rest with your dream in my dream
Mar. 2nd, 2007 12:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wizened_cynicMore Supernatural AU fic. There's sex this time, making the incest factor 10000000 times more prominent, so if it's not cup of tea, go head over to Tim Horton's instead. Their green tea sucks but I like their toasted chicken clubs.
no one else will travel through the shadows with me
i.
Old habits die hard, so Alex is not entirely surprised when she comes out of the bathroom and finds Lorelai sprawled across the bed Alex has designated as her own.
It's pointless to even ask, but like she said. Old habits.
"Lorelai," Alex says crossly, "why do you do this to me?"
Lorelai beams. "Because it's fun."
"Seriously, I let you pick first, and you picked the other bed. If you wanted this bed, you should've picked it. But no, you made your choice, so get off my bed and let me get some sleep." They've been on the road for a day and a half, and then spent another afternoon reducing some slimy mud-thing back into its original bio-geological components. It's surprising, really, that Alex still has enough energy to argue.
"It's not your bed," Lorelai points out. "I don't see your name on it."
Alex just stares at her. "You did not just try to use that defense."
"Try me."
Alex is too exhausted to put up a fight, so she decides instead to wake up extra early tomorrow and use up all the hot water before Lorelai takes her shower. She walks toward the other bed and begins climbing under the covers.
Lorelai makes a noise from the back of her throat that sounds like the bastard child of a growl and a whine.
Alex looks over. "What?"
Lorelai has scooted onto one side of the bed, and is patting the spot next to her, grinning earnestly.
Alex has a choice between "Oh my god, what is wrong with you?" and "Seriously, how old are you again?" but she opts for the easiest solution and makes her way over.
"Only till you're thirty," Alex tells her.
"Good," says Lorelai, settling into her pillow, "because you're afraid of the dark."
ii.
Alex gets her learner's permit first, because their dads treasure their lives, and more importantly their car, which means Daddy and Dad are only letting one of them on the road at any given time.
Alex has been statistically proven to be less likely to wrap the car around the tree on her very first drive, which means she automatically gets to be first.
"This is so not fair," Lorelai screams. She stomps up the stairs as forcefully as she can and slams the door, shutting out the sound of her dads and sister laughing.
As far as Lorelai is concerned, Alex's permit is completely wasted on her. Alex doesn't have anywhere to go, except to the library to do research, or to Safeway to pick up groceries. "I have to be in the mood to drive," she says, and Alex is never in the mood to drive whenever Lorelai needs a ride anywhere.
Which is why Lorelai never even tells Alex about the appointment. She hasn't even told Alex that she's pregnant, but she figures it's no big deal because soon enough she won't be pregnant anymore, and besides, Alex is busy with college applications and all that.
The nurse told Lorelai over the phone that she would need a ride afterwards. "You shouldn't operate a vehicle," the nurse said, and Lorelai asked, "What kind of a vehicle?" She wasn't being obnoxious. She just wanted to know. "You can't drive," the nurse said shortly, and Lorelai said, "Yeah, you're right, I can't drive, because, you know, my sister." She proceeded to explain about her dads and Alex and the time she took the Impala out for a joyride when she was eleven, until she realized the nurse didn't care, so Lorelai told her she'd get a cab and hung up. Christopher hasn't returned her calls the last seventy times, so whatever.
When the day finally arrives, she thinks she should feel worse about this, and she does, a little. But she also knows that this baby will be better off without her, so she's okay too. Sort of.
What she doesn't know is that Alex is outside the school, waiting for her, when classes are over. She's sitting in some dumpy old Volkswagen that she probably borrowed from one of her geek friends. "Get in," Alex says, and Lorelai does.
They don't speak. Lorelai doesn't tell Alex where to go, but Alex finds her way there, and as they wait for Lorelai's fake name to be called, Lorelai digs a hole in the cheap carpet with her toe until Alex tells her to stop. She's ruining her shoes.
Like Lorelai cares about her shoes right this second.
"You're wearing my shoes," Alex says, and Lorelai raises her hand to hit Alex, but instead she just grabs a fistful of her shirt and clenches it until the nurse calls her in.
Alex offers to come in with her, hold her hand, but the nurse frowns and says that's not done, so Lorelai goes alone and it hurts. They tell you it's only a small pressure, but it hurts, a dull crampy pain, and it makes her want to throw up but she can't because she hasn't eaten anything all day.
When she comes out, Alex takes her hand and they walk together back to the car.
Alex never tells her how she found out, and Lorelai never asks.
iii.
When they were real little, one of their dads would go on a hunt alone while the other one stayed with them in the motel. Then they got older, and now Alex and Lorelai are allowed to stay in the room by themselves while their dads do their jobs.
It's scary; Alex doesn't like the dark, she doesn't like being alone. She doesn't like the thought of her dads getting hurt out there in the wilderness, and it's harder to miss both Dad and Daddy at the same time. But she knows it's better, safer, for her dads to go hunting together than to go alone. They'd watch each other, like Alex watches Lorelai.
Daddy and Dad always puts Alex in charge when they're out on a hunt. This means Alex is the boss of Lorelai, and if Alex doesn't want to watch Nightmare on Elm Street, Lorelai should turn off the TV and brush her teeth and go to sleep.
Lorelai, it seems, is having trouble understanding that.
"I want to watch this movie," she yells, jumping on the bed and holding the remote over her head.
"You've already seen this movie, like, ten times!" Alex yells back. She tackles Lorelai onto the mattress and makes a grab for the remote, but Lorelai is squirmy and slippery like a just-cooked noodle and she wriggles out of Alex's grasp and makes a dash for the door.
"Stop! Lorelai, you're not supposed to leave the room!" Daddy and Dad are serious about this. It's the number one rule. They aren't allowed to open the door to strangers, or even people whose voices sound familiar, because they could be shape-shifters. No one, period.
But it is too late. Lorelai has already disappeared down the hall, and Alex doesn't know whether to follow her or to follow the rule and stay put. Dad and Daddy will be so mad if they find out Alex broke the rules. So mad and so disappointed, which is worse than mad.
But if Lorelai gets kidnapped or killed or eaten by bears, Dad and Daddy will be even more mad.
Alex props the door slightly open with one of Dad's sweat socks and goes outside to look. She takes the back stairs and checks the vending machines, the arcade, even the tiny pool in the back with its chocolate milk colored-water. She asks the people at the front desk if they've seen Lorelai, and the older, fatter man shrugs and says, "Dunno. Maybe check the 7-Eleven down the block."
It's dark outside except for the neon green and pink lights that make the sign for PALM SPRINGS MOTEL. There are no palm trees or hot springs anywhere near the motel, and the light just makes Alex's stomach churn.
She runs the whole way to the 7-Eleven, thinking the whole way about Lorelai, just Lorelai, nothing except Lorelai, because if Alex thought about anything else, she'd lose her nerve and turn around. There are only about a million ways she (and Lorelai) can get killed out there.
Lorelai isn't at the 7-Eleven, so Alex runs back to the motel, back to up the stairs to her room, thinking, Lorelai's dead, Lorelai's been kidnapped and raped and killed and it's all my fault.
The door's closed.
The TV is blaring from inside.
Alex pounds on the door until it opens, and Lorelai's there, hugging an economy-sized bag of Doritos, her lips covered with orange cheese dust. "Say the magic word," she says, grinning at Alex with orange teeth as she tries to close the door again.
Alex shoves the door open and knocks the chips out of Lorelai's hands.
"Hey!" Lorelai protests, but Alex cuts her off by shaking her by the shoulders and screaming as loud as she can, louder than she has ever screamed, even louder than the time she and Lorelai got cornered by a hellhound and had to scream for their dads, "You stupid jerk! I thought you were dead! You stupid, dumb, jerkface asshole."
Lorelai looks stunned. "Hey," she says finally, "that's the first time I've heard you swear. I'm telling Dad and Daddy."
"I hate you," Alex says, but what she really wants to say is, Don't leave me.
iv.
For a lesbian, Alex is very, very bad at oral sex.
It's not something they talk about because, hello, awkward. When the person you're fucking is your sister, and when your sister is Alexandra Winchester, the last thing you want to do is to criticize her technique, because (a) again, awkward, and (b) Alex will bite your face off.
Literally. Not in a poorly-edited Harlequin novel metaphor type of way.
Alex fucks like she's trying to forget.
Sometimes Lorelai looks at her, head arched back and eyes clenched tight and throat tilted high like some generous offering to the citizens of Salem's Lot, how could she be possibly deriving pleasure from any of this. Sometimes Lorelai is sure Alex isn't getting any pleasure from this, and it makes Lorelai angry for no reason, so Lorelai fucks her harder and harder until she comes, her climax always short and brief, almost violent.
They're in the middle of Texas when Lorelai discovers that her sister has never had sex in a car. She's not too surprised, because it's Alex, but still. Everyone has had sex in a car. It's the quintessential experience, shared by youths across America.
"The situation never arose," Alex explains, unfazed.
Alex has never had sex in a car, but she's had sex with her sister. There are so many things wrong with that sentence Lorelai cannot even begin.
Anyway, the point is, and Lorelai tells her, "The situation clearly needs to be remedied."
Lorelai stops in the middle of a field of bluebonnets, and after a few elbows in the face and near-fractured ribs and way too much pressure on that one spot, Lorelai helps her sister make up for her deprived adolescence.
"You have a mole on the back of your thigh," Lorelai informs Alex, interrupting Alex's assessment of how car sex is generally uncomfortable and largely overrated.
"What?"
"You never had it before." Lorelai knows this because they took baths together when they were little, went skinny dipping in hotel pools whenever they could get away without their dads knowing. So it was disconcerting. Not cancerous, but still disconcerting.
At least it's a mole, Lorelai tells herself, and not a tattoo that said, "I love Olivia (or insert any other name here)."
"Weird," Alex says, and leaves it at that.
The bluebonnets are bobbing in the wind like pixies in purple dresses, and they're so beautiful that Lorelai can't resist. She picks about two dozen before a park ranger comes up to them and tells them that it's against the law to pick the flowers and basically chases them out of there.
"Where are we headed next?" Alex is driving and therefore unable to wiggle away as Lorelai tries to tuck a bluebonnet into her hair.
"California," Lorelai says, and starts singing the Phantom Planet song.
She's always wanted to have sex at Disneyland.
***
Now that I've sufficiently squicked you out with sister-sex, here's a picture of the adorable little twins from when they're about six. Photoshopped by the genius Jew, as usual.
Old habits die hard, so Alex is not entirely surprised when she comes out of the bathroom and finds Lorelai sprawled across the bed Alex has designated as her own.
It's pointless to even ask, but like she said. Old habits.
"Lorelai," Alex says crossly, "why do you do this to me?"
Lorelai beams. "Because it's fun."
"Seriously, I let you pick first, and you picked the other bed. If you wanted this bed, you should've picked it. But no, you made your choice, so get off my bed and let me get some sleep." They've been on the road for a day and a half, and then spent another afternoon reducing some slimy mud-thing back into its original bio-geological components. It's surprising, really, that Alex still has enough energy to argue.
"It's not your bed," Lorelai points out. "I don't see your name on it."
Alex just stares at her. "You did not just try to use that defense."
"Try me."
Alex is too exhausted to put up a fight, so she decides instead to wake up extra early tomorrow and use up all the hot water before Lorelai takes her shower. She walks toward the other bed and begins climbing under the covers.
Lorelai makes a noise from the back of her throat that sounds like the bastard child of a growl and a whine.
Alex looks over. "What?"
Lorelai has scooted onto one side of the bed, and is patting the spot next to her, grinning earnestly.
Alex has a choice between "Oh my god, what is wrong with you?" and "Seriously, how old are you again?" but she opts for the easiest solution and makes her way over.
"Only till you're thirty," Alex tells her.
"Good," says Lorelai, settling into her pillow, "because you're afraid of the dark."
Alex gets her learner's permit first, because their dads treasure their lives, and more importantly their car, which means Daddy and Dad are only letting one of them on the road at any given time.
Alex has been statistically proven to be less likely to wrap the car around the tree on her very first drive, which means she automatically gets to be first.
"This is so not fair," Lorelai screams. She stomps up the stairs as forcefully as she can and slams the door, shutting out the sound of her dads and sister laughing.
As far as Lorelai is concerned, Alex's permit is completely wasted on her. Alex doesn't have anywhere to go, except to the library to do research, or to Safeway to pick up groceries. "I have to be in the mood to drive," she says, and Alex is never in the mood to drive whenever Lorelai needs a ride anywhere.
Which is why Lorelai never even tells Alex about the appointment. She hasn't even told Alex that she's pregnant, but she figures it's no big deal because soon enough she won't be pregnant anymore, and besides, Alex is busy with college applications and all that.
The nurse told Lorelai over the phone that she would need a ride afterwards. "You shouldn't operate a vehicle," the nurse said, and Lorelai asked, "What kind of a vehicle?" She wasn't being obnoxious. She just wanted to know. "You can't drive," the nurse said shortly, and Lorelai said, "Yeah, you're right, I can't drive, because, you know, my sister." She proceeded to explain about her dads and Alex and the time she took the Impala out for a joyride when she was eleven, until she realized the nurse didn't care, so Lorelai told her she'd get a cab and hung up. Christopher hasn't returned her calls the last seventy times, so whatever.
When the day finally arrives, she thinks she should feel worse about this, and she does, a little. But she also knows that this baby will be better off without her, so she's okay too. Sort of.
What she doesn't know is that Alex is outside the school, waiting for her, when classes are over. She's sitting in some dumpy old Volkswagen that she probably borrowed from one of her geek friends. "Get in," Alex says, and Lorelai does.
They don't speak. Lorelai doesn't tell Alex where to go, but Alex finds her way there, and as they wait for Lorelai's fake name to be called, Lorelai digs a hole in the cheap carpet with her toe until Alex tells her to stop. She's ruining her shoes.
Like Lorelai cares about her shoes right this second.
"You're wearing my shoes," Alex says, and Lorelai raises her hand to hit Alex, but instead she just grabs a fistful of her shirt and clenches it until the nurse calls her in.
Alex offers to come in with her, hold her hand, but the nurse frowns and says that's not done, so Lorelai goes alone and it hurts. They tell you it's only a small pressure, but it hurts, a dull crampy pain, and it makes her want to throw up but she can't because she hasn't eaten anything all day.
When she comes out, Alex takes her hand and they walk together back to the car.
Alex never tells her how she found out, and Lorelai never asks.
When they were real little, one of their dads would go on a hunt alone while the other one stayed with them in the motel. Then they got older, and now Alex and Lorelai are allowed to stay in the room by themselves while their dads do their jobs.
It's scary; Alex doesn't like the dark, she doesn't like being alone. She doesn't like the thought of her dads getting hurt out there in the wilderness, and it's harder to miss both Dad and Daddy at the same time. But she knows it's better, safer, for her dads to go hunting together than to go alone. They'd watch each other, like Alex watches Lorelai.
Daddy and Dad always puts Alex in charge when they're out on a hunt. This means Alex is the boss of Lorelai, and if Alex doesn't want to watch Nightmare on Elm Street, Lorelai should turn off the TV and brush her teeth and go to sleep.
Lorelai, it seems, is having trouble understanding that.
"I want to watch this movie," she yells, jumping on the bed and holding the remote over her head.
"You've already seen this movie, like, ten times!" Alex yells back. She tackles Lorelai onto the mattress and makes a grab for the remote, but Lorelai is squirmy and slippery like a just-cooked noodle and she wriggles out of Alex's grasp and makes a dash for the door.
"Stop! Lorelai, you're not supposed to leave the room!" Daddy and Dad are serious about this. It's the number one rule. They aren't allowed to open the door to strangers, or even people whose voices sound familiar, because they could be shape-shifters. No one, period.
But it is too late. Lorelai has already disappeared down the hall, and Alex doesn't know whether to follow her or to follow the rule and stay put. Dad and Daddy will be so mad if they find out Alex broke the rules. So mad and so disappointed, which is worse than mad.
But if Lorelai gets kidnapped or killed or eaten by bears, Dad and Daddy will be even more mad.
Alex props the door slightly open with one of Dad's sweat socks and goes outside to look. She takes the back stairs and checks the vending machines, the arcade, even the tiny pool in the back with its chocolate milk colored-water. She asks the people at the front desk if they've seen Lorelai, and the older, fatter man shrugs and says, "Dunno. Maybe check the 7-Eleven down the block."
It's dark outside except for the neon green and pink lights that make the sign for PALM SPRINGS MOTEL. There are no palm trees or hot springs anywhere near the motel, and the light just makes Alex's stomach churn.
She runs the whole way to the 7-Eleven, thinking the whole way about Lorelai, just Lorelai, nothing except Lorelai, because if Alex thought about anything else, she'd lose her nerve and turn around. There are only about a million ways she (and Lorelai) can get killed out there.
Lorelai isn't at the 7-Eleven, so Alex runs back to the motel, back to up the stairs to her room, thinking, Lorelai's dead, Lorelai's been kidnapped and raped and killed and it's all my fault.
The door's closed.
The TV is blaring from inside.
Alex pounds on the door until it opens, and Lorelai's there, hugging an economy-sized bag of Doritos, her lips covered with orange cheese dust. "Say the magic word," she says, grinning at Alex with orange teeth as she tries to close the door again.
Alex shoves the door open and knocks the chips out of Lorelai's hands.
"Hey!" Lorelai protests, but Alex cuts her off by shaking her by the shoulders and screaming as loud as she can, louder than she has ever screamed, even louder than the time she and Lorelai got cornered by a hellhound and had to scream for their dads, "You stupid jerk! I thought you were dead! You stupid, dumb, jerkface asshole."
Lorelai looks stunned. "Hey," she says finally, "that's the first time I've heard you swear. I'm telling Dad and Daddy."
"I hate you," Alex says, but what she really wants to say is, Don't leave me.
For a lesbian, Alex is very, very bad at oral sex.
It's not something they talk about because, hello, awkward. When the person you're fucking is your sister, and when your sister is Alexandra Winchester, the last thing you want to do is to criticize her technique, because (a) again, awkward, and (b) Alex will bite your face off.
Literally. Not in a poorly-edited Harlequin novel metaphor type of way.
Alex fucks like she's trying to forget.
Sometimes Lorelai looks at her, head arched back and eyes clenched tight and throat tilted high like some generous offering to the citizens of Salem's Lot, how could she be possibly deriving pleasure from any of this. Sometimes Lorelai is sure Alex isn't getting any pleasure from this, and it makes Lorelai angry for no reason, so Lorelai fucks her harder and harder until she comes, her climax always short and brief, almost violent.
They're in the middle of Texas when Lorelai discovers that her sister has never had sex in a car. She's not too surprised, because it's Alex, but still. Everyone has had sex in a car. It's the quintessential experience, shared by youths across America.
"The situation never arose," Alex explains, unfazed.
Alex has never had sex in a car, but she's had sex with her sister. There are so many things wrong with that sentence Lorelai cannot even begin.
Anyway, the point is, and Lorelai tells her, "The situation clearly needs to be remedied."
Lorelai stops in the middle of a field of bluebonnets, and after a few elbows in the face and near-fractured ribs and way too much pressure on that one spot, Lorelai helps her sister make up for her deprived adolescence.
"You have a mole on the back of your thigh," Lorelai informs Alex, interrupting Alex's assessment of how car sex is generally uncomfortable and largely overrated.
"What?"
"You never had it before." Lorelai knows this because they took baths together when they were little, went skinny dipping in hotel pools whenever they could get away without their dads knowing. So it was disconcerting. Not cancerous, but still disconcerting.
At least it's a mole, Lorelai tells herself, and not a tattoo that said, "I love Olivia (or insert any other name here)."
"Weird," Alex says, and leaves it at that.
The bluebonnets are bobbing in the wind like pixies in purple dresses, and they're so beautiful that Lorelai can't resist. She picks about two dozen before a park ranger comes up to them and tells them that it's against the law to pick the flowers and basically chases them out of there.
"Where are we headed next?" Alex is driving and therefore unable to wiggle away as Lorelai tries to tuck a bluebonnet into her hair.
"California," Lorelai says, and starts singing the Phantom Planet song.
She's always wanted to have sex at Disneyland.
***
Now that I've sufficiently squicked you out with sister-sex, here's a picture of the adorable little twins from when they're about six. Photoshopped by the genius Jew, as usual.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-04-07 07:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-07 07:47 pm (UTC)Haha, your assumptions are entirely correct. It's not chutzpah, just sheer insanity and a love for fucking with people's heads :D
no subject
Date: 2007-04-07 08:15 pm (UTC)