If I won the lottery I'd probably load up on a lot of weapons. My main goal would still be the same, tracking down and killing the son of a bitch who's been terrorizing Gabe and Sam and Emily. The yellow eyed demon had been on my radar for a long time before I met Gabe but you could say that I've become borderline obsessive since then. And don't judge me, nobody is gonna get that except for maybe Dean. So that's what I would do, I would use the money to try and step up my game with the demon. Hell, I'll build my own fucking army if that's what I have to do.

After the demon is dead I'd use the rest of the money to buy a house and take a little vacation from demon hunting. I think that will always be a part of my life but I know that eventually Gabe is gonna want to settle it down and maybe start a family. I know it's weird but I kind of think that might be nice. I bet we'd be good parents.

"I don't even know you." The sullen sixteen year old pointed out from the passenger seat of a car that had to be older than dirt. "You don't know me."

"That's true." Matt Warner replied easily as he fiddled around with the radio station as the two sat in downtown Brooklyn traffic.

"Okay. So what's the deal? You lookin' for a little side dish or something?" Rachel asked.

"What? No, Rachel. You really don't get it. I know what happened to you. I know all about the demons and your father and his gambling debts. I know why you robbed that store and I'm giving you a way out."

Rachel quirked an eyebrow in Matt's direction. If there was one thing that she had learned in the last sixteen years it was that nobody was to be trusted, not even her own parents. Nobody wanted to help anyone else out, they all just wanted to use each other, push each other down until there was nothing left. Rachel hadn't trusted Matt since the moment she saw him, not even long enough to be grateful that he had bailed her out of the city jail. At least the jail was warm and they served you three regular meals everyday. No one bothered Rachel there and she didn't bother anyone else.

"How?" Was her only response, finding herself unable to ask any questions beyond that.

"Three years ago I was one of New York's finest. That was when a case showed up on my desk that didn't really make any sense. Reports of kids being taken right from their bedrooms here in the city. They returned home in a few days and within a week their parents were dead." He snickered a little bit but not because anything he was saying was funny. "Long story short, I found out there's another whole world in New York. NYPD didn't really see things my way though. They said I was delusional."

"The kids? They were demons." Rachel muttered.

"Yeah. Eventually, they were. I just couldn't let it go and I've been keeping an eye on the things that are a little under the police department's radar since then. So that's how I know about you, Rachel. I came to help you because I think you can help me."

"Help you do what?" Rachel asked as she folded her arms over her chest and gave him a sour look.

"Help me kill them all."

Rachel liked the sound of that.

I know, I have a problem with communication. No one ever lets me forget it. Matt used to drill it into my head and Gabe, well Gabe is different. We communicate on a whole different level. I don't necessarily say everything out loud and that's because of the way I grew up I guess. Although I still think it's just part of my personality. Not everything needs to be said outloud anyways. The worst sentence to ever escape out of anyone's mouth is "Can we talk?". No, we can't talk. I can go kill things and we can go our separate ways.

Gabe's abilities used to drive me crazy. At first I was just dragging him around with me everywhere I went to try and bait that yellow eyed bitch so I could kick his ass. And then after awhile he would just say outloud what I was thinking or sometimes he'd answer a question I hadn't asked outloud. I hated it. It was an invasion of privacy as far as I was concerned.

But after awhile I got used to it, at least that's what I tell him. In reality, after awhile I kind of liked it. Not many people can just tell what you're thinking and at least with Gabe he never demands that I start saying things outloud because he just knows.

So screw communication. Who needs it anyways?

Muse: Rachel Fuentes (OC)
Fandom: Supernatural
Artist: Flyleaf
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 781

( Sorrow last through this night. I'll take this piece of you and hold for all eternity. For just one second I felt whole as you flew right through me. )

Ghosts? They're a piece of cake. A little rock salt, a little exoricms, a little burning some corpses. Ghosts are sometimes tricky at first cause you gotta figure out their motivation for doing things. Like you have this ghost who's only offing a bunch of stick figure blondes. Well, maybe his mom was Malibu Barbie and she really pissed him off before he died. There's all kinds of reasons for angry spirits to exist but in the end? You pretty much just burn their bones and call it a night.

Those ghosts are easy and when you blow out of town you can feel good about the job that you did while you were there. Because other people don't know how to deal with stuff like that. I'm good with those ghosts. It's the other kind of ghosts that I suck at dealing with a little more. Like the one that stares back at you through your father's eyes in the mirror. I try my best to ignore it but sometimes I still hear his voice, especially when I'm freaked out. Matt's voice followed me around for a long time too but I don't hear him as much anymore. I guess that means I'm finally over everything that went down in New York.

It bothers me that I never hear my mother, never see her looking back at me in the mirror. I look a lot more like my dad than I do her but still. She's a part of me somewhere. She's been dead for a really long time but I still wonder about her. I wonder if my dad ever wonders about her. Maybe she's too busy haunting him.

I didn't grow up like normal people. I've probably said that before but I don't like to think about it too much. It's part of me, it's part of what makes me me. I think if I'd grown up like everyone else I wouldn't be carrying around a shotgun chasing after demons. I don't know what I would be. When I was four years old I wanted to be a ballerina so maybe that's what I would be right now. I know, you're laughing about that, I'm laughing too just trying to picture me up on stage in a fucking tutu.

None of that really matters because the what ifs didn't happen. The actuality of it was that I was underground for years. Twelve years exactly and everyday I learned a little bit more about them. They thought I was just a harmless little girl, that I couldn't ever be a threat to one of them but if you keep a harmless little girl in chains long enough and make her watch she learns a thing or two. And that's what I did, I watched them and I waited until I thought they would be vulnerable. I knew that one day they would let their guard down enough for an attack.

And just like I knew they would, they left themselves wide open to an assault. I was sixteen years old when I fought them and won, twelve years of living underground- slaving for them, whoring for them, providing them with whatever use they could find for a human child. I set their nest on fire and then I clawed my way above ground. It was night time, but I remember the moon that night. I remember it because it was the first time I'd seen it in over a decade.

Now every time I see the moon I think about that night.

Artist: Flyleaf
Album: Flyleaf

1. I'm So Sick
2. Fully Alive
3. Perfect
4. Cassie
5. Sorrow
6. I'm Sorry
7. All Around Me
8. Red Sam
9. There For You
10. Breathe Today
11. So I Thought





( lyrics )

She's tries so hard to shake it, all of the anger and fear wrapped up in Gabe's possession. She doesn't fear Gabe or even what he could have or would have done. The only thing she's afraid of in the whole world is a monster with brilliant yellow eyes who crawls into the minds of "his children". That doesn't work for Rachel, Gabe is her's and she's never been very good at sharing. There's never been anything so strong that within a few confrontations she wasn't able to beat it. Even as a kid she spent years studying her captors and planning how to take them all out, only waiting until she was old enough and strong enough to do so.

She lacks the patience she once had as a child and now the only thing she's bloodthirsty for is revenge. She knocks over bars and old houses, searches for spooks in cemeteries and monsters under the bed. She's turned cities inside out looking for the demon who is hell bent on making Gabe, Sam and Emily is his own. Rachel's not letting him have them, not on her watch, not ever.

"You're gonna have to kill me first." She mutters as she makes her way through another bar, another cold trail, another dead end. She's being damn near reckless and she knows it but she can't help it. Gabe won't even look her in the eye anymore and the weight that had once tied her firmly to the human race is gone. Instead she's back in the shoes of who she once was. A monster killer. A monster. Killer.

She knows that it's a weakness, the heart that beats beneath her chest, the way she feels. It will get her killed one day. But she doesn't care, as long as she takes the demon down with her.

Rachel has never seen anything that looks like Centralia before. She's heard it tossed around before, so casually ever since she was old enough to go to church. Her parents might have been immigrants who barely spoke the language when they first arrived but they were also Catholic. Some of Rachel's earliest memories are surrounded by tales of fire and brimstone. Hell. The beasts she fights for a living are supposedly from there, and she sends them back with her shotgun.

For all the talk of it Rachel has never been sure that a true hell exists. She's never really thought about it too hard until she started to pass over the cracked roadways with steam rising steadily from the pavement due to the coal fire beneath the earth. She's never seen an act of God, but for the first time she might have been presented with enough evidence to prove that there is a hell.

"All men are brothers, like the seas throughout the world; So why do winds and waves clash so fiercely everywhere?" - Emperor Hirohito

This sounds weird, but I get demons, I do. They make sense to me. They don't give a crap about people, and they usually don't even give a crap about each other. They're evil which makes things black and white for me. See the evil thing. Shoot the evil thing. Wash, rinse and repeat. That works in my head, but people? Man, I never understand people. Once Gabe and I were on a hunt and it turned out this guy was raising spirits to kill off his own daughter. He had his own deranged reasons for wanting her offed and maybe I was a little hard on the guy cause I got a little more personally invested in that situation than I should have, but what the hell? What reason is good enough for killing your own kid? I don't have kids of my own, I doubt I ever will. Who really wants to bring kids into a world as fucked up as this one? But if I did have kids? I'd never hurt them, or let anyone else hurt them. That's the point, right? You're supposed to take care of each other.

If the world was made out of marshmallow and everybody was good then maybe everybody would take care of each other. The world isn't made out of marshmallow and most people don't care about anyone but themselves. Fine. I can get down with an equation like that. Not that I'm gonna start shooting people, but if I could believe that all people were essentially evil self-serving bastards than at least I'd have a formula. Unfortunately, there's people like Gabe in the world and the few other people I've met along the way who actually do care about other people, who wanna do good things. So what am I supposed to do with that? How can I believe that everyone is out to screw me if there's a few people who aren't?

I think someone should be in charge of supplying signs, or stamps, or hell, t-shirts that tell you whether someone is a good person or a bad person. That would probably make things way too easy though.

I don't really believe in home. You can probably say that's my upbringing speaking. My first home I lived with my parents until I was four, after that I lived with a nest of demons and I would definitely not refer to that as home. After that there was when I was sharing an apartment with Matt. I guess you could call that the only place I've ever made a home. But home is supposed to be your's, it's supposed to be comfortable and by the time I left New York that apartment wasn't comfortable at all. After that I had a shitty beat up truck that I was driving around for awhile until I ran into Gabe. He's got a thing for classic cars and for reading peoples' minds, so a killing in Vegas equaled a nice classic car.

We spend a lot of time in run down motel rooms. It's just the nature of the job. While I'm out taking care of business Gabe is running his game and scamming the local people out of their cash. Some people would probably say that's wrong or whatever but I figure I'm performing a service and I'm not getting paid for it. Girl's gotta eat. Either way? I wouldn't consider those motel rooms home by any stretch of the imagination.

If anything could be considered home, it would have to be Gabe's car. He usually drives so I sit in the passenger seat. Sometimes if we're on a long drive I'll lean back and prop my feet up on the window and sleep in the sun. Every once in awhile he actually lets me drive. I spend more time there than anywhere else and if home is supposed to be where you're comfortable, it would have to be that car.

I don't give myself a lot of time to think about things. Like when Matt was stupid enough to get himself tangled up with a nest of vampires and one of them finally turned him. He thought because of the way I felt about him that I would be helpless to do nothing but let him destroy me and everything else around us. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a robot, I still feel things and seeing him like that was one of the hardest things of my entire life. Killing him, wasn't nearly as hard. Because by then my brain had shut off and I was in hunting mode. Don't think, just act.

I've never really had to deal with anything like that since. I'm not a teenager anymore and I'm almost positive that Gabe would never do something as stupid as Matt did. Which is a little funny since Matt was ten years my senior and the seasoned demon hunter out of the two of us. Gabe is, well none of those things but I trust him.

Now that he's possessed I don't know what to think about it. Is it gonna be Matt all over again? He was possessed once before but it didn't last long enough for him to take hostages or for me to even be aware of it until it was over.

I'm on auto pilot now, following Bacon, the Doc and the Winchester boys all around Centralia. Don't think, just act. But if it comes right down to it? I'm not sure I'll be strong enough to kill another person that I love. I can't give up on Gabe, I have to find a way to fix him.

I didn't really understand romance when I was a teenager. It took me a really long time (and a lot of movies) to understand what it really meant. At sixteen years old, as far as I was concerned nobody gave anything unless they wanted something from you. I'm not sure that I was a hundred percent wrong back then but I definitely wasn't a hundred percent right either.

It's weird, but I really do think I learned almost everything I know about people from TV. I never used to watch a lot of it until I met Gabe and then everytime I would mention having not seen something he would go and rent it on DVD and keep me in the motel room until we were done watching it. I know that TV isn't real but it's not like I have any other basis for comparison. There's my parents, who I barely remember. I don't know, maybe they were sweet to each other, maybe they really loved each other when I was a kid. Then there's Matt, who was stupid enough to get himself killed. Neither one of them taught me anything about romance.

Gabe likes that stuff. Always telling me that I'm pretty, and occasionally bringing me home flowers. Even though we don't live normal lives he still tries hard to work all of that romance junk in too. It's nice.

Gabe kinds thinks it's his own personal mission to educate me in the ways of pop culture. You have no idea how many old songs and movies and television shows I end up getting subjected to. Back to the Future, The Simpsons, Fraggle Rock, the list goes on and on. I think the one movie that always stood out above the rest though was Ghostbusters. Yeah, it was a cheesy 80's spoof about professors in "parapsychology" who needed to make a buck but they were the idiotic and badly dressed version of what I do.

The job will wear you out if you let it, seen it happen more than once. And we all got our own reasons for going into the line of work we that we do. Maybe it started out as revenge when I was just a kid but now it was just part of who I was and I kinda liked it. Now that I traveled with Gabe everywhere it wasn't as lonely as it was before. Just the two of us heading from town to town taking out the trash. Most people didn't even know what the two of us did and definitely couldn't do it themselves.

We're the new Ghostbusters. We may not be understood and we might be crazy but we get the job done. Let's just hope that I won't ever have to fight a giant marshmallow monster. Not sure the rocksalt would really work on that.

I opened my eyes when I felt something cold against my chest. Coughed a little bit before I really focused on the guy who was standing right over me. Instantly I swung out at him, and he backed away really quickly just missing my fist as I sat up in bed and finally realized where I was.

"It's okay. You're in the hospital." He said to me as he held his hands up in mock surrender, still not coming any closer to me.

"This is a hospital." I finally said as I finally settled my eyes on the white walls and bright lights and wall mounted television. I groaned a little bit because if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a hospital. I usually managed to stay out of them. Ending up in one generally means that you just lost, and losing always sucked.

Sighing I sank back into the bed and just looked up at him. "Yes. I'm Dr. Bradford, you were admitted here last night through the emergency room. Someone dropped you off right outside. Do you remember what happened last night?"

Unfortunately. It was all starting to come back to me now. I'd been working a routine haunting that I thought would be a piece of cake to take care of. Creepy old house, rock salt in the shotgun and a real good idea where that body was buried .

"I think I got hit by a car." I said to Doc cause as usual I had to make up another line or lie. Nobody else in the world could really handle the truth. Funny how that worked out, people were so fucking blind and it never ceased to amaze me.

Doc just nodded and made some notes on a chart that I couldn't see. "You were admitted as a Jane Doe because we couldn't ID you. What's your name?"

"Maria." I muttered listlessly. "Maria Yepez. Look, I feel fine. Can I get out of here now? I can make a call and get you my insurance numbers." Fake insurance numbers. I wasn't sure how Gabe always managed to scam us stuff like health insurance but I wasn't going to argue with it. It's not like we can hold regular jobs or afford things like insurance, but we were doing the rest of the lousy world a favor anyways.

"I'm afraid you suffered some head trauma, you won't be able to just walk out of here I'm afraid, Ms. Yepez." He informed me and I breathed out another sigh.

"Fine. Call Gabe. You have my cellphone so call him and tell him where I am."

Doc told one of the other doctors standing near the door to call Gabe on my cellphone and I let him keep poking and prodding me for a minute as I glared up at him. "You have a fractured rib and a concussion but your vitals are steady and I think you'll be just fine to go home tomorrow."

I nodded at him, thinking back to what had happened before. It should have been an easy case but instead the demon, the one after Gabe showed up and started making his threats. I should have been faster, I don't know. Even the rocksalt didn't seem to help but it never did with him. Instead I hit my head on the wall and the next thing I knew the house was on fire. It was old and had been abandoned for so long that it instantly lit up. I didn't think I was gonna make it out. How did I get out of there?

That's when I remembered the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Who the hell was that?

The best part of a hunt is the little reprieve you have afterwards. I never really stop working but I try and take a little time off to enjoy Gabe and just being alive for at least a night between jobs. Don't get me wrong, I fucking love killing demons. Someone's gotta do it and those bastards deserve to die, so it's not like I don't get a sense of satisfaction out of the job that I'm doing but sometimes it gets to you after awhile and you need to take a little break. Inevitably me and Gabe end up sitting at some redneck backwoods bar in the middle of nowhere and he buys us drinks with the money he's hustled from the good people of whatever town we've been in last.

Usually I tend to stick to beer but once in awhile Gabe manages to talk me into all kinds of drinks. We did tequila shots one night and I got so drunk we had to practically carry each other back to the motel we were staying in. I'm not a big time drinker but nothing tastes better than those celebratory drinks at the end of a hunt.

"Evil brings men together." -Aristotle

Didn't know what to make of the Winchester boy but to tell the truth? I didn't really give a crap. Don't get me wrong, I was glad Ellen sent a couple of hunters down here to help me out considering that there needed to be four of us here to get the job done but that didn't make them my problem. Sam and Emily? Not my problem. Dean? Definitely not my problem. My only concern was getting Gabe and getting the hell out of here in one piece. We stay on the move and that's how we avoid the demon. Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna kill that bitch one day but until then? We lay low.

I knocked on the front door and waited a few minutes, until I heard footsteps approaching. After a minute the door swung open and I was standing face to face with an unkempt man who was probably only a couple of years older than I was. His hair was rumpled and he was wearing a ratty terrycloth bathrobe as he looked at me through wire rimmed glass.

"Can I help you?" He finally asked me.

"Yeah." I nodded as I pulled my gun out and leveled it at his head. "Get out."

His eyes widened at me and he took a step backwards before he finally snapped into action. Jolting forward he brushed past me and went running across the lawn in his bathrobe. I almost chuckled a little bit at that but I had a job to do and well, I take it seriously. Kicking open the door wider I looked around a little bit before I finally walked in and slammed the door shut behind me.

"Alright you son of a bitch." I muttered as I headed upstairs into the master bedroom. "Let's do this." With that I started pouring gasoline all over the bed and the drapes leading a trail of it out into the hallway.

Suddenly I saw something like a blur out of the corner of my eye and I turned sharply with my gun drawn but didn't see anything. Breathing hard I shook my head and swallowed hard. I knew it was gonna come back and fuck with me eventually, I just hadn't exactly been looking forward to it. I continued pouring gasoline all over the bedrooms, and all the way down the stairs. I was in the living room when I felt the cold shiver run down my spine and I glanced up just in time to see crawling along the ceiling. It was like a pale ....person crawling on the ceiling. Only they were crawling backwards like in that stupid movie Gabe made me watch one night. The Exorcist I think. Without thinking I raised my weapon and fired off a couple of rounds at it but nothing happened.

Cursing under my breath I followed it into a small office but I didn't see it anywhere. Shaking my head I kept pouring the gasoline all over the room. There was something about the office that was creeping me out but I tried to ignore it. I kept getting drawn back to the closet though, every time I passed it, it would catch my attention again. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore so I pulled it open and wasn't all that surprised to see a dead body fall right out onto the floor at my feet. Huh. This guy wasn't as lucky as his roommate that I'd managed to scare off. Turning around I pulled the matches out of my pocket when a figure in the doorway took me off balance for a minute and I gasped.

"Rachel," She taunted me, the same figure that had been crawling on the ceiling. "You can't save him. Couldn't save Mommy, couldn't save Matt, couldn't save Daddy. They've all gone away."

I narrowed my eyes at it and fired another shot right into her chest but it went right through her. Damn spirits.

"You can't save your house." I smirked at her as I tossed the gas can to the floor so the rest of it spilled out.

"They're here, they see you. Spent so long around them, now you're one of them. No better than the things you hunt."

"I'm not afraid of you, bitch." I practically spat out at her.

"Eyes that do not see, heart that does not feel." Her voice was haunting and it almost sucked me right in, drawn into those black eyes but I knew that maybe she was right. Because that shit doesn't work on me, I was a little too much like them.

"Feel this." I said to her as I struck the match and sent my boot crashing through the window at the same time. I dropped the match just as I hurdled my way through the broken glass and onto the grass below.

By the time I picked myself back up off the ground, the house was already ablaze.

When shit like this happens I tell Gabe to stay the hell away for a reason. It's not cause I'm trying to cut him out or anything, I'm just trying to keep him safe. Cause we all know what happens when he gets near a haunted house considering I met him while trying to pull his ass out of one. I'd been investigating a whole string of them in DC and I told him to stay in the motel but by the time I came back he was gone. What the hell? How was I supposed to keep track of him if he wouldn't let me keep track of him? Called his cellphone over and over again, left at least a dozen messages before I just got fed up with it and decided to go looking for him.

Washington DC. It was nice to be in a city again, we spend so much time mucking through podunk backwoods redneck country that I started to miss a place to just disappear in. I easily made my way through the touristy places, before heading for the bars and next came anywhere where anyone might gamble. I couldn't find him anywhere and I was starting to get really pissed off along with worried. If he was okay, I was gonna kill him. I'd seen nearly everything this town had to offer, or at least any of the parts Gabe might actually pay attention to and I couldn't find him anywhere. Didn't he know that I had angry spirits to deal with? How am I supposed to do that and worry about him at the same time?

I'd made it all way back to the motel when Gabe finally called me, from some payphone asking me to meet him at the Washington Monument. Apparently he'd been arrested for something but wouldn't tell me what. He was pretty vague on the phone so I really didn't have any choice but to suck it up and head back into the city. He wanted the Washington Monument which meant that he wanted to blend in, I just wasn't sure why. And what the hell was he arrested for? I had a lot of questions to ask but I was gonna have to be patient in the getting of answers, which was annoying but at least he was okay.

It was getting dark out when I made my way across the platform towards the water, making my way past the other tourists. Teenagers snickering and making the usual penis jokes and white bread looking middle aged couples taking pictures of their baby in front of the Washington Monument. I walked past them towards the panels explaining the history behind the monument where I saw Gabe staring out into the water.

"Gabe," I hissed out at him as I finally made my way over to him. "What's going on?" I asked as I put my hand on his arm to turn him around to look at me. There was something wrong, I just didn't know what.

I had to claw my way out of the ground, just like I did the last time. My fingers grasping at dirt and mud and worms and sewage and a thousand other things that my stomach turn with the foul smell. But freedom? Freedom was worth the smell and the pain and the sludge so I kept climbing. Holding my breath like my life depended on it and by the time I reached the top and pulled myself up onto solid ground the New York rain was beating down so hard I thought it might wash me away. I look down, and I'm nothing but skin and bones and dirt. So fucking dirty. But I don't care, because I'm free.

I turn around and I'm staring into that massive fire I set, hands curled into two small fists at my sides as I watch the blaze and that's when I see it. They're like two yellow eyes staring at me from inside the flame and I can hear Gabe screaming all of a sudden. I scream his name but he just keeps yelling for help so I don't care about the fire anymore, I rush towards it. I can feel the flames starting to burn my hair, my skin and I can't see because my eyes are starting to tear up so bad. It doesn't stop me though and I keep calling out for Gabe but I can't keep going, so I fall over and then everything turns to black.

When I wake up I'm laying in my old bed at home, back at my parents' house in New York. My room still looks like a little girl's room. The doll collection sitting on top of my dresser, all of them staring at me accusingly. The one thing that's worth anything that my father hasn't sold yet.

"Usted desea lo que usted no puede tener." I can hear the deep baritone of my father's voice from the next room as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pad silently out into the living room. I can see him now, sitting with his back to me in the chair.

"What can't I have?" I ask him curiously, quietly but I don't move any closer.

"Segundas ocasiones. Para tener lo que tienen otros."

"I can have a second chance!" I suddenly yelled at him. "I don't have to rot away and die for years like you did. You killed Mama when you sent me away. How can you even live with yourself?"

"No tengo que vivir con me más, muchacha del bebé. Él me mató, él le matará también. Usted no es un salvador, Gabe pertenece a él. Usted protege los lobos."

"Daddy?" I frown taking a brave step forward but I don't have to go that far because he turns around in his chair and he grins at me. But it's not his mouth that has me so firmly transfixed, it's the bright yellow of his eyes, just like that fire.

"You can't save him, Rachel." He says to me, this time in English and it's the last thing I hear before I wake up.

//locked//

( Don't know where she belongs. She wants to go home, but nobody's home. That's where she lies, broken inside... )

//locked from Gabe and no, you can't read my mind you little bastard ;)//

( Love tears me up like a demon, opens the wounds and fills them with lead, and I'm having some trouble just breathing. If we werent such good friends I think that I'd hate you. If we weren't such good friends I'd wish you were dead. )