anonymousewrites

[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Sixteen

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Sixteen: Angel Radio

Summary: Anna is more than a woman. She's trouble.

            (Y/N) looked from the sigil to Anna and back. Slowly, Dean, Sam, and Ruby entered the room, and they paused as they saw the blood.

            “What did you…do?” said (Y/N), amazed.

            “I sent the away. Far away,” said Anna, slumping backwards onto a chair. She took deep breaths, woozy. Her blood dripped from her wrists. Dean knelt, grabbed a bandana, and tied it around her cuts.

            “How did you know how to do that?” asked (Y/N).

            “That just popped in my head,” said Anna, afraid of her own mind once more. “I don’t know how I did it. I just did it.” She looked at (Y/N). “How did I know?”

            “We…don’t know.” (Y/N) looked at Sam and Dean, who were already exchanging looks. “Just…relax. Um, Ruby can help you get bandages.”

            Ruby scowled at getting volunteered, but it was too late. (Y/N) moved to the edge of the room, eyes skimming over the sigil again. It was so powerful it threw angels away. (Y/N) wanted to remember it.

            “So, what do you think?” said Dean quietly to Sam.

            “I think Anna’s getting more interesting by the second,” said Sam.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N).

            “What did they mean by ‘she’s not innocent?’ ” said Dean, narrowing his eyes.

            “It seems like they want her bad and not just cause of the angel radio thing,” said Sam. “I mean, that blood spell—some serious crap.”

            “I think she’s not sure what’s going on,” said (Y/N). “If she’s not innocent, I don’t think she’ll know what she’s guilty of.”

            “Okay. Well, Anna may have sent the angels to the outfield, but sooner or later, they’re gonna be back,” said Dean. “We got to get ourselves safe now.”

            “Where do we go?” asked (Y/N).

            “Bobby’s,” said Dean.

            (Y/N) brightened. Oh, nice. They liked Bobby.

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            “Iron walls drenched in salt. Demons can’t even touch the joint,” said Dean.

            Anna curled up in the armchair of Bobby’s bunker.

            “Which I find racist, by the way,” said Ruby, standing right beyond the edge of the room with her arms crossed.

            “Demons don’t have a race,” said (Y/N), rolling their eyes.

            Ruby scoffed. “Here.” She tossed two bags at (Y/N), and they caught them.

            “Hex bags?” they said. Dean narrowed his eyes, ready to grab them should they prove dangerous.

            “Extra crunchy,” said Ruby. “They’ll hide us from angels, demons, all comers.”

            “Thanks, Ruby,” said Dean.

            (Y/N) shrugged and handed one to Dean and the other to Anna. They still weren’t getting comfortable around demons any time soon. “Keep this on you,” they said, smiling.

            Anna smiled back at them. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

            “So, Anna, what’s playing on angel radio?” asked Dean. “Anything useful?”

            “It’s quiet,” said Anna, fiddling with the hex bag. “Dead silence.”

            Dean grimaced. “Good. That’s not troubling at all.”

            “It makes sense,” said (Y/N). “If they know she’s listening, they won’t say anything.”

            Anna swallowed. “We’re in trouble. You guys are scared.”

            Dean paused before smiling. “Nah.”

            Anna knew a lie when she heard it.

            “Anna, just because we’re in trouble doesn’t mean we won’t try to help you,” said (Y/N).

            Anna looked at them, and, for just a moment, she seemed to look through them. She blinked. “Thank you.”

            (Y/N) offered her a smile.

            “Hey, Dean!” said Sam, calling downstairs. He had arrived back safely with the impala.

            “Just stay here, okay?” said Dean. As they passed Ruby, he paused. “Keep an eye on her.”

            Dean led the way upstairs where Sam was waiting.

            “How’s the car?” he asked before anything else.

            “I got her. She’s fine,” said Sam. “Where’s Bobby?”

            “The Dominican,” said Dean incredulously. “He said we break anything, we buy it.”

            “He’s working a job?” said Sam.

            “God, I hope so,” said Dean. “Otherwise, he’s a hedonism in a banana hammock and a trucker cap.”

            Sam ignored that image. “How’s Anna?”

            “Scared,” said (Y/N). “She doesn’t really understand what’s going on.”

            “Likes the kid, though, so she’s not freaking out and running,” said Dean. Sam nodded. “What did you find on Anna?”

            “Uh, not much,” said Sam, pulling out a folder. “Her parents were Rich and Amy Milton—a church deacon and housewife.”

            “Riveting,” said Dean.

            “Kinda fits with her abilities,” said (Y/N). “The church aspect.”

            Sam nodded. “And there is something weird in the report. Turns out this latest psych episode wasn’t her first.”

            “No?” asked Dean.

            “When she was two and a half, she’d get hysterical any time her dad got close,” said Sam. “She was convinced he ‘wasn’t her real daddy.’ ”

            “Who was? The plumber?” Dean cracked a grin.

            (Y/N) frowned. “What does a plumber have to do with it?”

            Dean coughed awkwardly.

            “He’s confusing reality with porn,” said Sam, rolling his eyes. “Don’t follow his example.”

            Dean deflated.

            “Look, Anna didn’t say who she thought her real dad was,” said Sam. “She just kept repeating that this real father of hers was mad. Very mad—like wanted-to-kill-her mad.”

            “Kind of heavy for a two year old,” said Dean.

            “Is it? I used to tell my parents I heard shadows whispering to me,” said (Y/N). They shrugged. “Kids are weird.” They frowned. “Actually, if monsters exist, maybe they were.”

            “Lucky your parents were hunters, then,” said Dean, and (Y/N) nodded.

            Sam rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Anna saw a kid’s shrink, got better, and grew up normal.”

            “Until now,” said Dean. “So, what’s she hiding?”

            “Why don’t you just ask me to my face?” Anna stood in the doorway, and the hunters jumped. Her arms were crossed, frustrated.

            “Nice job watching her,” said Dean.

            Ruby scoffed and shrugged. “I’m watching her.”

            “No, you’re right, Anna,” said Sam. “Is there anything you want to tell us?”

            “About what?” asked Anna.

            “The angels said you were guilty of something,” said Sam. “Why would they say that?”

            “You tell me!” said Anna. “Tell me why my life has been leveled, why my parents are dead!” She swallowed, tears in the edges of her eyes. “I swear. I would give anything to know.”

            “Okay,” said Sam. There was no doubt she was being an honest as she could be. If she was guilty of something, she was unaware of it. “Then let’s find out.”

            “How?” asked Anna.

            “Well, we know a psychic who doesn’t like angels,” said Dean.

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            “We’re here!” called Dean, walking down the stairs to the panic room. Pamela, hand on his back, walked carefully down behind him.

            “Pamela. Hey,” said Sam. His heart clenched at her dark glasses—evidence of the loss of her eyes due to their questions.

            “Sam,” she said.

            “Yeah, hi,” said Sam.

            Pamela reached out and patted his shoulders. “Sam, is that you?”

            “I’m right here,” said Sam.

            “Oh,” said Pamela, feeling his shoulders and face. “Know how I can tell?” Slap She slapped his ass. Sam’s bitch face appeared, and Pamela grinned. “That perky little ass of yours. You could bounce a nickel off that thing.” She nudged his shoulder. “Of course I know it’s you, Grumpy. Same way I know that’s a demon, that poor girl’s Anna, and that’s my favorite kid, (Y/N).”

            “Hi, Pam,” said (Y/N).

            “Heya,” said Pamela. “Still surviving? That’s good. Hate to lose that spark.” She wiggled her fingers around (Y/N) as if touching their aura. “Now, Anna. How are you? I’m Pamela.”

            “Hi,” said Anna, smiling slightly and letting Pamela take her hands.

            “Dean told me what’s been going on,” said Pamela. “I’m excited to help.”

            “Oh, that’s nice of you,” said Anna.

            “Oh, well, not really. Any chance I can dick over an angel, I’m taking it,” said Pamela.

            “Why?” asked Anna, furrowing her brow.

            “They stole something from me.” She removed her glasses to reveal white, glass eyes. “Demon-y, I know. But they’re just plastic. Good for business. Makes me look extra-psychic don’t you think?” Pamela chuckled. “Now…” She put the sunglasses back on. “How about you tell me what your deal is? Hm?” She put an arm around Anna’s shoulders and guided her to the panic room. “Don’t you worry.”

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            “Nice and relaxed,” said Pamela, voice calm and comforting. Anna lay on the bed before her, eyes closed as she tried to breathe deeply and slowly. “Now, I’m going to count down from five to zero. When we’re at zero, you’ll fall into a deep state of hypnosis. As I count down, go deeper and deeper, okay? Five…four…three…two…one. Deep sleep.” Pamela touched Anna’s forehead. “Deep sleep. Every muscle calm and relaxed. Can you hear me?”

            “I can hear you,” said Anna, words coming slowly, drugged up from her subconscious.

            “Now, Anna, tell me…how can you hear the angels?” asked Pamela. “How did you work that spell?”

            “I don’t know,” replied Anna. “I just did.”

            (Y/N) tilted their head. The instinct had to come from somewhere.

            “Your father, what’s his name?” asked Pamela.

            “Rich Milton,” said Anna.

            “Alright,” said Pamela. “But I want you to look further back, when you were very young, just a couple of years old.”

            “I don’t want to,” said Anna, voice distressed.

            “It’ll be okay,” said Pamela soothingly. “Anna, just one look—that’s all we need.”

            “No!” said Anna, head jerking to the side.

            “What’s your dad’s name?” asked Pamela. “Your real dad. Why is he angry at you?”

            “No. No!” Anna jerked in the bed. No!”

            The electricity crackled, and (Y/N) tensed. Anna wasn’t alright. Whatever the truth was, it was a powerful secret.

            “No!” Anna arched up.

            “Calm down,” said Pamela, trying to soothe her.

            Anna screamed again. “He’s gonna kill me!”

            “Anna, you’re safe,” said Pamela.

            Bam! The door of the panic room swung closed on its own. Anna screamed, and the lightbulbs popped, sparking.

            “Calm down,” said Pamela again.

            “He’s gonna kill me!” cried Anna.

            “Anna!” said Dean, moving forward.

            “Dean, don’t!” said Sam.

            Dean put a hand on Anna’s shoulder, and she screamed, throwing her arm back. Dean went flying into the wall, and (Y/N)’s eyes widened. Anna’s presence felt very familiar. What she was effecting felt similar to something else—another shower of sparks distracted (Y/N), and they covered their head.

            “Wake in one, two, three, four, five,” said Pamela firmly, hands hovered over Anna as she jerked in the bed. “Anna…Anna…” Her body relaxed in exhaustion. Pamela smoothed her hair from her forehead, and Anna’s eyes opened. “You alright?”

            Anna looked at Pamela, all traces of insecurity gone. She sat up and looked around, much more assured. “Thank you, Pamela. That helped a lot. I remember now.” She spoke with confidence, somber but self-assured.

            “Remember what?” asked (Y/N).

            Anna looked at them. “Who I am.”

            “I’ll bite. Who are you?” said Dean, staring.

            “I’m an angel.”

            Everyone stared at Anna as she spoke.

            “You—What—How?” said Dean.

            “It’s a long story,” said Anna, standing.

            The group shifted back, tense. Pamela moved away from Anna quickly, and Anna frowned.

            “I can understand we need to talk. I promise, I will answer all your questions,” said Anna.

            Dean stared. “I need a drink.” He opened the door and headed out.

            Ruby stared from Sam to Anna, eyes narrowed.

            “Let’s go upstairs,” said (Y/N), speaking slowly. Anna being an angel was strange. With how Castiel and Uriel acted, they weren’t sure they could trust her. But she was being hunted. She had been afriad. (Y/N) wasn’t going to send her away just yet. “Pamela?”

            “Mmm.” Pamela wasn’t sure how to feel about having helped an angel after getting hurt by them. Still she felt her way out of the room, and (Y/N) helped her go upstairs.

            “Don’t be afraid,” said Anna as everyone settled in the living room. “I’m not like the others.”

            “I don’t find that reassuring,” scoffed Ruby.

            “Neither do I,” said Pamela coldly.

            “So…Castiel, Uriel—they’re the ones that came for me?” said Anna.

            “You know them?” asked Sam as Dean nodded.

            Anna smiled slightly. “We were kind of in the same foxhole.”

            “So, what, they’re like your bosses or something?” asked Dean.

            Anna hesitated. “Try the other way around,” she said shyly.

            Dean smiled. “Look at you.”

            “But now they want to kill you?” said Pamela, still believing that was a trick.

            “Orders are orders,” sighed Anna. “I’m sure I have a death sentence on my head.”

            “What happened?” asked (Y/N). They didn’t know much about angels, but for her to live as a human with no memories and to believe her father—God—wanted her dead, something significant had to have happened.

            “I disobeyed,” said Anna. “Which, for us, is about the worst thing you can do. I fell.”

            “Meaning?” said Dean.

            “She fell to Earth and became human—became Anna Milton,” said (Y/N).

            “Wait a minute, I don’t understand,” said Sam. “So, angels can just become human?”

            “It kind of hurts,” said Anna. “Try cutting your kidney out with a butter knife. That kind of hurt. I ripped out my grace.”

            “Come again?” said Dean, tilting his head.

            “My grace,” repeated Anna. “It’s…energy. Hacked it out and fell. My mother, Amy, couldn’t get pregnant.” She smiled fondly. “Always called me her little miracle. She had no idea how right she was.”

            “So, you just forgot that you were God’s little power ranger?” said Dean incredulously.

            “The older I got, the longer I was human, yeah,” said Anna, shrugging. “If you no longer have your abilities and are not exposed to anything like them…it’s easy to forget who you are. What you’re capable of.”

            “I don’t think you all appreciate how completely screwed we are,” snapped Ruby, more concerned about the danger arriving than Anna’s human-ness issues.

            “Ruby’s right,” said Anna. “Heaven wants me dead.”

            “And Hell just wants her,” said Ruby. “A flesh-and-blood angel that you can question, torture, that bleeds. Sister, you’re the Stanley Cup. And sooner or later, Heaven or Hell, they’re gonna find you.”

            “I know,” said Anna. “And that’s why I’m gonna get it back.”

            “Get what back?” asked (Y/N).

            “My grace,” said Anna.

            “You can do that?” said Dean.

            “If I can find it,” confirmed Anna.

            “So, what, you’re just gonna take some divine bong hit and, shazam, you’re Roma Downey?” said Dean.

            “What are you even saying?” said (Y/N) in amazement. Dean’s mind worked in a completely different way.

            “It’s something like that,” said Anna.

            “Alright.” Dean grinned. “I like this plan. So, where’s this grace of yours?”

            “Lost track,” admitted Anna. “I was falling about ten thousand miles per hour at the time.”

            “Wait. You mean falling, like, literally?” said Sam.

            “Yes,” said Anna.

            “Like the way a human eye can see?” said Sam. “Like a comet maybe or a meteor?”

            “Why do you ask?” said Anna.

            “Because if something fell to earth at the same time you did, maybe your grace will be there,” said Sam. “And it’ll be easy to look up.”

            Anna nodded slowly. “That could work.”

            “Then we have a plan,” said Dean, grinning.

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[anonymousewrites]

I love you too mwah, eat and sleep well my favorite author 😘 also I'm rewatching supernatural too just because of you lol

Don't worry for me! Happily with my Nonna, who will ensure I am well fed. And watch supernatural for me! I can't access it right now </3. (don't worry, working on other things :) )

[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Fifteen

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Fifteen: Angels Begone

Summary: (Y/N) faces the risks of the hunting life.

Mouse Note: I'm back!

            “Shit—Dean, they’re not opening their eyes,” said Sam, looking into the backseat as Dean sped down the road.

            “Kid? (Y/N)? Wake up,” he said, twisting slightly.

            (Y/N) lay unconscious on the impala, blood staining their shirt. They didn’t move or react to his words.

            “We need to stich that,” said Dean. He grimaced as his shoulder ached. “And reset my shoulder.” It was dislocated from the hit against the wall.

            “We need them to open their eyes,” said Sam, reaching back to shake (Y/N). “They haven’t moved since we jumped out the window.” He looked at Dean. “What the hell happened?”

            “They stabbed the demon to get him off me,” said Dean. “He managed to stab them back.” He huffed. “And then we lost the magic knife.”

            “Saving your life,” pointed out Sam as they pulled into the motel. His stomach twisted as he ducked out of the car and opened the backseat. (Y/N) saved Dean’s life, and now theirs was at risk. Sam pulled them out and carried them inside.

            “Disinfect them,” said Dean, grabbing a bottle and tossing to him. Alcohol was their only option. Meanwhile, he grabbed a needle and thread.

            Sam poured alcohol over their wound, and (Y/N) jerked awake at the burning sensation.

            “No!”

            They thrashed against Sam’s hold, screaming at the feeling of someone holding them down.

            “Dean!” shouted Sam, and Dean moved over. “(Y/N), it’s us! (Y/N)!”

            (Y/N) blinked, and their eyes widened as they saw Sam and Dean. “We—What—Ow—” They looked down at their side where the bloody slash bled.

            “We need to sew it,” said Sam. “It’s gonna hurt.”

            “Sam, set my shoulder and I’ll do it,” said Dean, spitting blood into a cup.

            “Hold tight,” said Sam. “Don’t move. You’re gonna be okay.” He smiled shakily and looked towards Dean.

            While he relocated Dean’s shoulder, (Y/N) stared at their wound. They took deep breaths, in and out, and just stared at the blood trickling down their skin in tiny rivulets. They felt the sting of alcohol, and they were frozen—they had actually nearly died. They had been so close to being killed. It hit (Y/N) in a rush, and they let out a shaky breath.

            “Okay, kid, brace yourself,” said Dean, needle and thread in hand.

            “We’ve got to close it,” said Sam.

            (Y/N) nodded jerkily. “Do it.” They weren’t going to die here, no way no way nowaytheyweren’tdyingtodaynononono

            They let out a low hiss as the needle punctured their skin and pulled the skin around their wound. The pull continued rhythmically, and (Y/N)’s hand curled around their necklace. They held the spirit quartz tightly, taking deep breaths and focusing the cool sensation of the crystal in their hand.

            “Done,” said Dean.

            (Y/N) let out a long breath. “Thank you,” they said, voice hoarse.

            “You stabbed a bigwig demon for me,” said Dean. “Least I could do.” He nudged (Y/N)’s shoulder slightly.

            “Who the hell even was that demon?” said Sam, now working on his own wounds.

            “No one good,” said Dean. “We gotta find Anna.”

            “She left with Ruby,” said (Y/N), standing, wincing, and going to their bag. Gingerly, they knelt and grabbed another shirt. They threw it on so they were no longer walking around bloody.

            “You sure that’s okay?” said Dean, narrowing his eyes.

            “Ruby’s got her,” said Sam.

            “Yeah? ‘Cause it’s pretty likely she used us to find radio girl and then brought that demon in to kill us,” said Dean.

            (Y/N) hoped not. They’d told Anna they’d find her.

            “She took Anna to keep her safe. Right, (Y/N)?” said Sam.

            “I hope so,” said (Y/N).

            “Why hasn’t she called to tell us where she is?” asked Dean, rolling his relocated shoulder and deciding to press an icepack to it.

            “Because that demon is probably watching us right now,” said Sam. “Waiting to follow us right back to Anna again. That’s why he let us go.”

            “You call that letting us go?” said Dean.

            “Felt more like ‘wanted us dead,’ ” said (Y/N).

            “Killing us would have been no problem to that thing,” said Sam. “If he wanted us dead, we would be. That’s why for now, we just gotta lay low and wait for Ruby to contact us.”

            “Yeah? How’s she gonna do that?” said Dean.

            Sam just shrugged. Even he didn’t know.

            Dean turned from the mirror and looked at Sam. “Why do you trust her so much?” Not a dig—a direct question.

            Sam sighed. “I told you.”

            Dean shook his head. “You gotta do better than that. Hey, I’m not trying to pick a fight here.”

            “Sam…if we’re going to have to work with her on this and trust her, we gotta know why we should,” said (Y/N) quietly.

            Sam was silent. Slowly, he nodded. “I trust her…because she saved my life. And she took a body that was about to be taken off life support, so she’s not stealing anyone’s life. And she…offered to teach me, help me defeat Lilith.”

            “So…what did she did teach?” asked Dean slowly. He sat down on one of the beds.

            “Well, the first thing I learned—” he scoffed “—I’m a crappy student. I struggled to learn how to exorcize demons, I was missing you, but Ruby, she—” Sam paused, glanced at (Y/N), and cleared his throat “—she helped.”

            Oh, gross, ew, thought (Y/N), nose wrinkling. With a demon? Pretty, sure. But a demon?

            “Too much information,” grumbled Dean.

            “That was nothing,” said Sam.

            “Still too much,” said (Y/N).

            “Do you want me to come clean or not?” said Sam.

            Dean held up his hands. “Alright. Brain-stabbing-imagery aside, so far all you’ve told us about this manipulative bitch who, uh, screwed you, played mind games with you, and did everything in the book to get you to go bad.”

            “Yeah, well, there’s more to the story,” said Sam.

            “Just skip any nudity,” said Dean.

            “Or references to it,” added (Y/N).

            “Pretty soon…after that, I put together some signs, omens,” explained Sam.

            “Saying what?” asked Dean.

            “Lilith was in town,” said Sam. “And I wanted to strike her first. Ruby didn’t think I was ready, but I went in anyways, even though she knew that if I died then, there would be no more chance to get Lilith. When I went to the house Lilith was staying, it was a trap. A demon attacked, and Ruby saved me. And I exorcised my first demon.” Sam shook his head. “Ruby came back for me. Whatever you have to say, she saved me. More than that, she got through to me. What she said to me…Dean, it’s what you would have said. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here.”

            Silence descended as Dean and (Y/N) finished listening to his story. Sam shifted, glancing at his hands as they processed.

            Knock.

            All three looked up in alarm at the door.

            “Housekeeping!” called a voice.

            “Not now,” replied Dean.

            “Sir, I’ve got clean towels!” called the woman again.

            Dean groaned, walked to the door, and opened it. “Couldn’t you just leave ‘em at the door?”

            The woman pushed her way in, shoving towels into Dean’s hands. She pulled the curtains of the motel room closed. She went directly to Sam and held out a piece of paper. “I’m at this address,” she said.

            “I’m sorry, what?” said Sam.

            “Go now. Go through the bathroom window. Don’t stop, don’t take your car, don’t pass go,” said the woman—Ruby, (Y/N) suspected. “There are demons in the hallway and in the parking lot.”

            “Ruby?” said Sam, eyes widening.

            “Okay, yes, so I’m possessing this maid for a hot minute. Sue me,” said Ruby, rolling her eyes.

            “What about—”

            “Coma girl?” said Ruby. “Slowly rotting on the floor at the cabin with Anna. So I’ve got to hurry back. See you when you get there. Go!” Without another word, she headed out the door and closed it behind her.

            Dean blinked, and (Y/N) tilted their head.

            “I guess she contacted us,” they said.

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            Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) tramped through the woods over branches and leaves until they came upon a cabin. Ruby, back in “her” body, opened the door and let them in.

            “Glad you could make it,” she said.

            “Yeah, thanks,” said Sam.

            Anna sat up straighter as she saw them.

            “Are you okay?” asked (Y/N), looking at her.

            “Yeah. I think so,” said Anna. She reached out and touched (Y/N)’s hand. “Are you?”

            “I think so,” said (Y/N), smiling tentatively.

            Anna nodded, smiled, and looked at Sam and Dean. “Ruby saved my life.”

            “Yeah, I’ve heard she does that,” said Dean. He looked at Ruby. “I guess, uh…you know…”

            “What?” said Ruby, crossing her arms defensively.

            “I guess I owe you for Sam,” said Dean. “And I just wanna—” he cleared his throat awkwardly “—you know…”

            “Don’t strain yourself,” said Ruby, rolling her eyes.

            “Okay then,” said Dean. “Is the moment over? Good, cause that was awkward.”

            “Hey, Sam, do you think it’d be safe to make a quick call just to tell my parents I’m okay?” asked Anna. “They must be completely freaked.”

            Right. They hadn’t gotten the chance to tell her. (Y/N)’s gaze fell to the ground. Sam and Dean glanced at each other.

            “Um…” Sam swallowed.

            “What?” said Anna, voice shaky as she heard his tone and apprehension.

            “Anna…” Sam sat down beside her as Dean avoided her gaze. “Your parents.”

            “What about them?” asked Anna nervously.

            “Look, I’m sorry,” said Sam.

            “No, they’re not…” said Anna, shaking her head.

            “Anna, I’m sorry,” said Sam softly.

            Tears quivered in Anna’s eyes, and she sobbed, burying her head in her hands. “Why is this happening to me?!”

            “We don’t know,” said (Y/N). They sat down on Anna’s other side and hesitated before patting her back. They knew nothing could tear this grief away.

            Anna gasped and sat up. Looking around herself warily, she took a shuddering breath. “They’re coming!”

            Electricity crackled, and the lights blinked on and off in the cabin.

            “Backroom!” said Ruby, leading them back.

            (Y/N) grabbed Anna’s hand and pulled her back with them. They pushed her back while Dean and Sam grabbed weapons. Ruby dug through the bag for her knife and glared up at them.

            “Where’s the knife?!”

            Sam grimaced.

            “Uh, about that…” said Dean.

            “You’re kidding,” exclaimed Ruby.

            (Y/N) winced. Losing it meant losing the ability to kill demons easily.

            “Hey, don’t look at us,” said Dean, looking at Sam.

            “Thanks a lot,” grumbled Sam.

            “Great, just peachy,” said Ruby. “Impeccable timing, guys, really.”

            The wind howled through the cabin, and (Y/N) felt the electricity in the air crackle. They picked up a weapon and narrowed their eyes. The door bust open, and the hunters and demon tensed. To everyone’s surprise, Castiel and Uriel walked into the room. Ruby narrowed her eyes, and (Y/N) didn’t relax upon seeing Uriel. His presence could not be a good sign.

            “Please tell me you’re here to help,” said Dean, looking to Castiel for explanation. “We’ve been having demon issues all day.”

            “Well, I can see that,” said Uriel, looking disdainfully at Ruby. That appeared to be his constant state of existence. “You want to explain why you have that stain in the room?”

            Dean and Sam exchanged looks.

            “We’re here for Anna,” said Castiel.

            “Here for her, like here for her?” said Dean, furrowing his brow.

            “Stop talking,” said Uriel. “Give her to us.”

            “What are you going to do to her?” snapped (Y/N). Uriel’s presence meant the possibility of death, and they weren’t going to send Anna to her death.

            “We have orders,” said Uriel, the cold look in his eyes the equivalent of a glare for the “put together, logical, inhuman” angel.

            “She has to die,” said Castiel.

            “What?” said (Y/N), straightening. No way. Anna hadn’t done anything wrong; she didn’t deserve to die.

            “You want Anna? Why?” questioned Sam.

            “Out of the way,” ordered Uriel, stepping forward.

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Dean, moving in front of the path to the backroom. “Okay, I know she’s wiretapping your angel chats or whatever, but it’s no reason to gank her.”

            “Don’t worry. I’ll kill her gently,” said Uriel. His grin made (Y/N)’s stomach turn.

            “You are such dicks,” they snapped. “Heartless.”

            “As a matter of fact, we are,” said Castiel, no trace of a joke. “And?”

            “And Anna’s an innocent girl,” said Sam forcefully.

            Castiel’s gaze softened ever-so-slightly. He shook his head. “She is far from innocent.”

            Dean furrowed his brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “It means she’s worse than this abomination you’ve been screwing,” said Uriel, casting a disgusted look at Ruby. “Now give us the girl.”

            Dean looked at Sam and (Y/N). Neither’s gaze wavered, resolute.

            “Sorry,” said Dean. “Get yourself another one. Try JDate.”

            “Who’s gonna stop us?” said Uriel. “You three? Or this demon whore?”

            He grabbed Ruby’s jacket and tossed her into a wall. She hit her head and slumped to the ground. She scrambled to her feet, but Uriel grabbed her by the neck. Dean hit him, and Uriel spun on him. Castiel moved forward, and Sam and (Y/N) moved between him and the backroom. Sam lunged, and Castiel easily moved him away. He didn’t attack outright, but the force of his block caused Sam to stumble back. (Y/N) stood between Castiel and the door.

            “Don’t hurt her,” they said. “She just want to be left alone.”

            “It must be done,” said Castiel, reaching two fingers up.

            (Y/N) remembered the effects of that and moved back. Their back was against the door, and their hand pressed it closed. “Anna, if there’s a window, run!”

            Castiel pressed two fingers to their forehead, and (Y/N) felt tired—stay away, stay awake, stay awake—Castiel furrowed his brow.

            Ba-boom!

            A blinding light flashed through the cabin. The white brightness caused everyone to shut their eyes tightly. Thunder crashed with a roar, and the angels jerked at the force of the power. Their bodies were thrown back and disappeared in thin air. The cabin shook and steadied itself. The light faded. The shattered lightbulbs swung above them. (Y/N) let out a breath and sank to the floor in front of the door.

            “What the…” Dean trailed off.

            (Y/N) pushed themself to their feet and opened the door of the backroom, eyes wide with worry for Anna.

            “Anna?” they said.

            Anna looked up from the bathroom sink she leaned over. Blood stained the counter beneath her fingers. Her eyes were wide and wild, and (Y/N) followed her gaze. In the mirror, painted in blood, was a sigil.

Taglist:

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@girgal73

@neenieweenie

@yummycement

@pain-in-the-ashe

@w0mank1sser

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@demonic-insomniac

@aew-regression-cove

@grippledee-galaxy

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@dmitrytherat

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@mxvoid26

[anonymousewrites]

Hello, I really love your writing especially for black butler. I was just wondering if ever you'll put your work on Wattpad? I really like your stories, but I can't read them here on Tumblr all the time since there's no wifi in my school. Where unlike in Wattpad, where I can download stories and read them offline. Just curious, thank you! :)))

I am not interested in Wattpad as a posting platform. Could I suggest my ao3 account? I think you can download in some way on ao3 if that’s what you need. :) thank you for the support!

[anonymousewrites]

Oooh, looks like fun!

Last Song: Je Ne Sais Quoi by Marina, I Like Girls (Who Like Skulls) by DBone and the Remains

Favorite Color: Forest green

Currently Watching: Supernatural (Rewatch), Doctor Who (Latest)

Last Movie: Vendetta for the Saint with Roger Moore

Currently Reading: The Tuesday Club Murders by Agatha Christie

Sweet, spicy, or savory: Savory!

Relationship: Nope!

Current Obsession: My Nobody’s Soldier fanfic, jazzy music about monsters

Last Googled: who are there actors in The Gentleman show

Currently Working on: Kyoya X reader book 2

@neenieweenie

@yappydoo

@jaguarthecat

To people who comment and I love very much for it!

nine people I want to get to know better

Thanks for the tag @mourky!!

Last song(s): Sacrifice by London After Midnight

Favourite colour: teal or emerald green

Currently watching: Doctor Who season 4 (like 3rd rewatch), Torchwood

Last movie: Sinners (2025) SO SO GOOD!! peak movie

Currently reading: Dragon Age: The Masked Empire by Patrick Weekes (I kinda don't wanna finish it bc I know what's gonna happen and im scared), 2001: A Space Odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke

Sweet, spicy, or savoury: sweet!!

Relationship: nah

Current obsession: Dragon Age insanity is still going strong

Last googled: "basalt rock flour" (gardening core)

Currently working on: small diy projects and gardening

Tagging (less than nine ppl): @heliomanteia @edenintheskies @ghost-of-spring-woods @falloutcoys @durgeapologist

[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Fourteen

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Fourteen: Woman Hearing Angels

Summary: A woman is targeted by demons for hearing the angels.

Mouse Note: Due to traveling, I will not be updating on Monday, but I hopefully will Tuesday onwards. Thanks for your understanding!

            “Did you guys lose money or something?” asked (Y/N) as Dean and Sam emerged from the bar where they’d planned on scamming people in pool.

            “Ruby showed up,” said Dean, rolling his eyes and getting into the car.

            “She has a credible source for a case,” said Sam. “Demons are looking for a girl who escaped a psych ward. Important demons. And they want her alive!”

            “I don’t want the demons to find her,” said (Y/N) instantly.

            “We’re not taking a case from a demon. It might be a trick,” said Dean firmly.

            Sam heaved an exasperated sigh. “Come on, let’s just check it out. If the hospital says the girl exists, then there’s something there. Is that okay?”

            Dean gritted his teeth and held onto the wheel of the impala.

            “Seems like a fair trade,” said (Y/N).

            Dean let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”

l

            “Can I get a copy of the missing person’s report? Great. Okay. Thanks,” said Sam. He snapped his phone closed. “Well, Anna Milton’s definitely real.”

            “Don’t mean the case is real,” said Dean. “This hospital’s a three-day drive.”

            “We’ve driven further for less,” said Sam. Dean shook his head. “You got something to say, say it.”

            (Y/N) sensed another argument coming on. Ruby’s presence created them, it seemed. Not to mention, they hadn’t really talked about Sam using his psychic powers against Samhain. It just…hung over them in a cloud of tension.

            “Oh, I’m saying it. This sucks,” said Dean.

            “You’re not pissed we’re going after a girl, you’re pissed Ruby threw us the tip,” said Sam.

            “Right, ‘cause as far as you’re concerned, the hell-bitch is practically family,” said Dean.

            Not really a family relationship going on at the hotel room when we found her… thought (Y/N).

            “Yeah, boy, something major must have happened while I was downstairs ‘cause I come back and then you’re BFFs with a demon?” said Dean, voice biting and sarcastic.

            “I told you, Dean, she helped me go after Lilith,” said Sam.

            “Well, thanks for the thumbnail. Real vivid,” said Dean. “You wanna fill in a little detail?”

            “Sure, Dean, let’s trade stories!” said Sam. “You first. How was Hell? Don’t spare the details.”

            Dean scowled, and Sam went back to staring out the window. (Y/N) grimaced. They needed to try being honest with each other.

l

            “So, is she real? Is this a case?” asked (Y/N), leaning out of the window of the impala.

            “Anna Milton is real, knocked out a man twice her side with a single punch, and believes demons are all around,” said Sam.

            Dean grimaced. “It’s a case.” Unfortunately, Ruby had been right.

            “She has as sketchbook,” said Sam, letting (Y/N) take a look. “Remind you of anything?”

            “The Witnesses,” said (Y/N), looking at the mark of the witnesses drawn on the page. “And this girl, is it Lilith?”

            “Yeah,” said Dean.

            They turned to the next page. Samhain—in Don’s body—just a sketch but clear as day. Anna could see all of this. She knew it.

            “She knows about the seals,” said (Y/N).

            “She knows Lucifer might rise,” said Sam. “So we need to find her before the demons.”

            “Her parents live an hour away,” said Dean. “Let’s see if she’s there.”

            (Y/N) nodded and settled into their seat. They kept looking through the sketchbook. This was a lifeline for Anna, it was clear in the effort of each picture, the urgency with which they were drawn. If there was any clue to her whereabouts or what she knew, it was there.

l

            (Y/N) was really starting to will themself to look older as they lay in the backseat of the impala while Sam and Dean went to the Milton’s home’s front door. They wanted a suit and tie and to look like an FBI agent so they could get in on the action. This was just ridiculous. (They would just have to get used it).

            Raising their head, they looked at Sam and Dean. Neither were going inside, and no one answered the door. However, two cars were in the driveway. Something was off.

            “Dean?” said (Y/N), opening the door.

            “No one’s here,” said Dean.

            “Cars are,” said (Y/N).

            Sam narrowed his eyes, and he nodded at them to join him and Dean. If something suspicious was happening, keeping track of everyone was imperative. Dean finished picking the door’s lock, and the door swung open.

            “Mr. and Mrs. Milton?” called Dean. “We’re from the sheriff’s department.”

            “Just wanted to ask you a couple questions,” said Sam as he and Dean looked around.

            (Y/N) stepped into the living room carefully, and their eyes fell on a two body. “Sam, Dean—” They choked on their words at the slit throats—a vision of their Dad’s bloody neck swimming in their vision.

            (Y/N) backed up, and Sam and Dean immediately appeared. The Miltons were dead. Sam approached and knelt, touching a dusting of something. He smelled it, and his nose wrinkled.

            “Sulfur,” he confirmed, grimacing at the smell. “Demons beat us here. Whatever the deal is with this Anna girl—”

            “Yeah, they want her,” said Dean.

            “They’re doing anything they can to find her,” said (Y/N), staring at the bodies. They blinked until their dad’s body wasn’t in front of them.

            “Alright,” said Dean. “So I’m ‘Girl, Interrupted,’ and I know the score of the apocalypse, just busted out of the nuthouse. Possibly using superpowers, by the way. Where do I go?”

            (Y/N) looked across the pictures of the mantlepiece. They didn’t want to look at the bodies any longer. Picking up a family photo, (Y/N) frowned. It looked similar.

            “The church,” said (Y/N), holding it up. “The window is the same one she drew a lot.” They looked at Sam and Dean. “And she knows demons are after her. A church would feel safe.” The same way (Y/N)’s necklace made them feel safe, Anna’s church did the same for her.

l

            The light filtered through the stained-glass window above (Y/N)’s head, throwing purple, red, blue, and green glows over them. As they mounted the stairs through the church, they kept a close eye out for any signs of people. It was not time for mass, so it was mostly empty, but Anna had to be somewhere there, and if Anna was, demons wouldn’t be far behind.

            Finally, they arrived in the room containing the stained-glass window, grand and round. The group peeked inside warily, but no one appeared to be there. Likely, Anna was hiding. Her instincts were correct to be careful. The creak of wood told Sam, Dean, and (Y/N) were she was. Behind a small, abandoned glass display, a girl with red hair hide, eyes creased with fear.

            The hunters pocketed their guns, tucking them into their belts before they went any farther. Sam cleared his throat.

            “Anna?” said Sam. “We’re not gonna hurt you. We’re here to help. My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean.”

            “I’m (Y/N),” said (Y/N), hoping that would help.

            “Sam and Dean? Winchester?” said Anna.

            Sam and Dean looked at each other in surprise.

            “Uh, yeah,” said Sam.

            Anna stepped out finally. She shifted nervously. “And you’re Dean? The Dean?”

            Dean blinked in surprise. “Well, yeah. The Dean, I guess.” He grinned.

            “It’s really you. Oh my god,” said Anna, walking closer, shoulders sagging with relief. Her eyes landed on (Y/N). “And you’re (Y/N) (L/N).”

            “Um, yeah,” said (Y/N).

            Anna smiled, eyes passing over all of them again. “The angels talk about you. Dean, you were in Hell, and Castiel pulled you out and some of them think you can save us.” Her eyes went to Sam, and she swallowed. “And some of them don’t like you at all.” She looked at (Y/N), and she tilted her head. “They’re conflicted with you. You’re…new. But they talk about you three all the time lately. I feel…like I know you.” Anna smiled slightly.

            “You talk to angels?” said (Y/N) slowly, trying to process that angels were talking about them. If Uriel was…it probably wasn’t positive. Well, it wasn’t like they were important. Sam was the one with Azazel’s blood. Dean was the one raised from Hell. (Y/N) was the tagalong.

            Anna shook her head quickly, nervously. “Oh, no. No, no way. Um, they probably don’t even know I exist. I just kind of overhear them.”

            “You overhear them?” questioned Sam, curious.

            “Yeah,” said Anna. “They talk, and sometimes I just…hear them in my head.”

            “Like right now?” said Dean, frowning.

            “Not right this second, but a lot,” said Anna. “And I can’t shut them out. There are so many of them.”

            “So they lock you up with a case of the crazies when really you were just tuning in to angel radio?” said Dean.

            “Yes.” Anna straightened as if she’d never thought of it that way or been believed. “Thank you.”

            “Anna, when did the voices start? Do you remember?” asked Sam.

            “I can tell you exactly. September eighteenth,” said Anna.

            Sam and (Y/N) looked at Dean. That was the day he returned to Earth.

            “First words I heard, clear as a bell,” said Anna. “ ‘Dean Winchester is saved.’ ”

            Dean blinked. “What do you think?”

            “It’s above my paygrade, man,” said Sam.

            “Castiel sure was excited to have saved you,” said (Y/N). Honestly, that was the only helpful observation they’d made.

            “Well, at least we know why the demons want you so bad,” said Dean, smiling at Anna. “When they get ahold of you, they can hear everything. You’re 1-800-ANGEL.” He chuckled, and Anna cracked a smile.

            “Hey, um, do you know, are my parents okay?” asked Anna hesitantly. “I-I didn’t go home. I was afraid.”

            (YN)’s eyes softened, and they opened their mouth.

            Bam. A door shut, and everyone whirled. Ruby walked right up to them, and (Y/N) shifted uncomfortably. Last time they saw Ruby, they’d attacked her.

            “You got the girl,” said Ruby. “Good, let’s go.”

            Anna screamed. “Her face!”

            “No, it’s okay, she’s here to help,” said Sam quickly, but Anna could see Ruby’s true nature—her demonic face.

            “We have to hurry,” said Ruby.

            “Why?” said Dean, distrusting her.

            “Because a demon’s coming, big-timer,” said Ruby. “We can fight later.”

            “That’s pretty convenient,” said Dean, scoffing. “Showing up right when we find the girl with some bigwig on your tail?”

            “Can we focus on just getting Anna somewhere safe?” said (Y/N).

            “I didn’t bring him here, you did,” snapped Ruby. “He followed you from the girl’s house. We gotta go now.”

            “Guys,” said (Y/N), staring at a carving of Mother Mary. Blood dripped from her carved eyes.

            “It’s too late,” breathed Ruby. “He’s here.”

            “Come with me,” said Sam, taking Anna’s arm and pulling her towards the side of the room.

            As he passed them, Sam also grabbed (Y/N), his grip not letting the teenager go anywhere near the open area of the room where the demon would see them. It wouldn’t do much, but he could get (Y/N) out of the direct harm. Anna hid in a closet, and (Y/N) stayed right outside, holding onto a knife that wouldn’t do much against a tough demon.

            “Sam, you gotta pull him right away,” said Ruby.

            “No way,” said Dean, shooting down the psychic abilities idea.

            “Now’s not the time to bellyache about Sam going Dark Side,” snapped Ruby. “He does his thing, he exorcises that demon, or we die.”

            Dean furrowed his brow. Just who was this demon? Sam swallowed and nodded.

            Footsteps echoed up the stairs, and everyone tensed. Bam! The door swung open with pure power, and a white-haired man stepped into the room. He sneered as he saw the gathered group. Sam raised his hand, focusing his abilities. The demon held his throat, and his eyes turned a milky white. He coughed innocently and smirked. Sam’s eyes widened, and his hand fell. His abilities had no effect.

            “That tickles,” said the demon, grinning widely.

            (Y/N)’s blood ran cold, and they moved farther in front of the closet Anna was hiding in.

            “You don’t have the juice to take me on, Sam,” drawled the demon. He made a pulling motion, and Sam went flying through the air. He crashed down the stairs, and Dean shouted, “No!”

            Dean lunged with Ruby’s knife, but the demon grabbed his arm, blocking, and the two grappled.

            “Hello, Dean,” said the demon, grin sharp. He tossed him to the side, throwing him against a wall.

            Ruby darted towards the closet, and (Y/N) glared at her. “Move, brat, I’m going to get her out of here,” snapped Ruby.

            “No-no!” shouted Anna, eyes clenched shut as she saw Ruby’s face.

            (Y/N)’s eyes went from Ruby to Dean as the knife clattered to the floor. The Winchesters were losing. They swallowed and nodded.

            “Anna, follow her. I swear, we’ll find you, and then we’ll help you,” said (Y/N), kneeling in front of her.

            Anna looked at them and searched their gaze. She was looking at something. Finally, she nodded shakily. “Okay. Okay.” She stood, and Ruby took her arm, pulling her around the edge of the room.

            (Y/N) hesitated, about to follow, but they could see the demon leaning over Dean, who was struggling to breath. They made their decision—a stupid one, but one they would commit to.

            (Y/N) darted forward, swept the demon knife into their hand, and plunged it into the demon’s shoulder from the back. He let go of Dean and stumbled forward. Growling, he spun on (Y/N) and wrenched the dagger from his back. He sneered as (Y/N) backed away.

            “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that, kiddo,” said the demon.

            He curled his hand, and a force pushed (Y/N) towards him. They yelped, and the demon grinned, plunging the knife into their side. (Y/N) gasped, and the demon ripped it back out. (Y/N) stumbled back and collapsed. They held their side and whimpered as blood pooled between their fingers, hot and sticky. (Y/N) looked up, and they pushed themself back in panic as the demon walked towards them.

            Sam tackled him, and the demon faltered. Fighting for a handle on the knife, Sam twisted it and stabbed it deep into the demon’s chest. The demon was forced to let go to pry the knife from his chest.

            Dean stumbled to his feet and moved back towards Sam and (Y/N). He looked to Sam and then the window. Sam nodded. (Y/N) tried to get to the feet, and Sam’s arms looped under theirs.

            “Close your eyes,” he said.

            (Y/N) closed their eyes tight and willed themself to survive. Dean and Sam ran towards the window, Sam holding (Y/N) up. They felt the crash of the window, glass cutting across their arms, more blood spilling, and the crunch of the gravel under them as they hit the ground.

            (Y/N)’s eyes didn’t open again, and they felt no more.

Taglist:

@snowy-violet

@girgal73

@neenieweenie

@yummycement

@pain-in-the-ashe

@w0mank1sser

@taeswolfie

@yappydoo

@demonic-insomniac

@aew-regression-cove

@grippledee-galaxy

@lemmejustreadman

@coffeecloud135

@star-maker-rain-dancer

@introvertathome

@trashcannotbealive

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

@dmitrytherat

@paastaboi

@kaz-2y5-spn

[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Thirteen

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Thirteen: Witch Summoning

Summary: Witches be bitches and try to break seals.

            The impala pulled in outside Don Stark’s house. The windows were all dark, no candy left out for Trick-or-Treat, abandoned. The Winchesters and (Y/N) knew better than that. Grabbing guns and knives, they rounded the corner of the house and found a shed in the backyard.

            Convenient, thought (Y/N) as they crept closer.

            Chanting sounded from within, and the wind picked up, sending the smell of goldenthread spiraling through the air. It caught in (Y/N)’s mind, and they held their gun tighter. Sam pushed the door of the shed ajar and peeked in. His eyes widened, and he shoved the door opened.

            Bang!

            Don crumpled to the ground as a bullet pierced his chest. The dagger and ritualistic goblet he held clattered onto the floor, and blood pooled beneath his body. (Y/N) kept their gun trained warily on him as Sam and Dean moved closer to Tracy. She was chained to the ceiling, a gag in her mouth. The instant Sam let her down, she pulled the gag from her mouth and stared at Don.

            “Thank you!” she said, taking a few steps back from the body. “He was gonna kill me!” She ran a frazzled hand through her hair. “Ugh, that sick son of a bitch! I mean, did you see what he was doing?! Did you hear him…” Her hands landed on her hips, and (Y/N) felt the instinctual itch to raise their gun at her “—how sloppy his incantation was?” Tracy scoffed. “My brother was always a little dim.”

            Dean and Sam’s heads rose to look at her in alarm, and (Y/N) raised their gun.

            “Retroversus!” Tracy threw a hand out and shouted.

            Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) flew backwards to the ground, and their guns fell from their grips. They groaned, and (Y/N) gripped their stomach as it turned from the spell. Their hand clasped around their indigo spirit quartz necklace, willing its supposed protection to serve them now. Asking for their parents’ protection, the protection they’d fought to give them after so many years as hunters.

            “He was gonna make me the final sacrifice,” said Tracy. She smirked. “I thought we’d get one of you—the great Winchesters—but I guess I’m glad. Turns out it would’ve been the poor little kiddo here. Samhain deserves a greater vessel than that.” She knelt beside (Y/N)’s body, the spell still holding them down. “Ugh.” She touched the spirit quartz around their neck and sneered. “Honestly, what is it even doing for you?”

            “Get…away from them,” said Sam, gritting his teeth.

            Dean’s hand reached towards his gun. (Y/N) glared fiercely at Tracy.

            “Whatever,” said Tracy, standing and looking to her brother’s body. “Now the honor goes to him. Our master has returned. This spellwork’s a two-man job, you understand? So for six-hundred-years, I had to deal with that pompous son of a bitch. Planning, preparing—unbearable.”

            Childish, thought (Y/N) as they heard Tracy pontificate.

            She knelt next to Don’s body. “The whole time, I wanted to rip his face off.” She picked up the golden cup and dagger. Digging the knife into Don’s chest, blood flowed freely into the cup. “And…” she chuckled “You get him with a gun. Oh, I love that.”

            (Y/N) felt the cramp in their stomach unwind, and they took a deep, shuddering breath. They didn’t move, though, not as Tracy’s eyes remained on the group of hunters she’d trapped.

            “You know, back in the day, this was the one night you kept your child inside,” she said. Finally, she turned away and headed to the table. An animal skull, goldenthread, baby bones, a pentacle, and other spell ingredients were set out with candles. “Well, tonight, you’ll all see what Halloween really is.” Her Latin resumed as she chanted for the return of Samhain.

            (Y/N) pulled the three masks they’d bought from their pocket. Carefully, they tossed them beside Dean and Sam. The Winchesters’ eyes widened, and they rolled onto them, bunching them in their hands.

            (Y/N) pulled the demon mask on their face—black with two little horns. Dean pulled on the white mask with black eyes—the ghost. Sam groaned and pulled on the clown mask, shuddering as he did.

            The ground shook beneath them, and the hunters looked at Tracy, still chanting. Black smoke rose through the cracks in the ground, and (Y/N) knew instantly this was Samhain, a demon from Hell. It flooded upwards, and Samhain’s “spirit” hovered like a cloud over the group before winding downwards into Don’s empty shell of a body.

            His eyes opened. The pupils remained black, but all else was white. Different from the regular demons—far more powerful. Samhain sat up, looking around the shed. He rose, and Tracy stared at him, reverent. No one took notice of the humans laying on the floor, now masked. Samhain walked forward towards Tracy. He took her face in his hands, and she smiled. Samhain kissed her.

            Oh, ew, in her brother’s body?! thought (Y/N), fighting not to cringe.

            “My love,” said Tracy, gazing at Samhain with pure devotion.

            Samhain looked at her carefully. “You’ve aged.”

            Tracy’s eyes went to the ground. “This face…I can’t fool you.”

            “Your beauty is beyond time,” said Samhain.

            Tracy smiled and leaned back in.

            Crack!

            Tracy’s body fell to the ground, neck broken. The loud thud echoed in the silent shed.

            “Whore,” said Samhain.

            He turned around, looking at the vague shapes he knew to be possibly people. He stepped forward, vision blurry. He peered downwards, but he saw inhuman markings. These were not people. Stepping over them, Samhain headed to the door. It swung open on its own, and he walked out into the modern world beyond.

            Dean raised his head. “What the hell was that?”

            “Remember? Masks,” said (Y/N). “That was the lore, so I thought we should be ready.”

            “Good call,” said Sam, sitting up and hurriedly pulling the clown mask off.

            “Come on,” said Dean, standing. “We gotta get after Mr. Blind.”

            “We failed at stopping the summoning,” said (Y/N), grimacing and standing.

            “Sure as hell did, but now we got bigger problems,” said Dean.

            “Bigger than another step towards Lucifer getting free?” said Sam, following Dean to the door.

            “We gotta stop Samhain from raising his forces of evil,” said Dean. “One problem at a time.”

            “Where would you go to raise all the dark forces of the night?” asked (Y/N).

            “A cemetery,” said Sam.

            “Sounds like the best place,” agreed (Y/N), getting into the impala as Dean unlocked it.

            He sped down the roads towards the cemetery they’d scoped out when getting the lay of the town.

            “So, this demon’s pretty powerful,” said Sam.

            “Yeah,” said Dean.

            Sam took a deep breath. “It might take more than the usual weapons.”

            Dean and (Y/N) looked at him. They knew what that meant.

            “Sam, no,” said Dean. “You’re not using your psychic whatever.”

            “But—”

            “Don’t even think about it.” Dean’s protective older brother tone had appeared. “Ruby’s knife is enough.”

            “Why?” said Sam.

            “Because the angel said so, for one,” said Dean.

            “I thought you said they were a bunch of fanatics!” said Sam.        

            “Castiel doesn’t seem so bad,” said (Y/N). “He listened to Dean, didn’t he? I think he’s right on this one.”

            “I don’t know,” said Sam, shaking his head. “It doesn’t seem like they’re right about much.”

            “Look, forget the angels, okay?” said Dean. “You said yourself, these powers—it’s like playing with fire.”

            “Right,” said (Y/N), nodding emphatically. “You should at least trust yourself.”

            “Please,” said Dean, holding Ruby’s knife up to Sam.

            Sam paused, swallowed any more words, and took the knife.

            They screeched into the cemetery, and they were out of the car in a moment. Cries were coming from a crypt, and they ran towards it. A bunch of teenagers were trying to escape, but they were locked in. Blood splattered the ground in front of graves that were opening. Samhain had been there, and he was still somewhere in the graveyard.

            “Help them,” said Sam instantly.

            “Dude, you’re not going off on your own!” said Dean.        

            “Do it!” said Sam.

            “You two go, I’ll get them,” said (Y/N).

            “You’re not working on your own,” said Sam.

            “Make up your mind before Samhain gets away,” said (Y/N). They pulled out their gun. “Move back!” Sam saw they had it and ran off.

            “Sam!” said Dean, but he heard a low growl from within the crypt and paused. Monsters. More of them. He couldn’t leave (Y/N) to fight them on their own.

            The scared teenagers ran back, and (Y/N) aimed at the lock. They fired, and the bullet hit. Dean pushed the doors open.

            “Go!” he said, and the partiers didn’t need another word. They ran for it, leaving the hunters to face the monsters rising.

            The graves rattled as monsters tried to push their ways out. One fell to the ground and shattered. Dean swung his gun to point at it as a zombie pulled its way out of the shelf. More began to do the same, and Dean opened his bag of weapons. He tossed a bat to (Y/N), and he held up a poker.

            “Bring it on, stinky,” said Dean.

            (Y/N) spun the bat in their grip, testing it. The zombies lunged, and Dean and (Y/N) swung. Dean pierced the zombie’s head, knocking it down, and pinned it down with a silver stake—the only way to keep it down. (Y/N) ducked as a zombie lunged and hit its legs. The zombie crumpled, and Dean stabbed it into the ground. One by one, they took out the zombies together, (Y/N) using the bat to knock the zombies down, Dean keeping them down with silver stakes.

            Heels clicked, and (Y/N) spun and swung. The figure of a woman before them glitched and reappeared behind them. A force pushed them forward, and they hit a wall. Dean jumped to his feet, but the same force sent him flying.

            “Ghosts,” he grimaced.

            “Great, it’s a Halloween party,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s it,” said Dean. “We’re torching everybody.” He lunged for his bag, tossed (Y/N) a poker, and grabbed gasoline. “Cover me.”

            (Y/N) did so. Every ghost that approached, they swung at while Dean threw gasoline everywhere in the crypt. Grabbing his light, Dean looked at (Y/N) as they hit another ghost with the iron.

            “Get ready to run!” said Dean.

            (Y/N)’s iron poker slashed through another ghost. “Got it!”

            Dean lit the gasoline, and fire lurched to life. Dean and (Y/N) bolted to the entrance of the crypt as the bodies and bones began to burn. The ghosts let out ghastly screams as their spirits burnt with their bones. Panting, they emerged from the crypt, covered in soot and blood.

            “We need to find Sam,” said Dean instantly.

            They bolted for farther into the cemetery, towards a church-like structure. Holding their holds—not that they would do much—they rounded a corner into a hallway where shouts of exertion bounced off the walls. They drew up short.

            Samhain stood before Sam, straining to approach him. Sam’s hand was raised and his face screwed up in concentration. His psychic abilities held Samhain back. Dean’s hand dropped from the strap of his bag in disappointment, and (Y/N) shifted, unsure what to do. Sam saw them, and his eyes flicked from Samhain to Dean and (Y/N) and back again. He had lied.

            Samhain forced himself a step closer, and Sam groaned. He held his head while he strained to keep his powers working. Black smoke began to exorcize from Don’s body. It flooded from the body as Sam’s face screwed up in pain. Blood dripped from his nose, but he put his all into expelling Samhain from this world and sending him straight back to Hell. The last of the smoke flew from Don’s body, and the corpse hit the ground with a resounding thud. The smoke flew through cracks in the ground, falling straight back to Hell, where he belonged.

            Sam’s breath came sharp and heavy from the overexertion. His shoulders heaved, and he shakily looked up at his brother. “Dean—”

            “Let’s go home, Sammy,” said Dean. He couldn’t say anything more. His disappointment was too strong.

            Sam’s gaze lowered. (Y/N) shifted. Nothing more was said. There was nothing anyone could say.

l

            (Y/N) sat down on the park bench. The tall trees and pine stood around them. People walked around, chatting and yawning after staying up the previous night. Kids ate candy from their troubles the previous night. (Y/N) turned over a piece of candy they’d taken on their walks. Unwrapping it—a purple lollipop—they stared at it. The smoky, indigo color reminded them of their necklace. They popped the lollipop into their mouth, and then they pulled their necklace from where it rested against their skin beneath their shirt. It felt right, letting it stay against them, more protective. In fact, it touched the edges of their tattoo.

            (Y/N) stared at the necklace. The witch’s words echoed in their head.

            “It’s weak. Honestly, what is it even doing for you?”

            Tracy had been wrong. The necklace hadn’t been weak. Not that (Y/N) understood how it could be strong—it was just a crystal. It wasn't truly magic, but (Y/N) had felt it, remembered their parents, and fought harder to get up from Tracy's magic. Their parents—hunters—had given them something that could help them against monsters: a gift of love that reminded them to fight.

            Mom. Dad.

            (Y/N)’s heart cracked as the memories well up. Hugs. Kisses on the forehead. Soft hands wiping tears from their eyes. Cups of tea to warm their heart. Gardening together. Lessons and “silly” stories of centuries past. Sitting on the couch with the TV on. Hikes through the woods. Pointing out the animals and plants they passed. Love. Each moment—from the insignificant to the emotional—felt precious in (Y/N)’s mind.

            A tear fell down (Y/N)’s cheek, and they sniffled. I miss my mom and dad. More tears trembled in their eyes and fell, promptly becoming a waterfall. Drawing their feet up onto the bench, (Y/N) hugged their knees and buried their face in their knees. They felt so alone. They wanted their mom and dad back. They wanted them back more than they could bear.

Taglist:

@snowy-violet

@girgal73

@neenieweenie

@yummycement

@pain-in-the-ashe

@w0mank1sser

@taeswolfie

@yappydoo

@demonic-insomniac

@aew-regression-cove

@grippledee-galaxy

@lemmejustreadman

@coffeecloud135

@star-maker-rain-dancer

@introvertathome

@trashcannotbealive

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

@dmitrytherat

@paastaboi

@kaz-2y5-spn

[anonymousewrites]

I love witch-themed Supernatural episodes. They're so much fun (and that's why I love Rowena. She brings a lovely witch influence with her to the series <3)

[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Twelve

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Twelve: Threat to Smite

Summary: While hunting witches, angels show up. Somehow, angels are worse.

            “Is this all for you today?” said the store clerk.

            “Yep,” said (Y/N). Three masks—classic ghost, clown, and devil—sat on the counter.

            The store clerk scanned them, and (Y/N) swiped the credit card their parents had left. Who knew how it worked, but it did.

            “Have a nice day,” said the Clerk, handing the bag of masks over.

            “Thanks,” said (Y/N), heading out of the store. They folded up the small, cloth masks and stuck them in their pocket. Maybe they’d come in helpful.

            Wandering back towards the motel, (Y/N) looked around at the people running around in excitement at the day. They had no idea that a demon was going to be summoned to bring hell on earth. They had no idea that Lilith was trying to free the Devil. (There was a lot of summoning, to be frank). (Y/N) couldn’t criticize them. They had been clueless to this world until recently. Until tragedy. If they never had to face that heartbreak, (Y/N) would be happy for them.

            (Y/N) arrived back at the motel and headed to their room. They unlocked the door and stepped inside. Instantly, they felt on edge. Something felt…off. (Y/N) looked around and stepped forward carefully. No one appeared. Nothing attacked. Still, (Y/N) didn’t doubt their instincts. They lived in a world of magic and witches. If something felt wrong, it probably was. (Y/N) wasn’t about to get killed because they were stupid enough to let down their guard.

            (Y/N) paused. The painting. It was…off. It was hanging slightly crooked. Just barely, but (Y/N)’s eyes had been drawn there. They walked over and picked up the painting, taking it off the wall. Tucked behind the painting was a small hex bag.

            (Y/N) sucked in a breath. They were extraordinarily glad (and lucky) they had noticed something was off. Otherwise, they were going to be lucky sacrifice number three. (Y/N) grabbed their lighter, tossed the hex bag in the bathroom sink, and set it aflame. That would eliminate the magic.

            “Good. You found it.”

            (Y/N) jumped, turned, and grabbed for a weapon. Their eyes widened. Castiel and another man (angel?) stood beside him.

            “What-who-hi?” (Y/N) wasn’t sure how to deal with an angel appearing to talk to them.

            “Hello, (Y/N).” They didn’t question how Castiel knew their name. “Have you found the witch?”

            “Sam and Dean know who it is. They’re out looking for her,” said (Y/N). They had finished with the pottery teacher and moved on to find Tracy.

            The door of the motel room opened again, and Sam and Dean entered. Sam grabbed for his gun the instant her saw Castiel.

            “Who are you—?!”

            “Sam, Sam, wait, it’s Castiel,” said Dean, pushing Sam’s gun down. He glared at the other man. “Him, I don’t know. (Y/N)?”

            “They got here right before you arrived,” said (Y/N), moving to Sam and Dean’s side. The angels still freaked them out, if they were honest. They were super powerful and mysterious, and (Y/N) had no idea what they wanted or if they’d be able to give it to them.

            Sam’s eyes widened as Castiel stepped forward.

            “Hello, Sam,” said Castiel.

            “Oh my god,” said Sam, smiling slightly in awe. “Er, I didn’t mean to—sorry.” He stumbled awkwardly. “It’s an honor. Really, I-I’ve heard a lot about you.” He extended a hand.

            Castiel stared at it before taking it. “And I you.” Sam swallowed. The tone wasn’t good. “Sam Winchester—the boy with the demon blood.” Castiel put his other hand over Sam’s. “Glad to hear you’ve ceased your extracurricular activities.” Sam furrowed his brow.

            “Let’s keep it that way,” said the other angel, not even turning from the window.

            (Y/N) decided then and there they much preferred Castiel.

            “Yeah, okay, chuckles,” said Dean. “Who’s your friend?”

            “This raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?” asked Castiel.

            “Why?” said Dean.

            “Dean, have you located the witch?” questioned Castiel.

            “Yes, we’ve located the witch,” said Dean.

            “And is the witch dead?” said Castiel.

            “No, but—”

            Dean cut Sam off. “We know who it is.”

            “Apparently, the witch knows who you are, too,” said Castiel.

            “What?” said Sam.

            (Y/N) grabbed the hex bag they’d burnt. “I found this behind a painting.”

            “If they hadn’t found it, they would be dead,” said Castiel.

            “You left the room?” said Sam, instantly feeling protectiveness and frustration well up in him.

            “I needed to buy something,” said (Y/N) defensively. “Masks in case of Samhain.”

            “(Y/N),” said Sam.

            “Sam, not the time. They found the hex bag, and if the witch doesn’t know we got it, she doesn’t know we’re still alive or that she needs another sacrifice,” said Dean.

            “She’ll know soon,” said Castiel. “Do you know where the witch is now?”

            “We’re working on it,” said Dean, and he and Sam exchanged a look.

            “That’s unfortunate,” said Castiel, tone flat.

            “What do you care?” said Dean.

            Castiel glanced at the other angel as if asking permission before answering. “The raising of Samhain is one of the 66 Seals.”

            “Of course it is,” said (Y/N).

            “So this is about your buddy Lucifer,” said Dean, irritation winding into his tone.

            “Lucifer is no friend of ours,” said the other angel.

            “It’s just an expression,” said Dean. Angels were weird.

            “Lucifer cannot rise,” said Castiel firmly. “The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs.”

            “Okay. Great,” said Dean. Good to know the angels were on their side.

            “What does that mean?” said (Y/N) slowly, feeling the solemnity of Castiel’s tone. The other angel’s presence also signified something important—dangerous—here.

            “It means they tells us where the witch is, and we gank her,” said Dean.

            “We are not omniscient. The witch is powerful,” said Castiel.

            “Enough of this.” The other angel spoke.

            “Who are you, and why should I care?” snapped Dean, frustrated with the melodrama of the other angel.

            “This is Uriel,” said Castiel. “He’s what you might call…a specialist.” Uriel faced them.

            “A specialist?” repeated (Y/N), furrowing their brow.

            Uriel’s gaze was long and hard, but (Y/N) just stared right back. Castiel swallowed at the question. Dean noticed.

            “What are you gonna do?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

            “You—all of you, you need to leave this town immediately,” said Castiel.

            “Why?” asked (Y/N). They had a feeling they already knew.

            “Because we’re about to destroy it,” said Castiel.

            Dean whirled on Uriel. “So this is your plan?” he snapped incredulously. “You’re gonna smite the whole freakin’ town?”

            “We’re out of time,” said Castiel. Uriel just stared evenly back at Dean. “The witch has to die. The seal must be saved.”

            “There are a thousand people here,” said Sam.

            “1,214,” said Uriel, tone bored.

            “And you’re willing to kill them all?” Sam’s pained voice spoke of the trust he’d already put in the angels and already been let down by.

            “This isn’t the first time I’ve…purified a city,” said Uriel.

            (Y/N)’s nose wrinkled in disgust. He spoke as if he was proud that he murdered thousands of people—some, probably most, innocent. Children. “And you’re proud of that?” If this is what angels were…they were dicks.

            Uriel narrowed his eyes at their outburst, and Dean and Sam shifted in front of (Y/N).

            “Look, I understand this is regrettable,” said Castiel.

            “Regrettable?” scoffed Dean incredulously.

            “We have to hold the line,” said Castiel. “Too many seals have broken already.”

            “So you screwed the pooch on some seals, and now this town has to pay the price?” said Dean, infuriated at the injustice of it.

            “It’s the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion,” said Castiel. “There’s a bigger picture here.”

            “Right…’Cause, uh, you’re bigger-picture kind of guys,” said Dean sarcastically.

            Castiel stepped closer to Dean. “Lucifer cannot rise. He does, and Hell rises with him. Is that something that you’re willing to risk?” He searched Dean’s gaze, and Dean swallowed under the intensity.

            “We’ll stop this witch before she summons anyone,” said Sam, interrupting the strange staring contest going on. “Your seal won’t be broken, and no one has to die.”

            “We’re wasting time with these mud monkeys,” said Uriel, tone dismissive. His slight sneer spoke of his disdain for humanity.

            Castiel swallowed, whatever decision he was going to make now made by Uriel. “I’m sorry.” He stepped back from Dean. “But we have our orders.”

            “No, you can’t do this. You-You’re angels,” said Sam, knowing the truth but wanting it to be different. “I mean, aren’t you supposed to—” Uriel scoffed “—You’re supposed to show mercy.” Anger overcome his previous awe.

            “Says who?” said Uriel, a condescending smirk.

            “We have no choice.” Castiel’s refusal to face Dean spoke of deeper feelings on the matter, though.

            “Of course you have a choice,” said Dean harshly. “I mean, come on, what, you’ve never-never questioned a crap order? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?”

            “Look, even if you can’t understand it, have faith the plan is just,” said Castiel.

            “How can you believe that?” said (Y/N), astounded at the lack of critical (independent) thinking.

            “Because it comes from Heaven,” said Castiel, finally facing the humans again. “That makes it just.”

            “It must be nice to be so sure of yourselves,” snapped Dean.

            “Tell me something, Dean,” said Castiel. “When your father gave you an order, didn’t you obey?”

            Dean swallowed and straightened. That was as a deep hit, a sharp dig into Dean’s past. (Y/N) was silent as they saw anger rise to the surface. However, Dean’s gaze remained firm, not giving in to his anger—for the moment.

            “Sorry, boys, it looks like the plans have changed,” said Dean.

            Castiel furrowed his brow ever-so-slightly and tilted his head as he tried to understand the look in Dean’s eyes.

            “You think you can stop us?” challenged Uriel.

            “No,” said Dean. “But if you’re gonna smite this whole town…” He walked right up to Uriel, his voice carrying his own challenge, his own dare. “Then you’re gonna have to smite us with it because we are not leaving. You went to the trouble of busting me out of Hell. I figure I’m worth something to the man upstairs. You want to waste it?” It was a risky move, but Dean was made of risk. “Go ahead. See how He digs that.”

            “I will drag you out of here myself,” said Uriel, voice low.

            “Yeah, but you’ll have to kill me,” said Dean. He was not cowering to this angel or any angel. “Then we’re back to the same problem. I mean, come on. You’re gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch? Sounds to me like you’re compensating for something.” He and Uriel stared at one another for a long moment. Dean finally turned away, but it wasn’t from losing. “We can do this. We will find that witch. We will stop the summoning.” He looked into Castiel’s eyes as he spoke firmly.

            “Castiel, I will not let these—”

            “Enough.” Castiel interrupted Uriel. His gaze didn’t break from Dean’s. “I suggest you move quickly.”

            Dean straightened slightly. He had been strong and confident, but for Castiel to give in…it was still a surprise. He nodded.

            Without another word, the humans left the room. (Y/N) cast a final look back at the angels. Uriel’s angry gaze leveled on them, and (Y/N) bristled. They glared right back before swinging the motel door closed behind them.

            (Y/N) slid into the backseat of the impala. Dean and Sam sat in front. All were silent after the tense confrontation with the angels. Sam shifted, opened his mouth, and shut it again.

            “What?” said Dean.

            Sam shook his head. “Nothing.” He paused. “I thought angels would be different.”

            “They’re dicks,” said (Y/N) firmly.

            Sam grimaced. “I thought they’d be righteous.”

            “Well, they are righteous. I mean, that’s kind of the problem,” said Dean. “Of course, there’s nothing more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he’s on a holy mission.”

            “Yeah. They think it gives them the right to do anything,” said (Y/N).

            “But, I mean, this is God and Heaven?” said Sam, disheartened. “This is what I’ve been praying to?”

            (Y/N) frowned. They could understand why he was disappointed.

            “Look, man, I know you’re into the whole God thing and Jesus on a tortilla and stuff like that,” said Dean. “But just because there’s a couple of bad apples doesn’t mean the whole barrel is rotten.” He smiled at Sam. “I mean, for all we know, God hates these jerks.” He faltered as he saw Sam’s expression never lift into one of amusement. “Don’t give up on the stuff is all I’m saying. Babe Ruth was a dick, but baseball’s still a beautiful game.” Sam nodded absently, and Dean decided to focus on the case to distract Sam. “So, we need to figure out where the witch is.”

            “Right. (Y/N), can I see the hex bag?” said Sam.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), passing it up.

            Sam looked into it, and he frowned as he picked up the baby bone. He stared at it a long while before speaking. “You know how much heat it would take to char a bone like this?”

            “No,” said Dean.

            “A lot?” said (Y/N).

            “A lot,” said Sam, nodding. “I mean, more than a fire or some kitchen oven.”

            “Okay, Betty Crocker, what does that mean?” said Dean.

            Sam lifted his head. “It means we make a stop.”

            Dean looked back at (Y/N), and they shrugged. They weren’t sure what Sam meant, either.

            “Tell me where to drive,” said Dean, turning out of the parking lot.

l

            Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) crept into the empty pottery studio at the high school. Various mask projects and a decorative pumpkin lay around, but they were looking for something more specific—and significantly smaller—than those. Dean opened the lids of the kilns, but nothing was inside. Sam opened drawers at Don Stark’s desk, and (Y/N) looked at the drawers around the room.

            “So, Tracy used a kiln to char the bone?” said Dean. “What’s the big deal?” He and (Y/N), finding nothing, wandered to Sam.

            “Dean, (Y/N) found that hex bag in our room not after we talked to Tracy—”

            “—after we talked to the teacher,” said Dean, coming to Sam’s realization.

            “So is Tracy the witch or Don?” asked (Y/N).

            “Looks like Don,” said Dean. He frowned. “Or both.”

            “Great,” said (Y/N). Double the risk of Samhain rising.

            “Look,” said Sam, kneeling.

            One of Don’s desk drawers was locked with a heavy lock. He stood, looking around, and grabbed a mallet for pottery. Aiming, he struck. With a few hits, the lock came off the wood completely. He pulled the drawer open, and a plate filled with tiny bones was exposed.

            “Oh my god,” said Sam.

            “Those are all kids’, aren’t they?” said (Y/N), staring. Sam nodded, swallowing. And if only this many were left—Don had enough for a spell to raise Samhain.

l

            “The decision’s been made,” said Castiel, watching children run from house to house in costume.

            Uriel chuckled mirthlessly, sitting on the bench Castiel stood beside. “By a mud monkey.”

            “You shouldn’t call them that,” said Castiel.

            “Oh, that’s what they are,” said Uriel as if it was a fact and he was not disdainful at all. He gestured at the Halloween celebrators. “Savages, just plumbing on two legs.”

            Castiel’s gaze narrowed ever-so-slightly. “You’re close to blasphemy.”

            Uriel sighed, but he quieted. Blasphemy was something no self-respecting angel ever engaged in.

            “There’s a reason we were sent to save him,” said Castiel, thinking of Dean. “He has potential. He may succeed here.” He sat down on the bench. “At any rate…it’s out of our hands.”

            “It doesn’t have to be,” said Uriel.

            “And what would you suggest?” said Castiel, leaning forward on his knees. He already knew the answer.

            “That we drag Dean Winchester out of here, then we blow this insignificant pinprick off the map,” said Uriel matter-of-factly. Or, really, a little gleefully. He would take considerable satisfaction smiting this town after Dean’s irritating arguments against it.

            “He would not work with us if his brother and the child died at our hands,” said Castiel.

            Uriel scoffed. “As if I care for a demon-blood-sucker and an irrelevant stray.”

            “Sam Winchester is Dean’s anchor,” said Castiel. “He must live.”

            “And the urchin remains in the way as an interloper,” said Uriel.

            “Dean chose to allow them to remain for a reason. They have proven useful to the Winchesters,” said Castiel.

            (Y/N) had helped them more than once—the Witnesses, the Rougarou, and the hex bag. Besides…while Uriel looked down on them, he, too, had to see their soul. Castiel could see it clear as day: bright, dancing around them in an indigo aurora. It existed and glowed in a display far larger than a regular child’s—or adult’s. Castiel felt they were not as irrelevant as Uriel believed. (Y/N) had been to pull Dean Winchester from his grave after Castiel raised him from perdition. His Father must have chosen them to do so for a reason.

            Still, despite all this, Uriel just scoffed. The humans all remained nothing more than misshapen clay to him.

            “You know our true orders,” said Castiel firmly. He turned to look at Uriel fully. “Are you prepared to disobey?”

Taglist:

@snowy-violet

@girgal73

@neenieweenie

@yummycement

@pain-in-the-ashe

@w0mank1sser

@taeswolfie

@yappydoo

@demonic-insomniac

@aew-regression-cove

@grippledee-galaxy

@lemmejustreadman

@coffeecloud135

@star-maker-rain-dancer

@introvertathome

@trashcannotbealive

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

@dmitrytherat

@paastaboi

@kaz-2y5-spn

[anonymousewrites]

[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Eleven

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eleven: Samhain

Summary: (Y/N) gets involved in a witch hunt.

            (Y/N) crossed their arms and looked around. People were happily chatting as they walked through the fall leaves fallen on the ground. Skeletons strung from trees swayed in the breeze, pumpkins lined walkways, and fake gravestones stood in yards. Halloween had arrived in America. Tomorrow would be Trick-or-Treating and teenage parties.

            However, monsters didn’t stop for holidays. If anything, Halloween was for them. So, when a man died mysteriously of razor blades in candy, Sam, Dean, and (Y/N) had arrived to look into it. Sam and Dean were inside, dressed as FBI agents, and interviewed the widow. (Y/N), on the other hand, just stood outside, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious.

            The door of the house opened, and Sam and Dean walked out. (Y/N) straightened.

            “So?” they asked.

            “Hex bag,” said Sam, holding up a small pouch with runes drawn on.

            “A witch,” said (Y/N). There wasn’t much need for detective work on that one.

            “I hate witches,” said Dean matter-of-factly.

            “I know,” said Sam.

            “What do we do to figure out who it is?” asked (Y/N).

            “We look at the ingredients to see what the hex is for,” said Sam. “If it was part of a larger spell or something in it points to a person or practice.”

            “Like wicca who work with nature versus those that pray to gods?” said (Y/N).

            “Or ones using a demon’s magic,” said Dean.

            (Y/N) wrinkled their nose. There were other options, why do that? Demons sucked.

            Dean clapped (Y/N) and Sam on the back. “Have fun researching! I’m gonna interview neighbors for more info on Wallace.”

            (Y/N) wouldn’t be able to work in interviews until they looked physically older, so they’d be working on research for a long time. That was alright. They didn’t mind it. It reminded them of their parents telling them about magic and monsters and myths, all to help them in their job now. (Y/N) felt closer to their parents not just as a hunter but as a kid. So…research was just fine.

l

            (Y/N) flipped the hex bag over in their hands. Sam set up the computer and several books beside them, and they set it down. Carefully, (Y/N) undid the ribbon holding the hex bag together and unfolded the cloth. The entire concept of a hex bag was interesting. It smelled of ash and burnt herbs.

            Mom’s herb garden is dying by now.

            Inside lay a sprig of some plant they didn’t recognize, a tiny, burnt bone, and a silver coin. Sam picked up the coin carefully, furrowed his brow, and searched on the internet. (Y/N) took the book of plants in wicca practices and flipped through it. Some were familiar, common herbs—lavender, rosemary, thyme, mistletoe—while others were unheard of. However, (Y/N) was perfectly fine to keep going through pages, learning more, and remembering their parents. They felt…at home for just a little bit, doing the research.

            (Y/N) started from their trance-like, intense research as the motel door opened. Dean was walking in, chewing a piece of candy with a pleased look on his face and unwrapping another. Sam looked up and scoffed.

            “Really?” he said. “After that guy choked down all those razor blades?”

            “It’s Halloween, man,” said Dean. He tossed a KitKat to (Y/N).

            “Yeah,” said Sam. “For us, every day is Halloween.”

            “Thanks, Dean,” said (Y/N), biting into the KitKat.

            “See, Sam? Have some fun,” said Dean. He sat down on the arm of the couch. “Anything interesting?”

            “We’re on a witch hunt, that’s for sure,” said Sam. “And this isn’t your typical hex bag.” (Y/N) nodded in agreement.

            “No?” said Dean.

            “No,” confirmed (Y/N). “Not sure what Sam found yet, but this—” they held up the herb “—it’s called goldenthread. It’s been extinct for, like, two hundred years.”

            “And this coin is Celtic, and not a new-age knock-off, either,” said Sam. “Looks like the real deal—like six-hundred-years-old real.”

            Dean picked up the tiny bone and stared at it, unsure of its origin.

            “And that…is the charred metacarpal of a newborn baby,” said Sam, grimacing.

            “Oh, gross.” Dean put the bone down.

            (Y/N)’s stomach turned. A witch had murdered a baby for a spell. That was heartless. Obviously, magic could mean sacrifice—they knew enough stories to see that—but that was horrific and evil. If you’re going to sacrifice something, sacrifice yourself, thought (Y/N0, huffing.

            “Relax, man,” said Sam. “It’s at least a hundred years old.”

            “That doesn’t make it better,” said (Y/N), fiddling with their necklace.

            “Witches, man,” said Dean, shivering. “They’re so freaking skeevy.”

            “Yeah,” said Sam. “Well, it takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together. More juice than we’ve dealt with before, that’s for sure.”

            “Did you find anything?” asked (Y/N).

            “This Luke Wallace, he was so vanilla that he made vanilla seem spicy,” said Dean succinctly. “I can’t find any reason why somebody would want this guy dead.”

            “What if it wasn’t specifically him?” said (Y/N).

            Dean and Sam looked at them.

            “I mean, if there’s no reason to target him, then maybe the witch just needed someone dead,” said (Y/N). “Could there be a spell that needs bigger ingredients, like someone’s death?”

            “You mean he was, what, a side-effect?” said Dean.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), nodding. “There are tons of stories of witches taking lives as parts of bigger rituals, like to have youth or power.”

            “They’re right,” said Sam, glad to have someone else thinking (not that Dean didn’t, but he was very action-oriented). “It’s possible.”

            “So we have to wait and see if someone changes?” asked Dean. “More powerful, younger, prettier, whatever?”

            “That or find a suspect with a reason to want Wallace dead,” said Sam. “We don’t know anything at this point. Any theory is better than that.”

            (Y/N) straightened, pleased. They were being helpful.

l

            “Hello?”

            (Y/N) raised their head from their impromptu nap on a book. All they had wanted was to find what goldenthread could be used for to get a clue to the ritual at large (if that was what was happening), but, instead, here they were, asleep.

            Sam and (Y/N) looked at Dean on the phone.

            “Right. Got it.” He closed his phone. “Another death. Girl drowned bobbing for apples. Witnesses say she ‘couldn’t pull herself up’ and it was like some ‘force was holding her down.’ Police are blaming alcohol, but…” Dean gestured vaguely.

            “It could be another hex bag,” said Sam, nodding. “Looks like you might be right, (Y/N).”

            “I guess so,” said (Y/N), but another death wasn’t what they wanted to confirm it. They sat up properly, ran a hand through their hair, and focused on the book. “You guys go and get information. I’ll try to figure out the spell.”

            “Don’t let anyone in,” said Sam as he grabbed his suit.

            “I’m not stupid,” said (Y/N), rolling their eyes.

l

            “We’re back,” said Sam, closing the door of the motel.

            “Another heap of nothing, another vic is squeaky clean,” sighed Dean. “And no one at the scene knew the other victim.”

            “I figured it out!” said (Y/N), holding up the book excitedly as they entered.

            “You figured it out?” said Sam, surprised but glad.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), nodding. “Just check if the ingredients in the hex bag are the same as the last.”

            Sam undid the bundle. “They are.” He suspected it would be.

            “Okay,” said (Y/N), putting their book down and pointing at a page. “Listen, ‘three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest.’ ” They spun Sam’s computer around. “So, I thought, if we’ve had two deaths, we’re probably going to get a third—myths and magic love threes—so I figured this fit. I looked up the Celtic calendar because that coin has to fit in, and the final day of the final harvest is the thirty-first. Halloween.”

            Sam and Dean stared at the page. It all fit. The coin, the multiple deaths, lack of motive, timing, all of it. “Good job,” said Sam.

            “What exactly are the, uh, blood sacrifices for?” asked Dean.

            (Y/N) grimaced. “Summoning a demon called ‘Samhain.’ ”

            Sam groaned.

            “Am I supposed to be impressed?” said Dean.

            “Samhain is the origin of Halloween,” said (Y/N) before Sam spoke. “People believed Halloween was the only day of the year where veil between our plane and that of the dead was thin enough for spirits to, you know, walk the earth.”

            “Samhain’s night,” said Sam. “How do you know this?”

            “My mom and dad told me,” said (Y/N). “They always spoiled every holiday with telling me of the roots outside of Christian holidays.” They frowned. “Always had to do with monsters. Makes more sense now.”

            “How do people not know that a demon went around on Halloween?” said Dean.

            “The costumes,” said Sam. “It started back then. Masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. Samhain was exorcised centuries ago.”

            “The tradition stuck,” said Dean.

            “Should we buy masks in case the witch summons him?” suggested (Y/N).

            “Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that,” said Sam.

            Better safe than sorry, decided (Y/N).

            “Okay, so some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?” said Dean incredulously.

            “Dean, this is serious,” said Sam.

            “I am serious,” said Dean.

            “We’re talking heavyweight witchcraft,” said Sam.

            “Heavyweight?” (Y/N) really wanted to understand what the difference between easy and hard was. This spell felt exceedingly simpler than the one they’d used to send the Witnesses back to rest. Maybe you needed to actually have magic to do this one? Who knew. (Y/N) sure didn’t get it. “I guess. I mean, the witch’ll be pretty intent of pulling this off.” They gestured to the book. “It says the ritual only works once very six-hundred years.”

            “Tell me six-hundred years doesn’t bring us to—”

            “Tomorrow night,” confirmed (Y/N).

            Dean groaned. “Naturally.” That was their luck. He stared at the picture of Samhain drawn on the page. “Well, it sure is a lot of death and destruction for one demon.”

            “According to the book, he raises more evil once he’s brought back,” said (Y/N).

            “Does ‘evil’ mean anything?” said Sam.

            “Spirits stuck in bodies,” said (Y/N). “He just puppeteers them, basically. They’re an mindless army.”

            “So basically zombies,” said Dean.

            “I guess so,” said (Y/N). “But once he’s warmed up—”

            “He brings out the big guns?” guessed Sam.

            “He can bring any type of monster to him once his power grows,” said (Y/N).

            “So everything we’ve ever fought, all in one place,” said Sam. That wasn’t good.

            “It’s gonna be a slaughterhouse,” said Dean.

            (Y/N) nodded slowly. The stakes were incredibly high. They needed this witch gone and now. If they got another sacrifice down, then Samhain would rise.

            “Okay,” said Sam, standing. “We need to find who planted those hex bags. Now.”

            “I thought there wasn’t a link between the victims,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s what people said,” said Dean. “People lie.” He yawned. “I’ll stake the Wallace house out.”

            “There’s gotta be a connection between them and the second victim,” said Sam. “Even if it’s just someone who’s visited before.”

            “Should I try to figure out more about the ritual?” said (Y/N).

            Sam shook his head. “I got it. You’ve done enough. Get some rest. If we’re going up against a powerful witch, you’ll need it.”

            (Y/N) nodded.

            “You did good, kid,” said Dean, snapping and pointing at them as he headed out the door.

            (Y/N) smiled. They had done good. They were going to help people.

l

            “How’s it going?” asked Sam, putting his phone on speaker.

            The morning of Halloween had arrived and still no word from Dean. Time was slowly running out. The case needed to be solved now.

            “Awesome,” said Dean sarcastically. “Yeah, I talked with Mrs. Razor Blade again. I’ve been sitting in front of her house for hours, and I’ve got a big, steamy pile of nothing.”

            “Look, Dean, someone planted those hex bags, someone with access to both houses,” said Sam. “There’s got to be some connection.”

            “Yeah, well, I hope we find them soon ‘cause I’m starting to cramp like a—son of a bitch,” said Dean.

            “Quit whining,” said Sam.

            “No, Sam, I mean ‘son of a bitch,’ ” said Dean.

            “Did you see something?” asked (Y/N), leaning forward.

            “Tracy Davis, the cheerleader witness from the party. She’s the Wallace’s babysitter,” said Dean.

            Sam’s brows raised. “She said she didn’t know who Luke Wallace was.”

            “Exactly,” said Dean.

            “We have a suspect,” said (Y/N).

            “I’m going to look into her. Get back before she notices you,” said Sam.

            “Got it,” said Dean.

l

            “So?” said (Y/N) as Dean walked in.

            “It was definitely Tracy,” said Dean.

            “Interesting look for a centuries-old witch,” said Sam.

            “Yeah, well, if you were a six-hundred-year-old hag and you could pick any costume to come back in, wouldn’t you go for the hot cheerleader?” said Dean.

            “No, I’d go for an age where I could drink,” said (Y/N). They paused. “And vote.”

            Dean considered. Sam just rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics.

            “Well, Tracy’s not as wholesome as she looks,” said Sam. “Did some digging. Apparently, she got into a violent altercation with one of her teachers. Got suspended from school.”

            “He could be her next sacrifice, finally get to a grudge,” said (Y/N).

            “Get your suit on, Samy,” said Dean. “Time to continue our investigation.”

            (Y/N) groaned and flopped back on the bed. “And I stay here.”

            “Grow a little taller, we’ll get you a suit,” said Dean cheerfully.

Taglist:

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@girgal73

@neenieweenie

@yummycement

@pain-in-the-ashe

@w0mank1sser

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@demonic-insomniac

@aew-regression-cove

@grippledee-galaxy

@lemmejustreadman

@coffeecloud135

@star-maker-rain-dancer

@introvertathome

@trashcannotbealive

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

@dmitrytherat

@paastaboi

[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Ten

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Ten: Giving In

Summary: (Y/N) finishes their first regular hunt and learns fully what happens to people who become monsters.

            Dean parked the impala, and he, Sam, and (Y/N) got out. In the sunlight, the Montgomery house was even more unassuming and normal. To know that someone who could give in and devour another human being lived inside seemed unfathomable

            “Remember, we’re just talking. Any aggression or trouble, we leave,” said Dean sternly as they headed towards the house. “And if he attacks, we fight fire with, well, fire.”

            “Got it,” said (Y/N).

            “He’s in the backyard,” said Sam, looking over the fence. “Just…staring at plants.”

            “Weirder by the day,” said Dean.

            Sam glared at him before leading the way into the yard. “Jack Montgomery?” Jack turned, gaze faraway. “I’m Sam Winchester. This is my brother, Dean, and our…cousin, (Y/N).”

            Fair enough, having a random teenager around is really suspicious, thought (Y/N).

            “We need to talk,” said Sam.

            Jack looked at each of them in suspicious confusion. “About?”

            “About you,” said Sam. “About how you’re changing.”

            “Excuse me?” said Jack. His tone was affronted, but fear rested below the surface.

            “You’re probably feeling your bones move under your skin, and your appetite’s reaching, you know, Hungry Hungry Hippo levels,” said Dean bluntly. “How am I doing so far?”

            Jack’s eyes widened slightly. “Who the hell are you guys?”

            “We’re people who know a little something about a little something,” said Dean.

            “We can help,” said (Y/N). “At least, we hope.”

            “Please, just hear us out,” said Sam.

            Jack paused, but then he nodded. They somehow knew what he was feeling. It couldn’t hurt to listen. The changes that were happening…it scared him. He broke someone’s arm, nearly bit his wife…What if the next time he seriously hurt someone or worse? Jack would listen.

            Slowly, Sam explained the situation, leaving out the hunter stuff. No need to spook Jack. He just needed to hear about his Rougarou genes and what would trigger his change—what he would need to stave off for the rest of his life.

            “A-A what?” repeated Jack, pacing slightly.

            “A Rougarou,” said Dean. “Sounds made-up, I know, but, believe me, it’s not.”

            Jack ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, I’ve noticed certain things. I mean, some strange things, but I just—I don’t know. I’m sick or something.”

            “Your father was one of these things,” said Sam. Jack furrowed his brow. “Your real father. He passed it on to you.”

            Jack shook his head. “No.” This was too much to believe. He knew something was happening to him, but this was ridiculous. “Are you guys listening to yourselves? You sound like you’re—”

            “Crazy?” said (Y/N). “We know. And we know you’re hungry and you’ll only get hungrier.”

            “Hungrier for…?” prompted Jack.

            “Long pig,” said Dean. “You know, a little manburger helper may have crossed your mind already.”

            Jack faltered. “No.” He spoke shakily.

            “It doesn’t have to be like this, Jack. You can fight it off. Others have,” said Sam, trying to calm him.

            Jack waved a hand, taking a step back.

            “We’re not gonna lie to you, though. It’s not gonna be easy,” said Dean. “You’re gonna feel like an alcoholic swimming in whiskey.”

            “But you have to say no, or it’ll be over for you,” said (Y/N).

            “ ‘Over for me?’ ” repeated Jack.

            “You’ll change permanently,” said (Y/N).

            “And then we’ll have to stop you,” said Sam, brow creased. He didn’t look forward to that fact, but it was true.

            Jack swallowed. “Stop me? My dad—did, uh, somebody stop him?” He understand what it meant.

            Sam shifted. “Yes,” he answered honestly.

            Jack nodded. “Get off my property right now.” He wouldn’t hear more of this from these people who threatened to kill him.

            Dean sighed, exasperated with the direction this was going. If he didn’t believe them and try, he’d be another monster.

            “I see you guys again, I’m calling the cops,” said Jack.

            “Jack, your wife, everybody you know, they’re in danger,” said Sam.

            “Now!” shouted Jack.

            Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) exchanged looks and walked out of the yard.

            “Good talk,” said Dean.

            Sam’s jaw clenched.

            “What do we do?” asked (Y/N). “Just wait forever until he maybe cracks?”

            “We tell Travis to keep an eye on him,” said Dean.

            “He’ll just try to kill him,” protested (Y/N).

            “Travis is rough around the edges, but he won’t go behind our backs,” said Dean.

            “Then we’ll keep an eye on him for the next few days,” said Sam. “Tell Travis we’ll got a handle on it.”

            (Y/N) frowned. “But…” they trailed off and shook their head. There wasn’t much more they could do. That was the best plan they had.

l

            (Y/N), Sam, and Dean watched as Jack walked the empty streets of town. Although he was outwardly dismissive of their warnings, he wasn’t going home. He was protecting his wife through distance. However, temptation—humans—were everywhere on earth.

            Jack paused, and the hunters sat up straighter. He stared upwards at an apartment. In a window, a girl was undressing, and Jack just stared, hungry.

            Don’t. Come on, don’t do it, thought (Y/N), willing him to step back and walk away.

            Instead, Jack moved forward towards the fire escape.

            “Damn it, Jack, no!” said Sam, grabbing for their flamethrowers. Now they had to stop him from hurting anyone.

            “Come on,” said Dean, getting out of the car.

            “I’ve got the back,” said (Y/N), already knowing they had to be.

            It was a race for the girl’s floor. As Jack ran up the fire escape, Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) ran to the front doors of the apartment building. Throwing them open, the three sprinted for the stairs. One flight, two flights, three flights of stairs passed. Thankfully, no screams rang out. They had a chance to save someone’s life.

            They arrived on the right floor, and Sam gestured to the door that would correspond to the window they’d seen. Dean nodded, and they raised a leg together to kick. The door flew open, and the woman inside screamed.

            Dean looked around for signs of Jack. “We’re here to save you, I guess…” he trailed off.

            Sam and (Y/N) looked around, but Jack was nowhere to be seen.

            “He’s not here,” said (Y/N). He hadn’t given in.

            The woman reached for a baseball bat, staring at them all in shock.

            “We should go,” said Sam, backing away.

            “Yeah,” said Dean.

            They hurried out with Dean closing the door behind them. The girl just stared in confusion and apprehension.

            “So Jack left,” said (Y/N).

            “He didn’t give in,” said Sam, relieved.

            “But we lost him, and he’s a live wire!” said Dean.

            “He’s in distress. He’s scared,” said (Y/N). “He’s going to go home.”

            “I thought he was avoiding his wife to protect her,” said Dean as they headed for the impala.

            “Yeah, but he’s not thinking clearly. He’s going to go to where he’s safe—his wife,” said (Y/N). “Family.” They missed their family’s safety.

            “(Y/N)’s right,” said Sam.

            “Let’s go,” said Dean, putting his food down on the gas.

l

            The impala screeched to a halt outside of the Montgomery house. Hesitantly, Sam, Dean, and (Y/N) got out. There were no sounds of screams, but a familiar car was parked outside the house.

            “That’s Travis’s,” said (Y/N).

            “At least we know where he is,” said Dean.

            “That stupid son of a bitch,” said Sam.

            He quickly headed for the front door and tried the handle. It opened, unlocked, and he pushed it further. Dean and Sam stepped in first, flamethrowers tight in their hands. (Y/N) peeked in next, keeping an eye on anywhere someone could be hiding—Travis or Jack.

            Together, the three looked at the moonlight room. Slanted shadows and silver light illuminated a bright red stain. It was massive. (Y/N) swallowed. The crimson mark was as big as a human body. It trailed out of the living room, the body having been dragged.

            Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) exchanged looks and followed it. Behind the couch, bones and pieces of indigestible human flesh lay scattered on the ground. (Y/N) swallowed.

            “Oh, god,” said Sam.

            “Think that’s Travis?” said Dean, keeping an eye out around them.

            “What’s left of him,” said Sam with a heavy sigh.

            “Jack gave in,” said (Y/N), disappointment curling in their gut.

            “You were right,” said Sam.

            Dean opened his mouth, and a body slammed into him.

            “Dean!” shouted Sam.

            Jack had Dean pinned down, and Sam raised his flamethrower. Jack moved faster than he could think and tackled Sam, grabbing the flamethrower. Sam fought for it, but Jack slammed it down on Sam’s head. Sam slumped down, unconscious.

            “Sam!” shouted Dean.

            (Y/N) was already firing. The spark hit Jack, and he dodged. He let out a low hiss as his arm burned, and he rushed towards (Y/N). They dodged to the side and were forced to drop the flamethrower. Dean scooped it up to fight, and Jack swung Sam’s at him. It hit Dean, and he hit the wall. He slumped to the ground, and Jack cocked his head, walking closer.

            “Jack, don’t do it,” snapped (Y/N), raising their flamethrower. It was clicked to fire.

            “Look at what you did. Look at what you made me!” shouted Jack. Blood dripped down his face, the face that no longer resembled that of a human. “He tried to burn my wife alive!”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. “He—What—Jack, he shouldn’t have tried to do that.”

            “I had to protect her,” sneered Jack.

            (Y/N) looked from him to Dean’s unconscious body. If they didn’t act, Dean and Sam would both get killed. (Y/N) would, too.

            “Okay. I get it,” said (Y/N). “I’m sorry he threatened her. But Jack…don’t do this.”

            His eyes had wandered to Dean’s body, his mouth parting. He didn’t respond to their words. (Y/N) could see what Travis had spoken of—base instinct. He knelt.”

            “Don’t you dare.” (Y/N) lifted their lighter, and Jack’s head snapped to them.

            He snarled and lunged. (Y/N) lit the flame. Jack ran straight into the flame and let out a cry as he fell to his knees, burning. (Y/N) stepped back, watching him. Dean and Sam’s heads raised from the ground as they heard the shouts, instantly in fear for one another. They pushed themselves up and stared at Jack, burning. Their gaze raised to (Y/N), who looked back at them evenly.

            (Y/N) may be a young hunter, but they were proving strong. They were determined to be.

l

            Silence reigned in the car ride away from Carthage. (Y/N) stared out of the window as Sam and Dean sat in the front seat.

            “You did the right thing,” said Dean suddenly. “That guy was a monster. There was no going back.”

            (Y/N) glanced at him. “I know,” they said. “I just wish he hadn’t…given in.”

            Dean nodded. Another long, awkward pause. Dean spoke again. “Sam, I just want to say I’m sorry.” Sam glanced at him. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately.”

            Sam sighed. “Don’t worry about it, Dean.”

            Dean hesitated. “It’s just that your psychic thing…it scares the crap out of me.”

            “If it’s all the same, I’d rather not talk about it.” The disappointment of Jack becoming a monster had left a heavy weight on Sam’s shoulders.

            “Wait a minute, what? You don’t want to talk about it? You?” Dean was confused.

            “There’s nothing to say,” said Sam, tired and annoyed. “I can’t keep explaining myself to you. I can’t make you understand!”

            “You should try,” said (Y/N).

            “I can’t!” snapped Sam.

            (Y/N) shrank back in their seat.

            “Because this thing, this blood, it’s not in you the way it’s in me,” said Sam. “It’s just something I gotta deal with.”

            “Not alone,” said Dean.

            Sam just looked away. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. These powers—it’s playing with fire. I’m done with them.”

            Dean and (Y/N) looked at him in surprise.

            “I’m done with everything,” said Sam.

            “Really?” said Dean uncertainly. “Well, that’s a relief. Thank you.”

            “Don’t thank me. I’m not doing it for you,” said Sam. “Or for the angels. Or for anybody. This is my choice.”

            But the question was how strong could Sam be in his choice against temptation? How strong had Jack been?

            The answer was not strong enough for one.

Taglist:

@snowy-violet

@girgal73

@neenieweenie

@yummycement

@pain-in-the-ashe

@w0mank1sser

@taeswolfie

@yappydoo

@demonic-insomniac

@aew-regression-cove

@grippledee-galaxy

@lemmejustreadman

@coffeecloud135

@star-maker-rain-dancer

@introvertathome

@trashcannotbealive

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

@dmitrytherat

@paastaboi

[anonymousewrites]

didn't even realize that one hell of a love has already finished, i was waiting for an update last thursday 😭

damn now i need to wait another year or so for the next arc, already missing felis and corvus' 😔

Aww, I'm so sorry! But don't worry, there will be holiday specials! You'll see them again <3

[anonymousewrites]

I am loving Nobody’s solider. I can’t wait for next Monday for the new book. (love your writing brw ❤️)

(real footage of me waiting for next chapter to come out)

Awww thank you! Made my day seeing this. I love posting Nobody's Soldier, I've had so much fun writing it!

[anonymousewrites]

I finished writing Nobody's Soldier Book 3?? Hello?????? Cruising right now. Pity Supernatural isn't on Netflix while I'm abroad

(instead, I shall be working on Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom Book 2. :) )

Anyways, that's your random update

[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Nine

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Nine: Choice to Stay Human

Summary: (Y/N), Dean, and Sam investigate a man who might or might not be a monster, and moral arguments of monstrosity arise.

            Dean opened the door to the motel room, and he grinned. Sam let out a chuckle and shook his head. (Y/N) peered around them at the stranger in the room. Were they not weirded out by someone breaking in?

            “Travis!” greeted Dean.

            Oh, it’s another hunter. Are all hunters this weird? wondered (Y/N).

            Dean patted Sam on the shoulder. “See, Sam, told you we should have hid the beer.”

            “Smartass,” said Travis jovially, standing. “Get over here!” He hugged Dean and patted him on the back. One of his hands was bandaged up. “Good to see you.”

            “You, too,” said Dean.

            Travis hugged Sam, too, and Sam smiled, “Good to see you.”

            “Man, you got tall, kid,” said Travis, looking him up and down. “How long has it been?”

            “Oh, got to be ten years,” said Sam.

            “Oh, gotta be,” said Travis. He looked at the doorway. “When the hell did one of you become a dad?”

            (Y/N)’s nose wrinkled. “How old do you think I am?” they huffed.

            “Kids are kids,” said Travis, shrugging.

            “Travis, this is (Y/N),” said Sam.

            “They’re a hunter,” said Dean.

            “In-training,” said Sam quickly.

            “Hey,” said (Y/N).

            “Takin’ after your dad, huh? Good, good,” said Travis. He nodded at (Y/N). “We need more people out their killing monsters. We’re a little shorthanded.” He gestured to Sam and Dean. “In fact, that’s why I asked you two down. Thanks for the help.” He sat down, and Sam, Dean, and (Y/N) joined him. “So, you track down Montgomery?”

            “Yeah, we found him at his home,” said Sam.

            “And?” asked Travis, leaning in.

            “Well, he had a hell of a case of the munchies, topped off with a burger that he forgot to cook,” said Dean.

            Travis sighed. “That’s him, alright.”

            “What is he?” asked (Y/N).

            “We got a Rougarou on our hands,” said Travis.

            (Y/N) didn’t recognize the name and looked at Sam and Dean. They appeared just as clueless.

            “A…Rougarou?” repeated Dean. “Is that made up? That sounds made up.”

            “They’re mean, nasty little suckers—rotted teeth, wormy skin, the works,” said Travis.

            “Montgomery looked human,” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

            “Yeah, guy was wearing a cell phone on his belt,” said Dean.

            “He’ll turn ugly soon enough,” said Travis. “They start out human, for all intents and purpose.”

            “So, what, they go through some sort of metamorphosis?” asked Sam.

            “Yep, like a maggot turning into a bull fly,” said Travis. “About age thirty, they start changing—bones shift around, animal instincts kick in. But most of all, they’re hungry.”

            “Hungry for what?” said Dean.

            “At first, for everything, but then…for long pig,” said Travis.

            Sam scoffed.

            “Long pig?” said Dean.

            (Y/N) shrugged as he looked at them. “No clue.”

            “He means human flesh,” said Sam.

            “Oh, makes sense,” said (Y/N). That would be what a monster ate.

            “And that is my word of the day,” said Dean, way too cheerfully.

            “Hunger grows in ‘till they can’t fight it, ‘till they got to take themselves a big, juicy chomp, and then it happens,” said Travis, continuing with his information.

            “What happens?” asked Sam.

            “They transform quickly and fast,” said Travis grimly. “One bite’s all it takes—eyes, teeth, skin all turns. No going back, either. They feed once; they’re a monster forever. And our man Jack’s headed there on the bullet train.”

            “Well, how’d you find this guy if he’s a walking, talking human?” asked Dean.

            “Let’s just say it runs in his family,” said Travis.

            “You mean…” Sam trailed off.

            “Killed his daddy back in ’78,” said Travis. “Son of a bitch mangled eight bodies before I put him down. Guy used to be a dentist. Cadillac, trophy wife. Little did I know, pregnant trophy wife. She put the boy up for adoption. By the time I found out, he was long gone, lost in the system.”

            “You were going to kill a baby?” said (Y/N), brow furrowing.

            Travis let out a sigh. “I’m not sure I wanted to. The idea of hunting down some poor kid…I don’t think I’d have had the heart.” He shook his head. “No. Wanted to wait, make damn sure I had the right man.”

            So his problem was killing an innocent kid on accident. (Y/N) felt themself stiffen slightly, and they rubbed their necklace between two fingers. Is the child of a monster a monster? By DNA, yeah. But if they don’t know and don’t get the choice to try to avoid turning, is it entirely their fault? After they turn, sure, but a kid… (Y/N) didn’t think they’d be able to look a child in the eye, no clue as to why they were being hunted or that they were going to become a danger to people, and kill them. Was (Y/N) wrong in that? Or were they just failing as a hunter? I need to be stronger. My parents could do this. I can, too. I’m their kid. (Y/N) didn’t want to falter and become weak now. Not when they needed to be strong.

            “Apparently, I do,” continued Travis. He clapped his hands. “So, let’s get to work. We gotta be ready to kill him before he starts chomping down on bodies.”

            “What works on them?” asked Dean.

            Travis looked at him. “Fire.”

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            “The only way I found to kill these bastards—deep fry ‘em,” said Travis as he worked on the flamethrowers the hunters were making.

            “Well, that’s gonna be…horrible,” said Dean, grimacing. It was going to be a messy hunter. He liked ghosts so he could burn some bones and be done. Not frying human (Rougarou?) skin. “Is that what you did to Jack’s dad?”

            “Uh-huh,” said Travis.

            The door of the motel opened, and Sam walked in. A pile of papers was in his hand, and he looked at the flamethrowers. “Not wasting any time, are you?” he remarked.

            “None to waste,” said Travis. “This guy hulks out, we won’t be finding bodies, just remains.”

            “What if he doesn’t hulk out?” said Sam, sitting.

            (Y/N) perked up. “Is there a chance?”

            Sam nodded. “I did a little homework.” He waved the papers. “I’ve checking out the lore on Rougarous.”

            “What, my thirty years of experience not good enough for you?” said Travis.

            Sam chuckled nervously. “What? No. No, I-I just wanted to be prepared. I mean, not that you didn’t—I mean—”

            “I was curious,” said (Y/N). “I wanted to know more since I’m new. I don’t want to die on my first job.” They put on a smile as they covered for Sam, sensing Travis’s annoyance.

            Sam relaxed slightly. “Yeah. (Y/N) wanted extra information.” He glanced at (Y/N) in thanks at the small show of helpfulness. He still didn’t like them hunting, but at least they seemed to be a good person.

            “And you know how Sam is with his research. He loves it. Keeps it under his mattress,” said Dean, adding to the ploy to support his brother.

            “Look, everything you said checked out, of course, but, uh, I found a couple of interesting stories about people who do have this Rougarou gene or whatever,” said Sam. “See, they start to turn, but they never take the final step.”

            “Really?” said Dean, surprised.

            “See, if they never eat human flesh, they don’t fully transform,” said Sam.

            “So, what, go vegan, stay human?” said Dean.

            “Basically,” said Sam.

            “So we could help Jack control his condition instead of killing him?” said (Y/N).

            “It would be a lot of eating raw meat, but as long as it’s not—”

            “Long pig,” said Dean, proudly using his new word.

            “—right, then he stays human,” said Sam.

            Dean smiled slightly, and (Y/N) looked at Travis.

            “Look…” he began, and (Y/N) instinctually knew this was bad news. “Good on you for doing your due diligence, Sam. But those are fairy tales. Fact is, every Rougarou I ever saw or heard of took that bite.”

            “Well, duh,” said (Y/N). “But that’s because you hear of the ones that are killing and eating people. If they never start doing that, then they’d never be on a hunter’s radar, right?”

            “Do vampires ever not drain blood? Do werewolves not eat hearts? No, kid, welcome to the real world,” said Travis. “Monsters are monsters. That’s how it works.” He looked at Dean and Sam. “Don’t they know how this works?”

            “They have a point,” said Sam as (Y/N) bristled.

            They despised when people talked like they weren’t in a room. Just because they weren’t an adult didn’t mean they couldn’t hear.

            “We can’t be sure Jack will bite anyone,” said Sam, standing. Dean stood after. All three men were standing, and the tension was palpable.

            “So what do we do?” scoffed Travis. “Sit and hope and wait for a body count?”

            “No, we talk to him, explain what’s happening,” said Sam. “That way, he can fight it.”

            “Fight it?” Travis scoffed incredulously. “Are you kidding me? You ever been really hungry? I mean, haven’t-eaten-in-days hungry?”

            “Yeah,” said Dean instantly, and (Y/N)’s mind went to hell.

            “Yeah. Right, then,” said Travis. “Somebody slaps a big, juicy sirloin in front of you. You walking away? Hm?”

            Dean had to admit he wasn’t sure he could hold himself back in such a situation. (Y/N)’s fists clenched, and Sam’s jaw tensed.

            “That’s what we are to him now—meat on legs,” said Travis. “I’m sorry. I’m sure he’s a stand-up guy.” Sam swallowed. “But it’s pure, base instinct. Everything in nature’s got to eat. You think he can stop himself ‘cause he’s nice?” He looked long and hard at (Y/N).

            They faltered, swallowed, and spoke. “I don’t know, but I can’t kill him if he hasn’t done anything wrong.”

            “Right,” said Sam, voice firmer but supportive. “We’re not killing someone who’s still human.”

            (Y/N) knew he wasn’t talking about Jack at that moment.

            Sam turned and left the room, fists clenching and unclenching. Dean, Travis, and (Y/N) watched. (Y/N) hesitated for a moment before following outside.

            “Sam?” said (Y/N), walking from the motel room towards the impala.

            “You okay?” said Sam, looking at them.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), shrugging and leaning on the impala next to him. They still felt uncomfortable with Sam because he was working with a demon, but he was right on this account. “Is this what hunting is?”

            Sam blinked. “What?”

            “Assuming the worst in people all the time,” said (Y/N).

            Sam paused and nodded slowly. “The world is full of monsters.”

            “Mm,” said (Y/N), leaning back. “Do you think Jack can do it? Resist eating people?”

            “I don’t know,” said Sam. “I hope so.”

            Dean walked out of the motel, and Sam’s mind drifted back to the discussion about him and his demon blood use. He really hoped Jack could resist. Because if Jack couldn’t resist hurting people, what if Dean was right? What if Sam was next to become a monster?

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            “Alright, so we’re gonna go have a little chat with this guy, which, you know, I’m down,” said Dean as they sped back towards Jack’s suburban house. “But I just want to make sure that if push comes to shove, you’re gonna shove.”

            “Meaning?” said Sam.

            “Well, odds are we’re gonna have to burn this guy alive,” said Dean.

            “This guy has a name and a wife,” said Sam.

            “Yeah, who we’re probably gonna make a widow, okay?” said Dean. “I mean, you heard Travis.”

            Sam looked out the window, frustrated.

            “He’s gonna turn. They always turn,” said Dean.

            “But maybe he’ll fight it off,” said (Y/N), leaning forward.

            “Kid, you’re new to this, you’ve got optimism, I respect that—hell, I envy it—but odds are not in his favor,” said Dean.

            “Then we light him up,” said (Y/N) bluntly.

            “Alright then,” said Dean.

            “You’re just okay with that?” said Sam, turning back towards them.

            “If he tries to eat someone, yeah,” said (Y/N). “If he can’t fight it, then we have to fight him.” They understood and could agree with that aspect of this.

            “Exactly, (Y/N) gets it,” said Dean. “You know, nice dude, but he’s got something evil inside. Something in his blood. Maybe you can relate.”

            Sam’s jaw clenched. “Stop the car.”

            “What?” said Dean.

            “Stop the car or I will!” shouted Sam.

            (Y/N) froze in the backseat at Sam’s tone. With his psychic abilities, he could, and there was no telling what that would do with their current momentum.

            With a frustrated look, Dean pulled them off the road to the side of the road.

            Sam got out of the car as quickly as possible, and he slammed the door behind him. Dean got out behind him, and (Y/N) shrunk down in the backseat, not wanting to get in the way of the brother’s fighting and then get thrown out for interfering with family business. They weren’t family. They didn’t have family.

            “You want to know why I’ve been lying to you, Dean?” snapped Sam. “Because of crap like this!”

            “Like what?” challenged Dean.

            “The way you talk to me, the way you look at me like I’m some freak!” shouted Sam, throwing his arms up.

            “I do not,” said Dean defensively.

            “You know, or even worse, like I’m an idiot,” seethed Sam. “Like I don’t know the difference between right and wrong!”

            Dean let out a breath.

            “What?” snapped Sam.

            “Do you know the difference?” challenged Dean. “I mean, you’ve been kind of strolling a dark road lately!”

            “You have no idea what I’m going through, none!” said Sam.

            “Then enlighten me!”

            “I’ve got demon blood in me, Dean!” said Sam. “This disease pumping through my veins, and I can’t ever rip it out or scrub it clean! I’m a whole new level of freak! And I’m just trying to take this-this curse and make something good out of it.”

            (Y/N) looked at Sam and shifted. It was admirable to want to do something good for people with such abilities. It was like the idea of Jack managing to resist hurting people. Sam was afraid the same monster waited inside him and was desperate to fight to be good. (Y/N) couldn’t relate, but they understood.

            Dean’s anger dampened as soon as it had flared. He was silent as Sam took deep breaths, shoulders heaving. “Let’s just go talk to the guy,” he said.

            Sam scoffed lightly.

            “I mean Jack, okay?” said Dean.

            Sam swallowed, shoulders relaxing slightly. He nodded. He trusted his brother.

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Nobody's Soldier (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Found Family! Supernatural x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eight: Demon Blood

Summary: Dean and (Y/N) learn some unsavory secrets of Sam's.

            “Dean?” (Y/N) shook his shoulder. His brow was furrowed, and he was talking in his sleep. “Dean!”

            Dean shot up, pulled a gun from under his pillow, and pointed at his “attacker.” Fortunately, (Y/N) already ducked.

            “Whoa! Watch it!” they said.

            “What the hell are you doing, scaring me like that?” said Dean, chest heaving as he took deep breaths.

            “I woke up to you talking to your parents and then grumbling about angels. It sounded like a nightmare,” said (Y/N). “And, uh…” They pointed at the empty bed where Sam had been sleeping. “I saw Sam’s gone. Thought you’d want to know.”

            Dean lowered his gun. He had been projected into the past by Castiel, learned about his parents (bizarre), and then been told Sam was doing something dangerous with a demon. Unfortunately (for Sam, that is, he was going to have to deal with Dean being pissed), it seemed to be true.

            “Sam,” growled Dean, standing. “Come on. We’re going after him.”

            “Is he in danger?” asked (Y/N).

            It was likely, as a hunter, but Dean seemed to already know what was happening. They grabbed a t-shirt and tossed it on over their tank-top. Their new anti-possession tattoo pocked out of the straps, a deep black and burning slightly as it protected them. (Y/N) had been nervous getting it, but unlike the needle of a vaccine, they had become accustomed to the feeling. Honestly, (Y/N) didn’t mind it. Anything to avoid demon possession (didn’t sound pleasant at all).

            “He’s about to be,” said Dean.

            “Did Castiel visit you to tell you something?” said (Y/N), quick on the uptake.

            “Sam is doing something that made an angel tell me I stop it or they will,” said Dean. “And he’s sneaking around. That’s trouble.”

            Uh-oh.

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            The impala pulled into the alley beside 425 Waterman. It was an abandoned building, and voices sounded inside. Dean nodded at (Y/N), and they stayed behind him. As they entered the dark cabin, they saw Sam supporting an injured man and Christie, the girl he’d been with when they found him.

            “So.” Sam stiffened as Dean spoke. “Anything you want to tell me, Sam?”

            (Y/N) hung back as Sam spoke hurriedly, knowing this was a family issue. They weren’t family. They were tagging along.

            “Dean, hold on, okay? Just let me—”

            “You’re gonna say ‘let me explain?’ ” challenged Dean. “You’re gonna explain this?” Sam faltered. (Y/N) saw “Christie”—they doubted that was her name—look at them suspiciously, and (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “How about this? How about you start with who she is and what the hell is she doing here?!”

            Sam glanced at “Christie” and then glanced down. Dean and (Y/N) looked at her.

            “It’s good to see you again, Dean,” said “Christie.”

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow. Who was she? And how didn’t Dean know her face if he knew her—Oh. Demon. (Y/N)’s eyes flicked to Sam, and they felt their good feelings about Sam instantly wither. He was working with a demon.

            “Ruby?” said Dean slowly.

            Ruby. Like what Sam called the knife he had that could kill demons. (Y/N) looked at Ruby. That was her.

            Dean looked at Sam, angry disappointment simmering beneath the surface. “Is that Ruby?” Sam swallowed. Dean chuckled mirthlessly.

            He grabbed Ruby and shoved her into the wall. Pulling out the demon knife, he raised it above his head. (Y/N) personally applauded his choice.

            “Don’t!” Sam interceded and grabbed Dean’s arm.

            He wrenched the knife from Dean’s hand, and Dean shoved him. Sam hit the wall, and Ruby reacted instantly. She grabbed Dean and shoved him to the ground. (Y/N) grabbed a small vial of holy water from their pocket—courtesy of their parent’s supplies—and threw it. The galss shattered on Ruby, and she reared back as the water burnt her. Glaring, Ruby lunged for (Y/N), who dove to the side.

            “Ruby, stop it!” said Sam as Dean scrambled to his feet and (Y/N) glared back at Ruby defiantly as they circled each other.

            Ruby scowled but relaxed.

            “Well, aren’t you an obedient little bitch,” snapped Dean, still furious.

            Ruby’s head snapped to him, and she took a step towards him. Dean raised his brows, goading her to approach.

            “Ruby,” said Sam, voice softer. “Ruby, he’s hurt.” He looked at the human man, who stared at the group with wide eyes. “Go.”

            Frustrated, Ruby turned away and went to the man instead of continuing the fight.

            “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” demanded Dean while Ruby supported the man.

            “The ER,” snapped back Ruby. “Unless you or the brat want to go for another round first.”

            “Try it,” said (Y/N) fiercely despite knowing that without the demon knife, they didn’t have a lot of tricks up their sleeve. But the demon could go and fuck itself if it was trying to scare (Y/N).

            Ruby sneered back at them while she led the man out of the abandoned building. Sam, Dean, and (Y/N) were left alone. Dean looked at Sam, gaze hard with disappointment.

            “Dean.” Sam’s voice fell off as he tried to find words.

            “Come on, (Y/N),” said Dean, walking towards the exit. He hadn’t believed Castiel. Sam didn’t do things like this; there was no reasons angels would want to hurt here. But here he was working with a demon, doing who knows what. He was furious, disappointed, grieving that his brother was different now.

            (Y/N) glanced at Sam. Sam had seemed so kind and concerned. Yes, he didn’t want them to hunt, he wanted them to forget about all this, and (Y/N) could never do that after the loss of their parents, but he had come from a place of concern, which (Y/N) had respected. This…This was working with a demon. (Y/N) couldn’t trust that, couldn’t trust him. They followed Dean in silence.

            “Dean! (Y/N)!” called Sam. He got no response.

            Outside of the building, (Y/N) looked at Dean. “What are you gonna do?”

            “Leave. I’m not working with a demon,” said Dean, opening the door of the impala.

            (Y/N) hesitated. “Can I come, too?”

            Dean looked at them. “I’m not leaving you with that bitch, no. Get in.”

            (Y/N) straightened at the assurance, glad they weren’t being left behind with no clue what to do again. Quickly, they got into the car, and Dean drove off back towards the motel.

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            (Y/N) and Dean entered the motel. Sam was already there, waiting, having sped through backroads to get back there before they did anything he thought was “stupid.”

            Dean marched right past Sam and nodded to (Y/N), who opened an old duffle bag and tossed their few (new) possessions in. Dean shoved his clothes away.

            “Dean, (Y/N), what are you doing?” said Sam, watching them. “What, are you—are you leaving?”

            “You don’t need me,” said Dean. “You don’t need us. You and Ruby go fight demons.”

            “Hold on. Hold on,” said Sam, getting between Dean and the door.

            “Got your stuff?” said Dean, ignoring Sam and looking at (Y/N).

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N).

            Dean nodded, and they walked towards the door. Sam reached for Dean, and Dean snapped. Pivoting, he swung and hit Sam across the face. Sam groaned and straightened, lip split.

            He swallowed. “You satisfied?”

            Dean reared back and hit Sam again. (Y/N) winced.

            Sam’s jaw tensed. “I guess not.”

            “Do you even know how far off the reservation you’ve gone?” said Dean, voice low and furious. “How far from normal? From human?!”      

            “I’m just exorcizing demons,” said Sam.

            “With your mind!” said Dean. “I know you’re using the powers you shouldn’t have anymore!” He shook his head. “What else can you do?”

            “I can send them back to Hell,” said Sam, eyes pleading with Dean to see the merit of his abilities instead of seeing evil. “It only works with demons, and that’s it.”           

            “What else can you do?” shouted Dean, grabbing Sam’s collar.

            “I told you!” said Sam.

            “Dean, I think he’s telling the truth,” said (Y/N), stepping forward.

            “How can we believe him?” said Dean.

            “Look, I should have said something,” said Sam. “I’m sorry. I am. But try to see the other side here.”

            “The other side?!”

            “I’m pulling demons out of innocent people!”

            “Use the knife!”

            “What I do, most of them survive!” said Sam.

            “Exorcisms work, too,” said (Y/N) sharply. Working with a demon wasn’t the only option there. They weren’t sure whether or not his abilities were evil, per say, but they had witnessed an exorcism from their mom.

            “This is faster, controllable!” said Sam. “I’ve saved more people in the last five months than Dean and I save in a year!”

            “That what Ruby wants you to think?” said Dean.

            (Y/N) looked at Sam, who sighed in exasperation.

            “Kind of like the way she tricked you into using your powers?” said Dean. “Slippery slope, brother.” He shook his head in worry and disappointment. “Just wait and see. Because it’s gonna get darker and darker, and God knows where it ends.”

            “I’m not gonna let it go too far,” said Sam, urging Dean to listen.

            “Sam, everyone says that,” said (Y/N). Their voice was small, quiet. “You want to do good, but what if you don’t see when you do bad?”

            Dean pointed at (Y/N). “See? Even a kid with barely any understanding of this shit knows what’s going on is bad news!” He stepped towards Sam furiously. “If I didn’t know you…I would want to hunt you. And so would other hunters.”

            (Y/N) flinched, and their eyes went to their shoes. That felt…extreme. Was this world that black and white? Sam wasn’t a monster. He…was making a mistake working with a demon, but did he deserve to die for trying to use his abilities to help people? That didn’t feel like an issue in itself…What Ruby could do with that was the problem.

            Sam swallowed silently. His eyes were glassy with tears. “You were gone. I was here. I had to keep on fighting without you. And what I’m doing…it works.”

            Dean’s jaw clenched, and he stepped back. “Well, tell me. If it’s so terrific…then why’d you lie about it to me?” Sam looked down again. “Why did an angel tell me to stop you?”

            Sam looked up. “What?” he breathed.

            “Cas said that if I don’t stop you, he will,” said Dean. “See, what that means, Sam…that means that God doesn’t want you doing this.” Sam flinched. “So, are you just gonna stand there and tell me everything is all good?”

            Sam swallowed, and Dean searched his gaze. Neither brother could speak, unsure what to say. (Y/N) shifted uncomfortably. There was a lot they didn’t understand, but they felt this was a deeper, more complex issue that it truly seemed. Maybe they were missing something. They were new to this.

            Ring!

            Everyone flinched, and the tension was broken. Sam swallowed, grabbed his phone, and answered.

            “Hey, Travis.” Sam pinched his nose and cleared his throat. “Yeah, hey. It’s good to hear your voice, too, yeah. Uh, look, it’s not a really good time right now. Yeah, okay. Uh, well, just give the details, and, uh…” He cleared his throat and grabbed a notebook. “Carthage, Missouri,” he repeated. “Looking for Jack Montgomery.” He put his phone back in his pocket. His breaths still came heavily.

            Dean swallowed, his own eyes creased in exhaustion and sadness.

            “It’s, uh, a case,” said Sam, voice quiet.

            “Okay,” said Dean.

            “Are you going to…leave?” said Sam softly.

            Dean swallowed. He didn’t answer. “Grab your stuff and get in the car.”

            Sam’s shoulders sagged in relief. At least his brother wasn’t leaving him right now.

            (Y/N) straightened. A case. Their first case as an official hunter. They wondered what it would be.

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            “I can’t believe it. Mom, a hunter?” said Sam, incredulous.

            Dean’s story of what he’d seen while in the past—sent back in a dream by angles—was extraordinary. Azazel, the yellow-eyed demon, had killed Mary’s parents and nearly killed John. Their mother’s family, despite their own family not hunting until Mary’s death, had been hunters, too. Unfortunately, the reasons behind Azazel’s actions still weren’t clear.

            Demons are so weird, decided (Y/N). And, what endgame was he after? What more than releasing the Devil could demons be planning?

            “I wouldn’t have believed it, either, if I hadn’t seen it myself,” said Dean, shaking his head.

            “I can’t believe you didn’t freak out more after travelling to the past,” said (Y/N), leaning forward from the backseat. They were glad the topic of conversation wasn’t on whether or not Sam was a monster, though. This felt…lighter, even if there were consequences to this knowledge.

            “Castiel kept popping up,” said Dean. He shook his head and chuckled. “And I saw my mom kick serious ass. That made up for it. I mean, she almost took me down.”

            “How’d she look? I mean…was she happy?” asked Sam.

            “Yeah, she was awesome,” said Dean. “Funny and smart.” He paused. “So hopeful. Dad, too. Until, of course…”

            Sam looked away.

            “What?” asked Dean.

            “Nothing,” said Sam. “It’s just—our parents, and now we find out our grandparents, too? Our whole family murdered, and for what? So Yellow Eyes could get in my nursery and bleed in my mouth?”

            (Y/N) frowned. “Blood? When did that come up?”

            Sam swallowed suddenly, and Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

            “(Y/N)’s right. I didn’t say anything about demon blood,” said Dean. The “older brother” tone was coming out. “You knew about that?”

            “Yeah…for about a year,” said Sam.

            “A whole year,” said Dean incredulously, frustration running through his tone.

            “I should have told you. I’m sorry,” said Sam.

            “You’ve been saying that a lot lately, Sam,” said Dean. “But whatever.” He smiled, and it was so fake it hurt to look at. “You don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. It’s fine.”

            “Dean,” said Sam. He sighed. “Whatever.”

            “You guys need to stop hiding things from each other,” said (Y/N).

            “It’s Sammy’s business, apparently,” said Dean crossly.

            “You were dead for four months,” snapped Sam.

            “And you knew eight months before that!” said Dean.

            “And you guys wouldn’t be arguing if you told each other the truth,” pointed out (Y/N). “My parents always did that.” They paused and swallowed. “They, uh…they told me its better to tell the truth because lies build up.” Their voice felt hoarse suddenly. “But they lied about our life…”

            Dean remained silent, and Sam hesitated.

            “Maybe…they thought being a hunter was over,” said Sam. “If no monster bothered them for fourteen years, they probably thought they were out.”

            “And then a demon killed them,” said (Y/N) softly.

            “They got fourteen years of peace,” said Dean. “No hunters get that.”

            “…” (Y/N) didn’t have words for a response.

l

            Through the phonebook, Dean pulled the impala up in front of Jack Montgomery’s house in Carthage, Missouri. In the window a picturesque suburban house, a man and a woman were walking around. Dean and Sam pulled out binoculars and peered at Jack as he headed into the kitchen.     

            “Are you sure that’s him?” asked Dean.

            “Only Jack Montgomery in town,” said Sam.

            “And we’re looking for…?” Dean felt skeptical and bored already.

            “Travis said to keep an eye out for anything weird,” said Sam, shrugging.

            “What does ‘weird’ mean?” asked (Y/N). “I’m weird. Sam’s weird. Dean’s weird.”

            “I’m not,” said Dean, affronted.

            “You’ve been to Hell,” said (Y/N).

            “Yeah, yeah,” said Dean. He lifted his binoculars and looked at Jack. “Well, this guy? Come on, he’s boring.”

            “I don’t know, Travis seemed pretty sure,” said Sam.

            (Y/N) looked at the window. “Eating with your hands is kind of weird. Not ‘monster’ weird but weird.”

            “If it’s a burger, that’s fine,” said Dean, looking closer. “Oh. Ew.”

            “What?” Sam looked closer. “Oh.”

            “Is that meat red?” asked (Y/N), not able to see everything.

            “It’s raw,” said Dean, nose crinkling in disgust.

            “I’d say that qualifies as weird,” said Sam. Travis seemed to be on the trail of a monster.

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