Surge: The Taste of Poison

Prologue: Blood and Glass

A U T H O R ' S   N O T E:

This is a Supernatural fanfiction, but it's a stand-alone. It doesn't follow the plot to a tee, but contains the same characters (besides Lily and potentially a few other extras.) and trots along the general timeline of the actual show. 

THIS CHAPTER IS SHORT, BUT THE OTHERS WILL BE LONGER.

Special thanks to WolfsbaneWriter for not only this format but for the idea that inspired this story. 

One Year Ago 

Glass.

So fragile, so beautiful, yet potentially so lethal.

It had never occurred to Lily that she'd be brought to her knees by something so pathetic, but as her silver blood blossomed across her black Cranberries' shirt, she realized it was more than appropriate for filth like her. An end like this had been foreseeable from the start, after all.

"Coward." She murmured, and looked up. The blood was in her teeth, the taste on her tongue as it flooded up from her throat. There was a smirk on her face, but the light in her eyes was flickering, the only thing keeping it there was the rage that made her weakened body shake.

Across the room, a man sank to the dusty warehouse floor, his knees acquainting themselves with the cement. The green eyes - such a defining quality - were watering and already regret pooled. Inside, things were clicking as he began to realize that here was yet another skeleton to be thrown into his closet.

His hands were bound, and the one who did the binding stood above Lily. There was a smirk on his face as well, but it was far more sadistic than that of a dying woman's. There was a shard of glass in his hands, tainted by silver blood. It was this weapon that had finally put the final nail in her casket.

"At least I'll be walking out of this room," The killer spoke simply, and dropped the glass on the floor. It shattered where it hit, the noise thundering across the quiet room, "I believe that you won't be so lucky, Lily."

She spit her blood at him and leered, breath racking through her body violently. "Take you beliefs and leave, Alistaire. When, and I mean when, not if, I get out of here, I will find you and kill you." 

The demon grinned and said nothing, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt and turning to leave. There was no way, he thought to himself, that she would ever make it out of that room, and across the cement, another man thought the same thing.

Alistaire left with a flourish, and the man shuffled towards Lily, catching her head as she fell backwards. Clear tears made tracks down her face, wetting the pale skin illuminated by faint moonlight in the windows. The words "I'm so sorry about this." were handed to the dying woman.

Her knees unfurled and Lily lay straight onto the cement, her head nestled in the man's lap. "Don't apologize," she murmured quietly, voice cracking like the glass that had struck the final blow, "I understand why you couldn't save me, Dean. I would have done the same."

There was water on both of their faces, the burn of salty tears trailing across their tender flesh, and the man's brother lay unconscious across the room, unaware of what had just occurred in the attempt to rescue him. Bliss was painted on his resting face, but the expression wouldn't last when he finally awoke.

Lily reached up, her fingers brushing across his cheek. "Cherish your brother, Dean. Keep your family close, and avenge my death. Make sure this blood here, on my shirt, has not been spilled for nothing." 

Her eyes closed and he held her for a moment, before setting her head onto the cold floor and rose to make his way towards his brother, who was stirring.

Dean helped his brother up, and together the beaten Winchester brothers made their way from the room, leaving Lily's already cooling body in a pool of her own silver blood, pieces of glass decorating the ground around her.

Only hours after they had gone, a breath was gulped.