Highly Dangerous

by:

Emmeline's Embers and DeeDee's Box

Fourteen days.

Fourteen short, yet somehow agonizingly long, days since Delaney Johnson rose from the dead.

Really, she shouldn't be surprised. With her experience in the world of the unnatural, this was a common occurrence. However, she'd never thought the bizarre event would happen to her.

She spent her first six days back on the surface firmly planted in the bed at her mother's house, the pink walls and the ghost of her younger days watching over her. So exhausted was she that it never occurred to her that she didn't want to be there. Only waking for meals and bathroom breaks, the thought of standing upright for more than the walk to her bathroom made sleep befall her incredibly heavy eyelids once more.

On day seven, she finally did not ache to her core and wakefulness hit her around the five o'clock hour. It was then, and only then, that she allowed herself to analyze the ever increasingly obvious fact that a member of her family must have been responsible for her miraculous return from the dead.

There was only one way that she knew to bring someone to life.

Following day seven, Laney spent time arguing with her mother and taking time to mentally recover. As one would expect, or not expect, (as it's not really a normal thing to miraculously return from the land of tortured souls and be propelled into that of the living) Hell isn't something one "bounces back" from.

Laney wrestled with undying gratitude that she was no longer in Hell, and her anger that the woman whom gave her life admitted to selling her soul to bringing her back. As if it were a perfectly sane thing to do. The image in her head of the conversation greatly contrasted with her hazy memory of the Adelaide that stood over her upon her first returning to life.

Adelaide internally and externally looked as if she was not doing well prior to Laney's return, and even for a short while afterwards. The way she was informed of her only daughter's death had, apparently, shaken her to the core. Never one to confess such a thing, Adelaide tried her hardest to hide the constant threat of unshed tears from her eyes for many days until she managed to replace the cool mask of indifference over her fragile, almost feline features.

It was only after much coaxing did the younger of the blondes discover that her body had washed up following a major hurricane, which all but destroyed the coast of Florida. At first, she was confused. She didn't have a perfect recollection of her demise, but she knew for a fact that her dismemberment did not take place within a one-hundred-mile radius of any body of water, and she would've bet money that her body would've been burned into that of a solid gray ash and salt mixture, as only suited the death of a hunter.

Adelaide looked on at her youngest with unyielding eyes, never once betraying the minefield of emotions she'd lived in from the moment a Florida state medical examiner called to notify next of kin for her death. The news that her daughter's body was found in multiple pieces did little to quell her nausea over the situation, nor did her daughter's almost immediate need to leave home again.

There were many things that did not add up to Laney, the first of which being her current emotional status.

As much as they didn't get along, Laney didn't want her mother to experience the same thing she had for several centuries (which turned out to only be a little less than a year on the surface, time moves differently when you're being obliterated and pieced back together again in an unending cycle) in that place of eternal suffering.

The dawn of day fourteen brought about an inexplicable amount of action from the blonde's side, the likes of which her new tenure on Earth had yet to experience. These motions were not terribly unfamiliar when compared with her previous life, but she felt an array of emotions that went without a definitive word in her mind.

First, Laney spent an unmentionable amount of time trying to squeeze into jeans that would've swallowed her prior to her death. Before, she was hardly able to hold a size two pair of pants up on her hips without looking like a weight loss commercial, and her ribs poked out from whichever shirt she wore, but now she struggled into the size six pants in her closet from high school.

But victory was finally hers after much wiggling, a few squats, and a pep talk that reminded herself that not only was she at an unhealthy weight before-hand, but that her mission in life mattered more than her current body measurements. Also, she momentarily admired her reflection, stunned that she once again had a butt.

'Not the point,' she thought. It felt silly to focus on something like weight fourteen days out of eternal suffering and damnation, but served as a break from haunted thoughts and salty cheeks.

Finally, she had a plan to stick to.

Laney bounded down three flights of stairs to her father's gun safe and then to the garage. There were several items on her "to do" list, and the first of which was a conversation that needed to happen in private.

With Adelaide's cellular phone and a bag of Cheetos she was most definitely NOT going to eat in her passenger seat, the young, green eyed wild child peeled out of the six-car garage under the back side of the estate at such a speed that it tore rose buds straight off the bushes along the winding, stately driveway.

The phone glared at her, mocking from its perch on the passenger seat. Would Genie answer? Now that the shock of her being dead less than a year had settled in, her thoughts wondered to where Genesis would be now. Would she be with her Dad? Did she take up hunting with the surviving Winchester?

Her hands shook on the steering wheel at the thought of the elder Winchester brother. He was-it was too hard to think of him now. What was done, was done. There was nothing dwelling on that particular subject would bring her except memories of her damnation and an anxiety attack.

The number for Genie's main mobile nearly dialed itself, surprisingly easy to remember despite all the months that'd passed.

The ringing was bringing out not only a nervous foot tapping in her, but also an empty feeling of numbness that settled in the deepest part of her stomach. "Leave a message," Genesis' unmistakable voice echoed into her ear. Not much longer, a phone carrier message informed her that the voicemail box of the number she was trying to reach was full, followed by a click that ended the call without her pushing a single button.

The Genesis she knows checks and deletes her messages religiously, even when she's screening calls. In fact, the only time she'd ever seen the medium complexioned woman miss a call she wasn't purposely ignoring was on the off chance that someone called her whilst she was in the shower.

It was eight in the morning, and Genesis never showered in the morning. She hated it, and avoided ruining her early hours of the day with the exhaustive process of showering, shaving, rinsing, drying, moisturizing, and then applying the many skin and hair oil treatments she cherished.

The fact that Genesis did not answer and her inability to leave a message sent a blind panic straight to her chest.

As much as Laney knew that her first contact should be with Genie, the worry of something happening to her only real friend was causing her labored breathing and a sharp pain in her left breast that might have been heart burn or a heart attack, she wasn't quite sure. The only thing she knew to do was dial Bobby, whom surely kept tabs on her best friend, especially since Laney had been gone.

"Yeah?" Bobby never bothered with polite greetings, and it comforted her.

"Bobby? It's Laney," her voice shook. Now that she put a single thought into this situation, she wouldn't be surprised if the older man immediately hung up on her. This was not the best idea she'd ever had.

Perhaps there was another way to go about doing this, though she doubted showing up at his house would result in anything other than her being attacked.

"Laney? Jesus, we shoulda burned the both of ya."

"Fucking thanks?" Her face scrunched up in confusion and outright hurt. Her right foot slammed on the brake pedal and she angled her parent's small, black sedan over onto the shoulder of the road.

"Good Christ," the graveling voice swore on the other end of the connection. There was a silence, a lack of words punctuated only by breathing noises transmitted through either speaker.

"Bobby," she started after opening and closing her mouth several times. "I know it doesn't seem like it's possible, but it's really me and I can't get ahold of Genie to-pun not intended-save my damn life." Laney felt the tears prickling at her eyes, but she didn't know why.

oOo

For a split second, Genesis felt a quiver in her stomach. She put it off as a stomach ache, probably because she'd forgotten to eat once again.

A blink heavily settled over her eyes as she thought to herself that tacos sounded nice, perhaps a bottle of tequila would go as side dish, and gin for dessert. 'Maybe cheese dip, too?' Her forearm blocked a blow from her attacker without much thought, ignoring the pain that came from the cutting blade and the force behind it.

Her eyes glazed over when the spray of blood slung past her face. It wasn't hers. Her knife welding hands remained steady, and a tad sweaty, whilst gripping onto the weapon she'd chosen to take after the human scum.

Humans weren't normally her forte, but this one pissed her off enough to make her take notice. He'd started by insulting her at the gas pump, and kept it up by following her when he didn't think she'd notice.

His time had come to an end the second he crawled in her first story window, rope and duct tape on a tool belt.

Genesis didn't play well with others, and didn't tolerate the misgivings of what she was assuming was an attempted rape.

She contemplated her luck. Since she'd started hunting with Laney, it was as if she had a large target painted over her. A dark cloud that indicated to the entire world that she was up for a fight. The anger no longer rolled off her in waves at this series of violence and misfortune.

No. This barely even registered as a struggle. The man was hardly a worthy opponent, not after the months following Laney's leaving her. In fact, a smile almost graced her tired features at the thought of the wrestling matches she and her partner once enjoyed.

They'd fought over anything and everything, though it was mostly Cheetos and who would get the last bag.

This man didn't even meet the standards of a playful match between friends, and yet he thought to harm her? It was almost comical.

Almost.

Her brow furrowed in irritation as the man managed to get behind her and place a knife to her neck. If this intruder truly wanted her full attention, who was she to deny him?

Genie grasped the arm at her neck, using it to lift her feet off the ground. Her full weight, which wasn't much as she hadn't been properly taking care of herself and most of her diet was liquid these days, was enough to pull the weak man down until Genie was on her knees and he was bent over her, the perfect height for her to reach back and stab the man in his genitals.

"Dumbass," her neck was bleeding and her patience was thin. "Always disarm someone before you get behind them." Now that she thought about it, the thought of food made her nauseated, despite how hungry she was.

In a dull place at the base of her skull she hoped one day she might starve to death. It was a fitting end, in her eyes, and not one that she directly cared enough to really prevent. Self care wasn't high on her list of things she could be bothered with, right along with make up or fashion beyond what was already packed away in her bag.

For the first time in her life, Genesis was not following the current fashion trends or winging her eyeliner so sharp it could cut off her least favorite part of the male anatomy with one distasteful look. Her ribs had passed the point of showing on her skin, and her pelvic bones were clearly visible in her black pants, which looked baggy on her no matter how tight she looped her belt.

Interrupting her thoughts, the phone laying on her bed beeped indignantly at her. The sound was strange for a number of reasons, mostly being that it was eight-something in the morning, but that she never took the sullen device off silent these days.

That thing was nothing good for her, only a tangle of unanswered voicemails issuing orders at her. Her attitude as of late really brought out her feminism. Ordering or 'gently suggesting' any course of action from her would result in a dead gleam in her eye and a sarcastic rise of a bottle to her chapped lips.

If you weren't six-foot-tall and blonde, Genesis wasn't accepting your calls.

Wiping the blood of the corner of her mouth where it tickled her chin, Genie bent to grab the nameless creature from his crumbled position on the floor. The idea of hanging him from his penis to the shower curtain rod made one side of her lips quirk.

This man had the nerve to follow her, attempt to harm her, and now ruin a perfectly good hotel room for her. Maybe she could get a few hours of sleep before he started to stink up the place? 'No,' a deep breath tore through her ragged chest. 'I won't be asleep by then.'

Eating was not the only healthy thing she chose to vigilantly ignore. Sleep evaded her every night until it finally over came in, sometimes in the dead of the day when the outside world was the most populated with happy people. Seeing them live their lives really soured her already so chipper mood. There wasn't much she didn't look at in distain anymore. Happy families, young couples, stressed out soccer moms sharing coffee at the bus stops. All common sights in the small towns she frequented. All vomit inducing.

Instead of investigating jobs as she once would've completed with absolute diligence, she skulked around crime scenes late at night and angrily commanded people from her thoughts to not look at her. Her life wasn't their business, she didn't need to acknowledge shocked glances and pitying stares at her emaciated form and the dark bruises under her eyes that reached towards the tops of her sharp cheek bones, once padded with a healthy amount of padding and coated with blush, now hung from her face in a constant appearance of wariness.

Genesis acknowledged that she looked like shit, but did she care? No. It wasn't something she thought of, and especially not as she strung up her would-be attacker to the shower curtain rod, with bowed dangerously under the weight of the, admittedly small, male.

Walking out of the bathroom, the brunette grabbed her still full bag and threw her phone into its depths. The front screen lit as she picked up the device to reveal that her voicemail box was full and the call she'd just missed was from a number she didn't recognize. "Nice try, Bobby," she spoke into the empty (minus the dead guy) room. "Calling from a different number isn't enough to fool me."

oOo

"I'm not giving you her location," Bobby grumbled through his end of the phone. "Even if I had it. You may not be the first one to come back from the dead this year, but I'm not convinced you're not some damned creature."

"If I'm a creature, it'd be a surprise to me." Laney felt the sudden urge to potentially soil her pants with the oncoming anxiety attack. "Who the hell else came back from the dead this year?" Flashes of red and white lights appeared in her mind scape, tugging on her consciousness in reminder of the missing body beside her on the rack.

Not that he'd actually been on the rack in his final tenure there, anyways, but the memory persisted.

Laney shook her head and refused to think of the person flashing before her closed eyes. He couldn't hurt her. He wasn't here. She was in West Virginia, not in Hell. Focusing on that subject would only cause her to pass out from hyperventilation.

"Dean popped up in September," the man must have pulled away partially from the phone because she had difficulty hearing what he'd said. "And what a friggin' mess that's been."

"Is he there with you?" Laney pulled her lips so tight in displeasure that they threatened to crack in the center.

Bobby shifted around his kitchen, still within reach of the cord connecting his phone to the wall. Would this information clue anyone in? Why did her voice sound so stricken? Did those flappy winged bastards bring Laney back, too? What the hell did she have to do with the friggin' apocalypse? Bobby was getting real tired of this "end of the world mystery" bullshit. "No. What brought you back to life, Laney?" There was no point in beating around the bush. Not in times like these.

"My mother," Laney swallowed past the thick lump in her throat. Dean Winchester was breathing the same air as her. She was now less okay than she had previously been not okay, but she refused to focus on the panic building in her stomach, along with the bile. "She sold her soul to get me back." The admission barely came out above a whisper.

Though she had admitted this to herself before, Laney would be damned-again, no pun intended-if Adelaide would follow the same path in Hell that she'd already blazed. The younger blonde was convinced she'd end up back there upon her next death, anyway, right beside her mother for all eternity.

Somehow, that seemed worse than the first time she'd taken up residence in the fiery pit.

"Shit!" His swearing brought her mind back to the conversation at hand. "Souls aren't fucking currency, why don't people seem to grasp that concept?" Even from her end, she heard the gulping of a liquid down his throat at the completion of the sentence.

"Look, I'll get my shit together here and pop up to your place. It'll take me a few days, but I need you to try and get ahold of Genie for me." Laney did not look forward to that discussion with her mother, but she had a plan, damn it.

After she found Genie, the entirety of her focus will be on getting her mother out of the deal she'd so irresponsibly made. As much as she would fight tooth and nail to never see that place again, she'd jump in a hundred times more to prevent her mother's future residency there.

Perhaps, Laney once again begrudgingly admitted to herself, that she really did have some single ounce of love for her mother in that dark hole she called a heart.

Reviewers:

SuzSinger: We were glad when you said you had no idea where this story was headed. We felt like most everyone would guess Laney would be back eventually, but we also felt as if it needed time to fester and an acknowledgement that things wouldn't just magically go back to normal like I've read in other stories. Things have changed, and there are repercussions to actions. We hope that is coming across in print as it is in our own heads...? Sorry for the ramblings, and thank you for the review!

Thank you all for taking time out of your busy days to read, and have a great day!