Supernatural ONESHOTS

Beautifully Reckless (Two)

"Hues?" Cliff's brows knotted, confused.

"No, Hughes. With a 'gh' but said like, 'hues'." You corrected him, then adding on, "Yep, Old man Hughes. He was a simple man, a wackadoo for fire though."

"He enjoyed the flames a little too much, cost 'im his family. Burnt the house down. He was screamin' 'the voices made 'im do it.' How he died was well, sickening to the folks 'round here. Drank a liter of gasoline, cut his mouth wide open, threw a lighted match down his throat, and combusted into flames."

Cliff's spine almost gave out, "Jesus." He almost swallowed his own tongue. "That's pretty fucked up."

"That ain't the worst part honey." You looked at him, "No one knows how he got the gasoline into the wards."

"Vistors?"

You shook your head, "None that've ever seen."

Cliff hummed, then asked. "How do ya' know so much 'bout him?"

You blinked, in surprise. "Everyone knows 'bout 'im. And he's story, worse case of denial and schizophrenia the doctors ever seen here," You felt a chill run down your spine, as if someone else- something else was caressing your spine, tenderly and tightly.

"Ah," Cliff nodded, those wild eyes dancing along yours, "How long was he here?"

You licked your lips, an odd habit you developed when you thought, "Mhm, 15- no wait, 20. He's was in here for 20 years."

"Damn," Cliff's chest tightened, feeling that same something else caressing his own spine. "So he was committed here in '95?"

"Ecxalty. Meet 'im in 2012. He was about, 42." You smiled slightly at the awkward memory when you first saw him, an old shivered up grumpy man with peppery and sugary hair with small copper-tinted eyes. Sitting in the corner, reading. Peaceful but troubled, within.

You didn't believe that he was crazy, that he was a 'firebug' or that he killed his family, but you've kept that part to yourself. But, the papers, the people, the police, doctors, and even the FBI argues differently, of course facts and data proving them right.

Then again, never judge a book by it's cover.

But you always studied him, for 3 years. Noticing these little things about him, like the way his eyes would suffocate themselves in his old novels, how his pulse beat angrily when accused of lying and well, murder. The gentle manners he had for nurses, doctors, even the loose-batshit crazy wackadoos arounf here. How he always prayed, every night before lights out.

He told you about his children, Riley and Axl. Twin girls, beautiful little toddlers with chubby legs, long blonde and hair, and teeth-less grins. And his wife, Wendy, a short woman, with soft golden hair, big brown eyes that only held kindness, the loveliest and airiest giggles he's ever heard.

"Hm." Cliff mused, noticing the small smile on your lips. "Fond of 'im?"

"In a way," Green met Y/C/E's.

Cliff studied you, a bit captive and disturbed by your persona, your wounds.

"He was just, ya know. Fun to watch, I guess." You mumbled, suddenly grasping ahold of yourself- you had just, explained to him. How you felt, how nice you were to him.

Cliff opened his plush mouth but another deep voice boomed, "Dean!"

Cliff's eyes snapped over towards the front doors, thick and bleak metal doors. And a freakishly tall man, stood there. Pampered brown hair, fanned over his sharp features, his nostrils flared and his pulse beating.

"Fuck." Cliff murmured.

"What?" You stared at Cliff, wondering why he would react to the name Dean? You tested the name, watching as Cliff, his eyes widen slightly, the smirk faded, and his jaw tensed. Who the hell is Dean?

"Cliff, who's Dean?" You asked, knotted with confusion.

Oh fuck, Cliff thought.

The freakishly tall man, with thick white scrubs stalked quickly over to you, facing Cliff with a 'cut the bullshit' attitude. "De-."

"AH!" Cliff exclaimed, happily. Making you jump slightly."Kirk? My God. You're okay."

Kirk towered over you and Cliff. Big sweet dough eyes and a sweet sharp chin with an annoyed tone, foreshadowing that depth of his anger. "What are yo-"

"Ah, Y/N is my cousin, Kirk Hammett." Cliff gestured to his cousin, whom awkwardly looked at you. "Kirk meet Y/N, she's been here for a while." Then back at Cliff, draggers slicing through his jawline and throat.

"Heya honey." You smirked at the tall man, even a blind could tell he was something worth stealing glances at, but his cousin Cliff, damn that boy, a masterpiece. A sin.

"... Hello." Kirk's throat tightened, "Cliff. Could I speak to you, alone?" Kirk's hazel eyes drilling into Cliff's, angrily.

"Mhm, later?" Cliff chuckled, carefreely and smirked. "I'm kinda talkin-"

"Now." Kirk's voice grew like an angry tree, sprouting with leaves and twigs of annoyance.

Cliff stood up, patting Kirk's shoulder, then looking down at you, "Excuse us, baby-doll." Cliff smirked.

You watched them walk away, those careless scrubs found a way to perfectly highlight each muscle and curve on those boys- men, biting your chapped bottom lip, you looked back at the wall.

-

"What the hell Dean!" Sam seethed, almost pushing Dean against the wall.

"What?" Dean smirked, slightly. "Why are you so pissy Sam?"

"Why are you in here, you stupid son-of-a-bit-" Sam's words were haulted at Dean's chuckle.

"Well, you're in here too. Stupid."

Closing his eyes, he forced himself not to slit Dean's throat or slam his head into the back wall. Sam almost chipped his own front tooth, "Why." More of demand than a question.

"Well, one, I'm workin'." Dean smiled, "and I was kinda thrown in here,"

Sam's pulse twitched. "What?"

Dean what the fuck did you do now, Sam's mind was running crazily with horror and unbelievable ideas.

"'For screamin' about the voices in my head.'" Dean chuckled, "Dude, you should've seen the faces some made, oh my god. It was-"

"Pretty damn stupid, Dean!" Sam snapped, outraged with his brothers careless attitude and 'easy-going' tone. "You just got thrown in here for no re-"

"Calm down little boy," Dean patted Sam's shoulder, smirking. "Daddy's bringin home the goods."

Sam felt his entire body twitch with rage, "With what? The crazy lady over there you were buttering up?"

"Maybe." With that, Dean smoothly walked pass Sam's overpowering figure.

"There's no case here, ya' God forsaken numb nut!"

"Bitch." Dean mused, a playful glint shading the mossy irises.

"Jerk." Sam muttered under his breath, his head throbbing with an angry scream to escape but his soul and heart whispering to believe and help.

(part 3??)