Reality Crisis

Once the battle with the creature was over, Michonne was up in her apartment and packing. She'd amassed a small amount of stuff since arriving in the city, but not so much that it couldn't be rolled up and fit into her bags. There was only one completely unnecessary item that she packed, and there was no way in hell that she was leaving it behind. Thankfully, it fit right on top of the clothes she placed in her backpack, the bag that held the things she was most concerned about keeping. The other two, well, those she could lose and still survive without, for the most part. It was all clothes, though normally food went in there too.

Food.

She had a few items stored, emergency rations, and she half-jogged to the kitchen to pull them out of the place where she'd hidden them. Instinct. There was a can opener, too, and this she placed in the backpack, as it would become an important key to survival. She'd learned that very quickly back home.

Michonne wanted to talk to Dean, she wanted to make him come, too. But he had Sam and Fred and his friend Aidan who he wasn't quite sure about. She didn't know if he would abandon them. Which is, if she was going to be completely honest, exactly what she was doing. But self preservation and survival was ingrained in her now so deeply that she couldn't physically do anything else. Sitting around and waiting for another fucking dragon to show up, or more things to vanish, or more people to die, none of it fit in with the way that she'd lived her life.

It did hurt her heart to be doing this. To be running. And it made her angry, too. To be so uprooted from a place that she'd made a home in again. Michonne had to pause in her retrieval of food to stifle a sob. She was glad that nobody was here to see her break down like this.

Dean saw Sam now and then, sometimes on patrol or getting off patrol. Sometimes he'd see his brother with the blushing bride. Sometimes he'd see the pair from a distance, and he left them to their time together. At first, he was a little jealous, a little angry; it didn't make any sense because deep down he was damned happy for and proud of Sam. Funny thing was, he didn't drink away the pain, not this time; it wasn't a good pain, but it was one he was going to face.

Some part of him was healing. The slip of paper under his door and the lack of anger that came with it was a sign. He even let himself smile a little, knowing just what the stupid vampire was doing. Mostly. That gave him an idea. Or maybe it just gave him the courage to do a particular something. Sam with Fred, Aidan with Evey - even if he thought the second pairing was doomed to bloody - literally - failure.

The hunter grabbed up a package from the place he'd hidden it in the closet and headed out. He knew where his target would be, or a few places she'd be. He stopped by her place, knocked, but got no reply. Instead, he headed down the stairs to the lobby, knowing she'd be heading in soon seeing as she wasn't already.

Back home, weddings might have taken months of planning and putting things together. Sam didn't much care for the idea of waiting. Not in a world that could just as easily rain death on you at a moment's notice. He loved Fred and he wanted to marry her.

She'd asked for a wedding in the fairy forest and while Sam didn't love that idea, she had a point about getting married somewhere that still looked alive and mostly untouched by the devastation that was everywhere you looked in this world.

They weren't too far in the forest. Just far enough in that they couldn't see the ruins, but not so far that they were in the very heart of faerie territory.

Sam had managed to scrounge up clean clothes that were nicer than his every day clothes. He hadn't found a suit, but he did have a nice button-up shirt, a jacket, and some slacks. Some of the locals had been excited to give clothes that had long since been forgotten in closets because they weren't practical. Weddings were a happy occasion and die Festung didn't get to see enough happiness.

Sam thought it was nice that even amidst all of the destruction, life still went on. That was why this day was important. Even if legal marriages weren't a thing anymore. Even if this was a symbolic ceremony, it was still important.

He loved Fred and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Even if the rest of his life was only a few more days or years, and even if it might be decades. He thought that it was important to stop and acknowledge that and celebrate it. Because this was the sort of thing that made it all worth fighting for.

Sam tugged at his collar as he stood in between Dean and Cas and waited for Fred to make her appearance. There was a little case of nerves as he worried that maybe the bride would have second thoughts and wouldn't show. He did his best to dismiss that paranoia and watched the small opening in the trees for any sign of his future bride.

The Doctor felt the heat of a broken world as it crumbled around him, and he stared at the older looking male who, in fact, was younger than him. Staring back at him, at the nameless 'Doctor', he frowned and clutched Clara in his arms as they began to back away. He heard the man say something along the lines of, 'What I did, I did without choice. I did in the name of peace.' The Doctor frowned and glared back at this man with understanding, "But it wasn't in the name of 'The Doctor'..."

The world began to shake again as memories began to fold in on themselves and had to right themselves. They'd overstayed their welcome, and he had to get out now with Clara or they'd both burn up and die on the weight of his own memories. He grabbed her and they moved, climbing the rocks, he found the shaft of light he'd used to get here and sailed through it with Clara back to the fields of Trenzalore themselves. Collapsing into a heap as they burst into the control of a future TARDIS, he took her by the hand and they moved as fast as they could through the lost and dark corridors, pushing through doors and walls, and eventually coming up through his wife's gravestone.

Bursting through the earth they turned and began to spin in place and he then ran back towards his TARDIS, Clara's hand in his. Bursting through the doors of his TARDIS he began to run around the center console, flipping switches and buttons and all that he could, before looking back towards the young, scared, but so brilliantly brave woman. She had to be confused now, and the ordeal... god that ordeal. How could a Time Lord survive it, let alone a human girl? But she was... she was such a special girl. He smirked then spun again as he went to work on the console and pointed towards a nearby railing, "Hold on. She's not going to like this much."

He hit the final lever and slammed it down, the TARDIS worped to life, but the engines sounded labored and it screeched in pain as it tried to get out of this hell hole faster than it ever had gone. Yet the timelines and broken laws were so much, they crossed the time stream and caused the TARDIS to veer out of control. The thing spun through the air, through the Time Vortex, but completely out of control. He fought to gain that control back, but he was losing it and he looked back towards Clara... she was gone. She wasn't there. He flipped a switch on the main console, and frowned... that didn't, well it just didn't make any... sense? She'd been thrown from the TARDIS, back to her own time, her own world. He looked up at the TARDIS, it's power cells were shutting down and he smiled. It had risked what power it had left to make sure she was safe, as the TARDIS itself lost its power. It would have thrown him safely from its interior, but he'd never have gone. If they were to die, it was always together. Always them.

He ran around the console, picking up what power he could muster in the crash units, in the stabilizers, and held on for dear life. He grit his teeth and smiled, "Geronimo."

The TARDIS fell through the Time Vortex, and then swirled into what looked like a black and purple funnel, spinning through it was spun out of control and rocked left and right, until shot from the vortex, from the sky, and skyrocketed down through the clouds that blanketed this desolate world, and slammed hard into the ground below, tumbling across the ground until it landed on its back, the doors facing up towards the sky. The Doctor himself had been thrown around the console room, and down a few corridors, but managed to keep alive.

Crawling through the interior, he managed to claw his way to the control panel and hit a button that forced the doors open. He snatched up his trusty grappling hook and threw it up, so that it hooked onto the edge, and climbed towards the door of the tiny blue box. He popped his head out suddenly and looked around... blinking as armed guards made their way towards his crashed ship.

He smiled to them all as they pointed at him. He dragged himself out of the ship and dropped in front of them, brushing off his hands on his pants before smirking at them all, "Hello, I'm The Doctor."

"Welcome to die Festung, Doctor... you're going to come with us." Guns cocking as they pointed towards the man and his box.

He gave a face at the guns, "Always with the guns..." he waved them off and began to walk around the TARDIS, checking it out here and there, before then turning around to face them, "Mind helping me give it a push? Should really be stood up... also anyone have some gum? Have to pop my ear."

Said as he stretched and worked his jaw while sticking his pinky into his ear and swirling it around a bit.

Earthquakes weren't really a new thing, all said. Michonne wasn't completely sheltered and she hadn't been confined to one state her entire life. She'd traveled, and she'd even managed to be in places when earthquakes had happened. It wasn't a pleasant experience by any stretch of the imagination, but none of them had been as bad as the one she was feeling now.

Survival instinct had Michonne flinging herself out of the apartment without making sure that the door was secure behind her, and fleeing the building. She knew that it was better to stay inside when the earth began to move. Of course, that was when you were certain the building you were in was going to stay standing. She had no such faith in the structures of die Festung. She felt that there would be less chance of something falling on her outside than the roof falling on her if she stayed in.

Movement wasn't easy, and she just barely managed to not trip on her exit.

Once outside, she glanced around, unsure of what to do.

The idea that she had helped to kickstart a future in which Dean Winchester lost two people who were really close to him had never quite gone away. It had caused Michonne to be broody. More than usual. Which was saying something, since that was generally her constant state of being. She secluded herself more often, rarely leaving the small apartment.

Though she did wonder once or twice about the dog.

It did seem to be too well fed to be a stray, but she couldn't help but consider every now and again if she needed a dog in her life. It might have just been because he was about the only social contact she'd had in a while. Or maybe because he'd been such a good listener, which was absurd, cause... dog.

She worried that she would see those two little girls, those sweet things, in her future, because of what she and Dean had done. She wasn't sure that she wanted kids again to begin with, and she sure as hell didn't want them as a substitute for something that was lost. She didn't want them based on the idea that the only way to have them was for Dean - or anybody else - to go through a huge tragic event.

But she had seen their beautiful faces, and she had felt her own love for them. And that was something that Michonne could not let go of, either.

While she wasn't really a drinker, and not usually one to go get wasted to escape things, Michonne decided that today was a good day to start being. Or a good day to make an exception. Whichever. She gathered her things - her sword never being far from her side - and left the apartment, keeping an eye out for the dog as she made for the front doors.

( Read more... )

The dog had been in search of something. He'd been out looking for the man he'd smelled on Magdelene, and the next thing he knew he was curled up freezing his lily white ass off. Sam, at first, was almost unwilling to shift back to his most comfortable animal form, especially after waking up naked in the chilly air.

He could have made a two legged run for it, but he opted for the warmer yet strangely uncomfortable collie. The memories of a very disturbing dream were still with him, and he was somewhat concerned with getting lost in the animal form. He didn't think it could ever happen, but there it was, a memory of a dream in his head.

Sam heard the arguing, a rumble of something not far off, and he made his way over to he seemingly abandoned store to make sure everyone was okay. By the time he got there, he was greeted by something he didn't want to see. He watched in a nonpervy way to make sure that what was happening was a mutual situation, and when he realized they were in agreement on the whole, he trotted off to get back into the building. He needed warmth, and maybe some clothes.

Unfortunately, as a dog, he couldn't get into the lobby without help, so he found a spot near the door and settled down to wait. He didn't have to wait too long. He wasn't expecting one half of the angry sex party to show up, but he was on all fours when she got near. His ears dipped a little as if in question, and a hint of tail wag to show thanks.

(Warning: Some sexy times involved; spoiler: they're not very angry sexy times either)

Dean stared down into the engine block. He'd changed the oil. He'd topped off levels. He'd checked and rechecked. He'd waxed the Impala, rubbed her down, and buffed her up. She shone. He'd cleaned the chrome. He'd made sure the leather interior was soft and supple. He'd cleaned anything and everything he could. He'd avoided going back to his place; he really didn't want to see Sam or Fred. Oddly, it wasn't anger that kept him away but guilt.

"She was hot though." He had to admit that. Often the little brainiac reminded him why she was a good fit for his little brother. They worked. Then his mind shifted to the dream. The guilt settled in, and he slammed the hood down.

"Shit." He wiped on the hood a little. "I'm sorry, baby. Just not thinking. I won't do that again." Sure, a little force might be needed to close her up, but he'd used too much. "I'll see you in a little bit, baby. I need some air."

He walked by the other mechanics; he'd already warned them about touching the Impala. And he might have hit at least one of them for getting a little too hands on with his baby, but he didn't threaten or remember to threaten any of them. He needed a walk. And maybe a drink. No food. Well, maybe something small to eat.

He didn't have any destination in mind, just some place with the basic requirements of drink and food. And noise to drown out the thoughts.

She was exhausted.

Life was full of many different things, and she felt like she was being dragged down. She glanced out the window to judge what time it might be, expecting somebody to be at the door any minute now. She could feel the weight of the anticipation, the eagerness. It wasn't something bad that she was awaiting, but something good. It was a strange feeling, knowing something good was coming.

Michonne looked around the apartment. It was a mess. There were things everywhere. Little person things. The sort of things that she hadn't seen since before the walkers. Well, she'd seen them, just not in a happy kind of situation like she was seeing them now.

She sighed.

"Hey!" She called out into the apartment. Somebody else was there, and she knew that for a fact. People that were supposed to be. She shared this place with others. Not just random strangers, but family. The thought of those that occupied this space with her filled her with a warmth that she'd never thought she'd know again.

"Hello! I'm talking to you!" Even though she was yelling, Michonne was smiling. "You need to come clean up after yourselves! There's crap all over my living room. Your dad is going to be home any minute, and I'd rather he not come back to it looking like a tornado blew through here."

Michonne stalked room to room, peeking in through doors, looking for the pair of little people that she knew were in here somewhere. Two tiny beings that were part of her and part of somebody else. She found them where they shouldn't have been, in the master bedroom, hiding under the bed.

"Okay." She put her hands on her hips and tried to look angry. "Sam, Aidan, you two need to get out from under there and clean the damned living room in the next five seconds, or it's going to be a spank for both of you."

The threat was real, the anger wasn't.

(Takes place immediately after this thread)

Murphy liked Michonne, but she was still a bit leery of leading the woman with a grudge to Dean. It seemed like their talk had at least been able to help things a bit. All the same, the former policewoman and current Holy Knight wasn't going to leave those two alone. She had no problem sticking around as referee while Michonne said her peace and demanded her apology.

Luck was on her side, unless it was another case of divine timing though Murphy thought that something like this wasn't exactly in her job description. Dean was found at the first bar she tried. She glanced at Michonne and then nodded in the direction of the table where the hunter could be found, though she had a feeling that the other woman wouldn't have needed it pointed out.

She hung back and waited to see how Michonne wanted to handle this. She would shadow the woman and stick around until she was sure that there wouldn't be too much violence, but for now she was simply in chaperone mode.

Michonne was looking for Dean.

He had convinced her to execute her walkers. He had told her that they didn't exist on this world. He had told her that nobody would let her keep her rotting dogs. It had seemed, at first, that he had been telling the truth on that matter, and she had begun to let the loss go. Despite the fact that she didn't see them as human beings, she had gotten very used to having them around. And maybe somewhere, way back in the back of her mind, she had kept the knowledge of who they had once been, and had liked the fact that she still had them around in some way.

But then she had seen them. She had seen them within the gates of this new place she had been brought. Walkers. Just like the ones she had destroyed.

Her sword had made quick work of a couple, then she had left the rest to others. Her anger at Dean rose in her chest and the loss she had suffered was renewed.

"That motherfucker." She muttered as she walked through the streets of this strange place called die Festung. Somehow, she knew that it was German. It just sounded too German to be anything else. She didn't know the language really, but there was enough of it floating around in common American use that it was recognizable. Michonne had been wary of it at first, wondering how they could have all come together like they had, not sure why so many people would try to survive together. Eventually she recognized that it was unlike anything she had encountered before.

"Fucking tells me there ain't no fucking walkers here. Tells me to end mine. Gets me to do it, too. Brings me here to this place. What do I see? Fucking walkers. Fucking walkers. I am going to give that bastard a piece of my mind when I find him, and he'll be fucking lucky if that's all he gets. I might also give him a piece of my fist."

She didn't need them, Michonne was aware of this. She had a place to go, to keep her things. It was secure and other people actually lived there. She was still keeping all her stuff packed and those backpacks hidden under the bed. She didn't quite trust people.

Her sword was still always, always, on her back. She refused to not travel with it.

The light clank of metal on metal followed her wherever she went, the chains around the necks of the monsters couldn't be silenced, and in a way, Michonne liked it better like that. She knew that they were always there, behind her, like well behaved dogs.

Decaying well behaved dogs.

The change in landscape didn't arouse her suspicions at all. She had seen ruined towns and cities left to fate. That the plants were unfamiliar didn't raise any concern, either. As well educated as she was, Michonne was not a botanist and hadn't done any kind of science classes beyond what she had been required to take. Science was not her interest and never had been. Law was. She had focused on that, not knowing that one day it would mean jack and shit when it came to survival. The only thing that she'd ever done with her life that helped her now was her fencing.

What struck Michonne as strange was the way that the undead moved here. They weren't coming at her slow and shambling, they weren't moving in a herd or like a herd moving toward food. There seemed to be intent there. Purpose beyond just consuming. It unnerved her. But she dropped the leashes she held and readied herself for the fight.