Fiction Title: Racing Towards Destiny
Chapter Title: Driving Away The Demons
Author: Restive Nature
Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Story Rating: PG-13 to NC-17
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Genre: Crossover
Type: Romance, Angst
Pairing: Sam/ Max
Summary: One dream set her on a path of destiny.
Spoilers/ Timeline: This story would begin in Chapter 17- Coming Of Age
Feedback: Always welcome!
Distribution: Ask first, please
A/N: This story, while being in the same universe as WiC, does not actually occur within that storyline. This fiction is just an off-shoot of what might have happened.
Chapter Four
Driving Away The Demons
Sam reached for the jeans that he’d worn yesterday since they were still fairly clean. He rifled through his open duffel bag and found a clean, untorn t-shirt. Just as he was pulling it on, he heard a door creak open. He stilled, letting the material drop into place on its own, waiting with baited breath to see if she was coming into the living room where he, Dean and John were bunked down. But no, she crept through the hallway, completely dressed, even her coat and boots, carrying her helmet under her arm.
Sam swore silently as he realized her intent. Dropping to his knees, he quickly dug out some socks and jerked them on. Inadvertently, he ended up kicking his brother’s shoulder. Dean jerked and grumbled in his sleep. Outside, Rumsfeld gave a small welcoming yip and Sam heard Max admonish the dog to keep quiet. Hurrying, so that he wouldn’t miss his chance, Sam kicked at Dean’s arm again. Grudgingly, one eyelid opened and peered up at him.
“Dean,” he whispered, leaning over his brother. “Max and I are going for a drive, okay?” The eye shut and his older brother mumbled something and then he rolled over, once more oblivious. Sam mentally shrugged and jumped up. He hurried into the kitchen, glancing hopefully out the window. With relief, he saw that she was tugging Rumsfeld by the collar towards the doghouse. Glancing around at the heap of outer wear piled by the door, he spotted a spare helmet and yanked it from the pile before creeping out of the house. She was probably going to chain the puppy up so he wouldn’t try to follow her as he had done before. As soon as Sam rounded the corner, he knew his assumption was correct. She had stuffed the dog into his abode and was attaching the chain to his collar. The puppy gave another short bark when he spotted Sam.
“Hush!” Max whispered harshly. “You’re gonna wake everybody up.”
“A little too late for that,” Sam announced quietly, smiling slightly as Max gave a little jump, spun around on her heels and stood, her hands held defensively.
“Oh Sam! What are you doing?” she screeched and then clapped a hand over her mouth.
“I should be asking you that,” he smirked as she flushed and lowered her hand.
“I’m going for a ride,” she announced, darting around him, heading for her bike. She was probably hoping to get there first and get gone. But with his long legs, he was able to keep up and slid onto the bike behind her, just seconds after. “Sam! What the hell are you doing?”she shrieked.
“I’m going with you,” he replied laconically.
“You weren’t invited,” she retorted.
“So I have bad manners,” he grunted, shifting a little to settle in comfortably. Max reacted like she had been scalded. She jumped off the bike so quickly, it began to tilt until Sam regained balance, planting his right foot firmly on the ground.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she announced defensively. Sam lifted one eyebrow. Carefully watching her, he reached forward and plucked the key for the ignition and held it up, the key chain loop sliding down his index finger, to dangle securely.
“Then you don’t want to forget these. Never know when someone might come along and just take off with your bike.” The helpless yet guilty indignation that crossed her face had him fighting a smile. But the mulishness and the sense that she was about to take flight again wiped the merriment from his mind. “Max, I just want to know what I did,” he pleaded, dropping his hand to rest dejectedly on his leg. “Why you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you,” she protested automatically.
“Well then why have you been avoiding me?” Sam shot back.
“I haven’t!”
“Yes you have,” Sam argued. “Max, can’t we just talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about Sam,” she whimpered, unable to meet his eyes.
“Yes there is,” Sam persisted, now leaning towards her. “And no matter what, I’m going to keep bugging you until you tell me. And there won’t be anywhere that you can hide from me. And you won’t be able to use Dad or Dean or Bobby as a buffer, because everyone knows that somethings wrong between us.” For once in his life, Sam didn’t even feel remotely guilty for the little white lie. Only Dean knew and his knowledge of the situation was even more sketchy than Sam’s. But it seemed to work as Max threw a nervous glance over her shoulder towards the house. Several emotions that Sam couldn’t rightly name were flitting through her eyes. Finally she returned to the bike and threw her leg over the seat.
“Fine. Let’s ride,” she barked.
With a sigh, Sam reached forward, dangling the key for her to grab. She inserted the key into the ignition and turned it enough to release the brake. Understanding that it was her intent not to wake the others by starting the motor, Sam helped with pushing the bike while she steered them towards the open gate in the chain link fence that surrounded Bobby’s yard. Once they were a decent distance down the road, Max started up the engine and drove on. Nothing was said as Max drove aimlessly down the highway. Mainly because they’d have to shout to be heard over the wind and the engine. But also because Max was devoutly sticking to her preference of avoiding Sam in any way that she still possibly could. And Sam, because he just didn’t know what to say.
After they’d passed through their third town, Sam began to wonder if she planned on ever returning to Bobby’s. He knew that they’d have to stop eventually or else run out of gas. Sam had never been riding on Max’s bike for so long before. He was finding that the chilly, snowy March day was not ideal weather to be riding around in. He knew that it was pointless to hope that Max would stop. She was going to keep riding until she’d rode out her personal demons. As he huddled closer to her, trying to suck up some of her seemingly inexhaustible supply of body heat, he wished fervently that he had brought along some gloves. His hands twitched reflexively at the thought and the next thing he knew, Max was jerking the bike to the right, running them off the road.
She pulled to an abrupt halt near a small crop of trees lining the ditch. The engine was still running as she leapt off the bike, moving away at a fast clip. Stunned, Sam automatically shut the engine off, pocketed the key and knocked the kickstand down before he hurried after her. Now he finally might get some answers, since it seemed like she was at a breaking point.
Max had made it to the trees and was leaning into one, her forehead pressed against the frozen bark. Sam reached out a hand to catch her elbow, to pull her around to face him and have whatever this was, out.
“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, spinning around. Sam saw her fist coming and his only saving grace was the slick snow beneath his feet. The intended blow glanced off his shoulder as his feet slipped out from underneath him. He fell on his ass and the momentum carried him the rest of the way. They stared at each other, mouths hanging open in shock. And then Max stepped forward, falling to her knees. “Oh Sam! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-!”
“What the hell is the matter with you/” Sam grunted, the refrain sounding tired to his ears. He’d asked it so many time lately without getting an answer. He wasn’t sure that he wanted one anymore. If anything, he wanted to be able to ignore her, like she so easily ignored him. Except, now there was a tear hovering at the outside corner of her eye and he felt like a little bit of a heel. He knew better, had been taught that you didn’t manhandle women, not even your own sister. And grabbing a pissed off Max was like an open invitation to getting your ass kicked. “Max I-!”
“I just wanted you to leave me alone,” she cried out, cutting across his intended apology. “But you’re always there. And it’s driving me nuts. And I can’t think, I can’t sleep, because it’s not going away. It should go away, but it doesn’t because you’re just there!”
Sam stared at her, shocked as she ranted at him, her face, her eyes haunted with frustration. But before he could reply, before he could even begin to sort out why she wanted him gone so badly, her hands had fisted in the material of his jacket, yanking him upwards. His hands covered her feebly, unable in the few second available to him to decipher what was happening.
And then her lips were slanted across his, hard at first and then softening after a moment. It felt like everything in the world slowed to a halt and just fell away and then she was gone. Sam stared at her, wide eyed as she sat back on her heels and she slowly realized what she had done. Her hands stole up to her face, her fingertips covering her lips as her face scrunched up. Sam barely heard her whispered apology through the thrumming of his heart pounding in his ears. Everything that had just fallen away came back with a vengeance. And Sam felt as if he’d come alive with an amazing jolt, waking to find his fantasies fulfilled, his dreams come true.
He reached for her, marveling at how right this felt. Even her muffled protest in form of his name as he hauled her to him, twisting her so that she landed in his lap could not dim the swelling of emotion through him. Her hands braced against his shoulders as if trying to keep him at a distance, perhaps fearing a dreadful retaliation, but that was the furthest thing from his mind. He cupped her face, drawing her forward gently, his thumbs brushing against the curve of her cheekbone. He pressed his lips to hers, pleading silently for her not to pull away again. Her hands stiffened on his shoulders and then to his utter relief, relaxed as the rest of her body followed suit, melting into him.
His hands moved to hold her snugly against his torso. Her lips parted beneath his and Sam’s eyes fluttered shut as thrill after thrill chased through him. Their tongues met and joined in a frenzy of taste and exploration. All Sam knew was that everything was finally okay. All the times that he’d chastised himself for watching her when she slept, all the times he’d watched her in the morning, parading around in her short nightgown or tank top and short shorts, it was all okay. For all the times he’d had to bunch up the covers first thing in the morning to hide the physical evidence of a night spent dreaming of her, all the times he’d sat so close, yearning to hold her, it all fell away. For all the hours he spent, castigating himself because he wanted so badly to hold her in a non-familial way, it was all right, because now he knew that she wanted it too.
But he needed reassurance, to make sure that he wasn’t still just dreaming, he pulled away. Her eyes followed, looking up at him shyly, a little line of confusion marring her forehead.
“So this,” he croaked, his throat tight, “this is what’s been bothering you these last few weeks?”
“Years Sam,” she corrected him dryly and his eyes widened once more. “Years,” she whispered and this new discovery was shunted away as she gave a small laugh and kissed him again.
RTD05- Escaping Winter's Hold
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