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Caitlin Snow/Killer Frost (frostandsnow) wrote in wariscoming,

Azazel was still alive, somehow he'd escaped the collective force of Winchester and he'd gotten away. And the truth was she still had no idea what she was supposed to feel about any of it. But that was okay. Sam and, suprisingly Dean, had told her she didn't have to worry, she didn't have to help and even that it was understandable that she wasn't ready to see him die again. But at the same time she sort of was. He had to, he'd hurt too many people and for the first time, she didn't like it. She didn't want to have any part in the things he was doing anymore. No, all she wanted now was what she had. Her life with Sam. Her friends. Things that meant something, not evil and hell and darkness. And yeah it was still tempting, it was always so very tempting but she had Sam. And the fact that he understood that temptation was important to her. They could fight it together.

She'd been slobbing around in old leggings and one of Sam's shirts which was acting more as a dress right now than anything else and had spent the morning cleaning and then reading through posts on the board. Disturbingly domestic for the demon some might say, and she hadn't helped by the hour she'd spent washing and styling her hair either. She had been brushing it out when Sam had called her into the bedroom. And she'd stood up, brush in hand to see what he wanted, no questions asked. Why would she, he could have wanted any one of a number of things all of which she was pretty sure she'd enjoy. But upon entering, and nearly choking on all the cologne. More than she was sure he'd ever used all at once. She waved her hand around trying to get rid of some of it and laughed, at least until she saw how serious he looked.

Serious wasn't good was it? Serious led to discussions and generally bad things. But why would they, they'd gotten through all the problems they'd had, hadn't they? The lies, the blood. They'd come through it stronger and he'd told her she'd done well, been strong to fight him on the blood. To say no to him. He'd often told her she was ready to do that but she'd never been sure. And then she'd just known. It had to be done. But the seriousness. It worried her.

"Hey." she said softly moving across to sit beside him on their bed wondering why he looked so fancy. Should she look fancy too? "Are we dressing up to go somewhere?" she asked. Damn, he looked fantastic as it happened. Bar the hair, was he trying to make it neat or something? She leaned over to ruffle it back to the mess it should be but sat back having made the impulsive move looking worried again. The seriousness was creeping her out. "You should probably say something" she told him trying to cover for a nervous laugh with a cough. Real smooth. Queen of Seduction she was not, least not right now.