Salvation | Devil's Trap | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore
Word Count: 7124
A/N: Whoop whoop! The end of season one!!! Thank y'all so much for reading and sticking with me. I've already been working on season two... ;)
Series Rewrite Masterlist
John had taped countless papers, newspaper clippings, scribblings, and charts of his research on the motel room’s walls. He sat at his paper-strewn desk with the Colt lying on it in front of him. “So this is it. This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we been searching for this demon right? Not a trace, just, nothing. Until about a year ago. For the first time I picked up a trail.”
“And that's when you took off,” Dean said.
John nodded. “Yeah. That's right. The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation.”
“Alright, so what’s this trail you found?” his elder son asked.
“It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us.”
“Families with infants?” Sam chimed in.
“Yeah. The night of the kid's six-month birthday.”
“I was six months old that night?” the younger brother asked, eyes puppy-dog-like.
You looked at Sam sadly. You knew he still blamed himself, and it broke your heart. John nodded again. “Exactly six months.”
“So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me? So Mom's death… Jessica. It's all because of me?” his eyebrows turned upward even more.
“We don’t know that, Sam,” Dean argued gruffly.
“Oh really? Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean,” the brunet threw back.
Dean shook his head frustratedly. “For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault.”
“Right. It's not my fault but it's my problem.”
“No, it's not your problem, it's our problem!” Dean yelled back.
“Boys, enough!” you commanded, standing.
All three men looked at you, surprised, but followed your directions and calmed down.
“So why's he doing it?” Sam asked after a moment. “What does he want?”
“Look I wish I had more answers, I do. I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save....” He looked down unhappily.
Dean sighed. “Alright, so how do we find it before it hits again?”
“There's signs. It took me a while to see the pattern but it's there in the days before these fires signs crop up in an area. Cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked, and—”
“These things happened in Lawrence,” Dean said softly.
“A week before your mother died,” John replied, nodding. “And in Palo Alto, before Jessica. And these signs: they're starting again.”
“Where?” Sam asked.
“Salvation, Iowa.”
***
You and the brothers had been following John closely for hours as you sped toward Salvation, Iowa. Suddenly, John pulled his truck off the road. You shot a look at Dean, who pulled off behind his father.
“Goddammit!” John cried when he got out of his truck.
“What is it?” Dean asked.
“I just got a call from Caleb.”
Dean’s shoulders tensed. “Is he okay?”
“He's fine. Jim Murphy's dead.”
Sam was surprised. “Pastor Jim? How?”
“His throat was slashed. He bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place,” John explained.
“A demon,” you said. “The demon?”
The older man shook his head. “I don't know. Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close.”
“What do we do?” the older son questioned.
“Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week,” John barked.
“Dad, that could be dozens of kids. How do we know which one's the right one?” Sam challenged.
“We check 'em all, that's how. You got any better ideas?”
You all shook your heads. John nodded at you and turned back to his truck. He slammed his hand on his trunk and hung his head low.
“Dad?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. It's Jim,” John replied, never turning to face you three. “You know, I can't— This ends now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes.” He got back into his truck, and you and the boys followed suit. No one talked for the rest of the drive into Salvation.
***
You went with Dean as you normally had been doing on cases when you and the Winchesters split up. You headed to one of the two hospitals to search their birth records.
Dean noticed a beautiful receptionist and walked over to her.
“Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked him.
“Oh, God, yes,” he smiled breathlessly.
You cleared your throat. “We’re working right now, so…” You held up your fake badge to show her. “Can you get us the records of every birth in the last year?”
She nodded. “Of course.” She threw one last longing look to Dean before heading off.
“You wanna keep it professional, officer?” You quirked a brow at him.
***
Later that day, you and the other Winchesters were called to meet Sam back at the motel room. He’d had another vision where the same thing that happened to him happened to a baby he’d met in his search for the six month old that would be attacked.
“A vision,” John said flatly.
Sam was rubbing his temples painfully. “Yes. I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling.”
“And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because…?” his father trailed off.
“Because these things happen exactly the way I see them,” Sam explained.
“It started out as nightmares. Then it started happening while he was awake,” Dean continued, crossing to the counter behind Sam to get some more coffee.
“Yeah,” Sam winced, “It's like the closer I get to anything to do with the demon the stronger the visions get.”
“When were you going to tell me about this?” John snapped at his oldest son.
“We didn't know what it meant.” Dean looked down shamefully.
“Alright, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone, and you call me,” John stated sharply.
Dean threw his cup back on the counter, but you spoke before he could. “All due respect, dude, but Dean did call you.” John looked at you surprised as you continued. “He called you in Lawrence. Sam called when Dean was fucking dying. He’s got a better chance at winning the lottery than getting you on the phone.”
Dean put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.
“You're right. Although I'm not too crazy about this attitude of yours, you're right,” John told you. He turned to his sons. “I'm sorry.”
“Look, guys, visions or no visions, fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family's gonna go through the same hell we went through,” Sam said calmly.
“No they're not. No one is, ever again.”
Sam’s phone rang. “Hello?... Who is this?” He shot up next. “Meg. Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window… Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop… My Dad. I don't know where my Dad is.” He then hesitated for a moment before handing the phone to John.
“This is John,” he said. “I'm here.” A few moments passed before he breathed out a name. “Caleb?”
Sam and Dean reacted immediately, and you recognized that as the name of John’s friend they’d been using as a resource when their dad was missing. “You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go… I don't know what you're talking about… Caleb. Caleb!... I'm gonna kill you, you know that?” His boys approached him, taking either side. “Okay… I said okay, I'll bring you the Colt.”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there… That's impossible. I can't get there in time, and I can't just carry a gun on the plane.” Another moment passed before John handed Sam’s phone back to him. He began to pace around the room. He explained to you that Meg had instructed him to go to a warehouse in Lincoln with the Colt alone.
“So you think Meg is a demon?” Sam questioned.
“Either that, or she's possessed by one. It doesn't really matter,” his father answered.
“What do we do?” you asked.
“I'm going to Lincoln.”
Dean scoffed. “What?”
“It doesn't look like we have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people will die; our friends die.”
“Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family. That gun is all we got; you can't just hand it over,” Sam protested.
“Who said anything about handing it over? Look, besides us and a coupla of vampires, no one's really seen the gun; no one knows what it looks like.”
“So what, you're just going to pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?” Dean questioned.
“Antique store.”
“You're going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?”
“Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference.”
“Yeah but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?” argued the older son.
“I just— I just need to buy a few hours, that's all.”
Sam shot back, “You mean, for Dean, (Y/N), and me. You want us to stay here and kill this demon by ourselves?”
“No, Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home.” John’s voice broke. “I want… I want Mary alive. It's just— I just want this to be over.”
***
After you and the boys had handed off the fake gun to John, you headed to Monica’s house under the cover of night.
Dean and Sam sat with the gun between them, and the three of you watched through the window as Monica and her husband finished dinner.
“Maybe we could tell ‘em it was a gas leak. Might get ‘em out of the house for a few hours.”
“Sam, since when has that ever worked for us?” you countered.
“We could always tell ‘em the truth,” he suggested after a moment.
You and Dean just gave him a skeptical look. The three of you cringed and said, “Naaahhh,” in unison, making you giggle.
“I know I know. I just… with what's coming for these folks…” Sam trailed off.
Dean shook his head at his brother. “Sam we only got one move and you know it, alright? We gotta wait for that demon to show itself, and then we get it before it gets them.”
You looked back at the house for a moment before Sam spoke again. “I wonder how Dad's doing.”
“I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up,” Dean admitted.
“I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing us up.”
You continued watching the house in silence.
“This is weird,” Sam broke the silence again. “After all of these years, we're finally here. It doesn't seem real.”
“We just gotta keep our heads and do our job, like always,” Dean responded.
“Yeah, but this isn't like always.”
“True.”
“Dean, ah… I wanna thank you,” Sam began.
Dean turned to his brother. “For what?”
“For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And, uh, I don't know I just wanted to let you know, just in case—”
“Sam, stop it,” you said. “You are not dyin’ tonight. Nobody is.”
“Except that demon,” Dean continued. “That evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?”
Sam nodded, tears in his eyes. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and laid your head on his back. You continued watching the house from your position resting against Sam, who returned your gesture by holding your arm.
Dean then called his father. “Dad's not answering.”
“Maybe Meg was late. Maybe cell reception’s bad,” you suggested.
“Yeah, well.” He didn’t sound convinced.
The radio suddenly started chattering with static.
“Guys, it’s coming.” You looked out at the light emanating from the home beginning to flicker.
The three of you sprang into action, grabbing the Colt and running into the house. Once inside, you were confronted by Monica’s husband.
“Get out of my house!” he yelled.
Dean fought against the man and pinned him against the wall with the baseball bat the man had been holding. “Be quiet and listen to me. Be quiet and listen! We are trying to help you.” He clearly had no patience.
A woman’s voice called from upstairs. “Charlie? Is everything okay?”
“Monica, get the baby!” the man yelled back.
“Don't go in the nursery!” you and Sam cried at the same time. You and Sam sprinted up the stairs after the woman and began to hear her moaning in pain. You raced into the nursery down the hall to find the woman flung back against the wall rising up to the ceiling. You saw a shadowy figure with glowing, yellow eyes standing over the baby’s crib.
“Rosie!” Monica screamed.
Sam raised the Colt and pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, the demon disappeared into curls of smoke.
Monica screamed and fell to the floor.
“Where the hell did it go?!” Sam yelled.
“I don’t know!” you yelled back.
“My baby!” Monica tried to move toward the crib, but Sam caught her. She fought him as you wrapped the baby in her blanket and pulled her out of her crib. Milliseconds later, the crib burst into flames. You held the baby to your chest and followed Sam and Monica down the stairs and out of the house.
Just as you made it outside, the nursery window exploded outward in a fiery blaze. You ran over to Dean and Monica’s husband who had just regained consciousness.
“You get away from my family,” the husband told you firmly.
“No, Charlie, don't. They saved us,” Monica said, running into her husband’s arms. You handed her baby over to her, and she began to cry. “Thank you.”
You nodded with a sad smile. You turned to the boys who looked up at the burning house. You could see a shadowy figure in the window surrounded by the flames.
Sam tried to go back inside, crying, “It's still in there!”
You and Dean pushed him back. “No!”
“Guys, let me go! It’s still in there!” He continued struggling against you.
“No. It's burning to the ground, it's suicide!” Dean replied.
“I don't care!” Sam yelled back.
Dean shoved his brother one final time. “I do!”
You looked back up at the house and watched the demon disappear. The flames rose higher as you heard Monica’s husband calling 911.
“We’d better get out of here before the cops show up,” you told Monica. “Take care of yourselves.”
“We will. Thank you!”
You shoved the boys back to the Impala and took Dean’s keys from him.
“(Y/N), you are not driving my car.”
“I’ve already done it, Dean, and you are way too emotional to drive right now. I’ve got this.”
“Fine!” He got in the passenger’s seat next to you. “But I swear to god if it gets one scratch—”
“I know, I’m dead.”
***
You and the Winchesters still hadn’t heard from their father.
“Come on Dad, answer your phone, damn it,” Dean grumbled as he paced around. “Something’s wrong.”
Sam stared at the wall; unresponsive to his brother.
“You hear me? Something is wrong.”
Sam’s voice broke as he talked. “If you had just let me go in there, I coulda ended all this.”
“Sam, you would’ve been killed,” you said.
“You don’t know that,” he argued.
Dean walked toward his brother. “So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?”
Sam stood. “Yeah. Yeah, you're damn right I am.”
“Well, that's not going to happen, not as long as I'm around,” Dean responded.
“What the hell are you talking about, Dean, we've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about.”
“Sam, I wanna waste it. I do. Okay? But it's not worth dying over.”
The brunet scoffed. “What?”
“I mean it. If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing,” Dean spat.
“That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom!” Sam yelled.
“You said yourself once, that no matter what we do, they're gone, and they're never coming back.”
Sam completely lost it and threw Dean back against the wall.
“Sam, stop!” You ran to the boys and tried to pull Sam off. He shrugged your grip off him harshly.
“Don't you say that, not you! Not after all this; don't you say that!” Sam yelled.
Dean’s voice quieted. “Sam, look. The three of us… Dad… That's all we have. And it's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together, man… And without you or (Y/N) or Dad....”
“Dad,” Sam cried and turned away. He walked across the room.
Dean stayed where he was and took a few deep breaths.
“Are you okay?” you asked Dean quietly.
He nodded, but kept his gaze on his brother.
“He should have called by now. Try him again,” Sam instructed.
Dean pushed a few buttons and raised his phone to his ear. “Where is he,” Dean spoke angrily into the phone.
You looked up at Dean, concerned, as did Sam.
“They’ve got Dad,” Dean informed you, snapping his phone shut.
“Meg?” you questioned.
Dean just nodded.
“What’d she say?”
“I just told you, sweetheart.”
“Okay, okay,” you ran a hand over your hair.
Dean grabbed the Colt and tucked it into his jeans.
“What are you doing, Dean?” Sam asked.
Dean was already grabbing his duffel bag. “We got to go.”
“Why?”
“Because the demon knows we’re in Salvation, alright. It knows we got the Colt. It’s got Dad— it’s probably coming for us next.” Dean put his jacket back on.
“Good. We’ve still got three bullets left. Let it come.”
“No, Sam, I’m with Dean. We’re not ready,” you said, shouldering your own bag. “We don’t know how many of them are out there, and we’re no good to anybody dead. Let’s go. And we need help.”
Dean looked at you and agreed. “I know a guy.”
***
“Bobby?” you asked. You hadn’t realized he was the man Dean was referring to knowing could help.
“(Y/N),” the man breathed out. He wrapped you in a tight hug. “How the hell are you, kiddo?”
Tears formed in the corners of your eyes. “I’m okay. Listen, we’re in a tight spot. I know Dean told you a bit, but…”
“Come on in,” he said. He checked behind you and the boys to make sure you weren’t followed.
“How do you know Bobby?” Dean asked, walking around the man’s cluttered home. Books were stacked high in every corner, and empty beer bottles covered his kitchen table.
‘Would it kill you to clean every once in a while?’ you thought.
“He found me when I was nineteen and bleeding out in the middle of nowhere,” you explained. “Saved my life and took me in, essentially. And then, uh, I split. My stupid twenty-year-old self couldn’t admit that being alone sucked. I didn’t want anyone to think I needed help. We got in a huge fight, and I left.” You turned to Bobby. “I’m sorry, by the way. I never told you that.”
“It’s okay, kid,” the man drawled. He handed Dean a round silver flask with a cross on it. “Here you go.”
“What is this, holy water?”
Bobby said, “That one is.” He held out the other flask he was holding. “This is whiskey.”
You giggled while Bobby and Dean took swigs of the drink.
Dean handed the flask back to him. “Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure we should come.”
“Nonsense. Your Daddy needs help.”
“Well, yeah, but last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. Cocked the shotgun and everything,” the man chuckled.
“Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people.”
“Amen,” you commented.
Dean shot you a look.
“What?” you replied.
He just rolled his eyes.
“None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back,” Bobby shrugged.
Sam dragged his fingers along the worn pages of the book he was reading. “Bobby, this book: I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He sat on the edge of the desk across from Sam. “Key of Solomon? It’s the real deal, alright.”
“And these protective circles. They really work?” He gestured down to the intricate drawing covering the worn page.
“Hell, yeah. You get a demon in; they’re trapped. Powerless. It’s like a Satanic roach motel.” Bobby tapped the center of the page.
You laughed. You loved his sense of humor. You wished your dad had been more like him, and you wished you hadn’t spent so much time as a teenager trying to go it alone.
“I’ll tell you something else, too. This is some serious crap you kids stepped in.”
“Oh, yeah? How’s that?” you asked.
“Normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops. This year I hear of twenty-seven so far. You get what I’m saying? More and more demons are walking among us; a lot more.” Bobby sounded scared for the first time since you met him.
“Damn,” you commented. “Do you know why?”
“No, but I know it’s something big. The storm’s coming, and you kids, your Daddy— you are smack in the middle of it.”
Bobby’s dog began barking outside.
“Rumsfeld,” Bobby muttered.
The dog stopped barking with a sad whine. You looked out the window to see the chain the dog was tethered to broken and the dog himself nowhere in sight.
“Something’s wrong,” the older man said.
At that moment, Meg kicked the door open and sauntered in. Dean slipped the holy water flask out of his pocket, and you grabbed a knife out of your jacket.
“No more crap, okay?” Meg sang.
Dean tried to go after her, but Meg sent him flying into a stack of books in the corner of the room.
“Hey!” you yelled, trying to take a swing at her. She sent you flying back into Dean. You groaned in pain as you heard Meg continuing to go after Sam for the Colt.
“You okay?” Dean asked you.
You nodded. “C’mon.” You stood shakily and used the wall for support; Dean just behind you.
“First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then, he leaves the real gun with you three chuckleheads. Lackluster, man. I mean, did you really think I wouldn’t find you?” you heard Meg telling Sam and Bobby in the other room.
You stepped into the door frame. “Actually, we were counting on it.” You smirked and looked up at the ceiling that had a Devil’s Trap etched into it.
Dean spat, “Gotcha.”
You set to work tying Meg to a chair in the middle of the floor. She fought you hard, but there wasn’t much she could do given her limited space to move.
“Bitch,” she spat at you.
“Yeah, ditto,” you responded dryly. You stepped back from her.
“You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask,” she said sultrily.
Bobby came up next to you with a large canister of salt. “I salted the door and windows. If there are any demons out there, they ain’t getting in.”
Dean nodded and stood, moving around you to stand in front of Meg. “Where’s our father, Meg?”
“You didn’t ask very nice.”
“Where’s our father, bitch?”
You hated to admit it, but Dean’s interrogation was turning you on.
“Jeez. You kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t,” Meg smirked.
Dean lunged at her and put his hands on the chair arms. “You think this is a fucking game? Where is he?! What did you do to him?”
“He died screaming. I killed him myself!” she growled through gritted teeth.
Dean froze before slapping her across the face.
“That’s kind of a turn on; you hitting a girl,” she smiled.
‘Well, she’s not wrong,’ you thought.
“You’re no girl,” he said.
Bobby stood and moved to the older Winchester. “Dean.”
He turned away from Meg.
“You okay?” you asked him.
“She’s lying. He’s not dead,” he grumbled.
“Dean, you got to be careful with her. Don’t hurt her,” Bobby warned.
“Why?”
“Because she really is a girl; that’s why,” he explained.
You looked back at Meg and her labored breathing. Bobby explained that Meg had been possessed. Dean was furious at the idea of an innocent person being trapped inside her, and you loved that about him. You and the brothers immediately began an exorcism ritual.
“Are you gonna read me a story?” she quipped at the sight of the Book of Solomon Sam was holding.
Dean stepped in front of her. “Something like that. Hit it, Sam.”
Sam began reading the ritual off the pages of the book.
“An exorcism? Are you serious?”
“Oh we’re going for it, baby—” You’d never liked that nickname, but you loved how it sounded coming from Dean; just not directed at Meg. “—head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards.”
Meg flinched at the Latin words coming from Sam’s lips. “I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna rip the bones from your body.”
“No, you’re gonna burn in hell. Unless you tell us where our Dad is.” His smirk was challenging.
Meg just smiled at him.
“Well, at least you’ll get a nice tan,” Dean bit.
Meg continued to shake in pain and gasped finally. “He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time. That’s when I slit his throat.”
Dean leaned down to her. “For your sake, I hope you’re lying. Cause if it’s true, I swear to god, I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me god!”
Sam continued reading while wind started blowing through the room.
“Where is he?!” Dean shouted.
“You just won’t take ‘dead’ for an answer, will you?”
“Where is he?!”
“Dead!” she yelled through gritted teeth.
Dean screamed, “No, he’s not! He’s not dead! He can’t be!”
You looked up at him. “Dean—”
“What are you looking at? Keep reading,” he said gruffly to his brother.
“He will be!” Meg cried.
Dean stopped Sam from reading with a raised hand. “Wait! What?!”
“He’s not dead. But he will be after what we do to him,” she explained breathlessly.
“How do we know you’re telling the truth?”
“You don’t.”
“Sam!”
“A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City," Meg admitted, breathing laboriously.
“Missouri? Where, where? An address!”
“I don’t know,” she cried.
“And the demon— the one we’re looking for— where is it?” Sam interrogated.
“I don’t know! I swear! That’s everything. That’s all I know,” Meg whined.
Dean stalked around her, face set in anger. “Finish it.”
“What? I told you the truth!” Meg screamed, pulling against her restraints.
“I don’t care,” Dean responded.
“You son of a bitch, you promised!” She continued to fight harder despite the pain she was obviously in.
“I lied! Sam? Sam! Read.”
Sam pulled Dean aside. “Maybe we can still use her. Find out where the demon is.”
“She doesn’t know.”
“She lied.”
“Sam, there’s a girl trapped in there somewhere,” you said. “We gotta help her.”
“You’re gonna kill her,” Bobby broke in. “You said she fell from a building. That girl’s body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it and that girl is going to die.”
“We can’t just leave her like that, though!” you protested.
“She is a human being,” Bobby said softly.
“And we’re gonna put her out of her misery. Sam, finish it,” Dean barked.
Sam hesitated.
“Finish it,” his brother commanded.
Sam obliged, taking a deep breath before continuing. Meg threw her head back and screamed, the demon leaving through her mouth in a cloud of inky blackness. It shot up into the Devil’s Trap on the ceiling, and Meg’s head fell forward.
You looked at her, unsure of whether or not it was really over. She slowly lifted her head, and you watched blood drip from her nose and lips.
“Oh, shit,” you muttered. “Call 911, get some water and blankets!” you ordered. “Boys, help me!”
Meg whispered, “Thank you.”
“Shh, shh,” you told her. “Take it easy, okay?”
The boys lifted her off the chair and she yelped in pain. You had them lower her into your lap, so you could cradle her head as a makeshift pillow.
“We’re sorry. We got you, it’s okay,” you assured her.
“A year,” she muttered sadly.
“What?”
“It’s been a year.”
“Shh, just take it easy,” Sam told her.
“I’ve been awake for some of it. I couldn’t move my own body. The things I did… It's a nightmare.” Her voice was broken in soft sobs as blood spilled from her lips and nose.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, brushing her hair back with your hand.
“Was it telling us the truth about our Dad?” Dean asked.
“Dean—” you scolded.
“We need to know.” He looked at you sharply before looking back down at Meg.
“Yes. But it wants... you to know... that... they want you to come for him.”
“If Dad’s still alive, none of that matters.”
Bobby came back in with a blanket and glass of water. You helped Meg drink while the boys covered her in the blanket.
“Where is the demon we’re looking for?” Sam asked her.
“Not there. Other ones. Awful ones,” she answered weakly.
“By the river. Sunrise.” Her head lolled to the side in your lap, eyes never closing and reopening again.
“ ‘Sunrise’,” Dean muttered. “What does that mean? What does that mean?”
But Meg was gone. You continued to brush her hair back with your hand, looking down at the poor girl’s face sadly. Tears rose to your eyes. You felt awful for her. Getting possessed and not being in control of your own body was quite literally your worst nightmare.
“You better hurry up and beat it. Before the paramedics get here,” Bobby told you. The four of you rose from the ground and headed to the door.
“What are you gonna tell them?” Dean asked.
“You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I’ll figure something out.” He handed the Key of Solomon book to Sam. “Here, take this. You might need it.”
“Thanks,” Sam grinned.
“Thanks... for everything. Be careful, alright?” Dean told Bobby.
“You just go find your Dad. And when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won’t even try to shoot him this time.”
You gave him a lopsided smile before pulling him into a hug again. “Thank you. I promise I’ll call.”
“You better, kid. Or I’ll hunt your ass down.”
***
About a day and a half later, you and the boys had rescued a badly beaten John from Sunrise Apartments in Jefferson City, Missouri. You’d found an abandoned cabin deep in the woods to shelter in to attempt to make a game plan to go after the demon. You could tell Dean was conflicted about the fact that he’d had to use one of the Colt’s bullets to save Sam but didn’t regret the choice at all. His confliction came from whether or not his dad would kick his ass to hell and back.
“How is he?” Sam asked. You were busy cleaning up the cuts on his badly beaten face that the demon Dean had killed gave him.
“He just needed a little rest, that’s all. How are you?” Dean questioned, referencing the beating Sam had suffered on the rescue mission.
Sam shrugged. “I’ll survive. Hey, you don’t think we were followed here, do you?”
“I don’t think so,” you said. “We couldn’t have found a more way-out-the-way place to hunker down.”
A moment of silence passed before Sam turned to his brother. “Hey, uh.... Dean, you, um, you saved my life back there.”
Dean smirked. “So, I guess you’re glad I brought the gun, huh?” That had been yet another thing the brothers had fought over.
“Man, I’m trying to thank you here,” Sam chuckled.
“You’re welcome,” the older brother replied.
“All done,” you told Sam. You crossed the room to his brother and sat down next to him.
Dean paused a moment before talking again. “Hey, (Y/N)?”
“Yeah?”
“You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there.”
You sighed. “You had no choice, dude.”
“Yeah, I know, that’s not what bothers me.”
“Then what does?”
“Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t even flinch. For Sam, for my dad... for you..." he couldn't stand to look at you during that admission— "the things I’m willing to do or kill, it’s just, uh, it scares me sometimes.”
You put a hand on his. “I get it. Me too.”
He gripped your hand tightly as John walked into the room. “It shouldn’t scare you. You did good.”
“You’re not mad?” Dean asked.
“For what?”
“Using a bullet.” The elder son’s face was twisted in confusion.
John chuckled. “Mad? I’m proud of you. You know, Sam and I: we can get pretty obsessed. But you, you watch out for this family. You always have.”
Something changed in Dean’s face. “Thanks.”
The wind suddenly picked up outside, and the lights in the room flickered.
“It found us. It’s here,” John breathed out.
“The demon?” Sam questioned, standing on high alert.
“Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door,” John ordered.
“Already done,” you said.
“Well, check it, okay?”
“Okay,” Sam said and left the room.
“Dean, you got the gun?” John asked. “Give it to me.”
Dean took the Colt out of his jeans. “Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It disappeared.”
“This is me. I won’t miss. Now, the gun, hurry,” John commanded.
Dean hesitated and looked down at the gun. You looked between the two men, confused as to what was going on.
“Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?”
Dean backed up. “He’d be furious.”
John turned away from the window. “What?”
“That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me; he’d tear me a new one.” Dean cocked the gun and pointed it at John. He pushed you behind him, covering you with his free arm protectively. “You’re not my Dad.”
“Dean, it’s me.” John looked at him like he was crazy.
“I know my Dad better than anyone. And you ain’t him,” Dean responded.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Stay back.”
Sam came into the room, shocked to see Dean pointing the gun at John. “Dean? What the hell’s going on?”
“Your brother’s lost his mind,” John scoffed.
“No, he hasn’t. It’s not your dad, Sam,” you said.
“I think he’s possessed. I think he’s been possessed since we rescued him.” Dean began to get upset.
John protested, but Sam turned to you and Dean. “Dean, how do you know?”
Dean was fighting back tears. “He’s... he’s different.”
“You know, we don’t have time for this. Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you’ve gotta trust me,” John stated firmly.
Sam stepped back behind you and Dean.
“Fine. You’re all so sure, go ahead. Kill me,” John spat, seeming emotional. He looked down and waited. Dean held the gun on him, but couldn’t pull the trigger.
“I thought so.” John looked up grinning; eyes yellow with snake-like slits running down the middle.
Sam lunged at him, but was thrown and pinned against the wall.
“You son of a—” John threw you back against the wall next to Sam, too; cutting you off. Dean shouted your name but ended up pinned as well.
John picked up the Colt that Dean had dropped. “What a pain in the ass this thing’s been.”
“It’s you, isn’t it? We’ve been looking for you for a long time,” Sam stated.
“Well, you found me,” the demon grinned.
“But the holy water?” the younger son asked in reference to the bit he'd splashed on him during the rescue.
“You think something like that works on something like me?” he taunted.
You tried to fight against the force that had you pinned down, but couldn’t.
“I’m gonna kill you!” Sam screamed.
“Oh, that’d be a neat trick. In fact—” he put the gun down on the table, “—here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy.”
Sam looked down at the gun, but nothing happened.
“Well, this is fun. I could’ve killed you a hundred times today, but this... this is worth the wait.” He stalked over to Dean who struggled against his power. “Your Dad: he’s in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says ‘hi,' by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood.”
“Let him go, or I swear to god—”
The demon cut Dean off. “What? What are you and god gonna do? You see, as far as I’m concerned, this is justice. You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter. The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand.”
Dean mockingly groaned, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What? You’re the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?” The demon smiled maliciously. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don’t make a right.”
“You son of a bitch,” Dean spat.
“I wanna know why. Why’d you do it?” Sam asked.
“You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?” He turned back to Dean. “You know, I never told you this, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything.” He turned back to Sam and walked over to him. “You want to know why? Because they got in the way.”
“In the way of what?” Sam asked.
“My plans for you, Sammy. You... and all the children like you.”
“Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing,” Dean remarked.
The demon strutted back over to him. “Funny, but that’s all part of your M.O., isn’t it? Masks all that nasty pain; masks the truth.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Dean ground out.
“You know, you fight, and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam: he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you. And (Y/N)? Your thing with her is pretty pathetic, I gotta say.”
“I bet you’re real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot. I wasted ‘em,” Dean challenged, smiling. John looked at Dean and backed up, putting his head down. When he looked back up, Dean yelled in pain.
“What are you doing to him?! Stop!” you cried, fighting against your invisible restraints even harder.
Dean began bleeding heavily from his chest. “Dad! Dad, don’t you let it kill me!”
You struggled as hard as you could to get free, but you helplessly watched blood flow out of Dean’s mouth.
“Dad, please.” Dean’s cry broke your heart just before he passed out.
“Dean!” you and Sam yelped. You were suddenly let go, and you dove across the floor to Dean. He slumped to the ground, bleeding profusely.
“Dean, Dean, look at me, baby, please,” you cried. You looked up at Sam pointing the gun at John as you pulled Dean into your lap.
“You kill me, you kill Daddy,” the demon taunted Sam.
“I know.” He fired the gun and shot it in the leg.
Sam rushed over to you. “Dean? Dean, hey? Oh god, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Where’s Dad?” Dean groaned, coming back to.
“He’s right here. He’s right here, Dean.”
“Go check on him.”
You stayed with Dean, crying as you brushed a hand over his cheek.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled despite the situation.
“Shh, shh, stop it.” You shook your head. You turned the palm of your hand up that had been sitting on his chest. It was completely turned red. “Oh, my god.”
He grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over yours. “I’m okay.”
You turned back to John and Sam as the older man yelled, “Sammy! It’s still alive. It’s inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son! Do it now!”
“Sam, don’t you do it. Don’t you do it,” Dean pleaded.
“You’ve gotta hurry! I can’t hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I’m begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!” John begged.
“Sam, no!” you said.
“You do this! Sammy! Sam!” The demon suddenly fled from John, and the man collapsed on the ground.
John looked up at Sam accusingly. You called the brunet over to you. “You gotta help me. We gotta get him to a hospital now,” you cried. You and Sam shouldered Dean and brought him to the car while he groaned in pain.
You sat next to him in the backseat. His body was slumped over against the door, and you leaned against his chest to make sure his heart was still beating. Or, that was what you told yourself, at least. Despite the situation, you found the feeling of him against you comforting.
Sam got his father down in the car and began to speed away from the cabin.
“Look, just hold on, alright. The hospital’s only ten minutes away,” Sam told his father.
“I’m surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn’t you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first— before me, before everything.”
Sam looked up at you and his brother in the rearview mirror. “No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we’ve still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon—”
Suddenly, the car was thrown to the side and continued to skid down a hill. You held Dean against you despite the blood soaking into your hair and clothes and silently prayed for this all to be over. You could feel the side of the car had been pushed in on top of your legs, and finally, the car stopped moving.
“Dean!” you cried. “Guys!” No one was responding to you. “Dean!”
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