mangacat201: (Devil's eyesight)
[personal profile] mangacat201
Title: Vertigo
Author: Mangacat(201)
Fandoms: Supernatural/iZombie xover
Pairing/Characters: Sam, Dean, Liv Moore
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~1600
Disclaimer: I own neither Supernatural nor iZombie and don’t make a claim to their creative or economic profit. Just shoveling in the sandbox for a bit, I’ll give them back after playing. Promise.

Warnings/Spoilers: Morgue-life related ick, hunter-life related mentions of violence

Summary: Liv Moore thought that – given she’s a zombie now – she’d seen all the weird there was and could imagine the rest. Two guys breaking into her morgue to steal the blood of the dead did not make the list. But here they are.


A/N: I admit when I got bought out at the [livejournal.com profile] fandomaid for Nepal charity auction, I was so excited about the fact itself and my prompts too. Then real life hit, and with it a predictable and annoying case of writer’s block, BUT I finally sat my ass down and got down to it. So… this is my iZombie xover charity fic for [livejournal.com profile] liliaeth, which I hope she likes. I don’t think you need to know about the respective shows very well to be able to follow it, except maybe that iZombie loves to use voice-over narration, which I’ve incorporated here with the //-bits. Enjoy!




// I can’t believe I’m saying this about my life, but while my “affliction of the undead persuasion” as Ravi likes to call Zombiism when he’s feeling particularly British continues to upend it on a regular basis, things have, well, normalized, I guess. //

“No, I’m telling you, Clive, there was something hinky about that security guard at the store, but I don’t have a clearer picture than that…”
Liv walks into the morgue’s office cubicle with her cell wedged between cheek and shoulder while she rifles through the files on the hunt for their current case.
“… no, I’m at the morgue to get another look at the file, there must be something we missed… yes, I know it’s way after hours, but what’s going to happen to me here, the Dead rising from their closed metal lockers?” Liv snickers quietly to herself when Clive huffs in irritation on the other end of the line. All the morgue and Zombie jokes are going to come back and bite her in the ass if they ever end up telling Clive the truth about Seattle’s undead infestation, but she just can’t resist.
It’s a coping mechanism.
“I’m fine, put your paranoid cop brain to rest once in a while, would you? I think I got the file, I’m going to call you back when I’ve got something, alright?”

// I’ve actually been able to use my questionable “gift” to help solve quite a number of murders and if I’ve had to thoroughly adjust my definition of weird in the process, I figure it’s part of the new inhuman experience. I’ve realized one thing: Life doesn’t have to pass you by, just because you’re dead. //

Liv slides her cellphone back into her handbag and makes to spread the file out on the desk when a metallic clang just outside makes her jump. It’s not enough of a fright to make her undead heart beat faster, but it’s enough for her brain to latch onto and retrace her steps to where she absent-mindedly entered the morgue and… didn’t flip the light switches because the lights were already on when she walked in.

Suddenly, the joke about the Dead rising from the cooling lockers sounds way less funny, especially since it’s statistically likely to happen one of these days. Liv berates herself for going to the worst-case scenario instantly since there are a hundred innocuous reasons for the sound or the fact that the lights were on. Still, she slowly creeps around the office door and towards the operating theatre, picking up some tools on the way to improvise weapons if necessary.

When she peeks around the corner into the storage unit, there are two guys bent over the body on the slab of an open locker. Liv turns back, so she won’t be spotted if they happen to look up and thinks fast. She actually hadn’t considered that other new zombies might have the idea to try the morgue for their supply of brains as well, but she should have. Still, there’s two strange men in her morgue, fiddling with the bodies entrusted into her care and that is so not on. If they really turn out to be Newbie-Z’s, she’ll figure out a way to help them, but first she has to know what brought them here.

“Stop what you’re doing and step away from the body.”
The two men straighten up with fast reflexes and when they turn towards her, Liv notes that one is tall and the other is a giant and they both look surprised to see her, but not rattled in the slightest. So much for her authority voice. She tries again with more emphasis.
“What are you doing here, and don’t try any funny business with me, I’ve got a bone-saw”,… and Full-On-Zombie-Mode, but there’s no way Liv is going to go there unless it’s a last resort.

The one with the short hair and the very, very attractive face – // Focus, Liv! // – lifts his hands in a placating gesture and smiles with roguish charm that probably works on a lot of girls in a lot of bars.
“Well, this is awkward. But there’s no need for that bone-saw really, we’re not here to cause trouble.”
“Considering I found you in the city morgue, where you’re clearly not authorized to be, tampering with a body and possibly evidence in an open investigation, I’d say it’s you who’s going to be in trouble. Especially since I’ve already called this in to the police seeing as I’ve got a Seattle PD homicide detective, who I’ve got on speed dial, because he’s my partner.”

That gets their attention, and Liv belatedly realizes that would have been a great call to actually make before confronting the intruders, but her bluff will have to do for now. That’s when she sees the really big guy sneak a syringe into his jacket pocket that is filled with a liquid that looks suspiciously like…
“Wait, what have you got there, is that blood? Why would you take blood from this body?”

“Look, really, we’re just about finished and will be out of your hair in no time, with absolutely no tampering, just a little blood that this guy here isn’t going to miss, promise.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so! We’re waiting right here until my partner arrives with back-up and I’m sure he’ll have quite a few interesting questions to ask you, for example, why on earth you would break into a morgue to steal blood from a body.”
Pretty Boy takes a step towards Liv with his hands still up, but stops in his tracks when she brandishes the saw with a menacing whir.
“Lady, I could explain that to you…”
“Yes, I’m listening.”
“… but you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you the truth.”

Liv feels a déjà vu of many many conversations she’s ended with those very same words spooling off in her head in those past few months. Somehow that very feeling makes her think that the man in front of her believes them to be true as well.
“Trust me when I say that my life has gained so many shades of weird in the past six months, I’m positive that you could hit me with your best shot and still not hit the top ten. Come on, try me.”
They share a look at that contains half-rolled eyes and waggled eyebrows and makes Liv feel like she’s missing a whole conversation there, but in the end the Giant clears his throat and explains in what Liv intimately knows as the ‘Bad News for Frazzled Relatives’-Voice.

“We’re Hunters and we’re in town because a bunch of vampires have been dropping bodies down at the docks for a couple of weeks. We need Dead Man’s Blood to slow them down long enough to safely clean out the nest and the morgue happened to be en route from our hotel.”
“Vampires…” an involuntary snort of laughter escapes Liv at the idea, which is ridiculous to say the least. “Come on, what’s your real excuse, because this is just too cliché.”
But they both neither smile nor offer up any other explanation.
“Wait, you’re serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Pretty Boy answers.
“Ok, I have to give it to you – that would actually make the top ten if it had even a half percent chance of being true, but…”
“… not flying with you?”
“Oh Hell no, it’s not flying with me.”

Pretty Boy shoots his partner a look while Giant shrugs as if to say ‘It was worth a shot’ before sighing and reaching behind his back to take out a shiny pistol and levelling it directly at Liv’s head. Giant breathes in sharply and starts saying “De…” before a quick shake of Pretty Boy’s head shuts him up.
“Now, I didn’t want to resort to this kind of threat, especially towards such a fine young lady who’s only trying to do her job. Unfortunately, I have my job to do and these days, I’m low on patience when it’s about getting things done. So, I suggest you take a couple of steps aside and stay there until we’ve walked past and nobody loses a finger or catches a bullet. We leave this place like we were never here and forget we even spoke. Sound fair?”

Giant slowly slides the slab back into the locker and closes the door, obviously taking the leave-it-as-you-found-it literally while Pretty Boy keeps his gun pointed at Liv without even the slightest tremor in his hand. Liv considers for a moment to try and take them out in Full-On-Zombie-Mode, but she remembers with painful clarity that she might shake off a bullet to the thigh easy enough, but if he goes for a headshot, they’ll leave one pretty very red-eyed corpse for Ravi to find in the morning. No matter what crazy reason they actually had for breaking in, it’s not worth the risk and she can’t see that they’ve taking anything but a bit of blood. So, she does the only thing she can do, step aside to clear the entryway and hold up her hands in plain sight while the two men step around her with the muzzle of the gun effortlessly trained on her until the door closes behind them.

// I could not convince myself that they were never even there, especially since the vampire excuse became uncomfortably probable once three decapitated corpses landed on our tables that all showed a very odd dental anomaly when we took their x-ray for identification. Plus, their brains gave me no visions, but a terrible bout of indigestion. Don’t ask. But the human mind is surprisingly capable at blocking out things it doesn’t want to process and I think I’m not ready to know whether I’m really the scariest monster out there or not. I have the uncanny feeling, however, that there will come a point where I won’t have a choice in the matter. I’ll definitely be ready to give the creepy crawlies a run for their money, though. //
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