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can’t even convey how badly i need to be this tashi’s personal assistant/friend/confidant/? that’s always with her but people just can’t figure out your relation to her besides the fact that she’s always smiling/keeled over laughing when the two of you are together. maybe your patrick’s new wife and it’s chalked up to just a proximity thing, it’s easier for her to like you than be annoyed at your presence because it’s not like you’re going anywhere, her being married to his best friend and all. there isn’t really an explanation for why people zoom in on your lockscreen and find that it’s a photo of her that hasn’t been posted publicly.
she’s never been a rude woman, but she was noticeably closed off, drawing firm lines in what she was willing to talk about that never included her personal life. now she’s asking about people’s weekends, recounting her own with you and the plans the two of you have coming up, double + one-on-one dates that seem a little too romantic. maybe you’re the youngest of the 4, a nepo baby it girl with no set plans, no goals besides being hot and being a little chaotic. you manage to wrangle tashi into jewelry campaigns and get her to be the face of some clothing brand, keep her name alive and revive her career in a way entirely separate from tennis. let everyone know that you think she’s the most beautiful and deserving woman alive. you even convince her to take an extended vacation, a month just the 2 of you. you get caught one night after drinks, a blurry make out sold to tabloids. she plans to go scorched earth until she catches you smiling at the photo…decides it can’t be that bad.
i like imaging being her low stress private gf BUT if you wanted to make it angsty u could play up the fact that because you were born into money you’ve never really had to work for anything and don’t get that you will always be second to work in tashi’s life. it’s nothing personal, she’s just not the kind of girl to throw it all away for love. especially one that would bring questions and speculation and explanations to her family. maybe that pushes your own little insecurity button because no one’s ever wanted to- or HAD to hide you. leaves you feeling unimportant. like it all meant nothing, just a stop on the way to her. leads to the two of you butting heads one too many times, having a massive relationship ending fight. she makes it sound like she thinks so little of you, little rich girl that doesn’t know what real work is. doesn’t realize what it takes to run a family. HER family. she can’t believe how immature you are, liking tweets about “how historians will say you were good friends” (rip public likes), and with that you turn your heel, hellbent on making her feel just as shitty as she made you feel. and thus starts the PR war, taking digs and snippy comments at each other any chance you get. you call her a career obsessed psycho, she calls you a fame whore. you date the people you used to talk shit about with her. she sabotages brand deals. there’s a blurry paparazzi shot of her crying in the street comforted by art and clearly both unaware that they’re being photographed. you start partying harder to avoid the regret that’s creeping in. one night you happen to look up and see art standing there, making a quick appearance at some event neither of you could care less about. you and him had a great repartee before it all went down, he was a great sport about you getting his wife in bed and joined in a few times. for whatever reason you thought maybe that would keep going on, grinning and making your way over to him until you register how cold his eyes are, jaw set. one shake of his head is all it takes for you to leave the party in tears.
why did u stop there omg im invested,,,,,
these pictures of her.... tashi.....
i imagine you're someone she met naturally - maybe while she was getting coffee one day and a man was bothering you and she stepped in, it would be love at first sight essentially - for you, anyway - fluttering after her to ask if you can take her out, all hopeful. something about you intrigues tashi immediately - even when she purposely brings her hand up with her wedding band to push some of her hair back - she still agrees to a coffee date. maybe it'd be be nice to just talk to someone who isn't an assistant, or her husband, or a work associate -
neither of you expect how close you become. you're bubbly - someone tashi thinks she would have hated in high-school, seen as fake or whatever, but you're just.... like that. and you make her have fun when she's with you. when she comes over you make her these wild cocktails "saw this one on tiktok! look, its pink!!" and you make her dance with you to poppy music and it feels like those sleepovers she was always hearing about growing up, but never had time for. her life has always been about climbing to the top, working herself to the bone, and sure, thats not something you can relate to - but she appreciates the levity you bring to her life, regardless.
art notices how much lighter tashi is too, and a part of him is jealous, at first. tashi talks about you like you're a crush she has, like you're something special and that makes him feel.... something. but he doesn't have to feel in knots about it for long because its not long before tashi is inviting you to stay and their place - introducing you to her husband and her daughter - and art cant possibly be angry at someone who makes tashi smile like that.
although he does ask, later that night, when he and tashi are getting ready for bed - tashi had finally returned from setting you up in your own room - if tashi was into you. as a joke, mostly, but also not. and tashi had paused from fluffing her pillow and appeared to really think about it. "would it be a problem if i was?" is that she settles on. and art thinks about it. theres definitely something that gives him comfort that its not another man in his home that tashi has feelings for, even if that's misogynistic to think.
"i dont know." he says honesty. "would you leave me for her?"
and tashi laughs. no, she wouldn't. and if it did turn anything with you, she wouldn't exclude art. "i saw you check out her ass," tashi says, "and i saw her check out your dickprint. sweats, dear. we can all see."
and that's that conversation settled.
its not long after that that sex is introduced into your friendship. and for some time, its perfect. its easy - you go on these little dates and mini vacations and you stay over at her house more and more - in her and arts marriage bed, more and more - because art is an extension of tashi - you come to love him too, want him too, need him too.
but you were raised to have what you want when you want it. you get greedy. you want more of her time, their time - you start rolling her eyes when she tells you she cant come to see you because she has a dinner with art with these tennis executives and you start to zone out because you've never really understood sports and its become a sore spot. a way tashi and her husband connect, such a fundamental part of who they are and what they're built upon and you just..... dont get it. in the early days you liked to listen to her talk about it, but now you kind of hate it. it feels like a rival. a glaring reminder you're lesser than something and that's a feeling you dont like.
born rich and having people always falling over themselves to give you attention - tashi was like a breath of fresh air. she had as much money as you currently, but she wasn't born with it. she worked for it, and that made her have a realness to her you couldn't find in your real life. fake love, fake friendships, even your family is fucking fake - but tashi and art - they brought something tangible into your life, something that wasn't easy.
tashi treated you like a brat during sex - and she the tamer - and it opened your eyes to a whole new world. you loved working for her approval, because it could never be earned by throwing your money at her, it came from giving a part of yourself up and eventually that became too scary to deal with when you weren't sure if you were even permanent in her life.
tashi was never good with words and you lived for them and this eventually lead to your downfall - the breakup of the century - and its the worst heartbreak you've ever known because the only real and genuine thing in your life is gone, because she'd rather fuck a tennis racket for the rest of her life than truly build a life with you in it (at least that's how you see it)
and it hurts even worse because you lose art and lily too. lily who felt like a little niece to you. who always cheered when she saw you like you were someone cool just for existing. who you could watch all the barbie movies with and you didn't have to pretend like they weren't your favorite movies to watch.
and art.... who'd become a strange kind of friend... and boyfriend? over the years along with tashi. where tashi was ironclad art was mellow and soft and you could talk to him for hours about things you both were oddly passionate about. and he was a wonderful kisser. sex with him felt amazing. it was even better when it was all three of you, you didn't feel like some rich spoiled airhead between them, you felt like you were just a person that was well taken care of.
you dont handle the breakup well at all. tashi and art had always been more closed off than you - more quiet with their deep seeded feelings... while you were loud and screamed how upset you were from the top of your lungs. you were downright nasty about it to publicity.
no shade, full names said. trash talking boldly. calling tashi a tyrannical workaholic robot and how it was a nightmare to be her friend, and how you didn't know she was capable of warm feelings. you poked fun at art for being a lapdog and being walked like a pooch by his wife. (nevermind the fact you'd been the one to wear a collar in the bedroom)
its mean and childish and resentful and you're a bleeding wound and you wait for tashi's rebuttal. but whenever you're brought up, or something you said is brought to her attention, its met with cool dispassion. on both her and arts side. they skate over it, give a short and precise response thats somehow crueler than anything you could ever say in its simplicity, "if talking about me and my family is how she needs to heal, then she's more than welcome to it... what im focused on is..." and then she'd go into her next business venture with her husband.
it made your blood boil. it made you hurt even worse. it made you feel like you were nothing.
what you dont see is the dark circles under tashi's eyes every morning she has to brush concealer over. how sometimes the things you say sting so deep she throws her phone across the room and has to buy a new one. how very rarely she'll break down and let art hold her and she'll ask if she really is a cold unloving robot and art will tell her that shes not, that her love is different but its still real and genuine and he'll try to be a strong pillar for her but inside he wants to seek you out and find you, shake you and throttle you and tell you you're so fucking selfish and stupid because how could you not see tashi loved you? that he did too? how could you not feel it? how could you say the things you say about her, about him, when they'd let you into their bed and into their home and opened themselves up to you.
they weren't the most open people - and maybe that was something they needed to work on - but they'd been the most vulnerable they'd ever been with you. and you took their love and spit on it and said it wasn't shiny enough a rock for you.
it fucking sucked. he hated you for it. if he ever saw you in person he thought he might lose his temper.
you were starting to hate yourself too. why couldn't you be enough? why did you always want more? it definitely had nothing to do with growing up with no genuine love in your life, barely there parents, friends who only talked to you for your money, partners who always cheated on you once your sparkly quality wore off or someone even more sparkly came along. definitely had nothing to do with constantly being told you're vapid and artificial and have no substance to you and having the first people in your life treat you like you have value beyond your net worth - feel distant from you in a way you cant reach - is it any wonder you panicked?
perhaps you should have communicated better. perhaps you should have sat down and talked to them and asked how to be more a part of their life, perhaps you should have asked them to teach you more about tennis instead of growing resentful of it.
but those were things a well rounded mentally stable adult would do. of which, you are not.
at least they have eachother to fall back on.
maybe its time you got married too.
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Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 1
When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?
Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You
Word Count: 5393
Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma.
A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.
-----------------------------------------
Chapter 1
You grew up hearing about soulmates, but since you were raised by your Aunt Ellen, it was something you weren’t sure was even true. She’d shown you the mark that had shown up on her hip, your uncle’s name, when she’d turned sixteen. Soulmates clearly were a thing, but you were skeptical, even as a child.
“Hey, you gonna take care of the customers or just stand there daydreamin?” Ellen asked you.
“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, tending to the men at the bar.
How did I end up working here, of all places?
Your mind constantly drifted these days, and it started a month ago. Your twenty-fifth birthday was only three months away. Jo continually teased you when she found you off in your head during work hours. Then there was your Aunt Ellen, who was getting more worried about you as the days passed.
The music from the jukebox sounded far away, almost muffled as you absentmindedly took care of the tasks of cleaning tables, the bar, restocking bottles, and filling drinks. Guys would flirt with you, but you’d only give them that fake smile and move on.
It was the birthday you’d been waiting for, even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it to anyone. You were turning sixteen, and you’d finally see the name of your soulmate. Thanks to your aunt, you had gotten your hopes up.
But the day came and went, and nothing appeared. You had checked everywhere, even behind your ears. There was nothing. It took months to pull out of that depression, especially when those close to you asked about it. You also felt like some sort of freak. In all the research you’d done, you couldn’t find anything about not getting the mark when you turned sixteen.
“Geeze, Y/N. You’re really out of it today. What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ellen asked you, pulling you from your memories.
“Sorry. My mind seems to have a mind of its own today,” you sighed, glancing around the bar for a moment.
“You still bummed about the soulmate thing?” she asked you sincerely, in the way she did when she was gently trying to get you to talk.
You just shrugged your shoulders before taking off your apron, “I have to go help Bobby at the garage again.”
“Is it that time already?” Ellen asked, glancing at the clock, then sighed. “Alright. Tell the old grump I said hi, and don’t let him work you too hard.”
That made you chuckle, “He never does, and I’ll let him know.”
Again, your mind drifted as you drove down the semi-busy streets to Bobby’s garage. He and your Aunt had been friends for a long time, so he was practically family, as was his wife, Jodi. Growing up, you’d spent half your time in the garage, helping Bobby fix cars.
Sioux Falls wasn’t a big town, but wasn’t tiny either. You knew most of the people who lived there, and they knew you. It was more like more of them knew of you, the girl with no soulmate.
You sighed as you drove your 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400, a gift from Bobby you had to fix up, down the lonely road leading to his garage.
“Got something for ya, kid, but you gotta fix her up,” Bobby told you when you showed up for your shift that hot summer afternoon.
“I told you. You don’t have to get me a present this year,” you groaned.
A year ago, you began hating your birthdays, and you didn’t want to celebrate this one. You begrudgingly followed him to his garage, then to the side of it, where you noticed the tarp over something.
Bobby walked over and pulled the tarp off, revealing the shell of a 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400. You had fallen in love with muscle cars as a kid, watching The Dukes of Hazzard. Your jaw hit the floor as you ran over to her like a kid on Christmas.
He was smiling from ear to ear as he watched you look over everything, “She’s all yours, but you gotta do the work. You can’t let any other mechanic touch her. I’ll answer any questions, but I ain’t helpin' either.”
“Are you serious, Uncle Bobby?” you asked excitedly, popping the hood of the beat-up frame.
A small smile crossed your expression with that memory as you pulled into the driveway of Bobby’s garage and parked in the back. It seemed like so long ago, but it was one of your fondest memories that had made your birthday not so bad.
“I’m here,” you hollered, heading over to the car you’d been working on for almost a week at this point.
“How was the bar?” he asked, joining you in the garage.
“I was a space cadet, and Aunt Ellen is worried about me,” you replied, sliding back under the car to finish it up.
“You’re not a space cadet. I just think you can’t focus around all those people anymore. Come work at the garage, full-time,” he told you, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.
“I’ll think about it,” you answered, tightening down a few more bolts.
“Besides, Jodi misses you being around more often,” Bobby added in an attempt to persuade your decision.
“I miss her too. Oh! Ellen said hi. I don’t know why she doesn’t text you more often,” you replied, sliding out from under the car, looking for yet another tool for yet another size bolt.
When you were in the garage, you always seemed to be able to focus. You knew Bobby had a point, and you’d been considering it for almost a month, but you weren’t about to tell him that. You wanted to let him think it was his idea.
Yeah, your mind drifted, but it was nothing like at the bar. Here, they were little snippets of memories: kids teasing you in high school, adults looking at you like you had two heads, and then there had been attempts to find a job but getting turned down everywhere due to not having the name of your soulmate on your body somewhere.
By the time your shift ended, you had the car completely finished. Looking down at the car, you stood there, covered with blotches of grease but beaming with pride.
“I’ll let the owner know she’s ready,” Bobby smiled, now standing next to you. “Think about it, though, okay?”
“I will,” you replied, giving him a hug before you headed home for the night since you’d already cleaned up the tools you’d used.
You lived in a cute little house not far from Bobby’s garage. It was the only thing that you had from your parents, along with a handful of pictures. You’d lost both of them to a car crash when you were only two, having no real memories of them.
Since you were two when you had lost them, you never asked Jodi what had happened or if anyone else was involved. You honestly didn’t want to know.
Dropping the things from your pockets on the table, you locked your door and headed to the bathroom. Your thoughts drifted again as you did your typical night routine.
“I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time finding work, sweetie. You can’t work here till you’re at least eighteen. I can’t break that law for you,” Ellen sighed.
You crossed your arms and went back outside to your car. You knew why no one in town would hire you, and it was a stupid reason. However, being a teenager still, you were all hormones and now needed to go blow off some steam.
You peeled out of the parking lot and down the road to your parent's place, which would be yours in less than a year. The drive was short due to the speed you’d chosen to go, and a cloud of dust rolled over your car when you parked out back of the house.
Between the punching bag, the target practice, and throwing your knives till your arm was sore, you had finally calmed down some. You made a call to Ellen and told her you were going to sleep at your ‘almost’ house. She didn’t like it but didn’t argue either.
You cried yourself to sleep that night, curled up in the soft bed that would eventually be your permanent room as the sun set slowly. The thought of being alone for the rest of your life hurt more than you’d ever tell anyone.
Dinner that night consisted of leftovers, and you were thankful you’d prepared them ahead of time when the week began—baked chicken, potatoes, and gravy. You were far too out of it to even worry about a vegetable.
I’ll tell Ellen tomorrow.
Finally deciding to quit working at the bar as you cleaned up dinner and headed to bed, almost feeling as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Slipping under the covers and getting comfortable, you also felt more relaxed than usual.
—----
Two hours into your shift, and Ellen had already had to pull you out of your head a dozen times. It was Saturday, so even the morning hours were busy today. You were just thankful that you never had to cook, knowing you would have ended up burning most of the food.
“Can you at least pay attention to the ones at the bar? Jo can handle the floor today,” Ellen told you, again sounding worried.
“I’ll try,” you sighed, glancing at the men sitting there.
There was no point in apologizing again. As you began taking care of the drinks, the bell over the door dinged, signifying yet another customer. Typically, you wouldn’t have even looked up, but something pulled at you.
It was three men, none of whom you recognized, and two of them looked to be around your age, with the third being older. All three of them sat at the bar, so you went over to get them drinks.
“What’s your poison?” you asked, putting on that fake work smile and not really looking at them.
“Three beers,” the older of the three said, “And please tell Ellen to come over.”
You were slightly confused but agreed. You set their beers down in front of them, then went to find Ellen in the back. “Hey, there’s a guy out here that asked for you.”
“Did you get his name?” she asked as she dried her hands.
“No. He didn’t say. He’s with two other guys who are younger, though, if that helps?” you replied as you followed her out of the back room.
You stopped halfway down the bar, but you were still behind it, as she was now on the other side, making her way to the three of them. The older man stood, both he and Ellen smiling as they embraced in a hug, which confused you. You managed to keep up with the drinks for those at the bar but couldn’t hear what the four of them were talking about.
“Y/N, come down here and get these boys a refill,” Ellen hollered, motioning for you to go over to them.
Rolling your eyes, you did as she asked, putting on that fake smile again, “Here ya go.”
“Thanks, Sweetheart,” one of the two younger ones said to you with what looked to be a flirtatious smirk.
“Don’t be flirting with my niece, Dean. She’s still what you’d consider innocent,” Ellen scolded the one who had just spoken to you, but to you, it sounded more like a teasing sort of joking around, which made you slightly curious.
“Thanks. Like I need some stranger to know that sort of thing,” you grumbled.
“Sweetie, these are the Winchesters. They’re practically family. You met them when you were little,” Ellen replied, smiling happily.
For a moment, you were somewhat dumbfounded as to what to even say. You couldn’t seem to remember meeting the three of them. Ellen introduced you to John Winchester, the father of Dean and Sam, who were four years apart in age.
“I hate to do it, Aunt Ellen, but, I need to talk to you about something before I leave in ten,” you finally told her.
“What’s up?” she asked, looking quite puzzled.
“I need to take some time off for a while,” you mumbled, feeling bad.
“Take all the time you need, sweetie. I know things have been rough for you lately,” she said softly, then she gave you a hug. “And tell that old fart to stop by sometime.”
“Thanks for understanding, and I will,” you replied, relieved as you hugged her back. Then you looked over at the Winchesters, “It was nice to have at least met the three of you since I don’t remember meeting you before now. Not sure when I’ll see you again, though.”
“How come?” John asked, seeming fairly curious.
“I’m going to be working my other job full-time for a while. It’s the love of my life, honestly,” you replied with a smile, giving John your full attention.
“What’s that, kid?” he asked, which made you wonder if perhaps he knew Bobby since Bobby called you that all the time.
“I fix cars. Hate to do it, but I have to run,” you replied quickly, heading for the door and out to your Baby. However, your heart about stopped when you saw the black 67’ Chevy Impala parked next to your Firebird.
“Damn…” you breathed out in quiet shock and awe.
Shit! I’m gonna be late.
With that thought, you shook your head, pulled your gaze from the car, and drove to Bobby’s garage for your shift. It indeed was a beautiful car, and you knew that no one in town drove one of those. Through deductive reasoning, you figured it had to belong to the Winchesters. You just weren’t sure which one. Whichever one it was, though, they loved that car, and you knew it with how well it had been taken care of.
The leaves on the trees were changing colors already, and the light breeze was finally cooler than the summer heat that you hated. However, you didn’t notice much today; you were too excited to give Bobby the news.
You knew the smile you couldn’t hide would give it away, but you stepped into his little office anyway. You didn’t even have time to say anything before he did.
Bobby was smiling from ear to ear when he looked up at you, “Nice to know Ellen didn’t give you a hard time about being here full time. You can whip those boys on the morning shift into shape for me.”
“Like they’d listen to me,” you chuckled but rolled your eyes.
“They better, since you’re gonna be their boss from here on out,” he told you seriously.
“Wait? What?” you asked, in complete surprise.
“Kid, you know your shit, and you’re good at your job. You’re better at your job than the four boys I got workin here already. I’d rather just have you than all of them 'cause I know you’d get the job done like it should be, and you never cut corners,” he explained, being completely serious.
“I- I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, still shocked.
“Just say thanks and be here at six tomorrow morning. Take the afternoon off and rest up,” he smiled.
You went over and wrapped him up in a hug. He knew the only reason you worked in the garage late was to avoid the boys he had working there in the morning. You had tried doing the dating thing after your sixteenth birthday, but realized quickly that no boy wanted anything to do with you.
That night, you were still smiling, even if you were apprehensive about being someone’s boss, let alone four grown men. People in the town were mostly courteous toward you but treated you like a plague of some sort since your soulmate's name never appeared on your body.
—-------
As you got ready that morning, you attempted to calm your nerves, but it didn’t work. You gave yourself mental pep talks all morning and even on the drive, but that wasn’t helping either. Your heart was still racing as you parked out back like you usually did.
Bobby was the only one at the garage for the moment, and he even told you to breathe more than once. He explained that you’d still be working on cars, but now you’d also be keeping an eye on the boys he had working there and telling them when to take their breaks. It seemed simple enough.
Benny, Cas, Garth, and Jack were decent guys and were all friends. They’d spend time at the bar in the evenings when you were at the garage. It was how you had avoided a lot of people in the town since they really wanted nothing to do with you.
The part you were worried about was interacting with them, as their boss. Bobby was standing next to you as the four of them arrived and mingled into the garage.
“Boys, meet your new boss,” Bobby said sternly, and all four of them looked up at you.
You were sure your heartbeat could be heard throughout the room as you froze under their gaze. The only one who didn’t look at you like you were a waste of space or something to avoid was Garth, and you made a mental note of that.
Something in you snapped with how they looked at you, and you laid into them before Bobby could comment on their expressions. “Look, I know that at least three of you would rather not work with me. I’m not a bitch, but I will be if I have to be. You don’t like this, there’s the door,” you told them sternly, putting your hands on your hips.
“Seriously?” Benny asked, annoyed. His Cajun accent was thick, and if it weren’t for his attitude, you probably could have listened to the man talk all day.
“Yes, Benny. She’s got the right to fire you if need be. I suggest you don’t give her a reason,” Bobby replied, crossing his arms, almost daring the man to challenge his decision.
Garth stepped forward, though, with that kind smile he always had, “I, for one, am looking forward to working with you, Y/N. You seem like a nice person, fair.”
Your expression instantly softened, and you smiled at him. “Thanks, Garth.”
“Alright, get to work,” Bobby told all of you before he headed into his office to keep an eye on things.
You turned from the four of them and headed toward the newest of the cars that had been brought in the day before. Your nerves were shot, but you were proud of yourself for standing up to the three of them. Pausing for a brief moment as you looked down at the car, you decided on something.
I’m gonna just be me. If they don’t like it, they can quit.
You turned on the radio to the classic rock station, then got to work on the car. Benny raised an eyebrow and just watched you silently before he got to work with the other three. It was odd for you with the other four working there, too. It was something you weren’t used to, but you found yourself keeping an eye on them, even while you worked.
An hour into the shift, Cas had stopped working and sat on one of the barstools, sipping some water. You watched him out of the corner of your eye for a few minutes while still focusing on your current task. Five minutes later, he was back to work. You took mental note of it and focused on your task again.
Each of them did that, taking turns to sit for a few minutes, have water, and then return to work. It puzzled you, but you weren’t ready to ask them why they did it, at least not yet.
Just before nine, you heard it before you saw it. The beautiful purr of that Impala you had seen the night before. A smirk crossed your lips while you were unbolting the upper portion of the water pump for the current car in front of you.
The Impala stopped, and then she was silent. You could clearly hear three sets of footsteps heading into the garage. The four boys erupted with greetings to the Winchesters, more Dean than the other two. Even Bobby joined in.
So, they do know each other. Too bad the boys know them too. So much for maybe making a friend now.
You sighed and slid under the car, going for the bottom bolts now that the top ones were loose, completely ignoring the ruckus of greetings going on only about twenty feet away from you.
“Kid, you gonna come say hi?” you heard Bobby ask, and you realized he was standing next to you.
“I really wanted to get this finished, since the part finally came in, and this poor car has been sitting here for a week waiting,” you replied without moving out from under the car.
“Kid, don’t make me pull you outta there,” he told you a bit more sternly, and you knew he’d do it.
“Fine,” you grumbled, sliding out from under the car.
“So much for not running into you again, Sweetheart,” Dean smirked, which made you roll your eyes.
“Dean’s gonna be starting tomorrow morning. Dean, she’ll be your boss, so don’t try anything funny. She’s also practically my niece,” Bobby told him, far sterner than you’d heard him talk to anyone before, which only piqued your curiosity as to what their past entailed.
“I’ll behave, Bobby, I promise,” Dean told him, somewhat seriously.
You noticed a small twinkle in not only Dean’s eye, but also in Bobby’s. It was like there was something they both knew but weren’t saying, at least not in front of you.
“You better, boy. I got no problems telling your dad and making him fire you,” Bobby replied, glancing at John.
That was when it hit you. You’d seen the initials JW on several different pieces of paperwork and even a couple of packages that had been delivered to the garage. John was Bobby’s partner in the business, and Dean was supposed to inherit it when John passed or retired. You were a bit surprised, though, that you had the power to fire the boss's son or at least write him up if you had to.
John’s laughter filled the garage at Bobby’s statement, “If I have to get involved, you’ll be in far more trouble than just losing your job.” There was a joke in there, but you could also hear the hint of seriousness in his tone.
What do the three of them know but aren’t saying around me? This is so frustrating.
“I said I’d behave,” Dean grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning against the car closest to him while the boys gave him a hard time. But it was there, even if only a hint of it, a smirk, and you noticed.
That was when John and Bobby both turned toward you, and for some reason, it made you nervous. “We’re having a little get-together tonight at Harvelle’s, and you’re invited. Sam graduated and is getting a full ride for law school, and that calls for a celebration,” John told you with a far softer smile than you thought the man was capable of.
“Uh, sure, I guess,” you replied, completely unsure of the idea of being around people who really wanted nothing to do with you.
“Good. Then we’ll see you there around say, seven?” John replied.
“Okay,” you answered, not sure what else to say.
Due to your attention being on John and Bobby, you missed the silent conversations going on between Dean, Sam, and the four grease monkeys on the far side of the garage. Dean was mostly watching you while Benny and Cas were telling him things, about you. Sam was also watching you, but his was more out of curiosity than anything else.
John and Bobby hung out in the office with the door closed for at least another hour. Dean and Sam were distracting the other four while they worked. You, well, you were changing out the water pump, ignoring all of them. It was what hurt the least.
While you were tightening down the bolts under the car, you noticed a pair of feet standing next to you.
“You really don’t remember us, do you?” he asked.
“Sorry. I really don’t,” you answered, focusing on the bolt that was being a pain to get to.
“Wow. Kinda surprised since we went to the same schools and grew up in the same town,” he chuckled quietly, and you realized it was Sam and not Dean. Sam had a softer voice, and he didn’t call you sweetheart.
“I’m really sorry. I was kind of a loner,” you told him and finally got the bolt tightened down.
Sliding out from under the car and looking up at him, you felt like an ant with how tall he was. You shook off the feeling, got to your feet, and bent over into the engine so you could finish bolting the water pump in place.
“I remember. I heard about what happened, or uh, I mean- what didn’t happen when you turned sixteen,” he told you with that softness you were thankful for.
You shrugged your shoulders briefly, “Doesn’t matter. At least Bobby let me work here. All I ask is that you aren’t being nice to me out of pity. I’d rather be ignored.”
“I don’t pity you. I actually wanted to tell you something I found out while I was at college. It’s rare, like it only happens to one in a billion people. A traumatic event before the age of five can leave a child too scared to get their soulmate’s name when they turn sixteen,” he explained.
You froze where you were. It was more than anything you’d been able to find, and for a moment, you wanted to hope. You quickly brushed it away, though, remembering how badly you’d felt the last time you got your hopes up.
“You gonna keep going or just leave me hanging like that?” you asked, a little sharper than you intended.
Sam took a deep breath, and you missed him glancing at his brother momentarily, “Well, what I read said that the other person still gets their soulmate’s name. The one that went through the trauma has to fully heal from it before they get their soulmate’s name.”
You rolled your eyes, “Kinda hard to heal from something I don’t remember.”
“I just wanted you to know that me and my brother don’t see you like others do, and we’d like to be your friend, if you want,” he replied, then walked away to leave you to your thoughts.
Great. I don’t even know what to do to heal that sort of thing. I don’t even remember my parents. And now, the boss’s kids want to be friends with me. No, that can’t go horribly wrong, can it? Plus, I have to go sit through a celebration with people I don’t remember and others who want nothing to do with me, even if Ellen, Bobby, and Jodi will be there.
You focused on the car but finished it quickly before the Winchesters were even ready to leave. After wiping off your hands, you closed the hood and put the tools away before driving the car out to the finished area so it could wait for its owner to pick it up. When you headed back inside, your eyes were only on the office door, which was still closed. You didn’t see Dean watching you again.
“Hey, Bobby. Cars finished. I didn’t see anything else out back. What do you want me to work on?” you asked, setting the keys on his desk so he could get the paperwork together.
“How about you give Dean the tour? Show him where everythings at?” John suggested with a smirk before Bobby could say a word.
“I figured Benny would do that, since they seem like friends,” you replied, not wanting to interrupt the six of them.
“I’m sure he could, but he won’t. You’re their boss. Comes with the territory,” John told you.
“Yes, Sir,” you replied in a slight mumble, heading back out of the office, closing the door, and then leaning on it.
As you crossed your arms, you watched the six of them. They looked like they were enjoying whatever conversation was happening between them, with Dean laughing at something he must have found funny. With a deep sigh, you walked over to them, slipping your hands into your pockets.
There was instant silence the moment you got close to them, but you didn’t let the hurt show, “John said I should give you a tour and show you where everything is,” you explained to Dean, not really looking at him.
Dean glanced at the office door then back down at you, “If that’s what my dad said, then lead the way, Sweetheart.”
Why does he have to keep calling me that? It’s not like he knows me. Maybe he calls all girls that, and it’s just his thing or something like that.
“Yeah, not like you been in here a day of your life,” Benny teased him, which made you look up at Benny, confused.
“Huh?” was the only word you could manage.
“Oh yeah, Dean’s been working in here since he was knee-high to a grasshopper,” Cas chuckled, teasing Dean.
Your gaze went from each of them and then to Dean, tilting your head in a fair amount of confusion. Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked away from you.
“What’s wrong, Dean? Worried she’ll figure it out?” Benny stated.
“Figure what out?” you asked as Dean glared at Benny.
“Nothing,” Dean snapped, still glaring at Benny.
So, Dean’s got some secret he doesn’t want me to know about.
“Do you still want that tour I’m supposed to give you?” you asked with a sigh, looking more at the floor than anywhere else.
“Dean, you were here less than a month ago. Did you really forget where everything is already?” Cas teasingly asked him.
You’d had enough, so headed out of the garage, tossing your hands up and hollering, “Never mind,” just before making it outside. Once you made it to your car, you texted Bobby and told him you were heading home since there weren’t any more cars to work on at the moment.
The six of them watched as you drove past the garage entrance and then down the driveway. You missed Dean punching Cas in the jaw. You missed John and Bobby going off on Benny and Cas. You also missed Dean going off on Benny. You were too pissed and hurt to even look back.
Bobby didn’t text you back, but you knew if he had an issue or needed you at the garage, he would have said so. The moment you got home, you went straight for the punching bag, needing to get the anger out of your system so you could shower.
How am I gonna get out of tonight? Can I even get out of tonight? Probably not. I’ll have to show up, at least. I can always leave early, though, right?
You groaned at the thought of having to be around people, knowing full well that getting out of it, even early, was going to be difficult. At least you weren’t required to dress up any, so you went for a pair of black jeans, a dark blue shirt, and your favorite deep green flannel pulled over it. At the garage, you typically had your hair pulled back, but for tonight, you left it down.
Parking near the back of Harvelle’s Bar & Grill, you were just staring at the building, dreading going inside and having to “people,” as you called it. The sun had already set, and the darkness was allowing the glimmer of stars to be seen in the night sky, but you didn’t notice them, just the bar in front of you.
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WIP excerpt for lottie behind the cut; a pocketful of Kons.
(( chrono || non-chrono ))
“No,” she snaps. “You just want to keep trying to wear me down about this.”
“You think I’m going to let you go meet Superman on the Watchtower?” Mom demands. “With no way off it and no way for me to know what’s happening up there?!”
“It’s the Watchtower, not the Fortress of Solitude!” Cassie fumes. Even if it were the Fortress of Solitude, it’s not like–
“Kal is not currently on the Watchtower, Helena,” Diana interrupts gently. “And even if he were, I would certainly not take Cassie to see him without at least informing you, nor leave them immediately unchaperoned.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better, Diana!” Mom snaps. “You’d still take her!”
“I would defer to Cassie’s preferences in at least meeting him, yes,” Diana agrees. “Being prepared for the worst is an understandable instinct, my friend, but fixating on the possibility will not help the situation.”
“She’s a child!” Mom says furiously. “She isn’t going anywhere near that man!”
“He’s my soulmate!” Cassie shouts at her. “And I’m old enough to go see him if I want! Heck, I'll be eighteen soon, I could go live with him if I wanted!"
“Cassie!” Mom says, looking horrified. Cassie glowers at her defensively, folding her arms. She could. She could probably do it now, even. That’s a thing sometimes, when a guardian or caretaker or relative or whatever tries to sabotage soulmate relationships. Like, legally it’s a thing, she means. There’s definitely been minors who got emancipated to be with soulmates their parents didn’t approve of. Like–usually it’s gay or interracial or different-religion soulmates, she’s pretty sure, but still. Age differences have definitely done it too.
If her mom’s going to keep trying to push it . . .
“Cassie?” Cas asks worriedly. He’s still holding Odie, floating in the middle of the kitchen and looking anxious again, and Cassie bites her tongue. That’s another reason her mom’s not coming. She keeps upsetting him, and Cassie’s having a hard time not making it worse herself, because she keeps saying such awful things that Cassie can’t bite back her responses to.
“It’s okay, Cas,” she says, and he chirps anxiously and then lets Odie down on the kitchen table before zipping back over to her to bob in the air in and around her head, hovering around her in restless loops.
“Cassie Cassie Cassie,” he frets. “Wondy!”
“That’s me, yeah,” Cassie says, trying to smile at him, then reaches up with cupped hands and lets him drop into them. He lands on his knees and pats anxiously at her face with both hands.
“Cassieeeee,” he frets again, and she exhales and brings him in against her collarbone. He throws his arms around her neck the best he can and clings to her.
She knows Pockets are more emotionally open and honest than the people they came from, usually, but is Superman really like this?
That’s . . . really sad, actually, and makes her feel kind of bad for him. Cas is sweet and wonderful, but he’s also clearly just so anxious and worried, and so easy to upset, and maybe it’s just because he’s brand-new, but obviously Superman’s not brand-new, so . . .
Well. Maybe that’s why Superman’s got another soulmate. If he needs more attention or support, or just more people in his life, or just . . . something like that, Cassie doesn’t really know. Maybe a less-destructible soulmate, since as far as anyone knows his other one is just a standard baseline human. Probably he worries about her, considering, especially if he really gets anxious this easily.
She just doesn’t get why her mom is so upset about something like that. If she can help something like that, well–that’s what soulmates are for, right?
“Our presence has been requested because the League would like to speak to Cassie and meet Castor,” Diana says while Mom is glaring at Cas again, because Mom is being the worst about this and Diana is at least, like, being fair. “Mostly to assess the situation, especially since Kal is allegedly in Metropolis again. Or at least, someone claiming his name and face is.”
“Yeah, I saw a feed of him online,” Cassie says, biting her lip as she remembers that odd–empty look, almost, that’d been on Superman’s face. It didn’t look anything like any of Cas’s expressions have so far, considering. Or any other expression she’s ever seen on his face. Not that they’ve met, obviously, but Superman’s in the news all the time. She’s seen his face a thousand times in her life, and it’s never looked like . . . that.
“Ah, did you?” Diana asks, tilting her head before giving her a nod. “Yes, there have been quite a few posted in the past hour or so, apparently. People are–concerned, given . . . everything.”
“Right,” Cassie says, thinking of that empty expression again and trying not to grimace at the memory of it. Cas really isn’t anything like that, though. Has Superman lost his memory, maybe, or . . . something? He died, so if he came back a little different . . .
Well. Cas isn’t as empty-faced as that news feed was, but also isn’t very much like the pictures she’s seen of Superman before either, really. So . . .
So she isn’t sure, really, what that means. Is he hurt? Is something wrong with him? Does he need help?
She didn’t see his Pocket on the feed. Not the one he’s had all these years in the public eye, and not one from herself either. Maybe he just hasn’t slept, though. Is that a thing? She always thought both soulmates had to be asleep at the same time for Pockets to appear, but maybe not. Maybe that’s just an old wives’ tale or something. And who knows how that even works with Kryptonians, anyway? Who knows if Kryptonians even sleep? Like, ever?
She could ask Diana, she guesses, but it’s probably not the time.
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