what seemed like a flimsy cloth, showing way more skin that anyone should be. In all honesty, from the size of the small attire she was wearing, it seemed smug enough for an infant to wear.
With a cheeky smile, he leans to the cart with what she guessed, every intention to purchase it, when Clarissa stopped him. She had a death grip on his arm, as Dean innocently looked up at her.
"We're not getting that." She seethed.
He lowers his voice to a lower one, which sends chills down her spine "Oh, sweetheart, we're so getting this."
She ignores the chills and maintains her stoic face "No we aren't!"
"Yes we are!"
"No. We're. Not."
"Yes. We. Are."
"Next, please!" A frail voice calls out.
Clarissa slowly let's go of her grip whilst maintaining eye contact with Dean—a glare. She sighed defeated and did a 'whatever' motion with her hands, causing Dean to cheer victoriously.
She pushed the cart forward, handing the old woman cashier their items. Her hair was all white—as if someone soaked a can of white pain on her hair. She had wrinkly skin and face like every old person.
"Young love, hm?"
Clarissa's head snapped up to meet her gaze. "Sorry, What?"
"It's Bertha," she says in her sweet, frail voice, then darts her eyes between the two, "are you two dating?"
Clarissa choked on her own spit and stared at her in disbelief with her jaw on the floor.
"No!" She shrieks, in a high pitched voice.
"Yes." Dean says, in a deep tone.
"What!"
Bertha had already finished bagging the items after their endless bickering. "Alright alright, children. Here are your groceries."
"Children?" She sputtered out.
She couldn't believe everything what was happening.
With an ear to ear beam, she handed the plastic bags to Clarissa and Dean when she turns to Clarissa and says, "I see that you are still in denial. Don't worry, love is a wonderful thing."
Clarissa looked at Dean, her eyes pleading of help when she saw the glazed look in his eyes. It was unusual, he was all smiles and giggles just a minute ago.
His eyes trail down to her lips.
"You're right, old lady." He mutters, before closing the distance between them. He tilts her chin up and captures her lips.
She froze against him, her eyes wide in complete surprise. He couldn't get enough, he wanted to kiss her sweet, soft lips more for hours, despite the questioning, and maybe disgusted stares they were earning. He lingers his lips more on hers when Clarissa pressed her hands on his chest, pulling away.
She was still panting, a hand flew to her mouth and look at Dean with so much emotions in her eyes, that she didn't know what to feel.
"I—I...I'm gonna go."
"N-no wait!"
Dean clicked his tongue and was about to chase after her when he remembered the groceries. He shuffled a hand inside his pocket and slammed a few bucks at the cashier table, grabbed the groceries, and bolted out the supermarket.
His running looked awkward, since his speed was hindered by the weight of the groceries—and that he had to be careful not to crack any of the eggs. He was sure he'd receive a good shouting from Clarissa once he did. But he didn't care about that, he wanted to talk and make things right with her.
He found her leaning on the trunk of the Impala with her arms crossed above her chest. She was looking down, but her hair was not tied up, so he couldn't see her facial expression.
"Peanut?"
Dean had let go of the groceries down on the floor and slowly walked over her with wear steps. He tucks the stray hairs falling on her eyes by her ear while looking into her eyes. Her eyes had a rich blue that stole his breath the more he stared right into them, like he was in a trance. He honestly didn't know what the hell was he doing. He felt lightheaded. All he wanted to do was embrace the sad-looking Clarissa.
"Why did you kiss me?" She demanded, slamming a hand on the Impala. there was an air of authority that she carried, and it honestly scared the shit out of Dean.
"I can explain," he begins, in a dangerously low, husky voice. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have kissed you right then and there—"
"Damn straight."
He sighs, "but it's just that lately, when I am with you...my heart, it feels so happy. I feel happy. And I like everything about you, your flaws, your...your everything."
"D-Dean? What are y—"
"You've waltzed into my life, like it was your home, then you made a mess. But you we're oblivious to it, of course. You make me feel so...I just— I just—"
Clarissa silenced the stuttering Winchester by pressing her lips against his. In that moment, everything was like a blur. She realised that what some people would say about kissing felt like fireworks was true. So true. That's how she currently felt, each of them bursting into different shades of colours. It was pure bliss.
Dean tensed up, but returned the kiss after a few moments. He snaked an arm around her waist to tug her closer and a hand was holding her cheek. He found it funny that he had to bend down slightly to level with her height. Nonetheless, his thumb streamed across his cheek, liking the velvety and smooth feel.
Clarissa's fingers had somehow managed to braid themselves in his hair as she lost herself in that kiss, hardly breaking apart for air.
Dean loved it.
He loved how her small body melted into his.
He loved the way their lips fit like two puzzle pieces.
He loved how restless she looked as he pulled her closer and closer and closer.
When they broke away from the kiss after what seemed like ages, their hot breaths mingled together as their noses touched.
"I liked that kiss."
Dean smiled. Not the playboy and usual casual type of smile, but the genuine one with laugh lines around his eyes. "Yeah, me too."
x x x