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shatterwraith · 1 year

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Mnemopolis Act I - Jess (Calibrating)

When I woke, I found myself in the same blinding white operating room that I was put under in only a few hours before. Delirious from the sedation still lingering in my body, I limply raised my right arm, lifting my head only slightly to see the IV still injected. What a pain, I thought. Still, if I'm gonna be living and working in Vanity Peak, I guess I need the updated microchip.

A soft yet masculine voice came over the room's intercom. "Hello, Miss Richards. We'll be back with you in just a moment. There weren't any complications during the surgery, but it's most important for you to rest at this time."

Stretching and pressing the back of my head deeper into the hospital pillow underneath it, I sighed deeply. Typical, I thought. Hopefully, I can get out of here soon, though. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the warmth of my achievement wash over me. It's not often that a geo makes it all the way to the top of the dome and gets to rub shoulders with the elite. Hearing the whine of the double metal, windowed doors as they were pushed open, I perked my head up to catch a glimpse of Dr. Piter, my surgeon. The stout and balding, bespectacled man hobbled through the doors, wearing a medical mask and holding a clipboard with paperwork under his lab coat. As he cleared his throat, I gently laid my head back down on my pillow, squinting to resist the harsh overhead light.

"Right, Miss Richards," the man said with his monotone, clinical voice as he took a moment to retrieve the papers from his coat and rifle through them. "Operation went well, nothing unexpected. You may find your mind a little foggy and susceptible to suggestion at this time, so you'll want to get as much bed rest as possible. We're also advising that you avoid caffeine and painkillers for a month because many patients report diminished stress tolerance and paranoid delusions due to the interaction between the related substances and the recovery process."

"Oh man, I'm gonna miss my daily Astro's," I laughed sardonically. "Anything else?"

"Right, uh…" Dr. Piter cleared his throat. "You're not going to be able to interface with the aerosphere's PsyTec until the AeroChip finishes calibrating to your unique, personal neurology, so we're sending you with a temp pass. The calibration process shouldn't take more than twenty-four hours, but you won't be able to access your residence without the temp pass while it finishes. So don't lose it." I heard him retrieve the pass from his coat and set it down on the low, metal surgical table to the left of my hospital bed.

"Try not to," I sighed back. Gotta love New Denver, I thought.

"Well, that's all we have for you today," he said. "We're sending you with some stabilization fluid just in case you get migraines during this process as some people do. I will also remind you that our office is only open until six PM today, so please don't lose the temp pass. We may not have a curfew as you're accustomed to, but we still don't want you getting locked out of your apartment, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," I whined as I leaned up in bed to look the doctor in the eye before grabbing the thick plastic temp pass and waved it at him, letting it dangle by its thin, clear plastic lanyard. "I won't lose it."

Dr. Piter pushed his gold-framed octagonal eyeglasses up his crooked nose, looking down at me with dry empathy. "Okay," he said. "In any case, it was nice to make your acquaintance. You have a copay today that you can take care of at the front desk."

God bless the Reformed Republic of America, I thought. "Sounds good, doc. See ya real soon."

"Let's hope not," Dr. Piter sighed under his breath before turning and staggering back out the twin metal doors that he entered from. I laid back down, still clutching the temp pass in my hand, and waited for a nurse to pull that stupid IV out of my arm.

The same calming voice as before came over the intercom. "Be with you in just a moment, Jessica. You may remember from your previous calibrations, but you should take this time to think about your home, family, etc. – anything that might be pertinent info for identification purposes. It should help speed things along."

Lovely, I thought. Time for one more family visit.

I let my thoughts wander to my first home: the 25th sector of New Denver's geosphere, colloquially called "The Devil's Pits." Far beneath the crust of this ravished earth, even further beneath where I had currently found myself. It's nighttime in my memory, and the thermal shielding on my family's shady hovel is being eroded by the sweltering subterranean winds from the nearby factory. I'm listening to a piece of it being blown around like a tarp in a hurricane right outside my bedroom window, and I'm trying to block out the sound to fall back asleep. My efforts are suddenly squashed by the sounds of dishes clattering and smashing on the terracotta floor of the kitchen, followed by the sounds of human and inhuman shrieking. I recognize the sound of the inhuman shrieking. It's the sound of my childhood friend disappearing from my sight in the city's market. It's the distant shrieking I hear as I cry and search desperately for Marcus, no stranger stopping in their tracks to help me. I'm kicked around and stepped on by the thick, apathetic pedestrian traffic, and I sob on the dusty ground of the market, shielding my face from careless feet and dust. Stop. I'm standing in the kitchen of my family's hovel and artificial light is meekly seeping through the yellow-orange wrappings of the thermal shielding on the windows. My mom is standing inches from me, glaring up at me and yelling, and she's tearing clumps of wispy gray hairs from her scalp. Where were you? The voice of my mother, still echoing in my subconscious. I look around at the undried blood spilled on the terracotta floor leading to the ravaged and eviscerated body of my father, deep cuts engraved in his stomach and face. He doesn't look like himself, but this is how I remember him.

The double metal doors in front of my bed reopened, and I jumped at the noise, tears beginning to gather in my eyes. The young, skinny male nurse in with long, scruffy hair pulled back into a bun stopped in his tracks just past the doors of the operating room. "We all good here?" he questioned hesitantly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," I quickly responded as I wiped away the tears that were starting to gather.

Hearing this, he continued his advance to the right side of my hospital bed. "Let's take this out then, yeah?" he said as he gently grabbed my arm with a gloved hand. "Ready?"

"Ready," I nodded.

"One… two… three," he counted down slowly before tenderly slipping the IV out of my arm. He then turned to wrap the rest of the IV tubing around his hand, grabbed the IV bag, and walked over to the tall, red trash can next to the long sink and counter on the right side of the room to throw them away. After turning back to face me, he let his gaze fall to the floor and walked back over to the right side of my bed. He looked back up at me modestly, rubbing his hands together and taking a moment before speaking. "Can I ask you a question that might seem… a little rude?"

"You definitely can," I snickered. "Can't tell you if the question is rude without hearing it, though."

"Fair enough," he sighed. "It's just. I was reading your file, and…"

After waiting a few seconds, I took a stab at his curiosity. "You're wondering how somebody like me made it all the way up here."

"Yeah, basically," he let out with a deep sigh as he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

I looked away from him and took a few seconds to mull the question over in my head. This guy, I thought. "Pretty rude to ask about a lady's economic background when she doesn't even know your name," I tutted at him playfully.

"Yeah, uh…" he started while rubbing the back of his neck with his arm. "It's Charlie."

"Well, Charlie. I've done what I've needed to do in order to survive the living nightmare that the geosphere is, but do you honestly think they would have let me up here if I had something to hide?"

"S'pose not," Charlie replied, shrugging. "Just not every day you see someone from the geos. Especially up here. It's not entirely uncommon in the midsphere, sure, but that's not where we are."

"I know, I'm just playing with you, man," I smiled at him, which he instinctively shied away from. Seeing this, I let out a playful groan. "You tippers are all so serious."

"You'll find that's for good reason," he replied flatly, looking me directly in the eye now. I shivered. For some reason, I believed him – almost as if I could see my future in the aerosphere laid out before me. "That's actually… part of why I was asking," he continued. "Just… be careful, okay? I'm sure you're excited to be here, but it's not always clear skies. Just a thought."

"I believe you," I nodded at him sincerely.

"Then take my number," the nurse blurted out. "You know, just in case. You need friends up here."

I cocked my head, raising an eyebrow, and stared at him for a second before I relented. "Okay. Okay, fine," I sighed as I looked down at the ground and shook my head. Looking back up at him, I held out the temp pass that I had been clutching onto.

"Okay, great!" he exploded before carefully grabbing the temp pass from me. He held the thick, gray plastic pass against his forehead and pressed the plastica epithelium button behind his right ear twice in order to transmit his contact information to it. "That should work for you," he said, returning the pass to me. "You know how to retrieve stored info from a temp pass, right?"

"No, I've actually never used one of these before!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, okay. Then you just-"

"Fucking with you again. Really sorry, I'll stop," I interrupted him with genuine remorse.

Charlie just shook his head in response and turned, headed back towards the twin metal doors, pausing just in front of them again. "Just… call if you get in a jam, alright?" he instructed me, turning his head only enough for the words to project to me. "Or need a character reference or something." Having said his piece, Charlie walked back out the metal doors, letting them whine and swing behind him.

He's cute, I thought. Feel kinda bad about teasing him so much, but at least I can get out of here now. Using my arms and leg muscles, I swung my legs off the open space to the left of my hospital bed. Okay, one… two… three, I counted down in my head before lifting myself off the bed and onto my feet. Time to get this show on the road.

#writing #spilled in prose #spilled in writing #science fiction #dystopia #my writing #prose

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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

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Favorite Season - Jonathan Toews

Word Count: 8,690

POV: Jon’s

Notes: So this is me in my sad bitch hours, so let me apologize in advance to everyone. This story just sort of popped into my head when I listened to Mariah Carey’s Miss You Most at Christmas Time and so I decided to put it down on paper so to speak. Sorry I haven’t been on much lately, but hopefully that will change with the new year. Guess I needed a little cleanse, but I’ll post more on that later. Happy Reading and Happy New Year! I hope you are spending it with friends or family or both. May 2021 bring you peace, joy, health and happiness!

Sidenote: This is not my gif

Second Sidenote: Wishing Jon the best and hoping that he is able to be back on the ice soon!

People always assumed when you talked about what season you loved the most, that you meant hockey, for obvious reasons of course; it was your profession, but once you'd met (Y/N), the word season took on a whole new meaning. You'd kindly respond and tell them no, that wasn't the season you were talking about. They then assumed that you'd meant spring, for that's when (Y/N) walked into your life. Well, ran into was more like it. She'd been rushing to the United Center for an interview for a summer internship program, while you were on your way out. Neither one of you had been paying attention, which is how you'd ended up holding her in your arms that first time. You knew from that first moment that you never wanted to let her go.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," (Y/N) said as she tried to regain her footing.

"No, it's my fault. I should've been watching where I was going." She stepped out of your arms to pick up the strewn contents of her bag and being the gentlemen that you were, you knelt down to help her. "Here let me help you." You picked up a small paperback book and glanced at the title. "Alors tu apprends le Francais?"

"Oh geez, this is so embarrassing," she admitted, a blush staining her cheeks. "I just bought this book a week ago, in hopes to learn French but I'm afraid I don't know a word of what you said…well, other than French." She laughed softly to cover up her embarrassment, but the sound was like a melody that you wanted to play over and over again.

"I just asked if you were learning French." You handed the book back to her with a smile, as you both stood up off the ground.

"Well, don't I feel stupid." She placed the book back in the bag, then placed it on her shoulder. "But yes, I'm trying to learn French. I'm hoping to go to Paris after graduation. Which gives me approximately one year to learn the language, you so eloquently speak."

"Thank you, but I grew up speaking it, so it comes naturally."

"Ah, well, you're lucky." She took a step away. "I've got to run. Again, so sorry for bumping into you."

"It really wasn't your fault."

"We'll call it a draw," she said with a lift of her shoulder as she turned and walked away. It was then you noticed a small snowflake charm on the ground.

"Wait, you forgot this." She turned back around, meeting you halfway.

"Oh, this must have fallen off my keychain again. Thank you, I would've been devasted had I lost this. I owe you one."

You weren't sure if they were just words spoken or if she truly meant them, but you decided to take a gamble. "How about dinner?"

Her beautiful eyes got even larger, at your poor attempt to ask her out, and you thought you'd just made an idiot of yourself. "Um…sure." She dug into her bag pulled out a pen, then tore a page of her learn to speak French book out. She scribbled down her name and number, then handed it over to you. "Call me." Then she turned and took off again. "Sorry, I'm really late." She was halfway down the hall as you stood there glancing between her name and her. "Hey what's your name?" she called out.

"It's Jon."

"Make sure you bring my page to dinner. I expect you to teach me how to say whatever's on that." The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she disappeared down the hall. You called her later that night, and then the following day and every day after that. By the end of spring her French had improved, but not to the point where the two of you could have full conversations without her questioning words here and there. Yes, that spring had been magical and if someone would've asked you as summer started, you probably would've said that it was your favorite season. But then summer did start, and well that meant you got to see (Y/N) lounging by the lake in a bikini. Your twenty-year-old self thought there was no better season than this. Again though, that wasn't the season that would stand out in your mind. Nor would it be fall, when just after six months of dating her you told her you loved her.

It hadn't been some grand gesture like you see in the movie. Rather it was really quite simple. You'd just lost the season opener to the Nashville Predators. It was your first season as captain of the team and you'd really felt the pressure; more from yourself than anyone else. You were the last to come out of the locker room, and you were feeling pretty defeated, but there stood (Y/N) leaning against the wall, holding a piece of paper which read, 'Tu Les Auras La Prochaine fois.' But it wasn't the sign saying that you'll get them next time that made your heart skip a beat, it was seeing her smiling face holding it that did it for you. "Je t'aime." The words were out of your mouth before you could think about it, and you didn't want to take them back. She looked a bit startled and unsure of what to say. "It means I love you, silly. Man, I really thought your French was getting better."

"I…I know what you said. I just want to make sure, you meant it."

"Je t'aime, Te Quiero, Ti Amo, they all mean the same, (Y/N). I love you. I probably should've said it the day I met you, but…" She still didn't say anything and suddenly you were starting to wonder if maybe today was too soon. "You don't have to say it back."

"No…I mean…Yes…" She closed her eyes then, gathering her thoughts. "Damn, I said that all wrong. I love you too, Jon. Je t'aime." Her lips were on yours then, the kiss was like so many you shared these last few months, only there was more heat, more passion as you poured all your love for her into it. "Let's go home," she softly whispered when you broke apart, a glint in her eye that told you she wanted to show you how much she really loved you.

Your lips quirked up into a smile. "Anything you want, mon amour."

Yes, fall definitely was one of your favorite times, but it was Christmas that always held a special meaning.

That first Christmas would always hold a special place in your heart. You could remember it like it was yesterday.

You'd just come home from a quick road trip to Detriot. You dropped your bags off at your place and then headed over to (Y/N)'s apartment. When you got there, caricatures of her and her two roommates were drawn on the door, all three dressed for Christmas and around a cartoon tree. You had a hard time knowing where to knock for all the decorations on the door. (Y/N) came scurrying to the door. "You're back," she said jumping into your arms and kissing you soundly. Your lips never left hers as you stepped into the apartment.

"Mmm, I see someone missed me."

"I always miss you, but I'm glad you're back. You're just in time to help me hang the rest of these decorations. I could use your height."

"Oh, so now you only want me because I'm tall." She released you then swatted you on the arm.

"No, but it doesn't hurt. Here can you help me string these lights up?"

You took the strand and hung them up per her instructions. "Boy, you really go all out for Christmas."

"But of course, don't you?"

"Not really. I don't even have a tree."

"Wait, what? You don't have a tree?" She repeated your exact words as if the thought was impossible.

"It's not really a huge deal in my family, besides I'm usually never home because of hockey," you told her as you finished hanging the lights. (Y/N) walked over to the closet, grabbed her shoes, and put on her coat, as soon as you were done. "Uh, babe, where are you going?"

"To go get you some Christmas decorations." She opened the door, then looked back when you didn't follow. "Are you coming?" You had no choice but to follow her.

The rest of the afternoon was spent picking out lights, ornaments, a tree, and more decorations than you could fit in your shopping cart, but you didn't mind being dragged from store to store as (Y/N)'s face lit up in every one of them. "Ok, star or angel?" she asked you holding up two tree toppers, but before you could answer she kept going. "I mean part of me thinks that we should go with the star. It's pretty traditional and well they always sing about hanging the star on top of the tree, but I like the symbolism of the angel."

You looked both of them over when she finally decided to take a breath. "Angel, definitely." She turned the figurine towards her looking it over, while you walked behind her, letting your hands slide around her waist so you could pull her close. When she turned back to look at you, questioning your choice, you simply said, "You're my angel and she reminds me of you." She kissed you then, right there in aisle C8, amidst the Christmas decorations.

"Angel it is then." She set the tree topper in the cart and the two of you headed to the checkout. On the way there, you spotted a sprig of mistletoe and tossed it in the cart unbeknownst to (Y/N). It wasn't until the tree was up that night, that she found it. "I don't remember putting this in the cart."

"You didn't. I did." You took the mistletoe out of her hand and went to hang it up in the archway. "If we're going for full-on Christmas, we can't forget the best part." Grabbing her hand, you lead her over to where you'd just hung the little green sprig.

"You really think you need this, to get me to make out with you?" Your hands encircled her waist as she spoke the words, and you drew her in close to you.

"Well, no. This is just an excuse." You pecked her lips quickly. "Besides, this is my first time decorating for this holiday, I might as well go all out."

She returned the kiss, only it was more heated as you slid your tongue inside her. She moaned into your mouth before pulling back. "In that case, let's make it a little more memorable." She stepped out of your embrace, her fingers trailing down to the button on your pants. It slipped out of the buttonhole easily, before she slid the zipper down. You sucked in a breath, as her hands snuck inside the waistband of your boxers and she slid them and your pants all the way to the ground. (Y/N) fell to her knees, her hands skating up your thighs as you felt her warm breath fan across your cock. It twitched before you felt her lips place a kiss right on the head. Her lips trailed all the way up and down the length of your shaft, teasing you.

"Babe, you're killing me." A wicked glint in her eye was her answer back, as she placed her puckered lips on the head one last time before she finally took you inside her mouth. Your hands threaded through her hair as she sunk down to take most of you in. She took her free hand and wrapped it around the length that didn't fit inside and gave it a gentle squeeze, then her mouth started to work its own little bit of Christmas magic as she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked on your cock. "Damn, baby that feels so good," you hissed out, your hips rocking a bit into her mouth. If this was (Y/N)'s idea of Christmas traditions you were all for it, and mistletoe was definitely going to be a staple to your decorating every year.

(Y/N)'s free hand slipped down to your balls where she cupped them and you felt yourself close to bursting. Your body tingled as she hummed around your cock. With her mouth and hands on you it felt like there was enough electricity coursing through your body that you could light up a million strand of Christmas lights at the moment. "(Y/N), I'm going to…" she didn't stop though just took your cock deeper until you swore you hit the back of her throat. It was that move, that pushed you over as you spilled your seed in her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could, though some dribbled out and you thought it was hot as hell.

That night would forever live in your mind, as you returned the favor by making her cum not once but twice under that same mistletoe. Even though, it was one of your favorite memories from that first Christmas. It wasn't that, that made Christmas your favorite season. It was the way that (Y/N) embraced the joy of the season in everything she did. Even the simplest things were a little brighter with her around. She made everyone around sparkle and shine just like tinsel on a Christmas tree. Not that she wasn't always that way, but there was just something special about (Y/N) and Christmas and thus it became your favorite time of year.

There had been no Christmas break that year in the NHL, meaning you had no time to head back home, so (Y/N) had invited you to her house to be with her family. They had welcomed you with open arms and you had found out, why she'd loved Christmas so much. Her family went all out, decorations were everywhere and presents were piled high. They'd included you in all their traditions, from frosting to cookies to playing Christmas charades. They even had you cut a piece of wheat for Baby Jesus's manager, as was their annual custom to do before opening presents Christmas morning. That first Christmas had set the tone for all those to follow after it.

As Christmas drew to a close that year, you knew one thing for sure. That you never wanted to spend another one without her. It was an easy decision to ask her to move in with you, once she graduated college, and right before that Christmas that year, the two of you bought your first place together. To commemorate the event, (Y/N) had a special ornament made in the shape of a key.

Hockey took precedence the following year, as you won the Stanley Cup and it seemed like the summer and fall flew by. One thing was for sure though, and that was that (Y/N) was with you every step of the way. You knew you had to make that Christmas extra special. It was the first time your family flew in for the holiday. (Y/N)'s family all came to your place as well that year. The house was filled with love and laughter and was about to get a little more exciting.

All the presents had been unwrapped and everyone was lounging in the great room. "I think there's one more present here," you pointed to a box you had hidden off in the corner. "Looks like it has your name on it, babe."

(Y/N) took the gift and looked at the tag. "It doesn't say who it's from."

"Well, that happens from time to time. You know Santa's elves are really busy this time of year," her mom chimed in, giving you a little wink. "Go ahead and open it."

She tore through the layer of paper to the box, then lifted the lid, which happened to reveal a smaller box. "Oh my god," she exclaimed, laughing as she took that wrapped package out and removed the paper again. Lifting the lid, she found yet another box. "You've got to be kidding me. Did you do this?" She was staring straight at you because she knew this was totally out of your character. All you could do was simply shrug. The unwrapping went on for another six layers until she finally revealed a small black velvet box. All your family gasped as she went to open it. Her eyes were fixated on the container, as she slowly pulled back the lid. The look of excitement on her face was almost too much for you, and then her face fell, exactly like you thought it would. "There's nothing in it." She whispered, her voice small as she lifted her eyes to you. You could feel her family and yours glaring at you for pulling a stunt like this. You decided now would be a good time to put everyone out of their misery.

Dropping down to one knee in front of her, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the extravagant ring that you'd had made for her. The gasp from everyone this time was probably heard down the street as they took in their first glimpse of the engagement ring. (Y/N) covered her mouth with her hands and you saw one lone tear slip down her cheek; a happy one, you hoped. "(Y/N), I was going to leave this in the last box, but then I couldn't. For your real present isn't this ring. It's me. That is if you'll have me." She was already shaking her head yes before you even had a chance to ask her the question. "I guess what I'm asking is if you'll spend every Christmas from now until the end of time with me?" Another tear slid down her cheek and this time you knew for sure it was a joyful one. "(Y/FN), will you be my wife?"

"Yes, Jon, yes!" She was down on the ground in your arms kissing you before you could blink. She almost tackled you to the carpet, but your hand reached out and steadied you both on the end table beside you. That's when you realized the ring popped out of your hand and had fallen somewhere amongst the pile of wrapping paper.

You broke from the kiss immediately. "Shit, I dropped the ring."

"I don't care. You're my present and apparently my future as well." She locked her lips with yours again. The two of you were so caught up in each other, you forgot about the rest of your family in the room; who had now gone on a search for the engagement ring.

"Found it," your mom said breathing a sigh of relief. You took it and slipped it on (Y/N)'s finger making it official. That Christmas was definitely one of the most memorable.

The following summer you married. Most people expected the two of you to have this big grand wedding, which would've taken another year or more to plan, but neither you nor (Y/N) wanted that. Instead, it was a quiet ceremony with just family and close friends, exactly what you wanted, as you couldn't wait for her to be your wife. That Christmas was your first as husband and wife, and there was more than one Mr. and Mrs. Toews ornament hanging off the tree.

Payback came your second Christmas as a married couple. There you were opening box after box. "Really babe? I would've expected this last year."

"Gotta keep you on your toes, Mr. Toews."

You unwrapped yet another box. "So is the Rolex we looked at a couple weeks ago in here?" She mimicked your shrug from two years ago. It had to be the watch, for the shrug was always (Y/N)'s go to move when she didn't want to tell you that you were right. Sure enough, as you peeled back the paper on the last package, there was the signature green box of the famous company. "Nice try babe, but I guess I outsmarted you this time." The hinge creaked as you opened the box, but you were shocked when there wasn't a watch inside, but a positive pregnancy test. "Are you…?"

Your eyes locked with hers and she was nodding her head. "Yes, yes we are." Your lips were on hers in an instant, as this time you were the one with tears in your eyes.

"I don't get the big deal over a watch." You heard your brother say in French in the background.

"They're having a baby you idiot," your dad told him, cuffing him upside the head.

Levi Abram Toews was born on July twenty-fifth of the following year, giving you a little bit of Christmas midway through the following year. His first Christmas was probably one of your favorites. At six months old, he was sitting up and just starting to crawl. (Y/N) had to move all the floor decorations up, because he started to chew on all the snowmen that he could grab. Levi's little eyes sparkled as he was mesmerized by all the twinkling lights and bulbs. You thought you couldn't love Christmas anymore, but seeing it through your son's eyes made the holiday even more joyous.

When 2013 Christmas rolled around it had you hanging another Stanley cup ornament on the tree as the Hawks had won yet another one. It seemed as though the moment (Y/N) stepped into your life all the pieces just fell into place. She truly was the angel on top of the tree.

You didn't think anything remarkable happened the Christmas of 2014 but by Valentine's day it became clear that your wife was pregnant again, and your new little one had to have been conceived on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning. It too would always hold special meaning whenever you looked at your baby girl. Elizabeth or Lizzie as you liked to call her, joined your little family on September 25th, 2015. Making her the cherry on the cake to winning your third Stanley cup. Lizzie was daddy's girl and everyone knew it, even your wife. Of course, there were a few ornaments on the Christmas tree that year. One with Lizzie's picture in the cup, along with her first Christmas ornament, all got hung alongside the three Stanley Cup ornaments and Levi's bulb. Your tree was getting quite full.

As were your wife's hands apparently, as you could see (Y/N) getting more and more tired as Christmas 2016 rolled around. Oh, she was still her fun-loving and joyful self, but she also looked completely exhausted most days. She would dust off any concerns and tell you that was the price she paid for having two kids under the age of four. "Babe, why don't you come and sit down," you told her having just gotten back from your last road trip before Christmas, which was only three days away.

"I can't. I still need to finish wrapping the gifts, then I've got cookies to bake, and get the food prepped for Christmas Eve dinner."

"What can I do to help?" You asked rubbing her shoulders as she worked in the dining room wrapping the presents since the kids were finally in bad.

"You could…" She spun around to talk to you and that's when your heart fell out of your chest as she collapsed right into your arms. Your blood ran cold as you saw color draining from her face. Gently as you could, you laid her down on the floor, calling out her name. "(Y/N)…baby…(Y/N) please wake up." You ran and grabbed your bag knowing that you had smelling salts in there that the team used every now and then. Breaking it open, you wafted the scent over her nose, praying the whole time for her to wake back up. It took a bit, but eventually, she did rouse. "Oh thank god."

"What happened?"

"I was going to ask you. You just fainted in my arms." She made a move to get up but you could see that another bout of something had hit her again. "No just stay there. I'm calling the team doctor."

"Jon, don't. I'm sure I'm just tired. I'll be fine."

It was too late for her to try to change your mind as you already had the doctor dialed up. He asked a few questions, basically checking to see if she could be pregnant, but that wasn't an option as she'd just finished her period two days ago. He recommended that you head to the hospital and get (Y/N) checked out. It was a fight to get her there, especially so close to Christmas, but eventually, she gave in and once her parents came to watch the kids, the two of you were on your way.

You rushed into the emergency room, where (Y/N) went through a series of tests. You hadn't realized until that moment, when (Y/N) was laying in the hospital bed, that she'd lost some weight and seemed very fatigued. Your wife was always this strong and unmovable force, yet right then she looked so frail. Mentally, you kicked yourself for not noticing these things earlier. After hours of testing, the emergency room doctor came in to speak to you both. He told you that there was definitely something off in her blood work and that he wanted to admit her for further testing. (Y/N) put up a fight, not wanting to be in the hospital another minute. She insisted she had way too many things to do than just laying around waiting for them to tell her she would be fine.

"You're staying and that's final." She argued with you, but in the end, you won out again.

Thankfully, she was out of the hospital by Christmas Eve and when she came home, her parents and yours had most everything done so that it was a perfect Christmas for your children. It was two days after Christmas that you received the worst news of your life. (Y/N) had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. The doctor wasn't sure what stage it was in but wanted her for more testing before they would try and figure out treatment. It couldn't have come at a worse time, as you were just gearing up for a ten-day road trip.

"I'm not leaving you."

"Damnit Jon, you are going. You're the captain of the team and they need you," she shouted back to you. The two of you had been arguing since you put the kids in bed. Your parents were still there, they had decided to stay a little longer with (Y/N) being sick to help out with the kids and her parents were only minutes away, but none of that mattered.

"I'm also the captain of THIS team," you said pointing back and forth between the two of you. "And right now, that's more important."

"It's just some testing at this point. If there's anything more serious, you can be on the next plane back here." Her voice was quieter now, and you couldn't tell if she was just weak from cancer or tired of fighting, but you could see the determination in her eyes not to lose this battle. You needed her to keep that same look for whatever was to come and it was for that reason alone that you found yourself agreeing to go on the trip.

She was right, you were only a phone call away, and she could facetime you in on all her appointments, which she did. It was not the way you wanted to find out that her biopsy showed her having stage two stomach cancer and that her chance of survival was thirty-five percent.

You could see her crumbling on the screen, her mom and dad beside her for support, but it wasn't enough. You should've been there damnit. Why in the hell had you listened to her? You wanted to scream through the phone but couldn't; you needed to stay calm and be there for her. "Baby, look at me," you said in a gentle yet reassuring voice, and her tearstained eyes locked with yours. "We're going to beat this." She sniffled loudly, then straightened her back, that steely determination taking over.

"Of course, we will." What you didn't know, was that she cried the entire ride home in the backseat of her parents' car, or how she made her dad ride around the block several times before going inside to see your children. All the while, you were on the phone with the team doctor finding out everything you could to help your wife. The two of you found the best specialist in North America and had her records sent there. A week later, you were by (Y/N)'s side at UPMC Medical Center in Pittsburgh determining the best course of treatment.

She would do several rounds of pinpointed radiation to shrink the tumor before they would go in and remove it. It would all be followed up with some intense chemotherapy. The doctor told her she would more than likely lose her hair, and that it would make her extremely weak. They could set everything up to happen in Chicago so that she wouldn't have to leave your home.

The surgery, which took place in February and caused you to miss a few games, went very well. The two of you stayed in Pittsburgh five days before flying back on a private plane home to your children. Who didn't seem to understand why mommy couldn't pick them up and carry them around anymore. Your parents and (Y/N)'s were godsends, as (Y/N) insisted you go back to hockey. You hated being away from her, though with every day that past you could see her strength building up. That was until the chemotherapy started.

There were to be six to eight rounds of chemotherapy that (Y/N) was going to have to take. They would fall in four-week intervals. You were there the day she got her first one. It took over eight hours for her to receive the treatment through her port that the surgeon had put in. She seemed to take it really well or so you thought until you found her hunched over the toilet a couple days later throwing up. She tried to shake it off, act like it was nothing new, telling you it was just like being pregnant again, but you knew better. You could hear the tremble in her voice, see the tears she fought so hard to hold back, while you held back your own. You'd give anything to take this pain away from her, but you couldn't.

It wasn't until round three that her hair started falling out in clumps. She was sitting at the breakfast table, the kids at her parents when she brushed it back to pull it out of her face. Strands of hair covered her fingers, a look of horror covering her face. "It's ok baby, we knew this would happen."

She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. "I just thought that I made it this far with it, that maybe they were wrong." You were at her side in a minute, holding her as she started to shake from head to toe.

"Let it out (Y/N). It's ok to be sad or mad or anything. I'm right here." It was the first time that she'd cried about it, at least in front of you.

"It's not fair Jon," she sobbed into your chest. "I want to be there to watch my kids grow up."

"And you will, mon amour. We're going to fight this every step of the way." She cried for a solid hour, as you held back tears of your own, telling her in a calming voice that she was going to beat this. All the while being scared as hell that she might not.

Later that day, you helped her shave every strand of hair from her head. It was the hardest thing you'd had to do in your life. You'd rather take a ninety mile an hour puck to your face then to see your wife this broken and defeated. In the end, she took a deep breath as she looked herself in the mirror, eyes still glassy from tears. "You will not beat me," she told her reflection, then looked at your reflection. "I will fight this with every breath I have." Your lip trembled as you fought back the river of tears that threatened to spill over at her strength. Your wife was a fighter, and you knew she would conquer this disease and you'd be beside her every step of the way.

That summer you spent every available second with (Y/N) and the kids. Treatments became a normal part of your routine. The problem was with everyone, you saw your wife getting weaker and weaker. She was practically skin and bones, even though she would force herself to eat. When she took her final round of chemotherapy in October, you breathed a sigh of relief. The doctors said they wouldn't know if the chemo had worked for a few weeks and so you waited. Praying every night that her cancer was gone once and for all, and your wife would no longer have to suffer.

A month later, you were back in Pittsburgh, sitting in front of the doctor who held your entire fate in his hands. "I'm afraid it's not good news," he started to say, and your face drained, while (Y/N) gripped your hand tightly. "The chemotherapy hasn't responded as we'd like." Everything he said after that was a garbled mess. Your mind clouded over and there was a loud ringing in your ears. You wanted to grab this man by the throat and tell him to make your wife better. That was his job, wasn't it? He was supposed to heal people, and damn it he should've done that for (Y/N). "I'm not giving up hope yet." It was those words that finally drug you out of the blinding rage that was coursing through your veins. He proceeded to say that there was an experimental drug and that they had no way of knowing if it would work, but it might be something the two of you would be interested in trying. He handed you a bunch of paperwork to go home and read before making any decisions.

"I think you should take it," you told her the minute you got in the car.

"Maybe we should read what he gave us first."

"It doesn't matter what that says (Y/N) if it means that you get to stay here with me and the kids; I think we should do it."

"It's not a 'we' Jon. It's me who has to do this. What if it has some long-term effects or…" she started to list scenarios, that meant nothing to you.

"The only long-term thing here is that you're dead. Do you want that? Because I don't." You were yelling at her, and you didn't want to, but couldn't she see that this drug was your only option. "I need you (Y/N). The kids need you." This time you couldn't hold back the tears as they started to fall hard and fast down your cheeks. "Damn it, I love you and I'm not willing to lose you. Do you understand me?"

You could barely see her swallow hard as tears flooded your vision, and while you knew you needed to be strong for her; you were finally breaking. "Ok," she whispered softly, and you grabbed her holding her to your body as close as you could with the console in the middle of the car. "I'll do it."

"You will?" you mumbled into the crook of her neck. You could feel the dampness of her shirt from your tears but all that mattered was that she agreed to take the treatment.

"Yes," she answered pulling you back so she could look in your eyes. "I'd do anything for you, my love." You kissed her then pouring every ounce of love you had for her into it.

The following day, after reading through all the paperwork, (Y/N) called the doctor and got set up to take the new drug. Once you were back in Chicago, she started treatments right away. The drug was aggressive, even more so than her first round of chemotherapy and within two weeks she wound up in the hospital, her immune system so compromised that you had to suit up in a gown and mask every time you went to see her. The kids weren't allowed in, which killed her, but you had them facetime her every day.

As Christmas grew near your spirits were low. (Y/N) insisted that you put up all the decorations just as you had every year. She ordered the kids' gifts online so that they wouldn't miss out on a single thing. Her only term for taking the new treatment was that you continue to play hockey. Her parents stepped up and watched the kids while you were away. You were just returning home from a road trip, about a week before Christmas when you stopped in at the hospital to see (Y/N) before heading home. When you walked into her room, you barely recognized her. Her frail form looked almost lifeless as she lay in the hospital bed, so much so that you had to check the rise and fall of her chest to make sure she was still breathing. Thankfully she was.

"Salut mon amour," you said in a soft gentle voice, wanting her to know that you were there but at the same time not wanting to wake her if she was asleep. She turned her head to the side to see you, a weak smile gracing her chapped lips.

A scratchy "hi," was all she was able to muster back. You took your gloved hand and held hers in it. God, what you wouldn't give to just touch her skin and feel her once again. But since you couldn't, you stroked your thumb back and forth over her palm, hoping that she could somehow draw from your strength.

"How are you feeling today?"

The smile dropped, and so did your heart. "I don't think this is working Jon." It was too soon to tell. Even the doctors had said that. She just needed to hang on, give the drug more time to work. "I think we need to start preparing for the worst." Her hand squeezed yours, whether it was for support or to support you, you weren't sure.

"No, baby, I'm not ready for you to give up yet."

"I know Jon, and I'm fighting I really am. But it's just so hard...Hard to breathe…Hard to move. I don't feel like me anymore." A tear slipped out and though you had a glove on your hand, you reached up and wiped it away.

"You've just gotta fight (Y/N). You've got to do it for Levi, and Lizzie, and god baby please do it for me." You were begging now, both her and god. You couldn't lose her, you weren't ready to live your life without her yet.

"I will my love…..but Jon, there may come a day when I can't fight anymore and I need you to support me on that." You knew what she was talking about, that if the doctors wanted to put her on a ventilator, she didn't want that. Though if it could save her…you weren't sure you could follow her wishes.

You nodded your head not willing to put in words something you couldn't promise just yet. You stayed there with her for a while; until she basically kicked you and told you to go home and get some sleep. The moment you walked in the door of your house, you screamed in anger. There were all the decorations that (Y/N) made you hang with the kids and you hated every one of them. They were torturous reminders that your wife wasn't there this Christmas, that she couldn't be with you and the kids. You grabbed the strand of garland that hung on the archway into the living room and ripped it down, throwing the ball of mistletoe across the room. It felt good, and so you tore down some more, just letting all your anger and frustrations out. It was a side of you that hardly ever came out even on the ice. Oh, you'd definitely dropped the gloves a time or two but only when someone really deserved it. Only now there was no one to fight. It was a disease and you couldn't throw it up against the boards or punch it in the jaw. So instead, you took it out on the decorations. Every wreath that hung on the wall you ripped it apart with your bare hands. Every Santa figurine that sat on the table, you smashed against the floor. You were just about the tear the stockings off the fireplace when you stopped. It was seeing your wife's name knitted into the fabric that got you and instead you carefully took it off the hook and brought it to your face as if it were her and you could simply hold her that close once again.

"Please (Y/N), please don't leave me," you called out to the void that was your house, as you dropped to your knees, tears freely flowing down your face. It was all too much. You'd finally reached that breaking point and just laid on the flooring sobbing and praying to God to save your wife. It was the only Christmas wish you had. Sure, you'd prayed when you were younger asking god to make you a better hockey player and then that you would be drafted in the NHL, but never in your life had you wanted anything like you wanted this, for your wife to be fine, for her to live a happy healthy life with you and your children. You'd trade everything you had if you could.

At some point, you picked yourself up and looked at the disaster that you'd made in what was once a storybook Christmas home. (Y/N) would be so disappointed in what you had done, not to the house, but to the mess that your kids would walk into when they would come home. You cleaned up the broken shards of glass, restrung the garland, and tried to salvage what you could of the other decorations you'd destroyed yet somehow the house still seemed to be missing something. There were tons of extra decorations in the closet, as your wife seemed to always buy more and more every year, well you couldn't really blame (Y/N) as you tended to help as well. So, you dragged yourself upstairs to see what else might try and make the place a bit more festive.

It was in rummaging through the closet that you stumbled upon it. It was a simple container, not very big with the word "Love," written in script on the top. You peered inside and were stunned to find dozens of envelopes, each marked with either yours or your children's name on them. It was then that you realized they were goodbye letters from your wife, as some were addressed to Levi and Lizzie on their eighteenth birthdays or their graduations. There was even one for each of them on their wedding day. A gasp left your mouth at the realization that she didn't plan on being around for any of these occasions. You weren't sure what hurt more, the fact that she was giving up or that you'd be facing a life without her.

All that anger and hurt from moments ago came surfacing back and you had the urge to punch your fist through the wall this time, though you fought it for the sake of your kids. Flipping through the envelopes you saw different ones with your name on them. You picked up the one that was on top of the pile marked 'To Jon on Christmas Eve.' It was heavier than what you thought and you realized that it wasn't a letter but a video. Taking the box, you headed downstairs to see what your wife had to say.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn't be watching this, as you hit the play button on the remote control, yet you couldn't stop yourself. Maybe there would be something on here that could help you convince her to fight harder. It took a second for (Y/N) to come on the screen. She looked weak, yet still as beautiful as ever as she sat in the chair up in your bedroom. Her wig was on, probably in hopes that you'd remember her like she once was and not the sickly cancer patient she feared everyone saw.

"Bonjour, mon amour." God, you loved how she spoke French to you. She'd been so earnest in her studies those early days and now was rather good at it. "I'm not sure where to start with this. I want you to know that this is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I hope that you're watching this after the kids' are in bed and you've put all the presents under the tree. God, how I'll miss doing that with you, but I know that you will make this Christmas and every one after special for our two little angels. They are so lucky to have a dad like you, just like I was so lucky to have you as my husband." Tears were streaming down (Y/N)'s face as she spoke to you on the screen, just as they were flooding your eyes.

"I love you so much," she swallowed hard, the movement visible as her body was frail. "Even more than I love Christmas." It was a small attempt at humor on her part, and you wish that you could smile at it, but at the moment all you had were tears of sadness. "Remember that first Christmas when we bought the tree topper together. You told me then that I was your angel. Well, now I truly am. I hope that when you place her on top of the tree, you'll know that I'm smiling down at you and our babies." Your eyes automatically went to the angel on the tree. Her soft smiling eyes shining right into yours. A sob broke from you then, as you realized how much the angel looked like your wife. She had the same eyes, the same hair, and the same soft easy smile that melted your heart.

"I'm going to miss this time of year with you; the laughter, the joy, the mistletoe. It was always my favorite season with you, though you made everyday special." You knew how she felt, for you had a feeling you'd miss her most at Christmas time. "Jon, I'd give anything to be with you right now. Just know that if I had to do it all again, I would. I'd go through every treatment, every needle, every single bit of it, if it meant one more Christmas with you…hell, even if it was one more day with you." She wiped away the tears then, visibly collecting herself to continue on with what she had to say.

"But I want you to be happy, Jon. I want you to love again. I want you to find joy in not only Christmas but every day, even if I'm not there. And I can see you sitting there, shaking your head and telling me it's not going to happen, and maybe it won't tomorrow or the next day, but I hope it does someday. I love you too much to not want you to love again. Be happy, you deserve it." You weren't sure how she could ask this of you, there was no way that it would ever happen if she wasn't in your life.

"Bumping into you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You were the best thing to happen to me, Jonathan Toews and for that I thank you. I couldn't have asked for a better friend, husband, or father. You will always be the love of my life...and what a life we had." There was still more of it to be had, you just knew there had to be. "I love you, Jon. Merry Christmas, my love." It took another second and then the screen went blank.

"I love you, (Y/N)," you whispered up the angel smiling down at you. Tears clouded your vision until all the lights just seemed to melt into one giant one. This was not how things were meant to end. You laid your head back against the sofa and closed your eyes and just prayed. Even though you'd just done that hours ago, you asked God to do the impossible, to give you a Christmas miracle.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep, for you woke up sometime later to a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Jon, sweetie, wake up, my love." You could swear that was your wife's voice. It took your eyes a minute to regain focus, but it was your wife standing over you, in Christmas pajamas, her hair tied back in a ponytail. Her hair, you thought vaguely, not some wig because she'd lost all hers, and she looked healthy, strong in fact.

"You're here? You're ok," you said jumping up and running your hands down her arms.

Her smile told you then that it hadn't been a dream like you thought, and you looked over to the screen on the tv, to see the Christmas message she'd sent you back up on the screen. "You were watching it again, weren't you?" she asked.

You had to shake yourself to get the cobwebs out of your brain. It was six years ago that you found the video, though you've replayed it every year since. That first time watching it you'd wanted to run to the hospital and shake some sense into your wife, but something stopped you. Maybe deep down you knew she had never truly given up, for she had called you Christmas Eve saying that she was feeling much better. The kids had gotten to see her on Christmas day, though there were still precautions taken. It was a week later that she was home and with you as her strength continually improved. She grew stronger every day after that as well. It was months later that her cancer was declared gone by the doctors, the new treatment having saved her life and yours in the process. She was a survivor and you thanked God every day for giving you that miracle you'd asked for so long ago. "I still don't know how you found them," she said to you. "Or why you continue to watch that video every year."

"I watch it because it reminds me of how close I was to losing you." Your arms encircled her waist now, drawing her closer to you. "And how magical the Christmas season is as it brought you back to me." You gazed into her loving eyes, yours shining with that same love you saw in hers. "And to hold you a little tighter each day." You did exactly as you said, squeezing her so that no space was between either of you, before dropping a kiss to her lips.

"I'm not sure it was the Christmas season that helped me find the strength to fight. I'm pretty sure it was you, Mr. Toews." Her lips found yours in a soul-stealing kiss, as she poured all her love for you into it.

You maneuvered the two of you under the archway where the sprig of mistletoe always hung. "Well, Mrs. Toews, Christmas will always be my favorite time of year, though I treasure every day with you. Joyeux Noel, mon amour."

"Merry Christmas, Jon."

#jonathan toews imagine #jonathan toews fanfic #Jonathan Toews #Jonathan toews imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl smut #nhl imagines #Chicago blackhawks imagine

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babygirlkiki1016 · 4 years

Text

Dead in the water

Me and Dean sat on the edge of the bed like two teenagers in trouble as Sam was pacing the room, trying to think on what he should say. Finally he stops and looks at the both of us with his arms crossed.

"So let me get this straight, you tell her you wanna wait till she's eighteen but then you decide screw it?"

"....Sammy-" Dean begins to say but Sam cuts him off.

"Dean if your gonna be with her then you can't have sex till she's eighteen."

"Your ove- wait...what? So hold on your ok with this?"

"Yeah, I mean it was gonna happen sooner or later. It's hard for you to stay away from a beautiful lady anyways." I blushed at Sam's comment.

"Well that's new." Dean mutters and he grabs a lock of my hair, making me look over at him.

"What?"

"Your hair it's pink and purple."

"So two emotions at once? I'm guessing pink is love....and purple is fear. So your nervous and feeling loved at the same time!" Sam grabs his laptop and begins taking even more notes.

"Aren't you guys afraid if me?....I mean this isn't normal, don't you guys think I'm a monster or something?" I wondered, was I a monster? Is this what happened to me years ago? Is this what dad was talking about, about how he didn't trust John because...something happened to me?

"Well you certainly have powers, but you can't control it besides you don't know what's going on."

"And you haven't killed anyone." Dean adds.

"But why is this happening now? When I was at home none of this was happening....maybe I should call dad..."

"No, we can't risk him finding us, the next time you call him he'll probably be ready....and I don't want you to go..." Dean admits, while scooting closer, I could tell he wanted to kiss me.

"You two get a room! Wait no, don't do that." Sam laughs, "Alright love birds we need to get back to the subject at hand." He starts researching about the case we're working on, Dean was still staring at me. "Dean!" Sam yells, catching his attention. "Day dream later, work now, you need to take Y/n to get a few things."

"Like what?" He asked.

"Tattoo, gun that kind of stuff, if she's gonna be a hunter then she needs to have the supplies."

"W-Wait what tattoo?" I stutter and Dean points to the pentagram on his chest.

"It's so we don't get possessed, don't worry I'll be there with you."

"Ok, and a gun? I mean why not just use the ones we already have in the back of the impala?"

"Cause you need your own, one that you can carry with you at all times." Dean gets up, puts his shirt back on then grabs the keys to baby. "C'mon we'll get you prepared while Sam does his nerdy thing." I chuckle and follow after him, while grabbing his hand to hold it. He didn't even question it, he pulled me in and kissed my lips, making me yearn for more. Sadly the kiss didn't last long, if we stood there any longer Sam probably would've come out. When we got in the car, the whole drive to the tattoo parlor we were jamming out to eye of the tiger. Which I was still humming it while I was sitting in the chair getting the pentagram on my (wherever you decide to put it.)

"That's a pretty good spot." Dean commented, as he sat next to me.

"Thank you." I grinned, he smiled but it slowly faltered over time, making me grab his hand, squeezing it. "You ok?" I asked worriedly.

"...What happened at the motel can't happen again." He didn't even look at me it was like he was ashamed, did he regret what we did?

"Why not?" He didn't answer, I grabbed his chin and made him face me. Sighing he scoots closer as he lowers his voice.

"Your seventeen Y/n...."

"So? We only have (how many months until you birthday.) I'm technically eighteen already."

"One I don't wanna get arrested and two, we met about about three weeks ago. Don't you think we're moving a little to fast?"

"According to Sam you bone a girl on every case, or at least try to, and your saying it's a little to fast?"

"Good point, but....I just want you to be sure this-" He points to himself, as if himself was a problem. "-is what you want."

"....You are what I want, if you weren't I wouldn't have kissed you. Although if you wanna wait....I respect your decision." That made him smile, he leaned over and kissed my forehead.

"Thank you, now I believe your tattoo is done." I looked down at it, it was sexy as hell. After we payed for it, we went on the road again. When we crossed over the bridge I asked Dean if we could stop to see the lake and look at the sunset. Hesitantly he agreed and pulled over, I got out excitedly. The lake was a dark blue mixed in with pink and orange from the sun, it made me sad to think it was gonna be gone soon.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Not as beautiful as you." Dean flirted making me blush as he pulled me closer by the waist. He started to lean in, those rough lips covering my soft ones.

"I thought we couldn't do this again."

"I meant almost having sex, kisses are something we can definitely do." He smirked and leaned back in again, and as his lips brushed against mine his phone rang. Angrily he sighed and answer it, it was probably Sam.

"What? No we're not!" The look on his face made me giggle as he looked over at me. He started moving his hand, pretending it was Sam who talks to much. "We'll be there in twenty minutes Sam, we still gotta get a gun. Sam, Sammy we're fine....alright we'll be there as soon as we can. Mhm ok bye."

"He's certainly a talker huh?"

"It's a nightmare on how much he can talk...now where were we? Oh yeah I remember." He pulled me back to his side. "Might as well steal as many kisses I can get before we head back to the kiss police." He smirked and smashed his lips against mine once more as his arms wrapped around me. This time it wasn't just a normal kiss, I fought for dominance, my tongue asking for entry. Biting his lip he pulled back, "Y/n keep doing that and I just might say screw it again.." As he said that he slipped from my grasp. "No I promised myself I can wait...c'mon let's get back to Sam." Sighing in disappointment I got back in the car, I guess he's really serious about this.

"I found something." Sam says as we sit next to him. "So there's the three drowning victims this year."

"Any before that?" I wondered.

"Uh, yeah." Sam has a browser window open to The Lake Manitoc Tribune. "DROWNING TAINTS ICE FISHING FESTIVAL." It says, he clicks, and another browser window comes up, again The Tribune: 12-YEAR-OLD Girl DROWNS IN LAKE, Second drowning in 6 months at Lake Manitoc. "Damn, so six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace."

"So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?" Dean jokes as he grabs a beer, he hands the both of us one.

"Dean no." Sam tries to take it away from me.

"Aww c'mon Sammy one beer won't hurt." Dean winks at me, both of the boys stare at me as I take a sip without any reaction. "See what'd I say? She's fine."

"So this whole lake monster theory." I try getting them back on track. "It, it just bugs me."

"Why?" Sam looks at me in confusion.

"Loch Ness, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing." Sam looks at the Tribune homepage once more.

"Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it." Sam states as he scrolls to the comments section of an article, I point to one.

"Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?" I remember that name, I thought, it's so familiar. Sam reads from the page.

"Christopher Barr, the victim in May." Sam clicks a link, opening a new page. "LOCAL Man IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT." The picture loads and it shows a police officer with Lucas. "Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued." Sam clicks the picture for a better look, then scratches his head. "Maybe we have an eyewitness after all."

"That kid must be so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over....." I felt bad, but so far Lucas is our only lead, hopefully he'll help us. We headed to the park planning to talk to Lucas who was our only witness. Kids are laughing and playing as Andrea sits on a bench and watches her kid. Who is at another bench coloring and playing with toy soldiers.

"Can we join you?" Sam asks and Andrea looks up.

"I'm here with my son." She says as I spot Lucas and so does Dean.

"Oh. Mind if we say hi?" Dean asks, and he lightly grabs my arm signaling for me to come with.

"Why are you bringing me with you?"

"Cause of he doesn't talk, then hopefully you can convince him." We approach Lucas, who's drawing a picture.

"How's it going?" Dean kneels down next to the bench where Lucas is coloring, when Lucas doesn't even look up, Dean picks up one of the toy soldiers.

"Oh, I used to love these things." Dean imitates guns and explosions, I chuckle as he tosses the toy soldier down.

"I think crayons is more his thing Dean. That's cool, besides I like to draw myself, including painting." I noticed that he has a pile of drawings on the bench. Dean takes a look, the top one is of a big black swirl, the second one is of a red bicycle.

"Hey, these are pretty good. You mind if we sit and draw with you for a while?" Dean asks, he picks up a crayon. "I'm not so bad myself."

"Oh really?" I ask.

"Yea I'm a pretty good artist."

"Mhm...we'll see." I grab a crayon and a piece of paper, and start drawing. "Can you draw a bird?"

"Oh so this is a competition? Your on."

Dean sits on the bench, picks up a pad of paper, and starts drawing. "You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something." Dean says to Lucas. "You don't think anyone will listen to you, or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake...hm?" I say, Dean sighs. "Okay, no problem. This is for you." Dean holds out to Lucas the picture he drew, it's stick figures. "This is my family." Dean points at each person in turn. "That's my dad. That's my mom. That's my geek brother, and that's me, then a little birdy in the sky-" Dean stops talking as he sees my drawing, which was a lot more detailed than his.

"I thought you could draw Dean." I giggle.

"All right, so I'm a sucky artist...." Dean waits for any sign from Lucas, hoping he would chime in but nothing. "Well see you around, Lucas." Dean heads back to Sam and Andrea, I smile, he seems really good with kids, I thought.

"Here." I place my drawing next to Lucas. "You can keep it...just know of you need anything, I'm here." Him still not responding, I make my way to the others.

"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident." I hear Andrea say.

"Yeah, we heard. Sorry." Dean says softly.

"What are the Doctors saying?" I ask.

"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress." She explains.

"That can't be easy. For either of you." Sam intervenes.

"We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..."

"Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with." Dean smiles and looks over at me, making me roll my eyes.

"You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish-" Andrea goes silent as Lucas walks up, carrying a picture.

"Hey sweetie, you ok?" I kneel and smile, he hands me the picture. "Thank you..." It's a picture of the Carlton house....

Me and Dean are inside the motel room, I'm sitting at the table and Dean is sitting on a bed. Sam went to the library to get some books so we were alone.

"Y/n? Here." Dean suddenly speaks, he pats the seat next to him. I slowly walk over and sit next to him.

"You ok?"

"Yeah...About earlier, on the bridge...."

"Dean..."

"It's not that I don't want to I do trust me I do...."

"Don't apologize, it's ok I understand..." He glances over at me, his eyes showed a little bit of lust. We both started to lean, this feels wrong, I thought, but yet so right. We've only known each other for a few weeks, yet I wanted him more as his lips brushed against mine. Our lips connect, making me scoot closer but Dean pulls back again.

"We can't..." Yet he kisses me again muttering over and over one more. I slipped onto his lap, straddling him while pulling closer. Before we could possibly go any farther Sam opens the door and comes in as we quickly seperate.

"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie." He says, unaware of what was going on.

"What do you mean?" I questioned, Sam sits across from me and Dean.

"I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

"He drowned?" Dean asks.

"Yep. In the sink."

"What the hell? So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else."

"Yeah, but what?"

"I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source."

"The lake, that's the source." I chime in. "Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months so whatever this thing is, it's running out of time."

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere." Sam says as Dean stands up.

"This is gonna happen again soon. And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton."

"Yeah, it took both his kids." Dean growls.

"I've been asking around. Lucas's dad, Chris, is Bill Carlton's godson."

"Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit."

We left to go to the Carlton house a s spotted Bill sitting on the bench on the dock. Sam speaks "Mr. Carlton?" He looks up, wondering who we are

"We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

"We're from the, the Department-" Bill cuts Dean off.

"I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today."

"Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there? Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death-we think there might be a connection to you or your family." I explain.

"My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please." Realizing we weren't gonna get any where we decide to head back to the car.

"What do you guys think?" Sam ask.

"I think the poor guy's been through hell. I also think he's not telling us something." Dean guesses, Sam leans on the Impala.

"So now what?" I ask, Dean goes still "What is it?"

"Huh...." Dean is looking at the Carlton house. "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something. Y/n do you have the picture Lucas gave to you?" I nod and pull it out, the picture Lucas brought him, which is of the Carlton house.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea." Andrea says, we decided to give Lucas another visit hoping he'd talk to us.

"We just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes." I plead.

"He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?"

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there." Sam explained.

"My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all."

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son." Dean looks at her, hoping she'll say yes. Silently she agrees leads us into Lucas room with Sam and Andrea behind us, he's coloring, toy soldiers standing around him. We enter and Dean crouches down by Lucas. "Hey, Lucas. You remember us?" I notice Lucas has drawn two more pictures of a red bicycle. "You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, we need your help again." Lucas is drawing a person in water. Dean opens the house picture and puts it down in front of Lucas.

"How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me." He ignores Dean and keeps coloring. I slowly walk over and sit down in front of him. "You're scared. It's okay. I understand." Dean told him. "See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom...I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom-I know she wants me to be brave. Cause she taught me to be brave. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too...its ok if you don't want to, but I really need your help." Lucas drops his crayon and looks up at Dean then at me. He hands me a picture of a white church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap and red bicycle in front of a wooden fence.

"Thanks, Lucas." I smile, which he returns making me fill with happiness. After we left Andrea's house the three of us are standing infront of the Impala, Sam examining the church picture.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died." Dean speaks.

"There are cases-going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies." Sam groans.

"It's all part of the process." I chime in. "Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?"

"You mean magically?" Dean asked, confused.

"Yeah, I mean he might be connected but he doesn't even know...but what does the church have to do with this?"

"I don't know, but the only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone." Sam looks at the picture. "See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here."

"Oh, college boy thinks he's so smart." Dean comments.

"Well what about the church we passed by when we drove into town?" I wondered which the boys thought it wouldn't hurt. So we drove to the white church shaped like the one in Lucas's picture. There's a yellow house next to the church and a wooden fence near the house. When we got to the door, I knocked and a woman answered. We told her we were FBI, at first she was hesitant but eventually let's us in.

"Im sorry to mother you ma'am, but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle." I ask.

"No Ms, Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now." She sighs, and I notice a picture of Peter on the side table. "The police never-I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared." Sam points out to Dean a number of toy soldiers on a table. Just like the ones at Luca's house, I thought, so I was right. "Losing him-you know, it's...it's worse than dying." She explained, however I felt someone staring at me, it was Dean. When we make eye contact he looks away, cheeks burning.

"Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?" Dean asks.

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up." Sweeny answers, I start to walk around and pick a picture off the mirror. There are two boys in the picture, one Peter with a bicycle. I read the back of the picture, the words made my eyes go wide. "Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy." I mutter, after the visit with Mrs. Sweeny, we decide to go talk to Bill again. "Mr. Carlton?" Sam calls out as we walk up to the house, we hear an engine roar. We run around the house to see Bill going out on the lake in his boat. "Hey, check it out." Dean says, pointimg towards the lake. We start to run to the end of the dock, yelling. "Mr. Carlton! You need to come back! Come out of the water! Turn the boat around!"

He ignores us and keeps going, the boat was to far out, all I could see was the water rising up, making Bill's boat flip over.

After the accident me, Sam, Dean, and Jake walk in the door of the police station. Andrea looks over, "Sam, Y/n, Dean." She stands up, putting the bag and a container on her chair. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"So now you're on a first-name basis." Jake says. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you dinner."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time."

"I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"

"Right now we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home." Lucas looks up and whines, looking stricken. He jumps up and grabs my arm, pulling and tugging.

"Lucas, hey, what is it?" I kneel down, it was like he was trying to get a message to me but couldn't form the words. "Lucas?"

"Lucas." Andrea calls.

"Lucas, it's okay. It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay. It's okay." I say and was about to comfort him when Andrea pulls him away from me and leads him outside. He doesn't look away from me however. Jake throws down his jacket and goes into his office. The three of us follow behind. "Okay, just so I'm clear, you see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill-who is a very good swimmer, by the way-into the drink, and you never see him again?" Jake summarizes, Dean glances at me.

"Yeah, that about sums it up." Dean mutters.

"And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service." Dean looks surprised. "That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three."

"See, now, we can explain that."

"Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

"Door number two sounds good." Sam says but I was about to protest.

"That's the one I'd pick." After that we left, packed our stuff an left. I was pissed, there is something happening here and we're just gonna leave? The three of us are in the Impala, waiting at a traffic light. A sign says I-43 North to Milwaukee is to the left. The light turns green, but the Impala doesn't move, after a few seconds Dean turns right.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Thats what I'm wondering to. Dean, this job, I think it's over." Sam tells him.

"I'm not so sure." Dean says.

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest."

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?"

"Deans gotta point, I don't think this is over either." I agree.

"But why would you think that?" Sam questioned.

"Because Lucas was really scared."

"That's what this is about?" Sam groans.

"I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay." Dean agrees.

"Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?" Sam chuckles and Dean glances at Sam.

"Shut up."

We arrived back at the Barr's and stood out there for at least a good five minutes.

"Are you sure about this? It's pretty late." Sam asks us, Dean rings the doorbell. At that moment, Lucas opens the door, desperately afraid.

"Lucas? Lucas!" I yell but he takes off. We follow him to the hallway, water is pouring out from under the bathroom door and down the stairs. Lucas starts pounding on the bathroom door again. Dean pushes him over to Sam and I kick in the door. Lucas grabs Dean and me, so Sam runs into the bathroom and sticks his arms in the tub, trying to pull Andrea out. She is pulled back under, and Sam is struggling, so I run over and help him out. The force is strong but not strong enough, we keep pulling until Andrea is all the way out. As soon as she's out she starts coughing up water, later Andrea is sitting in the living room, dry and wearing comfortable clothing.

"Can you tell me?" Sam asks, who is sitting next to me.

"No." She answers. Dean and I were looking through notebooks on bookshelves, to see if anything that is happening would relate to the situation.

"It doesn't make any sense." She starts crying. "I'm going crazy." She puts her face in her hands.

"No, you're not. Tell me what happened. Everything." Sam pleads.

"I heard...I thought I heard...there was this voice."

"What did it say?"

"It said...it said 'come play with me'. What's happening?" Dean pulls out a scrapbook that says "Jake - 12 years old" and opens it, flipping pages. He closes it again, nudges me and we go over to Sam. He puts the book down in front of Andrea, open to a picture of Explorer Troop 37. "Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?"

"What? Um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures." She moves her finger over to another picture of Jake as a child, he is standing next to Peter. Dean looks at Sam, then me.

"Chris Barr's drowning. The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the Sheriff."

"Bill and the Sheriff-they were both involved with Peter." I muttered

"What about Chris? My dad-what are you talking about?" She asks, I look over to Lucas. "Lucas?" I call, he is staring out the window.

"Lucas, what is it?" Dean asks, Lucas opens the door and walks outside. We all follow him, he look determined.

"Lucas, honey?" Andrea calls as he stops and looks at the ground, then at Dean. "You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?" Dean says and Andrea pulls Lucas back to the house. Dean and Sam presumably fetch shovels from the Impala, before they start digging. After five minutes later I hold out my hand.

"Here Sam, I'll take over, why don't you go inside?" He nods and heads inside after handing me the shovel, so now it's just me and Dean. It was silent for a little while, until I spoke. "So, we gonna talk about it?" Dean glances at me.

"About what?"

"...The kiss, that Sam sort of ruined." He laughs.

"Well uh...what is there to talk about?" He stops, making me stop as I walk over to him, lightly placing my hand on his. "Dean I...Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why kiss me? I mean do you...love me? Or is this just a fling." He goes silent for a second, but speaks.

"I don't know what I feel...however when I'm with you I'm happy..." I smile, I make him happy, I thought. "Y/n...I know your seventeen, but I want to be with you. So will you be my girlfriend?" Quickly I nod which makes a flower bloom on his features. He slams his lips against mine. He drops the shovel and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. Sam clears his throat while laughing silently and we pull away, both of our cheeks red. "Am I interrupting?" I chuckle and we go back to digging as awkwardness fills the air. My shovel clanks against something, and me and Dean dig with our hands, pulling out a red bicycle.

"Peter's bike." I whisper.

"Who are you?" Jake growls from behind us, pointing a gun.

"Put the gun down, Jake." I tell him.

"How did you know that was there?"

"What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried."

"I don't know what the hell your talking about."

"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about." Just then Andrea runs up yelling. "Dad!"

"And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit." Dean mentions.

"It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them. And it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does." I tell Jake, he scoffs.

"Yeah, and how do you know that?"

"Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton." Sam explains.

"Listen to yourselves, all of you. You're insane."

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake." Dean begs.

"Dad, is any of this true?" Andrea asks, voice shaking.

"No. Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous."

"Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me." Jake does. "Tell me you-you didn't kill anyone." He looks away in shame. "Oh my God."

"Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank." Jake tells us and Dean glances at Sam. "Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational."

"All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now." Dean warns, but Andrea turns her head and spots Lucas going down to the lake, she gasps. We turn to what she's looking at, "Lucas!" I yell and I run up to the dock. Lucas is leaning over the side, reaching for a toy soldier in the water. "Lucas!" Dean yells.

"Lucas! Baby, stay where you are" Andrea yells. A hand comes up and pulls Lucas into the water. The adults have reached the edge of the lake. Jake stops as Peter's head is visible, Jake recognizes him. We keep running to the end of the dock.

"Oh my God!" Andrea yells. She takes off her jacket to jump in.

"Andrea, stay there!" I say and I jump in, I could hear Andrea trying to get to Lucas.

"We'll get him! Just stay on the dock!" Sam pleads. I could see Lucas at the bottom and I swim down there to get him. He was being dragged down, I swim faster, what I didn't understand is Lucas was let go and started floating upwards. Did the ghost just let him go? That doesn't matter, I grab Lucas and swim back to the surface. I emerge while holding Lucas, who isn't moving.

The three of us walk out of the motel, Dean opens his car door and Sam tosses a duffel in.

"Look, we're not gonna save everybody." Sam says, he was referring to Jake who died to save Lucas.

"I know." Dean sighs.

"Sam, Dean." Andrea walks up with Lucas. "Hey." Me and Dean say at the same time. "We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road." Lucas is carrying a tray of sandwiches.

"Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."

"Can I give it to them now?" Lucas excitedly asks.

"Of course." Andrea smiles and kisses his head.

"Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car." Dean says.

"How you holding up?" I ask Andrea.

"It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?" I sigh. "Andrea, I'm sorry, if I knew-" She silences me and shakes her head.

"You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that." I smile as Dean walks up to me with Lucas.

"All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time."

"Zeppelin rules!" Lucas laughs.

"That's right. Up high." Dean holds his hand up for a high-five. Lucas obliges, grinning.

"You take care of your mom, okay?"

"All right." The both of them leave, Dean smiles and gives me a peck on the lips, then goes around the car.

"Sam, move your ass. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."

"Yeah yeah ok." Sam chuckled as we all got in, continuing with our adventure.

The New Hunter Masterlist

@samsgirl93 @nani-gram @eliwinchester99

#dean supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester imagines #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean x y/n #sam winchester smut #sam x you #supernatural

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zombiiesque · 3 years

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Nocturne Alchemy Seth's Dinosaur Collection - PART ONE

Originally published on 6/27/2017

Hello, everyone! I've been wanting to write some reviews for a while now, but we moved, and then I promptly came down with a really bad case of bronchitis, that did not seem to want to go away. I ended up with two different antibiotics and almost went to the hospital at one point, but it's mostly dissipated finally. Well, then I had to put my house together and get everything situated here, and I'm sure anyone that has moved understands how much effort that takes. I haven't moved in over four years, and I felt really bad about not getting my house organized! And here I am, going on and on. Anyway, I had intentions of reviewing Seth's Dinosaur Collection for quite a while, but I think it's particularly relevant now. Nocturne Alchemy is reopening in 4 days, on June 30th! *squeeing and flailing* I'm so excited to see the site redesign. Also, they've been working on new label art, and from what I understand, they'll be adding new scents to the various Permanent Collections. So much fun. I'm sure it's going to be beautiful. If you'd like to keep up with them in the meantime, they have been posting fun things on their Facebook Business page, including a sneak peek video of the new logo, which is absolutely elegant.

Well, I started this last night, and ended up having things to do that needed my immediate intention - so I had to put it down and come back to it in the morning! It seems like that's the way things have been going lately, so now this review is even more timely. Before I delve into it, I want to make mention that I had an email conversation with the NA crew, because I wanted to address some of the rumors I'd seen going around since they'd been closed. I saw that folks were concerned that they wouldn't be reopening, because they've been gone so long, and I also saw that many were worried that the catalogue as it was known might not be returning, so I wrote to see if they'd give me something to share with people - and they did! Such lovely, kindhearted people, and that is the reason I am such a huge "fangirl". I mean, don't get me wrong - they make the most exquisite perfume oils, and of course that drew me in, but once I began to see how much heart they pour into their company, and how much they care about their customers, that really made me fall head over heels. Honestly, in the world of indie perfumes, NA is a pretty good sized company. They've been making perfumes for 10 years now - actually, as it's June, they're into their 11th year, and they have a pretty extensive catalogue! So in their own words, I'll use a direct quote here from Nocturne Alchemy.

NA will return June 30th. We asked our customers last year what they thought of the old NA site. Constructive criticism concluded that it was dated. The truth is, we knew this and had been looking for the right host site for the past two years. We knew it would take time to migrate and create a new site but we'd have to be 100% involved and the focus of a new site would mean we'd have to shut down the old site. In the process, we decided to recreate the art for the labels of the Permanent Collection (we call it the PC because we view perfume as you would at an art gallery, where there is a Permanent Collection and a Limited Collection or the temporary exhibit if you will). In the past six months we've taken some much needed time off after a decade of perfume making, perfume soul-searching, travel for more unique perfume, and also back in the Studio for months now working on new PC, new art for new labels and a new look for NA. It took two years prior to opening NA in 2006 creating a small collection of PC and Limited perfumes, designing labels, the site...the fact that we can do this in six months, means we are at the top of our game. We know what we want to create but you can't rush art. NA will return June 30th. Find us on Facebook to stay up with current information. The PC and Studio Limited will return, as well as the beloved VApothecary line that has been rebranded under Nocturne Alchemy to facilitate cohesiveness at the new site.

So, there you have it! In addition to completely redesigning the site from the ground up, including a different type of "shopping cart", they've been working on all kinds of wonderful things. I am not sure I will even know where to start on Friday! I'm certainly looking forward to digging through the new site - bad pun intended? And now, I have to apologize. As I said, I'd meant to get this posted a few weeks ago, but life sort of threw me under the bus, and I just couldn't give it the proper time it deserved, as the Dinosaur collection, and the eNVie review, both deserve a bit more depth than just reviewing a single perfume. I'll be working on the latter today, to get it posted up hopefully by tomorrow.

So, roughly two summers ago, Nocturne Alchemy released the original Dinosaur collection, which was Seth's baby, as his other passion, from his early childhood, was dinosaurs, and he wanted to do a collection with that theme. I must tell you, it's been one of my very favorite collections, and I'm only missing a few of them. Last summer, they released a Resurgence, and added some new perfumes to the collection. It's alternatively been called the Prehistoric collection, but the name "Seth's Dinosaurs" has kind of become the popular name among the fans, and often gets shortened to "the Dinos". A little note about this collection: "These dinosaur perfumes are created with the beauty of resin in mind for each of them. The concept to this perfume, the label and the respect of the dinosaur is built on imagination. If you look at the label, there is an egg to the left. It is the same color as the Dinosaur. Apply the perfume on wrist and inner elbow and allow the scent to bind with your chemistry. Once this has occurred, inhale. This conceptually, is the egg. To allow the dinosaur to hatch, we wanted you to go to your Studio Limited Library and pull as many as you want, especially your favorites. The magic in layering the dino's with your Studio Limited Library will give your library a new NAVAlchemy aspect of layering and creating your own personal Dino scent. The fun in NAVAlchemy and hatching the dino eggs is all up to you!" - note from Seth. So, I've seen a few comments floating around the internet that say these oils seem to be rather linear, or flat - and I hope that people will read this, because if they don't realize that these were created specifically to be layered, then they'll miss the beauty of these. I do like them on their own, but I find that when they are layered with other perfumes, the beauty and versatility really shines through. I was never adventurous about layering until I was introduced to these beauties, and they really taught me to branch out, because the possibilities are quite endless. What's interesting is that a lot of the SL (Studio Line) is also fantastic for layering, so I'll make some suggestions for these together for you to try. I believe, from the hints that they've been dropping on the Facebook page, that we'll once again be graced with new Dinos this summer. I don't know if it will be happening with the grand reopening, or at some later time in the summer, but it seems that we'll be getting new Dinosaurs to play with! I cannot wait.

So, let's get started! I'll go with the first round of Dinosaurs that I have, and then the second round will be in a separate post. All of the Dinosaurs also make this mention: "*tiny bits of resin may occur in the Dino blends, these will only enrich the blend even more with aging!"

Cryolophosaurus: Resinous Amber Accord, Limestone Amber, Aged Organic Studio created Patchouli, Black Patchouli, SL Crimson and only a drop of fine aged Egyptian White peppercorn eo. So, this was my first love of the Dinosaurs. I was pretty new to NAVA at the time the first collection came out, so I was still trying everything via decants before I sprung for full bottles, because I hadn't learned what worked on me and what didn't yet. I think I ordered decants of everything but Spinosaurus, because I had learned at that point that black honey and I don't get on. Still salty about that! Anyway. The decants arrived, and I tried them all out - and fell madly in love with Cryolophosaurus, and promptly ordered a full bottle. It's....what are words! I feel as though I'm going to be repeating myself here with this collection, but I'll do my best for y'all. The patchoulis in this blend are bright and sort of herbal, almost minty? I don't know if that's a proper patchouli trait, but as a bit of a hippie, I've been a lifelong fan of patchouli (thanks, mom!) and was exposed to the dark and dirty hippie type patchouli early on in life. This was the first time I was exposed to patchouli as a more herbal note, and I was absolutely blown away. I often find NAVA ambers to have a "fresh" sort of quality, and the two ambers used in the Dinosaur collection definitely seem to have that, so it keeps any of these blends from being overly dark. There's definitely a depth and a sort of stoney feel to each one of these, but as I've mentioned, that seems to come out more once you layer them with another perfume, and Cryolophosaurus is no exception. I can wear this happily alone, it's quite different than say Hessonite, which can be a little overwhelming if you're new to patchouli, the ambers lift this up and seem to give the patchoulis a different nuance. You don't get the red musk (Crimson) or pepper aspect very much until you wear this one layered, but those aspects come out and shine once you pair this with another oil. Also, this oil is red! As I've had my bottle for 2 years, there's definitely some resinous bits forming now, but I couldn't seem to capture a picture of it.

I could rave and rave about this one. Goals: If they bring this back as a Resurrection again this year, GET A BACKUP BOTTLE. Hah!

TL;DR A fresh, sort of bright, herbal patchouli. The nuances of the ambers, red musk, and pepper come out to play when you layer this, but you probably won't notice them while wearing it solo.

Layering suggestions: Try this with Kashmir, Crystalline, Amethyst, Santalum, Crystal, White Ambre Ombre. If you have Labyrinth Oudh, this pairs beautifully with that. If you are a patchouli fiend, you might try hatching it with Patchouli Ombre or Hessonite. I like it with Sekhmet Amber and Black Raven, also.

Diplodocus: Resinous Amber Accord, Limestone Amber, a drop of Cacao, Boswellia carterii Frankincense from United Arab Emirates and a drop of steam distilled Oman Frankincense tears we picked from the actual Frankincense tree.

Believe it or not, although I tried all of my decants the summer that the Dinosaur Collection came out, I did not really pursue full bottles of any except Cryolophosaurus. When I heard that the collection was to be resurrected last summer, I decided I needed to try my decants again, and came to the conclusion that I would have to acquire full sizes of all the originals that I had decants of - oh boy! And then there were new ones joining them. I was in trouble. So, I was trying to decide which of these I absolutely had to have, and at first, I had decided since I had Holiday Egyptian Frankincense, I probably didn't need Diplodocus. Well, I fell pretty hard for HEF last summer and found myself layering it with everything, and before I knew it, I had gone through a half a bottle. Panic set in, and I decided I was probably going to need an alternative frankincense, as it was a note I was falling more and more in love with. Diplodocus became a must have, and I am glad I was able to sneak it in my last order before the collection came down. As a stand alone perfume, this is pretty much a linear frankincense - albeit a lovely one. Beautifully woody, you could wear this alone if you were in the mood to wear a sort of single note frankincense, but this lends a wonderful aspect with so many perfumes, I prefer to layer it. Once I layer it with another perfume, the bright, resinous, stony amber comes out to play with the woodiness of the frankincense, and it's heavenly. The cacao is not a starring note, I can find it with my nose only if I keep sniffing, but it plays a lovely supporting role.

TL;DR A perfect frankincense layering note, it does well with adding a sort of grounding to perfumes that might ordinarily be too bright or feminine for my particular tastes, and is lovely paired with the SLs as well to create a duality.

Layering suggestions: Kobalt Dark, Santal Ombre, Egyptian Musk, Crystal, Diamond, or even to add a tad more frankincense to Ember. I've also paired this and love it with Gabriel, Eternal Egypt, and Ozymandias. I love it with several LC perfumes as well; Black Velvet, Black Crystalline Black Fig, Vamp, Anticipation, Blue Lotus, Snow Amber.

Pteranodon: Resinous Amber Accord, Limestone Amber, a drop of Cacao, Pure Sandalwood left to age in the perfume, Santalum Gold, Santalum and a drop of Blue Santalum.

GODS. Gods. This was the one that made me sit up and take notice, why had I missed out on ordering a full bottle, and I need to rectify this immediately! All of the Dinosaurs are fantastic, versatile little workhorses when playing with layering, but Pteranodon became a quick favorite of mine, and dare I say? Yes, I dare, it became my favorite sandalwood thus far. Don't get me wrong, you'll be prying my gloriously aged bottle of SL Santalum out of my cold, dead hands, I absolutely adore Santalum White, especially when spring and summer roll around, but really I can see using it all year...but this, this is special. Samantha tells me that's because it has the most precious of precious, Santalum Gold. Since she sent me a little sample of her precious bottle, I can understand the obsession - there's something pretty amazing about Santalum Gold. It's a little more woody and resinous, more fully sandalwood than the new version Santalum. I love mine, don't get me wrong, but I can see why Santalum Gold is so popular that if one pops up in the secondary market, it is gone within minutes. Ah well, one day I will be quick enough! Until then - Pteranodon. Yes, I can and have worn this alone, and I absolutely adore it. I like it in my hair, it's one of my favorite layering components when I pair it with something and add a few drops of unscented hair oil and run my fingers through my hair. Hnnnnggg. It's hauntingly familiar, it reminds me of when I lived briefly in Minneapolis in the early nineties and I hung out in the head shops and the kitschy little knicknack shops of uptown and the fantastic thrift stores....ahhhh the nineties, it brings me a feeling of nostalgia, for that's when I discovered how glorious sandalwood was. Oddly enough, my mother is a darker creature, and I don't remember her wearing sandalwood during her hippie days, mostly patchouli and musk and especially dragon's blood. She was missing out, I tell you. This. This really evokes some strong emotions in me. So, once layered, again the ambers come out to play, and the cacao is there as a supporting note, but the star is the variety of sandalwoods. You really get a sense of the four once this is layered. I don't know what to say other than IF THIS COMES BACK AND YOU DON'T HAVE IT YOU'D BETTER GET ONE. I'll be picking up a backup. I might not be able to get my hands on Santalum Gold, but this will do.

TL;DR HNNNGGGG GORGEOUS INCREDIBLE SANDALWOOD.

Layering suggestions: Gods, it goes with everything. Seriously. One of my favorite things is to hatch this with a combination of Diamond, Crystalline, and Tibetan Crystalline. Alternately, I'll do Bloodstone, Egyptian Musk, and this (maybe some Amethyst too). It's fantastic with Ember Vanilla or from the LC, Phantasm Kiss. I love it with Egyptian Temple Oudh. Umm, Eternal Egypt, Bastet Amber, Raphael, Black Raven. Ambre Ombre, or even Santal Ombre. I love it with the OPs, Baba, Tawaret, Pakhet, Hathor. I've got a smidgen of my sample of Egyptian Peach Blossom left and it's lovely with that. Polichenelle. Cecilia, Adele, Music, Snow Amber, Patchouli Ombre. There hasn't been a layering combination with this one I haven't loved, so be adventurous. If a perfume seems a bit too sweet or floral, this makes a nice "grounding" effect. Just do yourself a favor and nab this if it comes back!

Tyrannosaurus: Resinous Amber Accord, Limestone Amber, a drop of Cacao, Dracaena Draco of Morocco (Dragon's Blood resin) and Sangre de Grado Dragon's Blood.

One of the things I don't think I've talked about a lot is exactly how much I love NAVA's dragon's blood. I seem to like dark, red, resinous things quite a bit, I mean, Kashmir is practically my signature, followed closely by Bloodstone. So, what is their dragon's blood like? It's that perfect mixture of spicy and fruity. It's so, so well balanced. I don't really like it when a db note veers too much into either territory, leaving the other territory well behind. I want that combination, just a little spicy, just a little fruity, almost delicious. This is another workhorse. Alone, it's a beautifully resinous, juicy dragon's blood with a little kick of spice. It might be too dark alone if you're not into db, but layer this big boy - did Seth name this one well or WHAT? Layer Tyrannosaurus, and it becomes bright and lifted with the amber, and it's possibly even more beautiful than Bloodstone. Wait, what? Blasphemy. Okay, maybe not my bottle of aged, thick, glorious Bloodstone, but it's pretty amazing. Worn alone, T-Rex is a hint of the amber, and the two dragon's bloods. Layered, and he comes into his full glory, the amber comes out to really play, and that lovely supporting cacao becoes just a little bit evident, to give it a little more depth.

TL;DR: T-Rex is a big boy, and this perfume more than lives up to its name. I find it apropos that his scent is dragon's blood. Layered, he is just the right amount of resinous, spicy, juicy dragon's blood and glorious, fresh stony amber. Mmmm. Mm. It makes me hum with happiness.

Layering suggestions: Ember Vanilla, Ambre Ombre, Patchouli Ombre, Santalum, Ember, Black Raven, Mists of Arcacia, OP Anubis, OP Pakhet. From the LC, try it with Phantasm Kiss, Blood Moon, Egyptian Temple Oudh, Copal Oudh, or Pandora.

Utahraptor: Resinous Amber Accord, Limestone Amber, hungry chomps of Kashmir and Black Musk Absolutes, Egyptian Musk and a drop of Crimson and Sri Lankan Black Peppercorn eo.

Oh, Utahraptor. I've listed this last, but not because I love it least. In fact, I adore it, and it's quite versatile - different layering options bring out different facets of this one. I'm sure I've made mention of the fact that I really, really love NAVA musks. Kashmir is probably one of my favorite perfumes. So naturally, I had to have this. Worn alone, this comes across as mostly Kashmir, with a breath of Black Musk underneath, and the amber lifts it up - it might seem like a heavy blend, but it's saved from that by the beautifully clean Egyptian Musk and ambers. Start playing with layering, and while Kashmir, a bold red musk, remains the star, Black Musk and Egyptian Musk come out to play a bit more vocally, and I love that little kick of spiciness in the background of peppercorn. I'm a big fan of pepper in perfumes - Music is a great example of this, I feel, and it's kind of a surprising note, I think that many people would envision it from a cooking spice standpoint, but it's a bit different when added as a component of perfume. It adds a little kick, and it's quite fun. If you've never had the experience, I highly recommend giving it a chance. Anyway, enough about pepper, it's a supporting note here, and gives this "egg" a bit of pizzazz when you hatch it with another perfume.

TL;DR: Kashmir, a bold red musk, is the star here but plays beautifully with the other two musks, Black and Egyptian, when layered. Don't be afraid of the pepper. Despite the musk heavy blend, it's not nearly as heavy as you might think, the ambers lift and brighten this perfectly, and it's quite fun with a variety of different types.

Layering suggestions: Crystalline, Tibetan Crystalline, Santalum White, Egyptian Musk, Ozymandias, Pharaoh Anniversary, OP Baba, OP Set. For LC options, I absolutely am nuts over hatching this with California Redwood Crystal Musk. Also, Underlord Akhenaten, Pyewacket Cat, Pumpkin #2, Copal Oudh, Enigma, and it's amazing with the Byzantium Amber from their 9th Anniversary perfumes.

Okay, whew! That was pretty extensive, I am sorry for the wall of text, but I do hope you'll find my "hatching" suggestions helpful. This really did provide me with the courage to really branch out and become a layering fiend, and now I will layer various perfumes in with my unscented hair oils too, and I get a lot of compliments about how amazing my hair smells. Tomorrow, I'll get the second half of this posted for you, with last year's additions. From the first year, I do not have Spinosaurus, Stegasaurus, or Styracosaurus. Feel free to offer up your own layering combinations with these amazing perfumes! I want to mention one more thing in closing, these are another collection that do even better with age, they become richer and seem to come into their own even more. Have a wonderful evening!

Editing to add a note, and a link to part two! I forgot to mention previously, is that these are lovely when you pair them together! And I've done this several times with different combinations. Pteranodon with Protoceratops or Deinonychus, Velociraptor with Utahraptor, Diplodocus with Giganotosaurus, Protoceratops with almost anything! Hah.

Another thing to mention, if you have eNVie Saphir, many of these are stunning when hatched with Saphir. Definitely worth experimenting with - I have Saphir, Ambre Saphir, and Encens Saphir, and they all do well with the Dinosaurs.

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