gavemea_45 | [AU] two worlds, a lot of demons, and a new set of problems

It's still hard to believe it's over; that the yellow-eyed demonic bastard they'd spent their whole lives hunting is finally dead.

Sam figures it'll sink in eventually. Given everything else -- right now he's still pretty numb.

He's also desperately tired, but that doesn't matter. There's something he needs to do, and he can't afford to delay.

He waits until they've settled in for the night, and then waits still longer. Once Dean's been asleep for half an hour, Sam picks up his messenger bag -- already stuffed with books and his computer -- and heads straight for the bar.

He orders black coffee and snags a table with a good view of both doors and the stairs, then pulls out the first of the old texts and starts to search through it.

There's work to do.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

gavemea_45

"Yeah, you mentioned that. Where's this triangle of yours?" A thought strikes him. "And just to make it clear, I'm not a damn revenant, either." Resurrection notwithstanding. "They're more like zombies, you know."

From:

pacificator

"'More like zombies, you know,'" she mocks, then drops the tone. "No, they're not. Mine aren't. They look and act like humans. Mostly," she amends, thinking of their burning red eyes, the way their demonic nature can appear out of nowhere. "And it's in Alberta. With a little bit in Montana."

There's the faint edge of a smirk to her lips. "Just the tip."

From:

gavemea_45

"Mostly. That's the point. Why, don't your zombies do that too?"

Canada'd at least explain why he hasn't heard of it, but that doesn't make sense. Sam stares at her. "What the - Earp wasn't Canadian."

From:

pacificator

She has two choices here: admit she hasn't seen any zombies yet – no – or bluster her way through it.

Scratch that: three choices. She can just ignore it. "No, but he didn't combust when he crossed a border, either," she points out. "He came to Purgatory for a while. Put down some roots."

And a whole lot of bad people.

From:

gavemea_45

Sam grimaces. "Quite the name. Guess he got a taste for places like that, after Tombstone."

From:

pacificator

"Wyatt Earp had a flair for the dramatic, who knew?" A thought strikes her, and her eyes narrow. "Hey. Don't think I've forgotten about that whole 'marked' thing."

She had. But he doesn't need to know that. "So if you're not a demon and you're not a revenant, what's your deal?"

From:

gavemea_45

"I'm a hunter, that's what." Sam reaches for his coffee and takes a large swallow, then grimaces at it.

"What's your name, Earp?"

From:

pacificator

Well, apparently this is happening. She sticks Peacemaker back into her boot, then sighs as she turns back to the bar to retrieve bottle and both tumblers.

She sets the glasses down on his papers with a smack of finality, then kicks out a chair to take a seat before she starts pouring.

He didn't ask her to sit down, but one so rarely gets what one asks for, anyway, right? "Wynonna."

From:

gavemea_45

Sam's eyebrows hit his hairline, but he sets his coffee aside and reaches for his glass when it's ready. Maybe it's like an apology. Sort of. If he squints.

"Family name?" Dryly. "Or country music fans?"

From:

pacificator

She gives him an exasperated look over her own glass. "Are you always this funny, or just when you're trying and failing to be charming?"

Wynonna snorts. "At least I wasn't saddled with 'Winchester.' Little on the nose, don't you think?"

From:

gavemea_45

"I tend to save the charm for people who don't aim guns at me." He shrugs. "Heck of a statement from a girl whose last name is Earp."

From:

pacificator

"Hey, in my defense, I've never seen Peacemaker react that way to someone good."

She takes a large swallow of the whiskey and tops off her glass again. "You're just jealous because there's no way to dine out on the same name as a gun."

From:

gavemea_45

"Well, now you have." It burns like acid, makes him sick with self-loathing, but that's nothing new. He lifts the glass and downs half of it.

From:

pacificator

She watches the way he downs that drink, her fingers tapping on her own glass. "Hit a nerve there, Sam?"

Marked. What the hell does that mean? "You say you're a hunter. Are you with Black Badge?"

From:

gavemea_45

Sam lowers the tumbler and stares at her like she's lost her mind. "What's Black Badge?"

From:

pacificator

Uh. "It's..."

Shit. What would Dolls say? "... Classified."

She takes another swig of her whiskey and glances away, mind whirring. "So you're, what, freelance? Running around hunting demons for funsies?"

From:

gavemea_45

Sam snorts at that. "Classified. Right. Like if hunters had an X-Files division. Sure."

He shakes his head and finishes off his drink, then reaches for the bottle without asking. "All hunters are freelance. And I wouldn't call it fun. It just needs doing. Someone's got to stand between civilians and what's out there."

From:

pacificator

"Not all."

She says it low and into her glass, then gives him an exasperated glance and tugs the bottle away once he's finished pouring, so she can top off her own drink. "Then I guess we're on the same side."

She sounds annoyed about it.

From:

gavemea_45

Sam eyes her skeptically. "Is this a Canadian thing?"

If so, it's even more annoying than not being able to get health care without committing fraud whenever they turn around.

"Good for us. Wanna tell me more about this Heir business, then?"

From:

pacificator

"North American," she mutters. "Joint Canada and U.S. division."

Dolls is going to kill her. She purses her lips and considers him, then narrows her eyes. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she says, blunt. "Tell me what you mean by 'marked.'"

From:

gavemea_45

It's not like it's a secret, not anymore, not with what they'd heard from Isaac and Tamara, but he's still reluctant to admit it.

"A demon took an interest in me," he says, short. "Along with some other people. It did some stuff, then kidnapped us into an abandoned, haunted town."

If he never sees Cold Oak again, it'll be too soon. "Not a fun time."

From:

pacificator

She cocks her head to the side, frowning. "Really."

Abandoned, haunted towns being her jam aside. "What's so interesting about you?"

From:

gavemea_45

Sam looks right back at her.

"You first. What's this Heir thing?"

From:

pacificator

Well, it was worth a shot. She prevaricates for a second, focusing on her whiskey, then presses her lips together and looks back at him.

"It's a curse," she says, blunt. "The seventy-seven outlaws killed by Wyatt Earp resurrect as revenants and try to end the Earp line. The oldest Earp child becomes the Heir when they turn 27. When an Heir dies, the curse moves to their oldest child. And so on, forever."

It should have been Willa. It was never supposed to be her. "The revenants will keep resurrecting and the curse will keep going until an Heir sends all seventy-seven back to Hell with Peacemaker."