Highway to Hell (Dean)

[Shelby Stone]

Since the world had gone to Hell in a handbasket it really hadn't been a lot of change for Shelby. People were still assholes. Water was still wet. And, she was still a freak of nature. The only bonus was not having to fear tabloids or cops. She was finally free in a way she'd never been before. Sure she'd partied with demons, hung out with werewolves (prior to them changing into mindless beasts of course), and dealt with witches on an even playing field. Sure there were the Croats but usually... well she didn't worry about them too much. A few fireballs usually stopped them in their tracks. The key was to not let them get close enough.

And that usually worked out for her, that strategy. But this time was a little different. She'd stopped at the gas station to refuel the car she'd picked up back on the road. A little hot wiring and she'd had a helluva sweet ride. She had seen the first few creeping out of the woodwork like parasites sniffing for a meal and roasted them like marshmallows. But then there were more and more, she couldn't keep up with the numbers, couldn't throw enough fireballs fast enough to keep them at bay.

Fear had crept up on her and her emotions began to rise. Unfortunately so did her temperature. Literally. At first it had been thermal drifts that had made her shimmer, her hair drifting around her on the heated waves that rolled off her skin. But as they kept coming and she started losing the fight to their sheer numbers her skin started to flame, burning those that touched her. But they didn't stop as she punched and kicked and fought them off. Soon she was entirely surrounded.

She was close to the pumps when it happened, the hose that had been filling her tank had been knocked out onto the ground and leaked across the parking lot. She screamed out in fear and anger and her entire body erupted into flame, her skin becoming a living flame, her hair flaring around her like a crimson halo, eyes blazing with molten heat. It happened fast, the heat of her body throwing the Croats back and incinerating them as they flew backwards and the gasoline ignited, traveling back into the pumps and the explosion roared around her, shooting flames for almost a mile into the sky and rocking the ground for miles around.

Inside the ball of flame that shot into the sky was a female figure, shimmering and standing with arms outstretched, head thrown back.

Shelby fought the power, loving it, relishing it, feeling like a God! Or Goddess as the case may be. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. She felt alive in a way she'd never felt before, feeding the flames, making them shoot high in the sky, listening to their wild, untamed song. She wanted them, to be a part of them, calling them back into her body and the flames in the night sky slowly died. But it took it's toll on her, the energy used to take that elemental form.

As the last of the fire was tamped down and dissipated, leaving smoldering heaps around her and small pockets of fire in the wreckage she collapsed to the ground, untouched, unharmed. The same couldn't be said for her clothes. The garments didn't stand a chance in the heat that was like that of a volcano. Her bare, unconscious form was left on the ground where the gas station and her car once stood.

The Croats?

They were reduced to charred forms and ash here and there around the area, littering the roadway and the remains of the parking lot as headlights crested the hill and splashed over them.

[Dean Winchester]

Well Dean Winchester was having one hell of a time. Quite literally. For what seemed like forever Dean and his brother Sam had been fighting croats, vampires, werewolves and what ever else came against them as the world was getting sucked into the toilet, fast. They did not know what caused all this crap, they thought that Lucifer was still in the cage and Sam sure as hell did not have him using his meat suite. It was looking more and more like the version of future that Dean was pulled into by the ass hat Zachariah, including the existence of Camp Munin Dochas.

Dean naturally wanted to head there, but knowing that will be the focal point of any attack and the hub of the resistance, he wanted Lisa and Ben safe first. Fortunately they had an old friend that helped them out in that regard: One Bobby Singer, who happened to have a lot of contacts. He managed to get them to a safe house, while the boys did what they could to get to and help the resistance. Then there was the stand off…both Sam and Dean were surrounded by croats. At the expense of a lot of fire power, they managed to fight them off, but what they hadn’t planned on was the second wave of attack that they could not fight off. As experienced hunters as they were, they simply would not survive fighting that many croats without ammunition. They had knives and other such stabbing weapons, but the shear weight of numbers would have been just too much. What was worse was that they became separated, with Sam having to bust into another car, as he could not reach the impala. At the time it did not seem that bad, they both had the same destination in mind after all. But here Dean was, a whole two days later and there was no sign of his brother. Driving into a small town, he found a gun shop. It had already been raided, but Dean didn’t know by whom. If it was normal people, or anyone unfamiliar with them, there was a chance there was some more goodies there to be found in a secret room out back, where the real stuff was held.

Of course, chances were someone with the knowledge would have already raided it, but it seemed that Dean did not have much choice, with the seriously low amount of ammunition he had. Parking his car the opposite side of the road, he grabbed his long hunting knife, bag and his pistol, which he noted had five bullets left. Exiting his car carefully, he made his way across the road, not for traffic, but for danger. That danger hit him as he neared the shop as a small group of croats went straight for him. Dean managed to slash the first to the throat, before another knocked him down. Dean stabbed that croat in a place no man should ever be hurt and shot the other two in the head.

That was one group down, but the damn croats were like sand people: they’d be back, and in greater numbers. Dean jumped in through the already smashed window and searched the back counter and wall for a secret trigger mechanism that opened up the back room. Finally he found it and was rewarded with a wealth of weapons and bullets. He stuffed his bag with a few guns and a butt load of ammunition and ran back outside. Croats were now filling the streets, what with a warm blooded human like Dean running around. He’d make a run for it if he could, save his ammunition for another more fruitful battle. There was something however that caught his attention more than the oncoming Croats: an explosion. Black smoke hit the air, as what was un-mistakenly petrol fumes burning.

“Ok what dumb S.O.B blew up a petrol station!” Dean yelled out of frustration as he slashed a couple of Croats, before getting in his car, throwing his goodies into the back seat. Turning on his engine, he hit another two to the floor as he sped off.

“Damn petrol’s about as rare as Cas’s attempts at jokes! What the hell are they thinking?!” Dean grumbled as his eyes drifted to his petrol gauge. The fire had died down by the time he got there, careful to stop a little way away, so that his car would not be in any danger. He sat there for a while, loading his gun before getting out. He felt sure it was demons or some other evil freak that did this, to make life that little more interesting for the normal people, so he had to keep his wits about him. What he found was the last thing he thought he’d see: An attractive and more importantly naked woman, who seemed to be relatively unscathed from the incident. As hot as she was, Dean wondered how the hell she survived that as what remained of her clothes was burning on the floor.

“Hey, Lady! You OK?!” he yelled, keeping his distance, with his gun pointing at her.

[Shelby Stone]

She was barely conscious when she heard the male voice speaking. It was gruff and wary but held a certain amount of control to it. As she lifted her head, her vision swam, bright spots in it and dark spots hazing in and out of focus in those glittering blue-green eyes. She tried to see him but could only make out the outline of the man. He was holding something. Her mind told her it was likely a gun but she couldn't move.

Her body felt like cement, every tiny movement spending rapidly the energy that was spent using her power like that. She felt the tiny fires all around her singing to her, their energy in her blood, keeping her awake enough and conscious for the moment. She had to get up, to stand, to fight if need be. She knew he wasn't a Croat, they typically didn't bother with talking these days. The further along they got in the infection the more like brainless, hungry zombies they became. But it didn't mean he was a good guy either. She'd ran into plenty of humans that were just plain rotten along the way.

Of course, she'd never been weak and vulnerable either the way she was now.

Pushing herself to her feet with slow determination she took stood there swaying, her eyes half lidded as she looked at the shadowy figure of the man. "Don't...don't you come any closer.", her Texan drawl whispered out harshly, the voice hoarse but the tones smooth as butter. "I may be weak but I'll still.." She swayed dangerously, looking about to drop and it stalled her little speech with all it's bravado. But only briefly. "I'll still put you down faster'n you can think about pullin' that trigger."

She took two steps toward the man, looking about as dangerous as a drowned kitten, before her legs gave out under her and she hit the pavement hard, her knees getting scraped and blood in the fall and sheer force of will alone keeping her from falling the rest of the way over. She tried to stand a few more times and each time she fell back down, her limbs and muscles spent, unable to provide the energy she needed for the simple task.

She raised one finger as she tried to say something, pointing in his general direction before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she face planted on the pavement, totally unconscious. The power had been too much for her, burned too hot too long and drained her. She simply wasn't experienced enough with using her fire manipulation powers like that. Hell, she hadn't even known she could do that till tonight and it had been a survival response that triggered it, not anything she'd consciously done.

Naked, vulnerable, and unconscious she lay there a few feet from the Hunter's feet, unmoving.

(Note: Don't worry we can have her come to again. But the power use like that would knock her slick out. Just after your post or if you want, during your post, you can feel free to manipulate time a bit and jump to a few hours from that moment to the next day if you want. I'm flexible.)

[Dean Winchester]

Dean kept his gun trained on the girl as she stirred on the floor. It appeared that she was alive, weak perhaps, but most definitely alive. With the world how it was, he was taking no chances though and a girl who somehow survived a petrol station exploding – hell someone who could even had caused the petrol station to explode – was not the sort of person he could underestimate.

Pushing herself to her feet with slow determination she took stood there swaying, her eyes half lidded as she looked at the shadowy figure of the man. "Don't...don't you come any closer.", her Texan drawl whispered out harshly, the voice hoarse but the tones smooth as butter. "I may be weak but I'll still.." She swayed dangerously, looking about to drop and it stalled her little speech with all it's bravado. But only briefly. "I'll still put you down faster'n you can think about pullin' that trigger."

More than once, Dean felt compelled to go over there and help her up. He was brought up to help the damsel in distress, plus the woman was hot AND naked! But if he ever needed a cold hard dose of reality, her words did the trick. Yes she was week and was obviously not as big a threat that she made out but she was clearly either as distrustful of him as he was of her, or she was an enemy. Or both.

“Cool it, Pyro, believe it or not I’m actually one of the good guys. Whether you are or not is open to debate, but it sure ain’t natural to come out of an explosion without so much as a blemish!” Dean said, turning slightly to check on his car. “And no offence, sweetheart, but no way in hell are you getting in my car if you’re going to go all fire starter again.”

At that point the woman collapsed completely. Cursing under his breath, Dean went closer to check on her, before looking around for any more potential enemies; He can’t have been the only one who was drawn to the explosion after all. One thing was for sure, he could not stay there for long and neither could the girl. Cursing himself once again for being the good guy, he slowly placed his gun in the back of his jeans, took off his coat and covered her the best he could, before picking her up and making his way back to his car.

“You blow us up and I swear me AND my car will haunt your ass!” he mumbled to himself as he attempted to open his car door with the woman in his arms….

[Shelby Stone]

She didn't stir when he approached, no horror movie sudden move of the gotcha variety. No. She was out cold. Vulnerable. Not something that would sit well with her when she awoke but as luck would have it she ended up that way with one of the few Good Guys still roaming the earth. Someone must have been looking out for her.

It wasn't until the next day that she began to stir, coming out of the semi-coma she'd been in since the time she'd passed out. She felt the matress beneath her and the blankets over her. Was that an honest to god pillow under her head. She peeked one eye open and saw the ceiling of the run down, abandoned motel room seeing the water stains on the ceiling. At least she hoped to God those were water stains. Cringing she didn't want to think about it and closed her eyes once more.

Until she heard that soft snoring beside her....

Her eyes opened fast and she turned her head to see the vaguely familiar face of the man beside her, sleeping away. He was on top of the covers, not under them which was odd as it was but he was also completely clothed. Well...she looked down his body and saw the lack of shoes on his feet that hung over the edge of the bed a bit. He was handsome and a bit rugged but how'd she end up here with him? She rubbed her eyes slowly and slid her feet out from under the blankets, letting the sheet slide off her body. It was only then that she realized she was naked and grabbed her pillow, covering up a bit as she looked around the room fast.

It slowly started to come back to her with the loud grumble of her stomach as it protested it's emptiness. The gas station. The Croats. The explosion. How much had the man seen? She saw the gun on the bedside table beside him and tiptoed around the side of the bed, still holding the pillow against the front of her and reached out to try to quietly grab the pearl handled gun without the man waking.

Hopefully.

[Dean Winchester]

The ride was relatively quiet. Not only did the girl he picked up not wake up…or become conscious again, depending on how you looked at it…the streets were empty too. No croats, no noone. It was getting dark, and Dean found that unless he was out on a hunt, it was best to be inside at night, especially with such a vulnerable passenger. Dean was an experienced hunter and could handle most things but there was no way he could protect a currently defenceless girl as well. As much as he liked playing the hero, he also had to be realistic. Dean was only human after all; with most of the creatures he faced being far more powerful than he. He got by with help from his brother and best friend, Sam, his friends, with an added sprinkle of bravado and badass attitude. The fact he was brought back every time he died helped too.

Dean drove around, trying to find the most out of the way and least broken down motel he could, finally settling on an old fashioned motel called the Hyperion. He carried the girl in, and found the least messed up room that was in carrying distance. He placed her carefully in bed, covered her over and sat on the bed next to her to keep watch. Or so he intended, as his eyelids became heavy and the next thing he knew, the gun he was holding was on the bedside cabinet and he was lead right next to her snoring.

The thing about hunters was with the lives they lead, they always slept with one eye open. The slightest bit of movement that they were not familiar with near them and they were instantly awake. Dean was no different, as he snatched the gun from the bedside cabinet, just as the girls hand was about to reach it. He rolled to the other side of the bed and pointed the gun at her.

“Not meaning to be rude, princess, but I saw some freaky stuff back there and I ain’t even sure your friend or foe. So tell me – how the hell did you survive the fire back there without so much as a burn mark?”

OOC: Ok, the Hyperion was blatantly stolen from the TV show ‘Angel’ – so sue me

[Shelby Stone]

Shelby let out a tiny little yelp of surprise as the apparently dead to the world asleep man managed to not only wake up but also managed to grab the gun her hand was almost on and roll to the opposite side of the bed while all she could do at the moment was clutch the pillow to her front side to conceal her nakedness. She looked at him and lifted one crimson eyebrow at him. "If that's the case then I should question who you are and where I am if you're in the habit of laying down to sleep next to someone that you don't know is friend or foe."

She squared her shoulders and found her attitude again, getting over being startled and disoriented. "You lay down with the enemy often do you?" she said with a little hmph. Then it was time to play the odds. Taking her chances she turned her back on the man and walked over to the little bathroom, flashing him with her bare backside. Yes she knew the power of using her own weapons of mass distraction. Men had fallen for such things since the first caveman saw the first cavewoman streaking nude through the cave.

There was no hurry as she walked to the bathroom and then grabbed a towel to wrap around herself before looking at the man in the mirror behind her. How much should she tell him? Could he be trusted? Not with that gun in his hands. Sure any other time she might have been able to fire up hot enough to melt a bullet before it hit her but not right now. Not while she was so drained and weak. She'd have to use other methods to ensure her safety and continued existence.

"You know... being held at gun point isn't exactly the best way to have a conversation. Hell you already took me to bed and not so much as bought me dinner first." A small smile curved her lips as she looked at him through the mirrored glass, a hint of humor in her eyes.

Turning to face him she strolled slowly back into the room proper and sat on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs. "So why don't you put that away and we can talk....unless I scare you." That wicked smile crossed her lips again as she looked over at him, turning on her charms to get him to lower his guard but more importantly, his gun.

[Dean Winchester]

"You lay down with the enemy often do you?"

OK, this was bulls$#&. He rescued her from being unconscious near a burning petrol station near nighttime, when he could have left her to the Croats or whatever else came a long and she was having a go at him for sleeping next to her.

“Let’s get ONE thing straight, Lady!” Dean said, losing his temper a little. “I just saved your ass back there. I could have left you back there to fend for your unconscious self, but no, not only did I take you with me but I attempted to stand guard for the night. OK, the last bit clearly didn’t go well, but you try staying awake after three whole sleepless days!” Three whole sleepless days spent fighting Croats and God knew what else, it wasn’t like he spent the time sitting on his ass. He left that bit out though, still not trusting the person he was talking to.

Dean raised his eyebrows as the girl turned around to show the naked half of her body. His gun wavered, but did not drop as he turned his head to the side slightly, definitely liking what he saw.

“Yeah well, guns, amongst of others are what I use to defend myself. We don’t all have things like flame retardant skin!” he bit back. “And other than not frying my ass, or what ever the hell it is you can do, you’ve yet to convince me that you’re not a threat.” He added.

Her next comment irked him a little. “Scared of you? If that were the case, I would have left you where you were.” Dean said, before slowly lowering his gun, making sure to place it in easy reach, so he could still shoot her down quick as a flash if things went south. “There, feel better?” he asked. Someone had to break the mini stalemate after all. “So what the hell happened back there?”

[Shelby Stone]

Without even realizing she was doing it she let out a small sigh of relief as the gun was lowered, seeming to relax a bit more. Sure she had bravado to spare but clearly the gun made her nervous. She nodded as he asked if she felt better and said quieter, "Much..thank you." However, her eyes rose warily towards him as he asked what happened at the gas station and bit her lip a bit. She had the feeling that with reflexes like that it was a good bet he was either military trained, a hit man, or a hunter. Possibly all three. That didn't bode well for her. Hunters tended to shoot first and ask questions later. If they asked them at all. She'd been on the receiving end of that before, facing a hunter that realized what she was and having had to defend herself. Close minded idiots.

As if being something other than completely normal made her evil! In the world they'd found themselves in her gifts were a boon to those that fought against things like Croats and demons.

Resting her hands back behind her on the bed she leaned her weight against them as she stared at the floor a moment before answering. "I'd stopped to fill up the car. At first there were just one or two of the Croats that came at me. Easy enough to get rid of. But then more came and more and things got out of hand. The next thing I knew there was an explosion and I was near unconscious on the ground. I looked up, saw you with the gun. Figured I was done for. Your kind don't usually take to kindly to anything out of the norm, ya know? So color me surprised to find myself tucked neatly in bed to sleep off the mini-coma and some guy who I last saw pointing a gun at me asleep beside me."

It was all the truth, more or less. It just wasn't the details of the whole truth. She didn't come right out and say that she'd created the fires with her mind or that she'd become a living flame and caused the explosion that way. She wasn't sure she could trust him with that yet, waiting to see his reaction to this and for the questions that she knew would follow. But before he could ask them she piped up once more.

"I know what you're thinking and I can assure you, I'm no demon, or monster. Splash Holy Water on me. Hell.. I'll gargle the ABC's with it if it'll make you feel better. What's some of the other tests? Oh yeah.. Salt?.. love it. Latin?...boring but other than putting me to sleep, no effect. Silver?..one of my favorite metals. And clearly I have a pulse so you know I'm not a vampire. If I were I'd have already ripped out your throat. I'm hungry enough to eat a horse right now, seriously. And while I've been called a Goddess a time or two I'm afraid that was just a title given by an adoring tongue as opposed to hard fact."

[Dean Winchester]

Dean made himself comfortable sitting at the end of the bed, listening to the girls explanation of what happened. There were big ass holes in it. Dean wasn’t as smart as his brother, but even he could spot them.

“And the explosion just happened by itself, huh?” Dean said, raising an eyebrow a little. “Meanwhile all your clothes get burned off, while you survive without so much as the slightest burn mark. What do you put that down to? Exceedingly good luck?….You don’t have a rabbits foot on you, do you?” he said, half joking the last bit.

Dean laughed a little when the girl said she would allow him to subject her to the tests to find out she was a demon, or something else. It impressed him that she knew so much about it, not that he was going to admit that. She was hot and she knew about the supernatural. If it was not the lingering doubt about whether or not she was completely human, she could be the perfect woman besides Lisa.

“Well whose to say I haven’t done that already?” he said. He had in fact done just that, he was not going to sleep in the same room as a demon after all. If he did the test while she was unconscious, it would be that much easier to get the demon out of her, or kill her while she was unconscious.

“No offence intended.” Dean shrugged. “But these are hard times, you can never be too careful. Look, there was a time when I absolutely hated anything of the supernatural. I pretty much saw things in black and white, but I’ve come a long way from then. I have met even Angels that I have became friends with. The truth is, right now the human race needs all the help it can get at the moment, so far be it from me to attack someone just because they are different. It’s whether they are trustworthy people that are on my side that counts. So tell me Shelby, are you going to be honest with me? Because I can handle someone different that is honest with me. That promotes trust.”

[Shelby Stone]

"Touche." the red head said in reply to his remark about having possibly already having done the tests on her and quirked a brow at him. There was a small snort about Angels. Yeah, she'd encountered a few of them too. Not the friendliest of sorts.

With a sigh she stood, pacing a few times between the bed and the the dresser along the wall, chewing on her thumbnail as she weighed her options and risks. Finally stopping she looked up at Dean and dropping her hand. "You kill me after you hear about me and I swear I'll haunt you." she said only half joking, trying to relieve some of the tension she felt pinging through her. She wasn't used to sharing, to trusting.

"I'm...I'm different alright. Always have been. Born that way." She sighed again and ran her hand through her hair, having to move to relieve her nerves. "I'm not a monster. I'm not evil. I'm just a woman that had the dumb ass luck of being born a freak."

She wasn't sure she had it in her or the energy to call the fire but it would be easier to show than to explain. "I sort of...well I have this thing..with fire. I can kinda make it." She couldn't look him in the eye or at his face as she concentrated and from her fingertips a small flickering flame sprouted and as she concentrated more the flame grew higher and higher till it was about a foot tall from her fingertips. As she sustained it, with great effort she spoke, sweat breaking out on her forehead and the strain of it with her energy so depleted after the meltdown the day before showing in her eyes.

"My Nona said it was a long family thing. Passed down through generation. Elemental witch. She said I was born with the mark of the Firebringer. "

Looking pale and about to drop at any second she let the power go and the fire disappeared immediately. She swayed on her feet, looking close to passing out and reached out to grip the edge of the bed for balance. "I gotta eat, too weak after that inferno yesterday." she mumbled a bit fought to keep her eyes open and to remain standing. But she kept them open and looked at Dean. "Promote enough trust for ya? Or are you gonna treat me like a monster and try to kill me like others have?"

[Dean Winchester]

Dean listened to Shelby's story, raising his eyebrows a little.

"Wow. Who'd know that Pyro was a woman!" Dean said, almost chuckling. "Sorry, X-men reference. Seriously, I have to admit that I'm not a big fan of witches." he said "Just being honest here." he added, putting his hands up. "I have had dealings with witches in the past. I've killed them and they have attempted to kill me. They were bad people out for revenge and they were killing people. I'm talking about your average witch - brewing spells, using hex bags to do all sorts of nasty s$#&. But you don't look the type to use hex bags, huh? At least I hope not. Hate thos damn things!"

Dean got up from the bed to look out of the window. Everything seemed quite out there, which was strange in itself.

"Look I don't mean to offend you, and I ain't gunna kill you. Hell, we need all the help in the world if we are going to get through this. I don't have time for prejudices so right now I consider us friends. Besides you owe me for saving your hot ass back there." Dean said, smirking before picking his gun up and going over to the door.

"I'm going to see if there's some food around here, and maybe even some clothes. I don't think the heating is working in this place and its not going to do either of us any good to have either of us starve to death or you to freeze to death. I'll be back."

Going down stairs, Dean found very little in the way of eddible food - some buiscuts, a few tins of beans, but with the kitchen seemingly wrecked, they would have to be eaten cold. He then searched other rooms, untill he got to the laundry room.

"Oh you've got to be freaking kidding me!" he exclaimed as he picked up a pair of jeans and a shirt before heading back up to the room.

"Hey" he said on re-entering the room. "Slim pickings in terms of food." he said placing the food on the bed, along with a can opener and a couple of spoons. "And I did not exactly know your size in clothes, so I hope these fit." he said throwing the jeans over to her and then opening up the shirt to show her fully. It was a black sleevless shirt with flames on it. "I really hope this does, though." he said, giving her a cheaky grin.