Confessions to My Past

He watched the house for a long, long time. He was in no hurry; nobody suspected his presence, and even if anybody did, they’d stand no chance against him. He was at the height of his power.
Thirst for revenge was burning hot in his throat.
She had ruined everything, so she had to pay.
He couldn’t just let her go. Why should she get her happy end when she had destroyed his? He was about to rule the world, to get everything he had ever wanted – and then that bitch thought it to be her duty to sacrifice herself and derail the apocalypse that he and many others had worked for so hard.
And she honestly thought she could escape, leave everything behind her. Have Winchester’s babies, bake cupcakes, live a normal life.
‘Oh, Lilian, Lilian… when will you learn that there are things you can’t leave behind, and that if you try, they’ll get you killed?’ He shook his head, an amused smile playing around his lips.
His feet made no sound as they brushed over the un-mowed lawn. No lights were on in the other houses; nobody would see him.
He heard the television being turned off – maybe that girl was smarter than he had thought, after all.
Either way, it wouldn’t make a difference: there’d be no escape for the Winchester whore.

******

Some things, you learn about hunting and don’t forget. Other things you learn and forget. Yet other things become deep-seated instincts.
Such as to always follow your gut (even if your guts did all kind of somersaults lately).
Mine was telling me right now that something wasn’t right.
I switched off the TV (which was really a bad idea, as it meant that if someone was out there, he’d hear my steps, better, too. Or he’d think I’d go to bed and that this was the best time to strike.). Maybe I was just getting paranoid.
Who would be interested in hurting me, now with all my powers gone and me retreated from the hunters’ business? Hell, nobody would even know I was still alive.
Noiselessly I pulled open one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a gun, an exact reproduction of the Colt with the same demon-and-other-evil-killing bullets. It had cost Bobby and me weeks making it work – but it had been worth it.
I couldn’t move as agile with my baby bump as I wanted to; but close to.
I had drawn a Devil’s Trap underneath the carpet in front of the door, and had specially made baseboards filled with rock salt around the whole inside of the house; no demon or ghost was getting in here. For everything else, I had the Colt.
I reached to unlock the door and make sure there was nothing out there when I noticed: The door was already unlocked. I barely stifled a scream.
I didn’t have time to lock it again. It flew open that exact second.
“Hello, princess. It’s been a while.”

*****

Dean felt more nervous with every second he wasn’t home already. He couldn’t explain why he felt that way; a lifetime of hunting had just taught him certain instincts. Right now, his guts told him to get home – never in his life had he ever really been able to use that word properly – immediately.
“Dean, I’m sure everything’s okay.” Sam said, not very convincingly, as he had learned to trust Dean’s instincts and was becoming increasingly nervous himself.
Josie was vulnerable. Extremely vulnerable. Unprotected, pregnant, weak – no Nephilim powers to defend her.
Lots of monsters out there wanting to get payback on Dean. Whatever way.

*****

“Let’s get inside, sweetheart. And put that gun away, will you? We don’t want to wake the neighbours.”
I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t even protest as he pushed me back inside and took the useless Colt from my hands.
“Nice place.”
I finally found my voice again. “Alejandro. What do you want?”
“What, old friends can’t even drop by to chat?”
I just wanted to run and hide behind Dean. I was scared to death. For myself and for my baby.
“Well, princess, I gotta say, you look terrific. Despite you carrying Winchester’s bastard.” Alejandro’s dark eyes glinted with malicious joy and the knowledge of being superior. He cupped my face fiercely and forced his lips onto mine.
I pushed him away, or rather, tried to.
“Still so prudish? I hope for Winchester’s sake you’re more willing in his bed.” He looked at my curving belly. “But then I guess, you’re doing just fine on that account.”
His provocations just bounced right off of me, I didn’t care what he said – I just wanted him gone. Or better, dead.
“As pleasant as it is talking to you, I’ve got business to take care of.”
My whole body tensed and I nearly threw up. My eyes were wildly scanning the place for escape possibilities; but I already knew there were none. There was no way a human could escape a Nephilim, I knew that better than anyone.
“You’ve pushed Lucifer nicely back into his cage, I admit – but he’s not dead. He’ll rise again, if certain bloodlines are never joined. If certain people aren’t born to keep him locked down there. Those being mainly the descendants of the Winchester line… and yours.”
He grabbed the back of my neck. “You picked the wrong guy to knock you up.”
I remembered just in time that Nephilim might be invulnerable; but they still felt pain. I brought up my knee to Alejandro’s groin with enough force to make him tumble over. I ignored the searing pain in my body and darted into the kitchen and locked the door behind me. Knowing it wouldn’t stop him for long.
My heart pounded vigorously against my chest, I felt sobs of fear catching in my throat. I cowered against the locked door, feeling too weak to stand. Through the haze of panic, my mind still functioned. There was only way to kill a Nephilim: With one of the Two Blades of the Guards. One was in the Impala’s trunk and the other… in the living room. Locked in with the Nephilim I needed to kill.
“You know, Lilian, or however you call yourself these days, from someone who used to be a Nephilim herself, I expected a little more.”
I picked myself up from the floor and pulled out a sharp kitchen knife. A Nephilim could heal from every wound not inflicted by one of said blades or another Nephilim’s power – but to heal, he’d have to pull the knife out of his heart first. It would earn me some seconds at least, and was the only option I had left, really.
When I heard him right in front of the door, I unlocked and opened it in one fleeting movement, plunging the weapon right into his chest. I darted past Alejandro towards the cupboard where the blade was kept.
I had just gotten it out when Alejandro already whirled me around and slammed my body against the wall. “That actually hurt, princess.”
He wrenched the blade from my hand and closed a hand around my throat, though not applying pressure – yet. I found it horrifying enough; I had always had hated having other people coming near my throat, even before I had several monsters throttling me.
He pressed his body close to mine, his free hand roaming all over me and making me feel sick to my every bone. “I really wish you had chosen differently then.”
I struggled against his grip, completely in vain. I wanted to cry from despair. I have never experienced being physically inferior to anyone… at least, it had never mattered if I had been. Dean or Sam were both equally able of killing me with just one motion, but I had never even felt threatened by them – when I had confronted Heath, I had my Nephilim powers to fight with. Now I had nothing.
I pushed against Alejandro’s chest, desperately trying to get him away from me – needless to say, that was about as effective as extinguishing a wildfire with one bottle of water.
“Don’t…Not my baby…”
“I’m afraid your kid’s the main reason I’m here, princess.” Alejandro tightened his grip on my throat, making everything turn black before my eyes. “We can’t have the Winchester bloodline carried on.”