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aspenmissing · 10 months

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𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

Dean is on the computer; Sam is drawing a picture of a tree and Theo is reading through their father's journal.

"All right. I've been cruisin' some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali-its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas. Hey" Sam looks up from his drawing "Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"

"No. I'm listening. Keep going" Sam says.

"And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times" Dean waves his hand in front of Sam's face "Any of these things blowin' up your skirt, pal?"

"Wait. I've seen this" Sam says looking at the picture he drew.

"See what?" Sam gets up from the bed and goes searching through his duffel bag "What are you doing?" Theo asks. Sam finds a photo of their family from when he was a baby. He compares the tree in the photo to his drawing. They are the same.

"Dean, Theo, I know where we have to go next"

"Where?" Dean asks.

"Back home-back to Kansas"

"Okay, random. Where'd that come from?" Sam shows the picture to Theo and Dean.

"All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?"

"Yeah" Theo says.

"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?"

" I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin' about?" Dean asks.

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but...the people who live in our old house-I think they might be in danger"

"Why would you think that? Theo asks.

" Uh...it's just, um...look, just trust me on this, okay?" Sam starts to walk away, Dean and Y/N follow him.

"Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?"

"Yeah"

"I mean, I trust him" Dean looks at her. She shrugs. He then looks back at Sam.

"Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give me a little bit more than that"

"I can't really explain it is all"

"Well, tough. I'm not goin' anywhere until you do" Sam sighs.

"I have these nightmares" Sam says.

"We've noticed" Theo says.

"And sometimes...they come true" The twins look stunned.

"Come again?" Dean asks.

"Look, Dean, Theo... I dreamt about Jessica's death-for days before it happened"

"Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence" Dean says sitting down on the bed.

"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it 'cause I didn't believe it. And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?"

"I don't know?" Dean says getting overwhelmed. Theo sits down next to him. Then Sam sits across from the two.

"What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!"

"All right, just slow down, would ya?" Dean stands up and begins pacing "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the Shining? And then you tell me that we gotta go back home? Especially when..." Dean says gesturing between himself and Theo.

"When what?" Sam asks.

"When we swore to ourselves that we would never go back there" Theo says sadly.

"Look, Dean, Theo, we have to check this out. Just to make sure" Sam says softly.

"I know we do" Dean says.

Dean pulls up outside of a house and the three look at it.

"You two gonna be all right?" Theo lets out a deep exhale and nods.

"Let me get back to you on that" Dean says. They get out of the car and they go up to the door. They knock and a women answers.

"Yes?" She asks.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal-"Dean says but is cut off by Sam.

"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean and Sister, Theo. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin' by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place"

"Winchester. Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night"

"You did?" Dean asks. Jenny nods and steps aside.

"Come on in" They go inside. Inside the house, the four of them go to the kitchen. A little girl is sitting at the table doing homework and a toddler is in his playpen.

"Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!"

"That's Ritchie. He's kind of a juice junkie" She takes a sippy cup out of the refrigerator and hands it to Richie "But, hey, at least he won't get scurvy" She walks over to the little girl "Sari, this is Sam, Dean and Theo. They used to live here"

"Hi" Sari says. Dean and Theo wave.

"Hey, Sari" Sam says.

"So, you just moved in?" Theo asks.

"Yeah, from Wichita"

"You got family here, or...?"

"No. I just, uh...needed a fresh start, that's all. So, new town, new job- I mean, as soon as I find one. New house"

"So, how you likin' it so far?" Sam asks.

"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home- I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here" Dean smiles weakly, and Theo grabs his arm, smiling softly "But this place has its issues"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly"

"Oh, that's too bad. What else?"

"Um...sinks backed up, there's rats in the basement" She pauses "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain" The three aren’t offended.

"No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?"

"It's just the scratching, actually"

"Mom?" Jenny kneels down next to her "Ask them if it was here when they lived here.

"What, Sari?" Sam asks.

"The thing in my closet"

"Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets" She says looking at Sam, Dean and Theo "Right?"

"Right. No, no, of course not" Theo says, smiling down at Sari.

"She had a nightmare the other night"

"I wasn't dreaming. It come into my bedroom-and it was on fire" Sam, Theo and Dean are shocked.

The three walk back to the car.

"You hear that? A figure on fire"

"And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?" Dean asks.

"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit"

" Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin' true" Sam gets panicked.

"Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"

"I don't know!"

"Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?"

"Or maybe it's something else entirely, Sam, we don't know yet" Theo says.

"Well, those people are in danger, Theo. We have to get 'em out of that house"

"And we will"

"No, I mean now"

"And how you gonna do that, huh? You got a story that she's gonna believe?"

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sam asks.

"We just gotta chill out, that's all. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" Theo asks as Sam sighs.

"We'd try to figure out what we were dealin' with. We'd dig into the history of the house"

"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened"

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?" Sam asks. Dean and Theo look at each other.

"About that night, you mean?" Dean asks.

"Yeah"

"Not much. I remember the fire...the head" Dean pauses for a moment, Theo reaches over and rubs his arm, and he sighs "And then I carried you out the front door with Theo gripping my arm"

"You did?" Sam asks, surprised.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?" Sam shakes his head.

"No"

"And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was...was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her"

"And he never had a theory about what did it"

"If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times"

"Okay. So, if we're gonna figure out what's goin' on now...we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it's the same thing"

"Yeah. We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbours, people who were there at the time" Theo says and they pause for a second.

"Does this feel like just another job to you?" Sam asks. They say nothing for a moment.

"I'll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom" She walks away. After turning a corner, she stands next to the bathroom door and takes out her cell phone. After making sure no one can see her, she dials a number.

"This is John Winchester. If this is an emergency, call my daughter, Theo at 866-907-3235"

"Dad? I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you'll get 'em" She clears her throat "But I'm with Sam and Dean. And we're in Lawrence. And there's somethin' in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but..." Her voice breaks. She pauses, barely keeping herself together "...I don't know what to do. Dean doesn’t know what to do" She begins to cry "So, whatever you're doin', if you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad" She hangs up sadly, with tears in her eyes.

Dean, Theo and Sam are talking to the owner of a garage.

"So, you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, we used to, a long time ago. Matter of fact, it must be, uh...twenty years since John disappeared. So why the cops interested all of a sudden?"

"Oh, we're re-opening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of 'em" Theo says.

"Oh, well, what do you wanna know about John?"

"Well, whatever you remember, you know, whatever sticks out in your mind"

"Well...he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that" He laughs "And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's that whole Marine thing" Dean, Sam and Theo nod "But, oh, he sure loved Mary. And he doted on those kids"

"But that was before the fire?" Sam asks.

"That's right"

"He ever talk about that night?"

"No, not at first. I think he was in shock" The owner says.

"Right. But eventually? What did he say about it?"

"Oh, he wasn't thinkin' straight. He said somethin' caused that fire and killed Mary"

"He ever say what did it?" Dean asks.

"Nothin' did it. It was an accident-an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or somethin'. I begged him to get some help, but..."

"But what?"

"Oh, he just got worse and worse"

"How?" Theo asks.

"Oh, he started readin' these strange ol' books. He started goin' to see this palm reader in town"

"Palm reader? Uh, do you have a name?" The owner scoffs.

"No"

The car is parked by a payphone, where Sam is looking through a phonebook.

"All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town. There's someone named El Divino. There's, uh-" Sam laughs "-there's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. Uh, Missouri Moseley-"

"Wait, wait. Missouri Moseley?" Theo asks. Both her and Dean look at each other.

"What?"

"That's a psychic?" Dean asks.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so" Theo goes into the backseat of the car and pulls out John's journal.

"In Dad's journal...here, look at this" Dean opens to the first page "First page, first sentence, read that"

"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth" Sam reads.

"We always thought he meant the state" Dean says.

#older sister winchester #supernatural #Oc Insert #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom

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dcforts · 3 years

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[week #2: drive-in cinema]

1.1k, S5-ish.

Cas appears out of nowhere in the passenger seat, making Dean jump out of his skin and spill soda all over himself.

“Jesus, Cas! I said you gotta stop doing that."

“Sorry,” he says, staring as Dean checks the wet stains on his clothes and the bag of french fries in his lap. His shirt is soaked but the food's still edible and the seat is dry so at least there's that.

Cas raises his gaze above his shoulder and takes in the cars parked on either side of the Impala, the snack bar in the distance and the big screen in front of them, where Dr. Lesh is talking to little Robbie, more or less one hour into Poltergeist. A wrinkle appears in between his eyebrows. “Where are we?”

“At a drive-in, you dumbass.”

Cas looks back at him in confusion.

“It’s where you watch movies from your car.”

“I know,” he says, with an irritated inflection, like that wasn’t what he was confused about. He doesn’t elaborate further, “Where is Sam?” he asks.

“Stayed at the motel,” Dean says, giving up on his shirt and starting to feel irritated too, “Why are you here again?”

The question makes the wrinkle disappear and his face go back to his usual business-like expression, “I found a werehouse that I have reason to believe is occupied by demons. It’s heavily warded against angels so I need you to go inside.”

Dean shoves a couple of soggy fries in his mouth. His eyes go back to the screen, “Oh, yeah? Okay.”

Cas frowns again, “It’s best if we get Sam first.”

“Wait, you mean now?”

Cas just stares.

“Yeah, forget it, man. We wrapped a case like two hours ago. Now I’m relaxing. Sam's probably asleep. We ain’t going to no werehouse with you tonight.”

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but the music in Poltergeist swells omniously and it distracts him. He turns to look at the screen, at Marty taking his face off in front of the mirror. His frown deepens, “Do you find this relaxing? In your line of work?”

“Uh – yeah?” Dean says, grabbing another fry from the bag, “In movies the bad guys – y'know, nevermind, you wouldn’t get it,” he says, gesturing with the hand holding the fry.

Cas follows the movement with his eyes right up until Dean brings it to his mouth. When it disappears behind Dean’s lips his gaze travels up to his eyes again. It makes Dean feel weird for a second.

“So, you won’t go?” he says and Dean remembers to feel annoyed at him.

He exhales, “Look, come get me tomorrow, okay?”

Cas blinks. “Okay,” he says, but doesn’t disappear immediatly like Dean expects. He goes back to studying the screen as the ghosts go down the stairs, blowing everyone’s mind.

Dean throws him a look, “You wanna watch it?”

“No, I should go,” says Cas, his tone flat, his eyes still fixed on the movie.

“To spend the whole night looking at a werehouse you can’t even go in? You can get a night off, right? What’s the – company policy up there?”

“That doesn’t matter anymore.”

Dean tries not to roll his eyes at how dramatic he sounds.

“Okay, so you can live a little," he says and then amuses himself adding, “Just try not to talk too much if you can, Chatty Cathy, and maybe we’ll go get milkshakes after.”

Cas looks at him confused again and Dean raises his eyebrows, “It’s a drink. It’s got like milk and ice cream and whatever.”

“I know what a milkshake is,” he says, irritated once again. “I won’t have one.”

Dean rolls his eyes this time, “Fine.” He guesses it’s Cas’ way of saying he’s going to stay after all.

He crumples up the paper bag and makes himself comfortable against his seat. On the screen, Steve is talking to Mr. Teague.

Cas does not in fact talk for the rest of the movie, but Dean still gets a kick out of him being there, seeing his shoulders losing some of their stiffness, his perplexed expressions, his eyes widen and squint when the soundtrack changes.

By the time the credits start rolling, Dean realizes he studied Cas' reactions as much as he’s watched the screen. Whatever, he’s seen it like fifty times and can recite it backwards. It’s not like every day you get to go to the movies with a capital A-angel - Dean’s just curious.

Cas doesn’t disappear when the movie ends either, so Dean really drives them to the nearest diner to get himself a milkshake. Cas gets out of the car and stands next to him while he waits for his turn in line, so Dean tells him about special effects and Spielberg and the freaky curse on the franchise he and Sam haven't had the chance to go and properly investigate yet.

“There’s a second one then?” Cas asks as Dean is driving back to the motel.

“Yeah, but there are also others you should watch,” he says - his mind already working out a list. “I'm thinking The Texas Chain Saw Massacre next - another classic. We could rent it sometimes -” he trails off.

What is he even saying? He frowns at himself. They’re currently busy with nothing less than the freaking apocalypse, making plans for movie nights it’s just stupid.

Cas doesn’t say it’s stupid. He says, “Okay."

"O-okay? Yeah, uh - alright."

Dean stops the Impala right outside his room and Cas surveys the surroundings for a moment.

“I will see you tomorrow then,” he says after, looking back at him.

All of the sudden the car seems too small and too quiet and too dark. Dean doesn’t know how he's been in that space for hours and he’s only just noticing it. He doesn’t feel like talking so he just nods.

“Good night, Dean,” Cas says.

“Night,” says Dean to an already empty seat.

He goes to bed still feeling weird for making plans with Cas, as if once this business is done they won’t go on their own separate ways without looking back, as if Cas would come down from Heaven to hang out on Friday nights or something.

Cas must know though. Cas must know and he indulged him anyway.

Maybe he did cause he thinks they're gonna get killed in the end, so it doesn't really matter, or maybe he's just as much a delusional dumbass as he is, thinking that one day they'll have the time and place for that.

It'd be fun though, Dean thinks, as he falls asleep.

It's a pity. They could have a good time.

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and i said YES

#deancas #deancas ficlet #deancassummerprompts21 #you know nothing dean w #you will bb dont worry #i never went to a drive in #!!!!#i hope this summer ill get the chance #me trying to think of an ending for anything: lets put them to bed #my writing #destiel fanfic

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atc74 · 3 years

Text

Eye of the Beholder

Warnings: Poor body image (?), slight angst, a little envy, a lot of fluff, and implied sexy times

Summary: Jensen is feeling less confident in himself lately and you think you know why. He has always been there for you, now you just need to show your husband he has no reason to be.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1470

Written for: @breakthezone first quarter challenge, which was to choose one of two prompts. Mine is bolded below.

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, cause she is the best

A/N: So you know the pictures, the spread, the article in THAT magazine, featuring that beautiful soul, and that would cause any man to think less of himself, but I thought, what would go through Jensen’s head and how would I help him through it.

Like Jensen’s Warmth? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

The cold snowy mountains were a stark contrast to the warm flatland of their home state, but Y/N was loving the quietness and solace of the northeast. Y/N pulled into the snow-covered driveway and started unloading the groceries. She planned accordingly and for weeks at a time; they didn’t have many delivery options out there.

“Honey, I’m home! What do you say you come help me carry in and put away all this food and I make you a nice, juicy porterhouse for dinner?” Y/N called from the kitchen as she dropped the load on the counter. “Honey? Jay?” The house was mostly silent but then she heard it. The distinct smack of fists and feet hitting the heavy bag Jensen installed in the home gym. She sighed knowing this was the third day in a row Jensen had spent hours in the gym, working out until he was ready to drop.

Y/N brought in the rest of the bags, stored the food, and changed her clothes. If she was going to join him in the gym, at least she could participate. It wasn’t like it was a hardship watching her husband in only a pair of shorts, his freckled skin dripping with sweat.

She brought fresh water with her, setting it on the weight bench. He was breathing heavy, sweating, and red-faced. Jensen was not out of shape by any means, but he somehow had gotten it in his head that he needed to get into better shape. Maybe it was the pressure of becoming Soldier Boy, maybe it was that he was approaching his “mid-forties”, it could have been a few things, but Y/N thought she knew exactly what had prompted this new obsession. “Hey, honey.”

“Hey, babe,” he rasped, his breaths heavy with exertion, his hair soaking. “Just a few more minutes.” He landed another two punch kick combo.

“Jay, you have got to take a break. You can’t keep going like this, hours a day, day after day,” Y/N pleaded with him. “This is enough for today.”

“Yeah, okay. Maybe you’re right.” He stopped, hugging the bag tightly, holding on as he tried to catch his breath.

“Go shower, I’ll get dinner started, okay?” Y/N smiled, kissing him softly.

“You got it. I’m pretty sure I reek anyway.”

Leafy greens and brightly colored vegetables covered the kitchen island as Y/N chopped and sliced away. The cuts of meat were sitting out to warm up before grilling, and a nice bottle of a full-bodied red was breathing on the table. Jensen emerged from the hallway leading from their bedroom about thirty minutes later, looking a little worse for the wear. He pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, swiping a handful of peppers, too.

“I saw that mister,” she smiled, leaning into his touch. “But I’m gonna let it slide just ‘cause you smell nice.”

“Better than before?”

“Oh, way better,” she laughed, turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Want to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing, babe. Just trying to stay in shape. I gotta get in that custom suit in a couple of weeks, and I ain’t getting any younger.” Jensen looked down, running a hand over his face, scratching at his beard.

“That’s all, huh?”

“Yeah, just running isn’t gonna cut anymore. I have to keep up.”

“Keep up with…?”

Jensen pretended he didn’t hear Y/N as he started helping with the salad. If he ignored the question, maybe she would let it go. It seemed to be working, for now, so he went with it, and continued to help her with dinner.

“Jay, these look perfect!” Y/N gushed as she cut into the steak. She placed the bite in her mouth, the flavor exploding, and she moaned around it. “Oh my god, it's practically melting in my mouth!”

“You made it easy with a superb cut of meat, babe,” Jensen shrugged, digging into his salad and grilled vegetables.

All through dinner, Y/N noticed how he barely touched his meat or wine, but took extra helpings of the healthy stuff. She decided she would let it go, wanting to enjoy their meal, but soon enough, the dishes were cleared and leftovers stored.

“Jay?” Y/N asked, rinsing the plate in her hand before handing it to her husband. “Can I ask you something?”

“Babe, you can ask me anything, you know that.”

“And promise me you won’t get mad?”

“I won’t get mad, but now I am a little suspicious,” Jensen raised one eyebrow, looking over at his wife.

“Does your new workout regimen have anything to do with Jared’s spread in Men’s Health?”

“No.” Jensen protested immediately.

“Jay…”

“Maybe,” he sighed, throwing the towel on the counter, then he turned, leaning against it. “Am I...soft?”

“Soft? I think you are the kindest, most generous, loving man I’ve ever known,” Y/N replied honestly. “I am lucky I found you and even luckier that you love me.”

“Well, thank you for that, babe, but I was asking about my physical appearance,” Jensen hung his head, his voice getting quieter as he talked. “Do I have a ‘dad bod’?”

“Jensen Ross Ackles, you listen to me right now. You have never looked better and you are in the best shape of your life. You just completed a 15 year run on the most successful sci-fi television show in history, you are stepping into an iconic role that you were hand-picked for, and if a ‘dad bod’ looks like this, then yes!” Y/N gestured to her husband while rambling on trying to make her point. “No, you know what? Come here, come sit down with me. Bring the wine.”

Y/N sat down with her laptop, intent on showing her husband the proof he needed to believe her and believe in himself. Jensen sat down next to her, handing her a fresh glass, as she pulled up photo after photo on the screen.

“Do you see what I see?”

“No, I see a skinny kid from Texas with no hair on his chest and barely-there abs,” he scoffed.

“Okay, you still don’t have chest hair, but what else do you see?” She prompted him again.

“A pudgy mid-section and that was before I turned 40!”

“Do you want to know what I see?”

“You’re biased.”

“You’re damn right I am, but I do know that your fans, the Dean-girls, well, they’re not wrong. Did you know that according to several fan sites, you and Dean have way more fans than Jared and Sam? And are you telling me that millions of people are wrong?”

“Millions?” he asked skeptically.

“Okay, well, maybe not millions, but a lot! But I see a man that is in better shape than he was twenty years ago. I see a skinny kid from Texas too. But I also see a man who now is in the best shape of his life and way sexier than that skinny kid.. What is it that you’re always telling me when I complain about my baby muffin top or my thunder thighs?”

“That bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and beauty isn’t defined by your body shape; it’s defined by your soul and you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

“Okay, and I usually argue with you when you do, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. We are our own worst critics, you know that. But I see a healthy body and strong arms. Arms that hold me better than any others on the planet. Arms that hold our children and comfort them when they are hurt. I see a sexy mind and a stunning soul, one that was made for me.”

“Okay, I think that is enough wine for you,” Jensen reached for the glass, but you moved it out of his reach.

"Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?"

“Fine, it could have been a smile.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, my exceptionally sexy wife made a pretty good point.”

“Oh? Tell me more.”

“Well, she may also be the smartest person I know. She always knows just what to say when my dumbass is being, well a dumbass.”

“Yeah, I am pretty damn smart. Because you know what else I did? I made arrangements for your visiting parents to keep the children overnight so they can swim until they pass out.”

“Wow, that is pretty smart. You know, I’ve been working out and I bet I could carry you all the way upstairs without breaking a sweat.”

“Oh, you’re on Ackles, but you are wrong about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“We will definitely be working up a sweat!”

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @kickingitwithkirk @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @gh0stgurl @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid @manawhaat @crashdevlin @fangirlxwritesx67 @winchesterprincessbride @waywardbeanie @jensengirl83 @anathewierdo3467 @winchest09 @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @waywardbaby thewinchesterandreidwhore @anathewierdo

The Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @adoptdontshoppets @supernatural-jackles @fandom-princess-forevermore @akshi8278 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @deanwanddamons @rockhoochie

#BTZ #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles flangst #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles fanfiction

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

8x06: Southern Comfort

Then:

Garth

Now:

Kearney, Missouri

A husband --possibly in the dog house?- gets run over by his very angry wife, and the audience gets to see the defacement of set dressing I have no desire to see in the first place.

Our boys are STILL fighting about Sam’s year of psychosis and Dean’s year of pining and romantic (and sexual?) frustration. Dean tells Sam he’s ready to talk about Benny whenever. Sam’s so pissed about Benny, but, like, grr, I firmly hold to the fact that Ameila was a figment of Sam’s psychosis because she’s not even close in comparison to their respective distractions to the job. Benny meant more somehow. Sam “Let’s Give the Monsters a Chance” Winchester just wants Dean to kill Benny ---and I haven’t read enough meta to understand why. Dean’s answer, and the only one that matters: “He’s my friend, Sam.”

I get that this entire scene sets up the episode, but I’m still grrr about it.

Anyway, the boys head off to their case, and find Garth!

He’s posing as a Texas Ranger.

Garth is working cases, and he’s the new Bobby. Dean, bby, it’s okay. They go and interview the son of the victim/assailant. He tells them that his parents had a good marriage, and they were high school sweethearts. It makes no sense. His mom is at the hospital -and remembers nothing of the event.

Assessing the crime scene, Garth finds ectoplasm. It’s green --not black. And Garth tastes it. Dean is not amused. Garth also gets a call from the coroner. The dead guy had the word ‘Alcott’ carved into his chest.

They interview the wife. She doesn’t remember much --just a LOT of anger. Garth asks about ‘Alcott’ and she talks about her husband going to a dance with Sara Alcott in high school. Sara Alcott’s still alive --so this is a weird ghost possession.

They head for food. Once at the bar, Garth asks Dean where he was the past year (Sam being locked away in a cabin hallucinating and recovering from his satan delusions.) He tells Garth that his was in the non-Miami Purgatory. “Man, that’s balls.” Oh, GARTH.

Dean asks about the confederate bullshit on the walls, and Garth fills them in on the fact that Missouri was a border state. He then reveals the genesis of his current job. He went to college and dental school. His first job was ganking the tooth fairy.

Scott, the victim’s son, is about to head into a general store when he gets a call from his wife. He sees someone that he’s clearly trying to avoid, and then takes a hit from his asthma inhaler. Grabbing some money, and getting some black goo to ooze out of his ear, he heads inside.

He’s pouring himself a hot cup of coffee when the dude he clearly didn’t want to see before confronts him. Scott throws the cup of coffee in his face and proceeds to take a shovel to the dude. LIKE WOW.

But watching a security mirror reveals that he’s really an angry confederate soldier. Of course.

Later at the scene, Sam, Dean, and Garth learn that Scott didn’t remember anything, felt a whole lot of anger, and the word ‘Sussex’ is scrawled in blood on the cooler door. Also, Garth is wearing Bobby’s hat.

Oof.

Dean is not amused.

Sam heads off to interview Sara Alcott Brown. She tells him of her youth. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it’s clear the wife never forgot what happened. Sam flashes to a post-coiltal Sam and Amelia. Amelia confesses she once had a husband. He died in Afghanistan.

She ran away from her life, and met Sam.

The team realizes that the dead and the killers all had long held resentments with each other. Garth uncovers some lore from Bobby’s journal: they’re looking for a spectre or an “avenging ghost” that forces you to act on long-held resentments. They discover a nearby grave desecration - it’s the Confederate tomb of the unknown soldier. That night they break into the tomb to burn the bones. Dean delivers a fitting eulogy: “We won.”

At the jail, the shovel-bashing son from earlier begs for his inhaler. When a deputy fishes it out of evidence, he suddenly goes vengeful and shoots his boss.

At the station, they speculate that the burn job didn’t take because there’s a haunted object being passed from person to person. Sam interviews another officer, who reveals that a deputy with murder in his eyes is on his way to the hospital. Dean pursues.

Sam and Garth follow up on another lead, and Garth encourages Sam to talk about his feelings. LOL, good luck, buddy! Sam has….ANOTHER FLASHBACK. This time, Amelia tells Sam that she vomited out too many feelings the night before, and she’s gotta go. Sam puppy dog eyes her, but she leaves anyway. (Boris maintains that Amelia was a hallucination, but Natasha now believes that Amelia is the blurry wife in the cursed finale. This...somehow makes the finale worse, for her.)

Sam and Garth talk to a hot librarian about the history of the unknown soldier. Dean, meanwhile, confronts the ghost-mad deputy who’s confronting a nurse or doctor....over a past bad call as a recreational league UMPIRE. smh

Garth and Sam learn that the rumored resident of the unknown soldier’s tomb is one of two estranged brothers. One brother fought for the confederacy and the other for the union. (LOOKS DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA.) Sam notices a penny necklace in the portrait of the soldier.

For Hot Librarian Science:

At the hospital, the ghost sniffs Dean and finds him delicious….ly full of anger and betrayal. He jams the penny into Dean’s hand. Sam calls Dean and lets him know about the penny. Too little, too late. Dean’s waiting for them at the motel room and immediately points a gun at Sam. “You shoulda looked for me when I was in Purgatory.”

Flashback to three days ago which is...a bit jarring. Careless teens play with the items in the soldier’s tomb. One of them pockets the coin, which they use to pay for snacks at a store. Later, the woman from the cold open gets the coin back in change. We get the full chain of custody of the coin - I suppose to show us that it’s super duper hard to shake off that darn ghost. I recall 15x19 and grind my teeth.

Cut back to Dean, who is still ready for MURDER. Dean rattles off a list of grievances from the prior seasons.

Sam tries to wrest the gun from Dean’s hands and gets knocked across the room for his trouble. Garth intervenes, using himself as a shield, and tries to de-escalate the situation. Sam fails to READ THE ROOM and brings up Benny again. Smh

When Dean lunges for Sam, Garth knocks him one right in the kisser and when Dean reels back the coin drops. Dean’s abruptly himself again.

Garth reaches for the coin to Sam and Dean’s concern. But as we all know, Garth is a PURE SOUL and is therefore immune to vengeful spectres.

After Garth destroys the coin, he sternly tells Dean to “stop being an idjit” and get along with Sam! They hug, and Dean gives Garth Bobby’s hat back. HEARTS

Alas, the episode doesn’t end on a high note. Sam has one more flashback to his time with - DEEP SIGH - Amelia. Sam comes crawling back to Amelia and finally reveals his sob story about losing his brother. She lets him into her room and they reconcile.

Flash forward in time again. Sam tells Dean Amelia’s full name as though he’s actually dropping her life story. He continues to harangue Dean about keeping Benny a secret. He threatens to kill Benny the next time he sees him and on that positive note, the episode ends.

Natasha’s takeaway: There are WAY too many confederate flags in this episode with WAY too little judgment about them

I’ll QUOTE Benny the Next Time I See Him!

“Like Purgatory purgatory?” “No. The one in Miami.”

You ganked the tooth fairy?

You can’t change the past, amigo

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #garth fitzgerald iv #spn 8x06 #southern comfort #supernatural season 8

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route22ny · 3 years

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BY MICHAEL J. MOONEY | PHOTOGRAPHS BY DAVE SHAFER

Staring at the front of the Royal Theater, I feel as though I’m looking backward through time. Taking in the cerulean marquee, the painted red fringe around the box office, the vertical ROYAL sign jutting into the afternoon sky—it’s easy to imagine why the denizens of Archer County flocked here for decades. The theater was a dark, cool respite from the blazing sun, a still escape from the whipping winds of the North Central Plains, a glimpse of entertainment from the outside world.

The theater—or what’s left of it anyway—peers out from the northeast corner of the town square. Without the storied theater, this could be any small town in Texas. Weathered barns and rusted oil pumps dot the landscape. Anchoring the town is the imposing three-story Romanesque Revival county courthouse, with stone archways and provincial peaks. There’s also a small café (Murn’s), a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it police station, a few antiques stores, and a single four-way stoplight swaying in the breeze like an apparition.

The Royal Theater as it is now and as it was then.

This isn’t just any small town in Texas, though. Archer City is the Texas small town. It’s the setting of both the novel and film versions of The Last Picture Show, a coming-of-age story rendered in black and white that earned eight Academy Award nominations, including Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay), Best Directing, and Best Picture. In Larry McMurtry’s book, published in 1966, the town is called Thalia. In the movie, directed by Peter Bogdanovich and released in 1971, it’s called Anarene—a name taken from an abandoned town 8 miles away. But rest assured, both places are Archer City: the looming courthouse, the blinking stoplight, and the Royal Theater, where so many of the most dramatic moments of The Last Picture Show take place.

The novel, which McMurtry called a “spiteful” book intended to “lance some of the poisons of small-town life,” received critical acclaim when it was published. But it was Bogdanovich’s film that truly introduced the entire world, in utterly unromanticized fashion, to the intense, sweeping sagas of everyday life in Archer City. The Last Picture Show turned this particular and peculiar town into art.

Both the novel and movie contain language that was considered lewd at the time. McMurtry’s own mother, Hazel, once said that after reading the first 100 pages she hid the book in the closet and called her son that night. “Larry, honey,” she said to him, he revealed in his 2002 travel memoir Paradise, “is this what we’re sending you to Rice for? Those awful words!”

The film, with its nudity and frank depiction of teenage sexuality—including Cybill Shepherd’s first and only topless scene—absolutely scandalized upright, moral Americans all over the country. Nowhere more so than in Archer City, where it was regarded at the time as a “dirty” movie.

Now, 50 years after the film’s release, the town’s past dalliances with Hollywood are somehow simultaneously scuttled and omnipresent. There’s no billboard at the city limit announcing the place’s cultural significance, no notation on the water tower. But there are echoes of the art formed here, about this place, along every street, around every corner. Some might even feel the spirit of McMurtry, who passed away in Archer City earlier this year.

Over the last five decades, Peter Bogdanovich, a New Yorker who operated in Los Angeles, has told the story of the movie’s origin many times. He’d seen the novel in a store, liked the title, saw what it was about, and immediately put the book back down. Then actor Sal Mineo, who’d starred alongside James Dean and Natalie Wood in Rebel Without a Cause, gave Bogdanovich a copy of the novel, saying he thought it would make a good film. Bogdanovich still didn’t read it, but gave it to his wife, production designer Polly Platt, and asked her to read it. When she inspired him to finally read it himself, he was intrigued by the challenge of conveying small-town life in Texas and eventually co-wrote the screenplay with McMurtry. Bogdanovich, Platt, and McMurtry took a long road trip scouting locations in Texas, but ultimately the director realized he wanted to shoot the movie in McMurtry’s hometown.

Set in the early 1950s, the story follows three teenagers—the co-captains of the football team and the so-called prettiest girl in school—through their senior year of high school, as they each struggle to make sense of adult concepts like love and sex and the fragility of human life. Sonny Crawford is the sensitive, thoughtful boy from a broken home. Duane Jackson is Sonny’s lovelorn best friend who escapes first into the oil fields and then the Korean War. Jacy Farrow is the coquettish rich girl who yearns wholeheartedly for something beyond the confines of her surroundings. The Last Picture Show also famously includes an ensemble of carefully rendered adults trying to cope with their own expired dreams and broken lives.

McMurtry repeated over the years that the characters he created weren’t based on any real-life individuals, but the people of Archer City always suspected otherwise. A man named Bobby Stubbs, who was photographed with McMurtry in their high school yearbook, believed he was the inspiration for Sonny. Stubbs had a troubled home life and worked nights like Sonny, and he drove the same kind of pickup truck. He was also once hit in the eye by the boyfriend of a girl he liked. “It kinda pretty closely followed me,” Stubbs used to say.

A woman named Ceil Cleveland Footlick was often asked if she was the inspiration for Jacy. She was “very good friends” (her words) with Stubbs and had been voted “Most Beautiful Girl” in her class. For years she brushed off the question, but in 1997 she published a memoir with the title Whatever Happened to Jacy Farrow?

Because of the book’s reputation, getting actors to audition was a challenge. Randy Quaid was cast as Lester, an awkward, sleazy suitor of Jacy’s. He’d only read the parts of the script that involved his character, which mostly centered on Lester taking Jacy to a naked swimming party. “I just thought it was going to be like this B-movie, teenage, soft-porn movie,” Quaid would later say. “Something you’d see at the drive-in.”

None of the young stars had much experience in film. Timothy Bottoms, who’d only been in one movie before, was cast to play Sonny. Jeff Bridges, cast as Duane, had been a professional actor nearly all his life, but at 21 years old, this would be his first major film role. And Bogdanovich cast Shepherd as Jacy after seeing her face on the cover of Glamour magazine.

Most of the adults in the movie were played by established Hollywood actors, including Cloris Leachman, Ellen Burstyn, and Eileen Brennan. For the role of Sam the Lion, the wisdom-dispensing owner of the town’s pool hall, Bogdanovich cast Ben Johnson, the champion-rodeo-cowboy-turned-stuntman-turned-Western-movie-icon. At first Johnson turned down the part on account of the foul language, but Bogdanovich called in a favor from his director friend John Ford, who convinced Johnson to do it.

Almost as soon as filming started, real life began imitating the art being created. While making a movie about illicit sex and barely veiled scandal, the set was awash in illicit sex and barely veiled scandal. The actors spent a lot of time drinking and smoking together in their hotel rooms 30 minutes north in Wichita Falls, and that led to drama. Bottoms fell in love with Shepherd. Bogdanovich started an affair with Shepherd, dissolving his own marriage while his wife, Platt, continued to work on the movie. (Most mornings Platt styled Shepherd’s hair.) “It was quite a soap opera,” Burstyn said in the documentary Picture This: The Times of Peter Bogdanovich in Archer City, Texas.

This was everything the locals had feared: all the immoral luridness of Hollywood, right here in a part of Texas not so comfortable with unwholesomeness that didn’t stay behind closed doors.

Outside of Archer City, it was a different story. The movie received great reviews from coast to coast. Johnson won the Oscar for Actor in a Supporting Role and Leachman won for Actress in a Supporting Role. The film is still beloved today and maintains a spot in the coveted National Film Registry.

But at the time of its release, most of the locals disapproved. Strongly. The Los Angeles Times ran a story about it with the headline “Movie Riles Town It Depicts.” McMurtry, who was involved in Bogdanovich’s vision, eventually got so annoyed by the vicious gossip in town that he sent a letter to the editor of the Archer City newspaper, challenging anyone in town to a public debate.

His offer went unrequited.

Archer City’s population is 1,848, only a couple hundred larger than it was when McMurtry grew up there in the ’30s and ’40s. The town is the seat of Archer County, created in 1858 by the Texas State Legislature and named after Branch Tanner Archer, former secretary of war of the Republic of Texas. Ranching and oil have long been the predominant industries—by late 1926, there were more than 400 oil wells within 13 miles of Archer City—but many people are increasingly attracted to the town for its proximity to prime hunting.

Many of the locations where The Last Picture Show was filmed are gone now. Where Sam’s dusty pool hall once stood, with its door flapping in the wind, there’s nothing but an empty dirt lot. The Rig-Wam Drive Inn, the burger joint where Jacy dangled french fries over Duane’s head as if he was a trained seal, is just a plot of asphalt and patchy grass. The West-Tex Theater in the neighboring town of Olney, used for the interior movie theater scenes, was torn down in the mid-’80s. Today it’s a small, quiet park with a gazebo.

Some places are still here, but different. The restaurant where Brennan’s character worked turned into Booked Up No. 4, one of four bookstores McMurtry set up around the town square before shuttering all but one in 2012. The high school has some of the same old features, though it’s been updated and decorated with a handful of granite statues marking state titles the school has won through the years.

Much of the town looks and acts remarkably like it did when The Last Picture Show was made. Boys about the age of Duane and Sonny still speed through town in pickup trucks. Men the age of Sam the Lion still stop them to talk about football. The dance hall at the American Legion, where Jacy and Duane twirled around the room and Sonny ran into his estranged father, looks like it could host the same event today. On a recent evening, four or five locals were perched on barstools, sipping cold beers, listening to songs on the jukebox. They got rid of the old Wurlitzer years ago, but the updated digital version there now still plays all the Hank Williams Sr. songs from the movie.

In time, feelings in Archer City softened a bit. Mostly, the people here don’t talk much about the movie, or about McMurtry, the town’s most famous son. You can spend all morning at Murn’s Café and all night at the American Legion, the only bar in town, and never hear The Last Picture Show mentioned once. It’s not the source of tension it once was.

The public change of heart was most apparent in 1989, nearly 20 years after The Last Picture Show was filmed, when Bogdanovich returned to Archer City to shoot the sequel, Texasville, based on a book of the same name by McMurtry. This time the townspeople lined up to participate as extras. People came from miles away to sell concessions or to take photos or just get a glimpse of the nearly $20 million production.

“The bad taste that the movie left for some folks, that’s gone now,” then-high school principal Nat Lunn told the Austin American-Statesman at the time. “Especially with money being short in town, they’re ready for another dose of Hollywood.”

By the late 1980s, the three leads in the first film—Bottoms, Bridges, and Shepherd—had all become stars. While the entire budget for the first movie was around $1.3 million, Shepherd alone was paid $1.5 million to reprise her role. Bridges was reportedly paid $1.75 million. Bottoms, who’d complained publicly about Bogdanovich and said he didn’t like any of his co-stars, would only agree to return if he was given an additional $100,000 to fund the Picture This documentary.

In the two decades since the first movie, Bogdanovich’s career had soared and crashed. He and Shepherd had broken up; he went on to have multiple relationships, and she had two divorces. Bottoms was also divorced and remarried, but on the set he confessed the crush he’d had on Shepherd. Platt returned, too, and brought the 21-year-old daughter she and Bogdanovich shared. It became a grand, twisted Hollywood reunion, right there on the streets of Archer City.

Drawn by the potential spectacle of what was by then some sort of love-octagon, media outlets from across the country sent reporters to town. There were long feature stories in both Entertainment Weekly and the Los Angeles Times. By all accounts, though, the entire production served as a therapeutic experience, healing the wounds of the past. At one press conference, the often-sullen Bottoms hugged Bogdanovich. Behind-the-scenes footage caught Shepherd hugging Bottoms. Residents of Archer County took photos of themselves on the set.

But when the movie was released, it tanked. It received middling reviews, earned back only a fraction of its budget, and even today it’s not easy to find on any of the major streaming services.

A lot of people associated with The Last Picture Show are dead now. Stubbs, who claimed to be the basis for Sonny, died in 1992. Johnson in 1996. Sam Bottoms, the real-life younger brother of Timothy Bottoms who played the mute boy Billy, died in 2008. Platt, the producer and production designer who somehow never pulled Shepherd’s hair, died in 2011. Then Brennan in 2013.

In January of this year, Footlick, the woman who wrote about being the real Jacy Farrow, died in North Carolina. Leachman died almost two weeks later. And on March 25, McMurtry, the writer who created all this beautiful trouble, died at the age of 84.

A few days after his death, nobody answered the doorbell at his house in Archer City, a majestic, three-story mansion just down the road from the high school. Looking through the front window, everything seemed to me to be just the way he left it, from the table made from a giant dinosaur fossil to the towering shelves of books in every room. McMurtry bought this place, the biggest home in town, after he won the Pulitzer Prize for Lonesome Dove. He’d wake up early in the morning, type for an hour and a half or so at his long oak table, then go to the bookstore to price antiquarian volumes. Most of the locals would leave him alone.

On the house’s front porch, a single rocking chair was situated to look out over the front yard into the surrounding neighborhood. Someone sitting there could see the comings and goings of a lot of people. As the early-evening wind moved through, the chair began to rock ever so gently.

These days, I sense the people of Archer City think differently of The Last Picture Show. It’s a part of the town’s story, just like the cattle industry and state titles. The movie is even mentioned on the town’s website, though it’s certainly not prominent.

There’s also a tiny park just off the square with a fiberglass horse covered in brands from local ranches and a display that chronicles a bit of the town’s history. The welded metal wall has separate panels for the town’s founding, the first successful oil well drilled here, and the giant fire that swept through in 1925. There’s also a panel explaining how the town was the filming location for The Last Picture Show and Texasville. Bogdanovich’s last name is misspelled.

A couple hundred feet away is the Royal Theater. Most of the building is a burned-out hull, popular for weddings, photo shoots, and occasional performances. The front of the building has been restored, though. It looks just like it did in the movie, the image that begins and ends the film. It’s haunting and beautiful, weathered and damaged—but still here, still standing, still looking at that single blinking light swaying in the wind.

***

The Last Picture Show wasn’t the first movie based on a novel by Larry McMurtry, and it certainly wasn’t the last. You might besurprised by just how many films and TV shows have been made from his novels. Here are a few:

Hud, 1963 (based on Horseman, Pass By) The Last Picture Show, 1971 Lovin’ Molly, 1974 (based on Leaving Cheyenne) Terms of Endearment, 1983 Lonesome Dove, 1989 Texasville, 1990 The Evening Star, 1996

https://texashighways.com/culture/how-the-last-picture-show-changed-the-worlds-view-of-small-town-texas/

#archer city texas #larry mcmurtry #peter bogdanovich #the last picture show

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 3 years

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And now I’ve watched episode 3 of Walker because of reasons. (You guys asked, that’s reasons.) #2

If you guys haven’t seen part 1, go see it immediately. Because of reasons. This time, reasons is Slutty Glitter Cowboy Stripper. No, it’s not a joke.

Yeah, I’m not sure what’s happening either.

I can’t believe they’re airing cowboy strippers in Supernatural’s air slot and Dean Winchester isn’t there. I think this is why they had to kill Dean, because otherwise he would have ripped through the CW’s show layout and appeared in Walker sponteneously, instantly adopting Walker’s entire family and friends as his own and single-handedly implementing the depolicement of the state of Texas, with Castiel rolling his eyes at him in the background while he murders ICE agents at the US-Mexican border.

*slides the CW a twenty euro bill* so I have an idea for season 2 of Walker

Anyway, there’s this lady Walker and Ramirez are doing a stakeout on, a woman called Torreto who is presumably part of some criminal organization since they’re doing a stakeout on her, and who’s bisexual given she was being entertained by a lady and a guy at a strip club. Which is like, fine, not problematic at all, alright.

So the stripper straddles her and is like ~wanna come with me in the back, and she’s like ~maybe another time, and he’s like ~torreto i saw cops outside you probably wanna come to the back with me, and she’s like ~mmm yeah that sounds like a good idea. We were rooting for you, slutty glitter cowboy stripper! We were all rooting for you! Or not.

Meanwhile, Walker has horrible car manners.

Also, he asks her how her parents were to her growing up, which is a question you normally ask to people you’re not close to when you want to do some small talk. For some reason she brings up a friend she had some ~crazy teen years~ with, called Garrison, which doesn’t make me think of angels in Supernatural, no, I am a normal person.

But then people start coming out of the strip club, but not Torreto. So they go in.

Torreto is not there, so Walker just stops the first person he sees and he’s literally like ~excuse me, do you know if there’s someone in the back. The visual is hilarious

“Excuse me, sir, have you seen my brother from another show, I suspect he might be here”

Give me a spinoff about this strip club.

Anyway, the guys answers, “No, why, you two interested?” to which they immediately answer “no!” at the same time, and share a look which makes me think we’re supposed to be like ~~ooh, talking in unison moment! or something...?

Meanwhile their truck gets stolen, and Walker yells that his bobblehead is in there. Cue disgruntled Jared face.

Oh man. We are at the title card. It’s less than 6 minutes. This will never end.

It was night, now it’s day, and Stella and August are walking around Austin. He’s mimicking David Attenborough, describing the teenagers around them as though he was doing a documentary about animals.

Two girls approach them, bringing up a party that’s taking place tomorrow. She says it’s not the best idea with her court date approaching. The girls are like, your dad can figure something out, he’s an elite ranger or something and also owes you for disappearing for a year. She’s like, he’s being kind of cool, I don’t want to ruin this, and the girls “call BS” because this is like “the best party of the year”.

Ruby, the girl August has been hanging out with, appears and August goes from “nah the party is not my thing” to “I’ll totally be there” in like 0.02 seconds.

I cannot overstate how much I am not interested in high schooler drama.

Meanwhile, at the Walker Seniors’ place, Walker’s parents are preparing the table for a family dinner. From their banter we can infer someone’s who ~is like family although he isn’t “blood”~ is coming for dinner and Grandpa Walker doesn’t like him at all and actually expects the guy to steal their china and bourbon. “It’s been years, could you please give him a chance?” Grandma Walker says, and he accepts, although she grabs the fancy bourbon from behind his back.

Meanwhile, at the police station, all the cops are having a briefing about Torreto, the woman at the strip club. She apparently steals weapons all over Texas and sells them over the border at triple the cost. Remember that Torreto escaped from Walker and Ramirez because she stole their truck while they were inside the strip club. Ramirez is worried she’ll already become the laughingstock of the precinct.

Uh. James plays security camera footage from outside the strip club. Walker and Ramirez’ truck was stolen by Torreto and the cowboy stripper himself.

Obviously the other cops laugh when Ramirez admits it was her truck.

James tells them to find Torreto, find the truck, and find out who the naked cowboy is.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Then Walker drives home, and as soon as he gets out of his car, you know how in the Supernatural pilot Dean gets into Sam’s apartment and wrestles him before revealing it’s him to ~test if his fighting skills are rusty and laughs when Sam realizes it’s him? Alright, now think intensely and guess how Walker’s like-a-brother best friend is introduced. Think intensely! It’s really difficult to guess!

Something something about violence and male intimacy except this is too ridiculous to, you know, write something serious about it.

“Oh, man!” the guy laughs, lying on the ground where Walker threw him. “The look on your face!”

“You son of a-”

“Oh, c’mon man, don’t talk bad of a mother I never knew.”

I’m facepalming soooo hard. This is the first thing we learn about him (well, after the fact that he definitely stole something from the Walkers’ house in the past), that he never knew his mother!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

GUYS

I AM SO SORRY

I am faceblind I didn’t realize

THE GUY IS THE STRIPPER

I REPEAT

THE “DEAN BUT IN JARED PADALECKI’S MIND” CHARACTER IS THE SLUTTY GLITTER COWBOY STRIPPER

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

I SWEAR MY HANDS ARE COLD AND CLAMMY

I AM EXPERIENCING EMOTIONS NO WORDS EXIST IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE TO DESCRIBE

Oh my god guys. I am so sorry.

“You did your touchdown victory dance before you stole my partner’s truck!” Walker exclaims. “I should arrest you right here and right now!”

The guy acts like he has no idea what Walker is talking about, and says he’s in town to see his best pal.

Walker keeps accusing him, but then his mother appears, super thrilled to see him, and Walker lets is go.

They’re at dinner (NotDean brought wagyu steaks, which obviously means he does crime for a living) and Walker’s mother tells him to say grace, which he does in a semi-serious, semi-mocking way. Obviously NotDean does not believe in god, but he’s grateful for the people around him.

Stella calls him uncle, in case you missed that this is supposed to be a friend whom Walker loves likeabrother.

He talks about jobs he did here and there, and Walker and his brother tease him asking if he’s been to some prisons around the country. Stella doesn’t get the joke and NotDean explains it to her, adding, “now, from what I hear, I’m not the only outlaw in this family”. Grandpa Walker leaves the room.

NotDean asks Stella if she’s going to the bonfire (the party they were talking about earlier) and tells her that her mother started the thing when they were young. She didn’t know that. This is supposed to be a Meaningful moment.

Meanwhile the stolen truck is found... at Walker’s ranch. Gasp! What a shocking turn of events.

NotDean gives Stella advice on how to act in court to get on the judge’s good graces, “which means acting”. “Please don’t get legal advice from a criminal” walker’s brother Liam says. Is the gay brother also a NotDean of sorts, to be fair? Well, CriminalNotDean tells her to dress her best and cry. ActualbrotherNotDean tells her to use the correct legal arguments. Walker just stops them, quoting something Ramirez said earlier in the episode, “nobody benefits from the easy route”. Stella is like, what does that mean, which, mood, but Grandma Walker interrupts bringing in a plate of different hot chilis. Apparently they have a tradition of a competition. Which we don’t even see. Boo.

Ramirez finds the truck... right outside the Walkers’ house. Grandpa Walker, who’d gone outside, points a rifle to her and she explains what she’s doing there. They introduce themselves and she is like, sir why is the man who stole my truck inside your house? “Wife invited him to dinner.”

She’s like, I need to arrest him. But he’s like, I bet there’s not enough evidence to arrest him, or my son would have done it. Join me for steak and burbon in the bunkhouse! As one does. So they have wagyu and bourbon together, and she asks him what’s the guy’s story.

So NotDean and Walker grew up together, NotDean had a rough life, “my wife has a soft spot for strays, she can’t give up on him”. But Grandpa Walker doesn’t feel the same. He tells her that she cannot arrest him tonight, but it’s only a matter of time before the guy gives her enough rope. He adds that Walker has a blind spot for faces from the past, and needs someone to fix that.

Meanwhile dinner’s over and NotDean calls a uber. He and Walker arrange to meet the next day and hang out like old times. Eventually, Walker tells him that if he is involved in this case, he will have to take him down. “Theoretically, if you catch me.” They do a manly hug with manly pats, and the guy leaves. “Theoretically, go to hell,” Walker says after he’s left.

The next day, NotDean brings Walker to a storage in the middle of nowhere... full of cursed objects, no wait, wrong show. What’s inside the storage is the red Mustang. Walker is shocked that he hasn’t lost it in some bet - which apparently is how he got the car from Walker in the first place. Now NotDean says that, after everything Walker’s been through, he deserves a chance to win it back.

Glowy flashback of Walker and his wife in the car, right after the scene in the beginning of the episode. They bet it during poker night, decision of Emily, because Walker is “starting to get attached to her”. Emily teases him for calling the car a she, and Walker decides to call the car Stella.

They gave their daughter the name of a car they lost at poker.

Oh. She tells him she’s pregnant.

So, apparently, they had their first daughter when they were broke, to the point they had to try and get money at poker for a bigger place and baby things. That’s... kind of irresponsible.

Meamwhile, Ramirez goes to James to tell him about the thing, but James already figured NotDean was involved, because apparently stealing things and returning them is just something he does. “Why are you so calm about this?” she asks. He says because they cannot pin anything on him. Questioning him could scare the big crime lady. So he tells her to just keep an eye on him. “Walker, Torreto or Hoyt [NotDean]” she asks. “Yes” he answers.

Blah blah. I apologize, I’m being too detailed. I’m just bored by this. Ah, a butcher’s truck was stolen right after the strip club thing, guess where NotDean got the wagyu steaks.

Walker and NotDean go to the bar with the bartender who’s their friend, and NotDean flirts with her. They start playing poker, when Ramirez arrives, and has some banter with NotDean and spills some glitter on him that she found in the truck. He buys her a drink and she arrests him for trying to bribe a police officer. Walker is shocked.

At the precinct, he says they cannot prove he’s working with big crime lady. But she brings up he stole the wagyu steaks.

She calls him out for trying to be everyone’s friend even if they do something wrong, also with Stella.

She says she can hold NotDean for 24 hours, long enough to figure out the big crime lady’s plans. Common trope in cop shows. Arrest someone without proof, you have to release them after 24 hours, but the cop finds proof and bam, forgiven for arresting someone without proof.

I know you’re bored, I’m bored too.

Actually, nope, it goes differently and kind of worse. In the interrogation room, Ramirez offers NotDean a deal: he tells her where the big crime lady’s weapon deal is happening, and walks free. He points the location on a map and he compliments her. Walker is watching from the cameras and is shook.

Meanwhile the bonfire is happening, and Stella is there with her girl friends. So is August, breakdancing to impress girls. We don’t care.

Meanwhile, a lot of cops in serious cop gear surround the location NotDean pointed at. Nobody’s there, though.

What is there, is the red Mustang with the creepy bobblehead in it and a letter from NotDean that says he gives him the car back because it was always his wife’s.

Walker figures out where the deal is actually happening - the storage where the red Mustang was before.

Meanwhile, at the bonfire, August is drunk on booze he stole from Grandpa Walker and brought to the party. He asks Stella if she’s trying to drive their father away, breaking the law and all, he asks if she wants him to leave again. Then he throws up. She calls Walker but he obviously doesn’t answer. So she calls her uncle, who’s doing shopping with his partner or something. They’re buying cake? Doing cake testing for their wedding? Maybe.

Meanwhile, NotDean calls Grandma Walker to tell her he cannot go mushroom hunting with her tomorrow but needs to leave town, and he’s sorry to let her down again. She tells him that just because his family’s bad, doesn’t mean he is too. “You saved my boy, and I’ll never forget that” she says. Oooh, that’s so intriguing!, nobody says. They share a cute moment and then he hangs up, while the weapon deal goes down around him.

Uncle Liam and his partner pick up the kids, and Stella asks him if he’ll be in court with her tomorrow. He says he can’t, because it’s her father’s decision to make.

August turns up music and they all sing in the car. It’s funny how everyone’s got better chemistry with everyone else except with Walker. I know it’s, like, on purpose for plot reasons, but still, Walker’s interactions with everyone feel so stilted compared to anyone else. And it’s not the other characters are that compelling.

The police arrives at the location of the weapon deal, and NotDean gets arrested trying to steal the truck again. Ramirez gives a speech how that’s hard but it’s the right thing to do. Walker makes a comment about tough love, implying Stella needs to get that too.

The next day, they leave for Stella’s court thing on the red Mustang. It took Walker three episodes, but now they also have a cool classic car to show off! Yay! *eyeroll*

Meanwhile, Grandma Walker and Grandpa Walker have a conversation about their failing marriage or something.

Ramirez goes to the bar to apologize to the bartender for arresting NotDean. They have a drink together and if lesbians were watching this they’d start shipping them, but no lesbians are watching this. They’re wiser than me.

Stella got like a gazillion hours of community service and her license suspended. She’s upset, but since she has her license for one more day he teaches her how to drive the Mustang.

Wait. Americans don’t learn to drive normal cars when they get their license?? They only learn to drive cars with automatic gear?? What the hell??

They drive while August runs after the car to get over his hangover or something.

Would be a cute moment if the entire thing wasn’t so cheesy and weird.

Well. We know NotDean is a recurring role so we’ll see more of him. (Well, I’m not sure I will be there to watch, because this is boring af.)

This episode used all its interest coins in the strip club scene and then became dreadfully boring. I don’t even have some witty line to close this post.

This was a rollercoaster that went my brain go through a blender in the first six minutes or so and then killed the remaining braincells through boredom.

That’s it guys. What can I say. This is the CW’s Walker. Yee.

#marghe watches walker for some darned reason #cw's jared: legit texan

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the-coda-project · 3 years

Text

The Coda Project | 1.02 - Inherit the Flames

After reuniting Tommy Collins with his family, Dean and Sam stop for the night in a town called Rifle.

They’re about two hours out of Blackwater Ridge, at a dumpy motel on the edge of a town called Rifle, and Dean’s been staring at the tree-print wallpaper for so long that he’s started detecting patterns in the branches.

A cheap plug-in air freshener in the bathroom has the whole place reeking of artificial pine. Between that and the walls, Dean’s starting to feel as though the wilderness they just barely managed to escape from has followed them here. Hell, maybe they didn’t escape. Maybe he’s still strung up in the mine; maybe the wendigo is still tossing him around like a ragdoll, scrambling his brains just enough that he’s dreaming of a motel that doesn’t exist.

Outside, an eighteen-wheeler passes on the I-70, close enough to make the windows rattle. Dean shifts in his bed as if a different position is going to be enough to distract him from how badly his ribs ache. His scratched-up neck feels raw as road rash.

No matter how hard he tries, sleep still feels so far out of the realm of possibility that he starts wondering how long he should lie here before he can cut his losses and call it.

But then Sam pipes up—“Hey, can I ask you something?”—from across the room, not bothering to check first if Dean’s awake, and immediately he wants to just keep feigning sleep until morning. He might have sought out his brother’s company only a couple of weeks ago, but right now, with the memory of Sam’s dismissive attitude toward helping the Collins family fresh in his mind, he doesn’t feel much like talking to him.

“Dean.”

He presses his eyes shut, ignoring the part of himself that’s berating him for being childish. Whether he can get to sleep or not, he’s too goddamn exhausted to talk about anything that isn’t life or death.

If he thought there was even a chance that his brother was angling to talk about Jessica, he’d be sitting up and listening in a heartbeat. But his tone is inquisitive, not hesitant, and Sam’s been so closed-lipped about his grief that Dean only knows how much her death is affecting him because of how loud and frequent his nightmares have been.

“Dean,” Sam says again, slightly louder. “I know you’re awake.”

With a huff, Dean tilts his head to squint at him across the gap between their lumpy mattresses. He grimaces as the motion pulls at the claw marks on his neck. He’ll be lucky if they don’t scar, but maybe it’d be better if they do. Maybe it’d help if he could see something visibly fucked up when he looks in the mirror. Maybe that would make it easier to explain away the revulsion he feels when he meets his own eyes.

“Dude, can it wait until after I get a solid four hours?”

Bullheaded as ever, Sam ignores the question, sitting up and tucking his shaggy hair back behind his ears. He looks twelve years old. Dean figures he always will, in some ways.

“Did something happen with Dad? Before he took off, I mean.”

“Like what?”

He’s not sure why he bothers asking Sam to clarify.

Maybe it’s just to buy himself some time; to give himself a second to come up with some version of the truth that doesn’t amount to Dad’s an overbearing, pigheaded prick, just like you’ve always said, and if I didn’t think he was in trouble right now I’d be glad to be rid of him for at least another month.

Even thinking it makes him guilty. Like he’s a bad son for being so angry with the guy. But he’s gotta believe that his actions are the important part here; proof that no matter how much he hates his dad sometimes, he still loves him enough to want to keep this family as connected as he can.

Still, a part of him is wondering if it’s really worth it anymore to keep up the act. If his clinging to John and clinging to Sam is just making things worse for all of them. Making John think he’ll put up with whatever he throws at him. Making Sam think he doesn’t care enough to take his side against John when he’s being unreasonable.

A part of him wonders—but it’s not a big enough part to win. The thought that something might have happened to him keeps him from letting the bile spill.

Because if they can’t find him—or worse, if they do find him but they’re too late—Dean doesn’t want Sam to have more reasons to be angry with a dead man than he’s already got.

It’s not as though Dean’s not used to keeping this shit locked down, anyway. There’ve been other disagreements, other fights, other circumstances over the years that he knows weren’t even close to being fair on him, but that’s just his life. It sucks, but it’s how it’s always been. No use complaining about it if it’s never gonna change, and after living this way for twenty-two of his twenty-six years, he sees no reason to consider change a possibility.

In the grand scheme of things, this particular incident doesn’t even make the top five list of awful things John’s put him through. The honors there go to that time with the shtriga, abandoning him at Sonny’s and then uprooting him as soon as he let himself get comfortable, the hunt he sent him on as a seventeenth birthday “present”, the night he told Sam not to bother coming back if he left for school, and the simple act of raising his kids into this shit in the first place.

This one might make it into the top ten, though. He hasn’t decided yet.

“Well,” Sam says, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You said you hadn’t heard from him in… what, three weeks before you got that message? Seems weird that it was so long, is all. You were on a hunt, he was on a hunt… it’s just weird that you weren’t checking in more often.”

Dean rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. There’s a water stain on the popcorn tile overhead that almost looks like a cactus if he looks at it the right way.

Christ, he could use some tequila right now. Maybe he can find them a case further south while they wait for some sign of John to turn up. Someplace warmer than the mountains in Colorado. Someplace where he can roll into town, waste a ghost, and then knock back a few drinks on a motel patio without having to talk to anyone at all.

“I mean, you usually check in more than that, right?” Sam goes on, and Dean sighs. He lifts one hand to rub at his brow.

“Yeah, usually.”

“So… what happened?”

“Nothing you gotta worry about,” he says, and immediately knows it was a mistake. Sam zeroes in on what Dean didn’t say just as intently as anyone else would focus on what he did.

Maybe he should go to law school after all—he’s already got the artful-conversational-trap shit down.

“You had a fight.”

“Sam—”

“No, c’mon Dean. You asked me to help you find him. If you had a fight before he left, that seems like it might be relevant.”

“It’s not.”

“So why won’t you just tell me?”

“It was nothing,” he insists. “Dad isn’t exactly Mr Congeniality, Sam. We fight all the time.”

“No, me and Dad fight all the time. The two of you are usually on the same page.”

Dean suppresses a snort and rolls onto his side, his back to Sam now as he looks at the narrow strip of moonlight edging past the thin motel curtains.

“You know I’ll just ask Dad when we find him if you don’t—“

“Jesus, Sam. It was nothing. Just a stupid disagreement about the hunt we were on. You know how he can get.”

“What was the hunt?”

“A witch in Louisiana. We had different ideas about what was going on, but it’s done, the witch is dead, and it doesn’t matter anymore. Okay?”

“That’s all?”

It’s not all.

Thanks to a botched salt-and-burn in Kentucky the previous month, things had already been tense well before they checked into a motel in Souffran, Louisiana. It only got worse when they ran into a woman Dean knew on their second day in town.

She’d been a civilian, last he’d seen her. Said she was a hunter now.

John had been ready to leave as soon as he found out she was already looking into it, but Dean wasn’t so eager.

It wasn’t that he thought Marisa was helpless—far from it, in fact. She’d been teaching capoeira when Dean met her in Texas a few months back. Had the thing terrorizing her students been corporeal, he has no doubt that she never would have needed any help in kicking its ass. But she was inexperienced as a hunter. Green as they come.

Dean didn’t love the idea of her taking on whatever was killing kids in Souffran alone.

When he told John as much, his dad just gave him a sly look, as if he thought the only reason Dean cared was because he was looking to get into Marisa’s pants. Dean wasn’t, for the record. As he saw it, it was his fault that she’d decided to try hunting on for size in the first place. He figured he owed it to her to back her up while she was still so new.

At first, all they’d had to go on was two kids who’d gone missing and turned up dead a week later without any visible injuries beyond a circular burn in the center of their chests; a girl named Lucy Parker who’d disappeared without a trace from her grandmother’s backyard yesterday but was yet to be found; and half a dozen wildly inconsistent reports of strange lights being seen in the swamp running along the north edge of town.

John had been convinced that they were dealing with a fi follet—a kind of malevolent will-‘o-the-wisp known to enact vengeance and drain the blood of children. When Dean disagreed with him, explaining to Marisa that the whole thing felt witchy to him, and pointing out that neither of the kids who’d died had shown any signs of blood loss, John got pigheaded and petty.

He called Dean arrogant. Accused him of acting like John was an idiot ever since they left Kentucky. Spat, “You spend one day showing a civvie the ropes and now you’re an expert, huh? Well go ahead, kid. Handle it on your own.”

And then he bailed.

Left Dean and Marisa to track down a missing eight year old on their own, and made Dean feel about three inches tall when he did it.

It took them almost a full two days to track the thing responsible. A witch, like Dean had thought, who’d been draining the kids of their life force in a desperate, last-ditch effort to stave off some sickness that was eating away at him. But the spell he’d been using was unstable and ineffective, and he’d been haggard and jittery when they found him in a rusty little shack out in the middle of nowhere.

Lucy Parker was right there with him in the room, suspended in mid-air by some unknown force as pale, flickering light leached from the center of her chest and down into a copper bowl on the floor beneath her. Her eyes were wide and rolled back to the whites. Her mouth was open as if she were screaming.

Marisa shot the witch point blank, right between the eyes, and Dean had darted forward to catch Lucy before she could hit the ground. He’d spent the entire time terrified that they were going to get to her too late; that she’d turn up dead before they could figure out where she’d been taken or how to deal with the thing that had taken her.

When she landed in his arms, he’d almost been sick when he felt how cold she was. How limp.

But after a second, she gasped, and coughed, and then she was clinging to him. Shaking.

He couldn’t put her down. She wouldn’t let Marisa take her.

He’d been forced leave the shack while Marisa dealt with the witch’s body and destroyed all the evidence before some local could stumble upon it, and when she’d emerged gray-faced and bloody half an hour later, with the crackle of fire just audible over the steady croak of frogs in the nearby water, he’d known that Marisa wasn’t going on any more hunts.

Lucy still refused to let go of him once they got back to the car, so he’d let Marisa drive them back to town, sitting in the back seat with the kid clinging to his side and sobbing snot into his jacket. He hadn’t even minded. If he didn’t think it would scare her more, he might have let himself cry out of sheer relief at finding her.

Late that night--once Lucy was back with her grandmother, and Marisa was on her way back to San Antonio, and Souffran was far enough in the rearview that it was safe to stop for the night--Dean had called John. He didn’t pick up.

Just sent Dean’s call straight to voicemail, then texted him coordinates for a poltergeist case near Mobile, Alabama an hour later. A few days after that, more coordinates directed him to the voodoo hunt in New Orleans.

So yeah, a witch in Louisiana is not all. Not by a long shot. He doesn’t tell Sam that, though. What would be the point?

“Yeah, that’s all,” he lies, still staring at the gap in the curtains. Another truck rumbles past, air brakes hissing as it slows to take the town exit. It’s so loud that he’s not sure that he’d manage to sleep here even if he wasn’t a headcase. “C’mon, I gotta crash, man.”

For a minute, it seems like Sam’s gonna keep at it. Like he’ll needle at Dean until he spills everything out onto the pilled carpet between them. How scared he is. How angry. How resentful. All the ugliest feelings that seem to be pressing up his throat and onto the back of his tongue like bile.

But he doesn’t. Just sighs, sounding as tired as Dean feels, and says, “Yeah, okay. Night, Dean.”

Dean grunts in reply, and Sam starts snoring after a half hour. Another half hour after that, his nightmares begin. Low, helpless murmurs of Jessica’s name and high-pitched whines of terror that stick in Dean’s chest like buckshot.

With dry eyes and an ever-present lump in his throat, Dean pushes out of bed and heads for the bathroom, taking the laptop as he goes.

If he’s lucky, he’ll find them a hunt before Sam wakes up. He can get them back on the road as soon as the sun rises. Keep them focused on something that isn’t the complete lack of leads on John.

If he’s not, maybe staying up will wear him out enough to sleep tomorrow. He’ll take what he can get.

read again on ao3 | subscribe to series | about the series

#Supernatural Fic #cass writes fic #imogenbynight #the coda project #S01E02 #Wendigo #Episode Coda #2.5k words #gen #rated pg

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jadewritings · 3 years

Text

Fractured Mind

Pairing: Sam and Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k+

Warning(s): Angst, Fluff, Sadness, Mental Torture

Author’s Note: This may seemed rushed and i wont lie, it is lol. It’s been sitting in my drafts for a while but I don't wanna waste the idea so... it is what it is. This was forced too. Words forced to be written cause i so badly wanna get back into writing.

Summary: Everything was perfect, you got the guys, the kids, the white picket fence life. You were happy, until you weren’t.

“Mommy! Mommy! Look how high I’m going!” Your six year old son shouted at you from the swing. You smiled and sent a thumbs up his way.

“Make sure you be careful not to go too high, daddy.” You shouted at Dean who only laughed evilly.

You sighed and looked over to your left at Sam, who bounced your 2 year old daughter on his lap, making her giggle. It was contagious, making you both laugh.

“You two really make great fathers.” You told him, kissing his cheek lovingly.

“And you make a wonderful mother.” He smiled at you and pressed his lips to yours while one hand rested on your bump.

“Nah, I’m just a surrogate at this point. Mira and junior don’t even look my way anymore.” Sighing, you picked up your water and drank it.

“Y/N, tell me you don’t really believe that?” He asked.

“Sam, we’ve had two kids, working on our third and god knows how many more. They haven’t clung to me like they do you guys.” Mira blew a raspberry, and slapped her hands on Sam’s cheeks, effectively squishing them. “See?”

“Honey, they love you just as much as they do us. You carried them for nine months, you feed them, love them, hold them. They know you’re their mother.”

Mira turned her big y/e/c eyes toward you and squee’d in baby talk, stretching her arms out for you to hold her. You laughed, and being as hormonal as you can be for being five months pregnant, began to tear up.

You couldn’t help kissing all over her face and listening to her squeal and laugh. “You guys have no idea how much I love you.”

Sam turned your face to his and kissed you. Not just a peck, but a deep, full of love, passionate kiss.

“Whoa now, kids around.” Dean joked as he walked over to the table with junior. “Mommy! Did you see how high daddy pushed me!”

You sniffled and laughed, “You bet your butt I did! You were practically soaring through the sky bud!” Junior sat on your lap and drank his soda from McDonald’s.

Dean sat across from y’all, picking Mira from your lap and playing with her. Your heart swelled with love and pride, having two wonderful partners and two wonderful children. It was like nothing bad in the world could touch you, it was just you guys, happy and healthy.

Dean started to say something but when you looked at his mouth, no sound came out.

“What?” Dean repeated what he said but it sounded almost glitched.

“It’s... almost.. time.”

“Time? Time for what?” You looked over at Sam but it was as if Dean hadn’t said anything, he continued to eat his food.

“Guys, what’s going on?” The world started to lose its color, fading to black.

“No, no, no! Sam! Dean!”

It felt as if you were falling and your family was fading out of existence. When you opened your eyes, the room was dark and it reeked of death. Your shoulder ached and your body felt heavy. You looked around. There was no Dean, no Sam, no kids. They were gone.

You tried to struggle but the chains holding you up and the heaviness outweighed your will. You groaned, only just hearing the footsteps getting closer.

“Aw, somebody’s awake. Have a good dream?”

The man you saw when you looked up didn’t look human. His skin was pale, tribal tattoos covered every inch of his body. His eyes started to glow blue.

“Dream?” Your voice cracked from dehydration. You looked around, a needle stuck in your arm as you hung from chains connected to the ceiling. Then the flashes came. The happiness, the love, the pride, the feeling that nothing could go wrong. One big happy family. Tears threatened to overflow.

“It wasn’t real...”

“Oh honey, nothing that perfect could ever be real. Did you really think it was?”

Your face hardened, “You son of a bitch! I’m gonna kill you!” You struggled against the chains to charge forward but it was useless. Along with the dream, your strength was gone. The sight made the djinn laugh.

“Aaahh, I do love when they struggle. But, it’s time for you to sleep again and give me that sweet, sweet blood of yours.” He smiled and his eyes began to glow again, his tattoos seemingly moving down. You felt tired and went to sleep again.

“Mommy! Mommy! Look how high I’m going!”

3 DAYS EARLIER

“Dean, Y/N.” Sam called his brother, “Got a case.”

The case was in Houston Texas, almost a days worth drive. Sam had a theory as to what it was because they had seen their type before. This guy was leaving bodies in the wide open, blue handprints left on their stomachs. An easy giveaway, as Sam called it.

After setting up in the motel, Sam and Dean left you to your own devices while they went and talked to the relatives of one of the deceased. the case seemed like it was gonna be an easy kill and go home but when the brothers returned, they didn’t have any luck.

Dean sighed and fell to the bed. He smoothed a hand down his face, he seemed quite tired.

“Dean why don't you just get some sleep? You too, Sam. I can do some research for now.” you smiled at both of them.

Sam, who reached into the small fridge on the dresser behind you to grab a water, put his hand to your shoulder. “Thanks, Y/N. That would be appreciated.”

He gulped some water and flopped onto the other bed in the room. Both of the boys were out in minutes.

After a few hours you found that Djinns tend to live in ruins, usually – the bigger, the better. With that in mind, you looked up places like that and bingo bango, you had your target.

You started to open your mouth to wake up Sam and Dean but with the way Dean was snoring and Sam looking so comfortable under his covers, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. sleep was something they were long over due for. So, you grabbed your gun and knife and headed out, hot wiring a rusty old pickup truck in fear of Dean’s wrath if he saw you took Baby.

The only way to kill one was a silver blade dipped in lambs blood so you had to make a pit stop for that before reaching your destination.

It was pitch black outside, no doubt most people would be asleep. But nope, not you. Had to slice and dice before hitting that pillow oh so nice. You took a deep breath as you stood in front of a half burnt asylum. Best known because a patient who was getting abused here set it aflame. What better ruin to hide in?

“Better now than later, Y/N.” you surmised to yourself. If you could handle this on your own maybe Sam and Dean, the two big doofs would finally look your way. You feel in love with Dean first, the flirty of the two. You met him first on a ghost hunt. He almost stole it but you ended up working together on it.

The next time you saw him was with his brother, when they needed backup for a case. One you were willing to provide, anything to see Dean again. Then Sam came swooping in making you fall for him too. His intelligence blew you away. The way he cared for those around him and would do anything for anyone who needed it. You’d been stuck to them every since that case.

The Winchester brother got you, hook line and sinker. There was no way around it, your thoughts filled with them. But you couldn’t confess that to them. Why would they even like you like that. At least you thought so.

You quietly stepped into the asylum, checking each room as you went by.

Sam groaned as he turned onto his left side, slowly blinking his eyes awake. He noticed the light of his laptop still on. He sat up, wiping away any sleep left behind.

“Y/N?” he looked over to his right, the bed empty. Then he looked at Dean’s, so was his except his brother. He got up and walked to the bathroom to see if she was in there but the light was off. He started to panic internally.

Sam raced to the laptop to check what she had looked at. All of Y/N’s research was right there and even where she thought the Djinn was.

“Dean!” Sam grabbed his coat since he had fallen asleep in his shirt and jeans.

His brother jumped, “Huh- wha?”

“Y/N went after the Djinn by herself.” that snapped Dean awake.

“What?!” Sam tossed him his jacket and the keys, Dean slipping his gun in the back of his jeans and both of them rushing out to the impala.

The ride to the asylum was silent with tension in the air. Both brothers were worried of course, Dean angry at himself for not keeping an eye on her. She’d been with them for a while now. She was useful to them, not only that but they both came to care for her.

“She’ll be okay, Dean. She’s tough.” Sam cut through the tension.

Dean didn’t want to say much, his thoughts going a million miles in his head thinking if she was safe or even alive, so he opted for, “Yeah.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by his brother.

Sam pulled out his phone, bringing up Y/N’s contact. If she was in trouble, they had to get to her fast.

You’d been walking around for a little bit now, but still no sign of the Djinn. Maybe you’d gotten the place wrong? Maybe there was another ruin the monster preferred. But this one was just too perfect to pass up, it had to be this one.

You walked further down a corridor, the walls had soot all over them, parts of it burned down to the dry wall. You turned when you heard something move in the distance. Your eyes narrowed when you saw nothing there. You faced the way you were walking again only to see the Djinn right in front of you, smirking.

“Well, well, what do we have here.” You reacted immediately and jabbed the knife towards him, but he was quicker. He’d grabbed your wrist and twisted it so you’d drop your weapon. You groaned but that was the only thing you’d give him. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you in pain.

He sniffed up you neck and into your hair, making you flinch away. “You smell... delectable.” With his last word, you saw a faint glow behind you and his hand come up to cover your eyes. After that, you were out.

Dean and Sam had just arrived at the location you had saved on Sam’s computer. They both agreed it was definitely the place the Djinn would be. They got their guns and knives ready, putting the knife in their waistbands and keeping their guns glued to in front of them.

They entered the same way you had but one brother went left and the other went right, splitting up to hopefully find you quicker. The hallways smelled old and a scent of burnt wood still lingered in the air. However long it had been since the fire, the reminders of it were still there.

Dean couldn’t lie, the place had an eerie feel to it. He checked around every corner, in every room, and so far, no sign of you.

Sam did the same, checking carefully, making sure to stay quiet so he could have an advantage. He entered a larger room than the others he had passed. It almost looked like the nave of a church, benches lined up in rows with space in the middle to walk until you hit a few steps to climb. At the center of the steps, you hung from chains.

“Y/N!” Sam whispered trying to get your attention as he quickly made his way to you. You gave no response. You didn’t move at all and that worried Sam. He tapped your face a few times and held it up, whispering your name again. Nothing.

The doors flew open and Sam looked over from you. Dean’s body flew a few feet before he landed with a grunt.

“Dean!” Sam shouted to his brother. Dean grunted, “Heya, Sammy.” sarcastically. The Djinn walked in behind him.

“Is it Thanksgiving because it seems like I’m gonna have a big meal I’m thankful for.” Sam’s jaw clenched and Dean stood up from the ground.

“Get her out of here Sam, I got this.”

“Mommy! Mommy! Did you see how high I was going?” Junior shouted as he raced towards you. You smiled brightly, “Yes I did, Bug. Did you have fun?” he jumped up on your lap, nodding and breathing heavily. Dean walked up behind him and leaned down to give you a kiss. It was something you savored. You looked across the table at Sam who had your daughter in his hands, squealing at him as he attacked her face with kisses. But something in your gut told you this was too good to be true. You were kind of having Deja vu.

Then you heard it. Your name was being called.

“Sam?” you asked. The Sam across from you looked up and frowned.

“What’s the matter?” he questioned.

Again. You’re name. But this time, you definitely knew it didn’t come from him. Something wasn’t right, you felt it. This world, it wasn’t real. Flashes of memory made you realize, you were a hunter. Hunters didn’t get to live like this. They either died from a monster or by the end of a barrel. They didn’t get the white picket fence happiness.

You set Junior down on the ground, slowly getting up.

“Y/N? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Dean grabbed your arm, his face twisted with concern.

“This isn’t real. None of this is real.” you whispered.

“Not real? Baby, this is as real as it gets.” Dean answered back.

“No. No no no. I have to get out of here.” The despair and sadness you suddenly felt tore your heart to pieces. You wanted so bad for it to be real. To be with the two men you so dearly loved, to have a family with them. But you knew it wasn’t your reality.

You reached into your purse, grabbing the keys and taking off in the impala. Your heart raced, you didn’t really know where you were going. At this point you just wanted it all to end. So, you pushed harder on the gas pedal and crashed into a metal pole.

You gasped awake, heart struggling to clam. The feeling of the crash still lingering. You currently sat in the back of the impala, the familiar rumble helped to sooth you.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” You looked up and saw Dean smiling at you behind the wheel.

“What happened? Where’s the Djinn?” you asked. Sam turned so he could face you, a gentle smile crossing his features.

“He’s gone. You don’t have to worry about him.” You nodded and the car fell into a silence. Dean glanced back at you through the rearview mirror and you had a feeling you knew the question he was itching to ask.

“We were married.” you spoke, the boys turning their attention to you.

Sam looked at his brother before clearing his throat, “W-What?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, “We had kids and I was pregnant.” You laughed and sniffled, “We had a white picket fence life. Junior, was Dean and I’s son, Mira was Sam and I’s daughter. We loved each other- I... loved both of you. I still do.”

“Y/N-” Sam was speechless.

“No- I, please, Sam. Just... don’t. I know we can never have that. You and Dean probably wouldn’t even go for that, let alone have feelings for me.” The tears spilled onto your cheeks and once again, the car was silent.

After a minute, the impala slowed and pulled off to the side of the road. You sniffed and looked up, Dean turning around in his seat.

“You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say what I do and don’t feel because I know what I want. When Sam told me you’d gone off on your own, it scared the hell outta me. I didn’t know if we’d reach you in time or if I’d have to see you dead in some ruin. I know how I feel, Y/N, how we feel.” You followed his gaze to his brother. Sam smiled and nodded.

“We love you too, Y/N.”

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anathewierdo · 4 years

Text

Call of the Ocean Chapter 11: That’s a Dealbreaker

Pairing: CEO!Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Mermaid!Reader

Word count: 6925

Chapter summary: Dean and company are settling in their new lives in Matagorda, negotiating with Singer and looking for a place to settle down, but Dean? He just wants to know Y/N further.

Series summary: CEO of Winchester Auto Dean Winchester has had enough of the office life. With his father keeping him from what he wants to do, which is work on the plant floor, Dean decides to leave for a quiet life. In Matagorda, Texas, he finds something he never thought he would, a chance encounter with a mythical creature.

Call of the Ocean Masterlist

A/N: We’re in chapter 11 already! holy crap! This series is a collaboration with @flamencodiva . Text dividers were made by the awesome @talesmaniac89

Chapter 12 will be posted this Wednesday, September 23.

Dean couldn’t believe it. Hell, he thought he was still actually dreaming. She’s real. The girl that haunted his dreams was real. And without a tail, which was weird as he kept dreaming about a purple tail and the ocean. But she was beautiful, and he loved her quirkiness.

It took him longer than he’d care to admit to get himself together. He stared in the direction she went off for way too long, snapping out of it when another lady came up and literally snapped her fingers in front of him.

He somehow fumbled along, paying for the steaks and eventually getting into his car. His palms were sweaty, the only other time they were sweaty was when he was fixing the Impala hoping that he did it right. Reaching his house, he had almost forgotten the groceries before heading inside. He walked past Benny and Andrea making out on his couch and reached his kitchen. Placing the groceries on the counter, he rushed to the fridge and pulled out a beer.

“What’d you get for us, brother?”

Twisting off the bottle cap he chugged half of his beer. “Am I dead?”

Benny turned to look at him, tilting his head. “What?”

“I--” Dean ran a hand across his face. “For the past few nights, I’ve had this dream. And there is this girl… and… Benny, I think I met her at the market.” He placed his hands on the counter to steady himself. “I-- she-- she’s even more beautiful in person and… I wasn’t even sure she was real.”

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Benny chuckled as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Dean fell in love at first sight. You got it, bad brother.”

Dean scoffed. “No. No! I mean, what are the odds? That’s what I’m saying. I dream about this woman for days and– and all of a sudden she shows up in real life?”

“Could be the universe trying to help you after…” Benny trailed off not wanting to mention the she-hag who broke his best friend’s heart. “Did you get a name?”

He smiled softly, “Y/N.”

Benny barely contained his laughter on time, seeing the look on Dean’s face. He popped his head out of the kitchen, “Andy!” he called. “Get in here! Dean met someone!”

Andrea strolled into the kitchen, making her way to Benny draping her arms around his shoulders. “You are yanking my chain. He did not?”

“I swear,” Benny smiled. “Can’t even say her name without smiling.” He teased.

Dean felt the heat rushing up his face. “You’re seeing things.”

“Nope,” Benny popped the ‘p’. “You are smiling like the time you first heard Baby’s engine roar.”

“I can say her name without smiling!” Dean declared as he cleared his throat. “Y/N.” he smiled and shook his head. “Wait. Let me try again.” he closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “Y/N” he couldn’t help but smile, then cleared his throat, throwing on a straight face. “Wait, no– I got this.”

Benny took Andrea’s hand, the huge, stupid smile on their faces growing bigger with every failed attempt. “You see what I mean, hun!?”

“Shut up, you two!” Dean frowned at his friends. He could only imagine what torture he would be under if it was Sam.

“Dean,” Andrea smiled, “we’re not making fun of you. We’re happy for you! After what happened last time, you deserve to be happy. And this woman, whoever she is, is already doing that and you don’t even know her yet.”

“You have a point there.” he conceded. “I don’t know anything about her. God, what am I getting into? Far as I know she could be from the same cut as Cassie.”

Benny stepped in, trying to catch him before he spiraled in too deep. “Calm down, brother. You’re right, you don’t know her that well,” he placed a hand on each of Dean’s shoulders. “Which is why you need to get to know her. Take it slow. Baby steps, brother.”

“Baby steps,” he nodded. “Yeah. I can do baby steps.”

“Alright, you two. How about we cook that steak Dean brought? We have all day to tease him more with his new special lady.” she winked. “Wait until Castiel gets here.”

“Got that right, Cher,” Benny gave Andrea a chaste kiss. “I’m sure we can tell him all about Deanie’s little crush.”

Dean took that moment to grab the dish towel and toss it at his friend. The rest of the evening was spent with laughter and drinks. The steaks Dean had prepared were cooked to perfection along with the lobster that Benny had helped him poach. Andrea pitched in with a salad much to Dean’s disdain, but he was glad to have a batch of oven-baked fries as a backup. After dinner, Andrea offered to clean up since Dean and Benny shared the cooking. Dean showed Benny the best spot in the house that overlooked the ocean. His house had a small deck over the cliffs where the water would splash.

“This Bobby Singer we’re meetin’,” Benny leaned on the banister. He looked out into the ocean. The moon’s light giving enough glow to shimmer over the water. “Somethin’ I should know before we head there?”

“I noticed he had a run down garage inside his salvage yard,” Dean sat on one of the chairs he placed outside. “He knows his cars. And I think I impressed him when I was able to fix a run down GTO he had lying around.” Dean sat back and stared off into the horizon. “Old man is nice enough to let us use it. He’s also willing to help us out from time to time with his tow truck and bringing in customers.”

“Damn, he sure sounds like a nice man.” Benny smiled. “You really lucked out here, brother.”

“Yeah,” Dean couldn’t get Y/N out of his mind.

Benny’s hand slapping against his back shook him out of his thoughts. “Well,” his friend looked at the watch on his wrist. “Cas should be getting here soon. Do you wanna tell him or do I get the honors?”

“About what?” Dean coughed as he looked out at the starry sky.

Benny laughed. “About Singer, you doofus.” he took a swig to his beer. “And about Mystery Woman, of course. That’s the big fish right now.”

“We are not telling Cas about Y/N.” Dean couldn’t help but smile when her name left his lips.

“Why wouldn’t we? He’s gonna flip his marbles when he finds out you met someone.”

“Look, it’s the two of us in that meeting with Singer.” Dean sighed. “I don’t want to make … I don’t want me trying to move on a big deal. Besides,” Dean finished his beer. “We should head to bed. I’m sure Cas will be here in the morning and do not tell him anything other than our meeting with Singer.”

“Only if we can tell him after the meeting,” Benny cocked an eyebrow. “Brother, it’s Cas we’re talking here. He’d love to know that Deano’s got a crush. You know how the guy is; I bet he’ll get all happy like we did.”

“It’s not like the whole town is gonna find out about it, right?” he smiled. “After we meet with Singer and get the important part done, we tell him. Not a second sooner. You got me?”

“Always, brother.”

“Alright,” Dean stood from his seat. “I’m off to bed. Don’t stay up too late and keep the noise down, you animal.” Dean made his way inside and up to his room.

That night, he couldn’t help but replay his encounter in his dream. The only difference, he took her in his arms and kissed her. He could only imagine what her lips felt like. It wasn't until he felt an arm wrap around him that he moaned.

“Y/N,” He whispered.

“Oh Dean,” the voice whispered. “You’re so strong and handsome.”

Dean’s eyes flashed open as he turned to face the familiar blue eyes of Benny.

“What the fuck, man!” Dean pushed Benny off his bed, making the cajun man lad with a resounding ‘thud’ on the floor. “You’re an asshole!”

“I’m sorry, brother,” Benny laughed. “It was just too good of an opportunity not to do. Besides,” Benny got up from the floor. “Cas came in at around 4 am. So he’s sleeping on the couch.”

Dean let out a groan as he got up off the bed. Making his way to his bathroom, he washed his face and looked up in the mirror. He looked well rested, and the dreams he had… well, they were sweet, to say the least. Why he wanted to kiss her when he didn’t know anything about her was baffling. He hadn’t realized that he was taking too long when there was a loud bang on his door.

“Stop primping and let’s get breakfast before we meet Singer.” Benny’s voice called through the door.

Dean chuckled. “After what you just did I better get some bacon, Laffite!”

“Don’t worry,” Benny laughed. “I’ll make sure I let you have three whole pieces!”

Dean could hear Benny’s footsteps walk away before what his friend had said hit him.

“Three whole pieces?!” Dean pulled the door open faster than lightning and rushed down the hall. He didn’t care that he was in his boxers when he entered the kitchen. “Where’s my bacon?!”

“Not ready yet.” Andrea answered from the stove. “Give it a minute or two. And try not to wake Cas up, Dean.”

Dean walked up and kissed her cheek, “Thanks, Andy.” He made his way to his phone to see more missed calls from his Father. “Why can’t the jackass take the hint that I don’t want to talk to him?” he muttered to himself.

The phone was taken from his hands, and he looked up to meet Benny’s serious stare.

“Because if there’s something that everyone knows for sure, is that the Winchesters are stubborn as hell. It’ll take a while, but he’ll calm down,” Benny assured. “Eventually. Go put some pants on, would ya? Ya see, Andy and I have this ‘no pants, no service’ rule here.”

“It’s my kitchen, dude,” Dean whined.

“Ya still need to wear some pants, Dean!” Andy called from the kitchen. “Bacon will be ready by the time you come back if you start running!”

“Alright!” he nodded.

Breakfast went by quickly, with Dean happily munching on bacon and thanking his friends for everything they had done. Both shrugged it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal. He was left to clean up everything to let Andrea and Benny (specially Benny) get ready for what was yet to come for the day. Making sure he had everything in his messenger bag after cleaning the dishes. He smirked when Castiel finally awoke.

“Hello, Dean,” he grumbled.

“Well, sleeping beauty finally awakens,” Dean chuckled. “How was the drive?”

“It was fine,” Cas smiled. “Would have gotten here sooner if your dad hadn’t cornered me. He was really trying to get me to stay.”

He waved for Cas to make space for him on the couch, sitting beside him. “I see he failed.”

“Unfortunately he wasn’t very convincing,” He laughed. “Or should I say, not as convincing as you.”

Dean chuckled, “glad I was the better negotiator. “ Dean cleared his throat before turning towards Cas. “Benny and I have a meeting with the garage owner, Bobby Singer. So we’ll be gone for a bit. This will give you a chance to check out the house, pick a room and then check out the town.”

Cas tilted his head, squinting his eyes at Dean. “You don’t want me to come with you?”

“Of course I do, man. But you had a long ass trip and my father to top it off. You’ve been asleep for what, six hours? Get some rest, explore the house, hang out with Andy around town, I dunno. Treat yourself, man, ‘m not gonna give you another chance.”

“I guess I can see what all the fuss is about,” Cas rubbed the back of his neck. “Once the garage gets going I do hope to find something close by to live in. We can’t all live together forever. We aren’t in college anymore.” he laughed.

“Yeah, but those were fun times,” Dean leaned back as he waited for Benny.

“Not when I was the one who was naked and tied to the flagpole because we had a war with another frat.” Cas grumbled.

“Like I said,” he replied with a shit eating grin. “Fun times.”

“I’m going to use all your hot water for that.” his friend smiled sleepily as he stood up. “Good luck with the meeting, Dean. Call me if anything happens.”

“Yeah, we will,” Dean got up from the couch and made his way to the door. “Benny!” He yelled. “Stop making out with Andy like a couple horny teenagers and move your ass!”

“One second!”

“Fuckers,” Dean muttered, chuckling at his friends’ antics. He turned to Cas. “Food’s in the fridge. I’m gonna go get ready for this thing.”

Castiel nodded. Dean made his way back to his room, taking a quick shower and throwing on pants and a button-up. When he came back down, Cas was sitting at the kitchen table, munching away on some cereal with a plate of scrambled eggs by his left. He hollered at Benny once more, letting him know he had five minutes to get his ass moving. Benny came rushing down the stairs fixing the collar on his polo. Dean gave him a smile before they both made their way to the Impala and drove off to the salvage yard.

Parking the car, Dean grabbed the bag and turned to Benny, “Now, this guy was a tough nut to crack. So we need to be careful with how we say things.”

Benny looked around at the place, spotting the old cars, what he assumed would be the garage, and the old man that was sitting on the porch of the house next to it. He nodded. “Got it.”

Walking to his truck, Dean pulled out a bottle of Whiskey. With a smile he made his way towards Bobby with Benny following close behind.

“Looks like you made it back okay,” Bobby grumbled as he rocked in his rocking chair. “Who’s the blue-eyed brute you have there?”

“Benny Laffite, Sir,” Benny gave him a slight nod. “I’m a friend of Dean’s and a Mechanic.”

“Hmmmm,” Bobby hummed. “Are you as good as he is at fixing cars? You look kind of squishy.”

“Been working under hoods for as long as Dean here, Sir.” Benny commented. “As for my squishiness… My fiancée and I love food.”

“Can’t argue with love,” Bobby chuckled. With a grunt, he got up off the chair and motioned for the boys to follow him inside. “Just set up on the table there Dean, and we can all talk shop.”

Dean nodded. “Yes, sir.”

They extended across the table the papers they had brought along. The contract with a couple of copies of it, papers that would prove to Mr. Singer they were legit, and a few blueprints a friend of Dean had designed to remodel the place. Looking around though, Dean doubted that everything they had on the blueprints would get done. As old as it was, Bobby Singer’s garage was looking good, just a little bit old.

“Alright,” Bobby’s voice boomed from whatever room he had gone to, his footsteps announcing his return. “What do you have for me, boys?”

And so, negotiations began.

Dean (and later on, Benny) had to confess that Robert Singer is a thorough man. He had a question for every clause in the contract, as simple and short or complex and long as it was. He didn’t let himself be swooned by Dean’s charming smile or Benny’s friendly-but-somehow-businesslike tone. The man made it clear from the moment he had sat down on a chair across from them: “I’m not giving you this place so easily.”

Eventually, they went through every page of the contract, each and every question made by the older man answered by one or both of them, depending on the question or if one wanted to compliment the answer of the other.

An hour and a half had gone by when they got to the part of the renovations.

Dean made his best effort to explain that most of them would most likely not pull through.

“This place is in good shape, Mr. Singer,” he said. “It just needs a new paint job, windows, details. We’re not going to tear your business apart. We want to bring it back to its days of glory.”

“That’s a song I’ve heard before from other people like you two,” Bobby pointed out. “What makes you different?”

The retort had rendered both men silent.

Less than four hours ago, they had been ready to take on this meeting full force, close the deal. Easy. Piece of cake.

Bobby had made a point, though, Dean thought. What made him different from any other greedy business man that had seen this place, how well-located it is, how it could use a renewal (or a demolition, depending on the plan) and had made an offer?

What makes you think you’re enough?

“We’re probably not very different from them,” he ended up confessing. “A lot of mechanics can step up and tell you that they have spent their lives under the hood of a car, that they learned by the side of loved ones, or on a class, or were curious enough to do it.”

Bobby kept staring at him, his face unreadable.

“Like so many others, I like cars. I love them, Mr. Singer. Cars carry memories, stories, they carry a part of their owners in them… repairing them, restoring them, keeps whatever memory alive for a little bit longer.” he smiled softly at himself. “That’s what my Pops used to tell me. Rest assured, if you sell to us, you won’t lose anything. I won’t change anything on that building that you do not approve first. You’d be giving us the space to work, and we’d appreciate that.”

Mr. Singer nodded, his face still unreadable under Dean’s watchful eye. The old man turned to Benny.

“What about you?” he inquired.

Benny took a deep breath, smiling at Dean, then back at Mr. Singer.

“There’s not much for me to say, Mr. Singer,” he shrugged. “I love my job, and I like doing it right. And this right here, feels like we’re doing it right.”

“Like we mentioned earlier,” Dean intervened, “you still have a right to kick us out of here should you not tolerate us. We may own the building, but the land is still yours, Mr. Singer.”

“Anyone sane would tell you that that clause is a big mistake to put in there.” Bobby nodded.

“We know,” Dean agreed. “But it seemed fair. That way, you can still have some sort of hold over something I’m sure you hold dear to you.”

Mr. Singer nodded once more, took a look at the blueprints, and started to ask questions regarding them all over again, but seemed less detached about it this time. Genuine interest shining through his voice and expression now.

Time seemed to fly by after that. At around three o’clock in the afternoon, the men shook hands and were proud of what they accomplished. A copy of the contract and several notes of the blueprints left behind for him to look at all over again in case he thought he missed something. As they were walking towards the door, it burst open and the brown hair of Ellen whizzed by Dean and Benny as she made a beeline towards Bobby. Dean watched as a young man about his height, with brown hair held in a tight bun at the base of his neck and dark brown eyes walked in after her. He seemed nervous and embarrassed.

“Singer, I have a proposition for you,” Ellen bellowed. “I have a young man in need of a job and I know for a fact you still fiddle around with the cars and do some towing.”

“What’s your point Ellen,” Bobby drawled. “I was in the middle of a business meeting.”

“I know you’re going to sign the contract anyways so shush,” Ellen slapped her hand on his table before using her other hand to motion for Thasman to step up. “Now this here is Thasman. I want you to teach him what you know about cars, that includes driving.”

Dean tilted his head at the name. He had heard it before. He let his mind wander back to when he met Y/N and his eyes widened. This was Y/N’s friend. This Thasman guy knew Y/N. He was about to talk to the man when Benny grabbed at his arm.

“We’ll see ourselves out Mr. Singer,” Benny turned to the woman who Bobby called Ellen and smiled, “Ma’am, have a nice day.”

Dean and Benny thanked Bobby for sparing time to meet them, the old man waved them off as Ellen began talking again. Benny pulled Dean out of the house and they both made their way towards Baby. As they entered the car, Benny found that Dean was eerily quiet.

At the first red light, Benny broke the silence.

“You think he will sign?” he mumbled his question.

Dean shook his head, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “I don’t know, Ben… whatever happens, I think we did good back there." Dean gave a soft chuckle, “But if Ellen has anything to say about it, looks like he will sign.”

His friend nodded, chuckling as he did. “Yeah, we did… I liked that old man, you know? And Ellen, what is she like? I mean that woman was a firecracker.”

Dean chuckled, “knew you would like the old man.” he commented. “I like him too.” Dean turned the car down the road back towards his house. “Ellen is special, she’s my neighbor and she’s been teaching me how to cook things other than burgers and fries.” Dean leaned back in his seat. “The guy that was with her, she said his name was Thasman, right?”

“Yeah, think so… Why?”

“Just checking…” he shrugged. “Isn’t it weird that guy doesn’t know how to drive?”

Benny nodded. “‘S what I was thinking. Bet he hasn’t even seen under a hood in his life.”

“Most likely,” Dean smiled. “At least he’ll start learning now, huh? We could show him a thing or two regarding cars.”

“If Singer signs, yeah, probably.” Benny turned to Dean. “You thinking about hiring him as an apprentice? I mean, what do we know about the guy?”

“I said nothing about hiring him,” he answered. “Bobby will probably take care of him personally for all we know. I’m just saying, nothing bad could happen if we showed him a thing or two.”

Silence fell between them, and after a few seconds, Dean couldn’t take it anymore, turning around to see his friend. Benny had a shit eating grin on his face, looking at him like he just solved the world’s biggest mystery.

Benny chuckled, “he knows her, doesn’t he?”

“Oh, shut up,” he grumbled, eyes falling back on the road.

“He does!” Benny laughed. “What is he? Boyfriend? Fiancé– oh my god, brother is she married?!”

“What?! NO!” Dean exclaimed. “She said he was her best friend and-- I don’t know… I mean, for all I know the guy could be in love with her too and I --” Dean stopped while he was ahead.

“You think he’s competition?” Benny looked at Dean, trying to read his friends expressions.

“No, Benny,” he paused. “I don’t see him as competition; mainly because this isn’t a competition. I just– I just figured, maybe he and I, we’re in the same boat, or maybe I can genuinely get to know him and probably her, too.”

Benny simply nodded as Dean parked the car. As they got out of the car, Benny noticed someone looking out at the Ocean from Ellen’s porch. Walking towards Dean, Benny tapped his friend’s shoulder.

“That her?”

“Huh?” Dean turned, catching sight of Y/N. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“You could invite her over,” Benny suggested.

Dean looked at his friend, “Are you out of your mind? And scare her away with you clowns? No, I-- I’ll probably see her around town.” Dean shook his head as he made his way inside.

Benny took a hand to his chest, face and body language screaming mocking offence. “Have you seen me, Winchester? I’m a goddamn Teddy Bear. Who would ever be scared of me?”

Dean smirked as he opened the door, “your mother!” With a laugh Dean ran inside dropping his bag with a copy of the contract on the table as Benny chased him inside.

It was the next afternoon, when Dean was looking over the blueprints of the new garage with Cas and Benny when his phone rang. Picking it up he smiled when he showed Cas and Benny the name that flashed on the screen. ‘Bobby Singer’.

He placed a finger to his lips, signaling for his friends to quiet down. “Mr. Singer,” he smiled as he answered the call.

“Mr. Singer, how are you today?” Dean sat down on one of the chairs in his dining room.

’Dean, I was looking over the contract and I got my lawyer on it and he says it’s a good deal.’ He could hear Bobby hesitate. ‘I decided to sign… on one condition.’

Dean motioned again for Cas and Benny to shut up. “What would that be, Mr. Singer?”

‘There is a wall in the garage,’ Dean could hear Bobby take a deep breath. ‘I would like it if you could restore the wall instead of tear it down. It-- it has a special meaning to me and I would really like for it to stay a part of the garage.’

Even though he knew Mr. Singer couldn’t see him, Dean nodded, understanding what wall the man was talking about. “Of course! That won’t be a problem. Nothing will be done to the building unless you approve it first, Mr. Singer.” Dean assured. “You have my word; that wall will not be torn down.”

‘Well, alright then,’ Bobby huffed. ‘I can drop off the contract tomorrow when I go pick up Thasman to teach him the ropes.’

“That’s great,” Dean smiled. “I can fax them over to my Lawyer as soon as I get them. Mr. Singer I hope you know that we do appreciate doing business with you.”

‘Thank you, and there is no need for any of that, son.’

“Alright Mr. Singer,” Dean smiled. “We will see you tomorrow.”

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Bobby grumbled. ‘And kid, call me Bobby. Mr. Singer makes me sound old.’

He chuckled. “Ok, Bobby.”

‘Alright, enough of this sappy crap,’ Bobby growled. ‘I have a meatloaf to heat up and whiskey to drink. I’ll see you boys tomorrow morning.’

“Sure thing. Have a good day, Bobby.”

‘Yeah, yeah,’ with that Bobby had hung up the phone.

Dean gave an excited yell as he looked over the plans and then to Cas and Benny.

“He’s bringing the signed contract over tomorrow!” Dean gave them each a high five before hugging them. “He only asked that we restore one of the walls that has a mermaid on it.”

“Well that settles it!” Exclaimed Benny. “We’re opening a garage!”

“What’s the deal with all the mermaids around town?” Cas tilted his head at Dean. “And Mr. Singer wants us to keep a wall painting of one?”

“It is weird.” Dean conceded. “But the locals have this mermaid legend going. I guess it’s for tourists. And who am I to go against good marketing?”

“If mermaids are what it takes for us to succeed here, then mark me down in the believer list.” Benny jokes, making his way towards the stairs. “Andy, mon coeur! Singer’s signing! Come celebrate with us!”

“That is wonderful news!” Andrea ran up to Benny jumping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. “I knew you guys would get it.” She bent her head down to kiss him.

Dean watched as Benny and Andrea made out in front of them. Looking at Cas, he motioned for the kitchen where the Blue-eyed man followed.

“I think that’s getting too hot and heavy,” Dean smirked. “Want to cool them down?”

Castiel smirked back. “You know I do. ”

Dean and Cas looked around the kitchen for the biggest pot they could find and filled it with water and ice cubes. Meanwhile, Benny and Andrea seemed to be stuck in their own little world, still eating each other’s faces like there was no tomorrow. Dean and Cas quietly walked up behind Benny as they lifted the large pot filled with ice water and dumped it on the couple.

The couple shrieked. Andrea jumped away from Benny and the cold water and Benny simply froze up, mouth gaping and giving his friends an ‘I will fucking kill you’ look. “Shit!”

“Sorry you two,” Dean chuckled. “I’d like to keep this house just a bit PG13 for a while.”

Andrea laughed, twisting her hair around to squeeze the water out of it. “Fuck off, Dean.”

“What?” He smiled innocently. “I mean it’s no different than that Wet T-shirt contest at the frat house that one time.” He smiled dreamily. “Those were the days.”

“Perhaps it’s best that we leave them alone and leave the celebration for tomorrow when it’s all official.” Castiel proposed.

Dean laughed, “Alright. But try to keep the noise level down you crazy animals. Anyone up for pizza?”

Seeing his three friends nod, he took out his phone and the piece of paper with the number of the pizza place, ordering two large meatlovers. As they were waiting for the pizza, Dean realized he needed to call Sam to give him a heads up on the documents he would receive tomorrow. Excusing himself, he made his way to his room and dialed the familiar number.

“Dean?”

It was so good to hear his brother’s voice again. “Heya, Sammy.”

‘How are you? You got home safe?’

“Yeah,” Dean smiled. “So, I’m moving on with my business. I have the contract to send you.” Dean looked out his window to the ocean.

‘That’s great!’ Congratulated Sam. ‘Yeah, sure, send it over and I’ll make sure everything’s in order, alright?’

“Yeah,” Dean smiled. “How are things?”

‘Good,’ Sam sighed. ‘Mick has been handling the Lucifer contract. He has his contact all over it.’

Dean could hear Sam shuffling a few things before taking a deep breath.

‘Mom left the house,’ Sam said quietly.

Dean wasn’t sure he had heard right. “What!? When did this happen?! What happened?! Is she alright?!”

‘Yeah,’ Sam cleared his throat. ‘Yeah, she’s staying with Me and Jess. It um… it happened yesterday. Dad said something about dragging you back and she gave him an ultimatum and she ended up leaving.’

Dean felt his knees get weak. “Oh my god.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. His parents had been through rough patches, every marriage in the history of everything has, but he knew his mom loved John Winchester with everything she had... And she had just given him an ultimatum because of her son, because of him.

How could he do this?

He was going to be sick.

‘Dean? You okay?’ Sam’s worried voice reached his ears.

He took a deep, somewhat shaky, breath. “I need a moment, Sam.”

‘Dean,’ Sam could tell what Dean was thinking. ‘It’s not your fault.’

“Twenty-seven years, Samuel!” Dean cut him off, laughing bitterly. “Twenty-fucking-seven years married and I’m the thing that came between them.”

‘Please don’t beat yourself up over it,’ Sam pleaded. ‘You know as well as I do that Dad just really pushed Mom’s buttons. I’m sure that by the end of the week she’ll be home and he will calm down.’

“Yeah, yeah, I know, Sam.” he sniffed. “I’m sorry. I– Fuck, man.”

‘You aren’t thinking about coming back here, are you?’ There was a slight panic to Sam’s voice.

“No, of course not. I’m not going back to Kansas.” he clarified. “I can’t. I won’t. Bobby’s going to sign the contract, I have so many plans ready to go… No, man. I��m not going back.”

Dean could hear Sam breathe a sigh of relief. ‘Okay, good. Because Jess and I were planning on making a visit this weekend.’

“You’re shitting me.” Dean chuckled in disbelief.

‘I’m not sure if Mom’s coming with, but yeah. Talked to Jess about it. She wants to check out the perfect spot for the wedding’ Sam let out a chuckle. Dean could tell his brother was smiling brightly. ‘Wants to make sure that your house isn’t going to fall off a cliff or anything since you have Benny and Cas there.’

“I don’t think the reception should be at my place, Sammy. House’s too small for all your guests.” he commented. “But, the shore and the view of the ocean… You and Jess are gonna love it.”

‘Jess was thinking of an outside tent reception,’ Sam smiled. ‘I’m glad things are going good. I’ll make sure to notarize the contract and that everything is in order.’

“Thanks Man,” Dean closed his eyes. “You go ahead and get some sleep. Kiss mom and Jess for me.”

‘Yeah, I will,’ Sam assured him. ‘Talk to you later, Jerk.’

“Talk to you later, Bitch.” With that Dean hung up and sighed. He needed to think.

Making his way down stairs, he was just in time for the pizza to arrive.

“I got it.” Cas said, walking towards the door.

The pizza looked delicious. Andrea and Benny had set the table, and they even poured some soda in his wine glasses in an attempt to make it a celebratory drink. But his head was stuck in a loop, thinking about his mother.

“I’m gonna head out for a moment,” Dean mumbled as he walked past his friends.

Benny and Cas looked at each other. They knew the look on Dean’s face. Something had happened.

“You okay, Brother?” Benny crossed his arms and leaned on the wall closest to the door.

“Yeah, I’m good. I just need some space… You guys start eating, ok? I’ll be back soon.”

The trio watched on as Dean walked out of the house. Closing his eyes, Dean let the cool sea breeze caress his face. Taking a deep breath, he let his lungs fill with the sea air before making his way down to the beach. He continued walking until he reached the edge of the shore. He had made a habit of walking on the beach barefoot. There was something about feeling the wet sand that calmed him. The sky was filled with an array of different colors as the sun was slowly setting. Even though the sunset was on the west side, Dean still loved seeing the different colors dance in the sky. He was about to turn back when he noticed a figure sitting on one of the rocks nearby. As he got closer, he realized it was Y/N. He hadn’t realized he was staring and getting closer to her until he stubbed his toe on a stray rock.

“Son of a bitch,” he mumbled. He was distracted with his slight injury. He had no idea her attention was on him.

“Are you ok?” her voice startled him. He turned towards her, earning a wave. “Hi, Dean.”

Dean gave a nervous chuckle, “Yeah,” he blushed. “I just stubbed my toe. Rocks are everywhere around here.” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “How are you Y/N?”

She smiled softly, making herself comfortable. “I’m ok. Just glad I’m here. ”

“Mind if I join you on the rock?” Dean pointed to the spot next to her.

“No, please join me,” she moved over to give him more room. “What brings you outside?”

“Just needed a moment to breathe,” He sighed. “Ever get the feeling that…” -- he licked his lips -- “you are just being suffocated because your parents want you to be something you’re not.”

“I think I do,” Y/N whispered as she glanced at him. “It’s like you are being pulled by the oceans current down to the depths and you can’t escape.”

“Exactly. My Dad,” Dean sighed. “My Dad, doesn't understand that I do not want to run the company the way he wants me to run it. I want to be under the hood of the car, getting greasy and just getting my hands dirty.”

“My father is--” Dean watched as she closed her eyes. “My father is a very important man where Thasman and I live.” She turned to face him. “He is a dignitary, if you will. I am expected to pick the man I’m going to marry, as tradition, on my birthday next week. And I--” Dean watched as she rubbed her eye trying to hide her tears. “I don't want to. I don't want to be the next person to lead our-- community.”

“My dad wants me to lead our company,” Dean chuckled. “I guess we have something in common. Both our dad’s want us to be something we don’t want to be.” He leaned back on his arms watching as the colorful sky began to turn dark. “What brought you and your friend to Matagorda?”

“Oh--” Dean watched as Y/N bit her lip. “Well, Thasman and I were looking for places to explore and this seemed like a very nice place.” She hugged her knees to her chest. “We met Ellen and she has been the best thing that happened to us.”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled. “Ellen is the best neighbor I’ve ever had. She was very friendly when I first moved in.” Dean took a closer look at Y/N and slightly frowned. She looked to be in pain. “You okay?”

“Huh?” she turned to face him.

Dean could see sweat forming on her brow. She looked like she was going to throw up. Dean leaned over and touched her forehead. She was warm to the touch. Warmer than any human should be.

“You’re burning up,” Dean looked at her worriedly. “I should take you to the hospital.”

“Ellen,” was all Y/N said before she leaned forward eyes closed.

Dean moved as quick as lightning to keep her from hitting her head on the rock. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, her breathing had become shallow. He looked down at her, then to his car. He debated on taking her to the hospital, but she had said Ellen. Maybe she had a condition Ellen knew about? Did she have Cancer? Lupus? Or some other illness that affected her? With a small growl, he pushed through the sand, careful not to drop her as he made his way to Ellen’s house.

“ELLEN!” he bellowed. “Ellen, HELP!”

He made it to the path that led to his neighbor’s house in record time, he was sure. Y/N’s skin seemed to be getting hotter and rougher to the touch. He saw as Ellen’s front door opened, giving way to the older woman, followed by a confused looking Thasman.

As soon as his eyes landed on Y/N, all confusion was erased as a hard stare settled on his face. He ran over to them, all but basically pushing Ellen out of his way and meeting Dean just a few steps away from her porch.

“What happened?” Thasman glared at Dean. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn't do anything!” Dean growled at the young man. “We were sitting on the rock overlooking the water as the sun was setting. I noticed she was looking pale and weak and asked her what’s wrong.” Dean allowed the man to take Y/N from his arms. “I touched her forehead and noticed it was warm and asked her if she needed a hospital. Before she fainted she said Ellen.” Dean walked after Thasman.

“Lia bi hhu-huu,” Thasman muttered. (She is hot)

“What? What kind of language is that?” Dean glared at Thasman.

“None of your concern,” he brushed Dean off. “Ellen I need a place to cool her body with water.”

“I got a tub you can use, Thas,” Ellen pointed in the direction of one of her bathrooms. “Dean, you can go on home. We’ll take it from here.”

“But--” Dean stopped when Ellen lifted her hand.

“Dean, Please. I promise she is going to be fine. Thasman and I can take care of her,” Ellen gently pushed him out of her home. “Go on now, get home. I’ll call you when she’s feeling better.”

Dean clenched his fist and tightened his jaw. They were hiding something from him.

“Ellen,” Dean closed his eyes. “She needs a hospital.” he tried to argue.

“And we will take her if it gets to that point,” Ellen assured him. “We are going to get her temperature down and keep an eye on her. I give you my word Campbell, she isn’t going to be hurt.” Ellen used her hand to guide his face so that his green eyes met her brown ones. “I promise, Dean. And you know I never go back on my promises, boy. Now go home, please.”

And so there’s chapter 11!

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hoboal87 · 4 years

Text

Elastic Heart Chapter Thirteen

Title : Elastic Heart - Crowley

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Crowley, Cordelia Y/L/N

Pairing(s): Sam x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Cordy have started to settle into their new home when an enemy of Sam and Dean knocks on their door.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: cursing, angst, TW: Torture (physical and mental), threats against a child, threats of kidnapping, CROWLEY IS NOT A NICE DUDE

A/N: Series is mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. For the purposes of this fic Sam was born in ‘84 instead of '83.

A/N 2: Please read the warnings!

A/N 3: This chapter uses dialogue from 8x23 “Sacrifice”

Beta’d by @deanwinchesterswitch

Elastic Heart Masterlist

Read Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen - Crowley

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” His gravelly voice sends shivers down my spine. He doesn’t wait for me to answer, stepping over the threshold into my home. He looks around for a moment, a smug grin creeping across his face. “Moose and Squirrel thought they could hide you from me, but as always, they underestimate me.”

I’m unable to stop him as he moves further into the house. My eyes dart to the kitchen, hoping that Cordy stays in there until I can get this stranger out of the house. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe the rumors aren’t true.” There’s a twinge of disappointment in his voice.

Rumors? “What do you want?”

“Oh, Y/N, I don’t even know where to start.” My heart stops at his use of my name. He lets out a low, breathy chuckle. “Squirrel’s head on a platter, Moose under my command, serving in his rightful place, and you’re going to help me get what I want.”

“Who are you?” I ask, trying to cover the fear in my voice.

“Name’s Crowley.” He walks into my living room, his voice is calm, but underneath I can sense he’s dangerous. “Been watching you for some time now, Y/N, since before you left that godforsaken town in Texas, lucky for you, I’m a patient man.” He’s been watching me? “It’s fate, darling, that you’re in Lawrence. Surely you know this is the same town in which he was born, where his mother died?” I don’t answer. “Now, the only family he has left is in the same place his family fell apart.”

“Y/N,” Cordy comes out from the kitchen. The man’s eyes widen at the sight of her, a look of smugness washes over his face. “Who is it?”

“Cordy,” I try my best to keep all worry out of my voice. I have to get her out of the house, “how about you go over to Ms. Cynthia’s and play with Ava?” I try to keep my voice steady, not wanting to alarm her.

“This must be her.” His eyes narrow on Cordy. “She’s the spitting image of him; how no one put it together sooner is beyond me.” A sly smile creeps over his face. “Hello sweetie, you can call me Uncle Crowley.”

Her eyes dart between the man and me, and she doesn’t move. I move towards Cordy, and I can feel the man’s eyes on me, watching my every step.

“Cordelia Mary, look at me,” I say, pulling her attention back to me. “Go over and play with Ava, I’ll come over to get you in a little while.”

She hesitates, and I keep a fake smile on my face as she makes her way towards the front door. She stops in front of me. “I don’t want to leave you, Y/N,” Cordy whispers, throwing her arms around my waist, holding on to me tightly.

“Yes, Y/N, let her stay,” he taunts, taking another step closer to us. “I do love to play.”

I gently pry her arms off of me and guide her out the front door. She stands on the porch for a moment, watching as I do everything to mask my fear.

He leans in whispering in my ear, “I could snap her neck like a twig.” Panic fills me as he stares into my eyes. I can feel them watering, and I nod slightly.

“Stay at Ava’s until I come and get you. You don’t have to worry about me.” I close the gap between us, lower myself down to meet her eye-level, and wrap my arms tight around her. “Remember what Sam told you? About the angels?” She nods. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

She takes a step back, and I give her a reassuring smile. I can feel Crowley behind me, watching as Cordy walks to Cynthia’s across the street. As soon as I see the door open and she disappears into the house, I let out a strangled breath. When I turn around, he’s only inches away and takes a step to the side; with a flick of his fingers, the door behind me slams shut. My heart drops, and I turn back around, desperately trying to open it. He chuckles at my attempts, before yanking me away.

“Whatever you want, leave her out of it,” I say with all the courage I can muster. “I don’t know who you think we are-”

“You’re exactly who I think you are, darling,” he says sharply. “I didn’t believe my source at first, thought she was sending me on some wild goose chase, but there is no denying it. That is the child of Sam Winchester.”

“She’s not–” I splutter, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There’s no point in lying, darling.” He sighs, rolling his eyes. “There’s been quite enough of that already,“ he laughs snidely. "Angels weren’t the only ones keeping tabs on you.”

“Who are you? What do you want from us?”

“I hate repeating myself,” he growls. “Crowley, King of Hell.” He snaps his fingers, and I’m forced into a chair, unable to move. “You and that little bastard Winchester, are going to help me get what I want.”

“Fuck you.” I spit out. I squirm against the chair, trying with all my strength to move, but as hard as I try, I can’t fight my way out. Castiel, if you can hear me, I’m in trouble, and I need your help.

“Feisty one, aren’t we?” he quips. “I like a girl with a little fight in her.”

I continue to struggle against the invisible force holding me down. He disappears for a moment, and when he returns, he’s holding a bottle of amber liquid and glass.

“In a moment such as this, one needs a drink,” he declares while filling the glass. “You, my dear, are going to be in for such a treat. Nothing brings me more joy than watching the Winchesters suffer.”

“They won’t let you hurt me. They’ll be here any second, and they’ll stop you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, darling.” He leans forward, a smug smile forming on his lips. “My sources tell me that those morons aren’t aware that you’re in Lawrence. They’re under the impression that you’re still in Weldon.” He brings the glass to his lips, taking a sip. “Tsk tsk tsk. I could move you across the country before they even realize you’re gone. Or maybe,” he takes another drink, “I’ll just leave your body for them to find, that is, whatever’s left.”

“Fuck you.”

“Very well then, perhaps I’ll go to your neighbors and have a chat with little Cordelia,” he smirks, and I can feel the blood drain from my face. “You’ll find I can be very persuasive.”

“Don’t.” My heart is thudding in my chest. “You even go near her and I’ll–”

“You’ll what, darling?” He grins slyly and produces a long silver blade, admiring it as he slices through the air. My eyes widen as I suck in a nervous breath. “Now, are you going to do as you’re told?”

Cas, if you can hear me, I need your help.

I clench my jaw and don’t respond, trying to hold my own against him. He’s out of the chair and in front of me instantly, holding the blade against my throat. I whimper as I feel a trickle of blood flow down my neck.

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Are you going to cooperate?” I nod defeatedly. “Good girl. You’re going to convince those idiot Winchesters to hand something over to me, something that belongs to me. Understood?”

“Why me?” I mumble, hoping that I can stall him until Cas answers my prayers. “We don’t– we’re not hunters, we’re not in that life.”

“That’s what makes this even more delicious,” He brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip. “If you were, you’d know how to ward your home, keep things like me out. Moose just left you vulnerable to any sort of attack.” His words sting; I keep telling myself that there isn’t any truth to it. “It’s usually the first thing they teach someone, Devil’s Trap, simple enough for anyone to learn. Would’ve kept me from doing this.” He snaps his fingers, and pain radiates throughout my body. His eyes narrow as I silently struggle. “Interesting.”

He snaps again, and the pain slowly dissipates, before rising again. He repeats this over and over for what feels like hours. I’m a sobbing mess when he finally stops. Please, Cas.

“You know, our boy Sam has been getting his hands very dirty for quite some time now, and you two may be the only things that can keep him in line. You see, darling, you’re what they call leverage.” He finishes the glass and pours himself another drink. “If you’re not enough, little Cordelia may be the exact motivation those piles of flannel need.” His phone rings, pulling his attention away from me; he stares at it for a moment before looking back in my direction. “Do as you’re told, darling.” He taps a button on the phone and lays it down on the arm of his chair. “Moose! I was wondering when you’d finally call.”

“We’re finishing the Trials, Crowley. There’s nothing you can do to stop us.” The sound of Sam’s voice through the small speaker fills me with a temporary sense of relief.

“Are you sure about that? Because I’ve been having quite the lovely chat with someone who may be able to convince you otherwise. Say ‘hello,’ darling.” Crowley walks towards me, holding the phone out until it’s in front of me.

“Whatever you’re trying to pull, it isn’t gonna work.” Crowley’s eyes narrow as he watches me react to Sam’s voice on the phone. “It’s over, you lose.” Crowley arches an eyebrow and smiles at me. He’s enjoying this.

“Cooperate, darling,” Crowley hisses, waiting for me to speak. “Not talking, eh? We can fix that.” He growls, and suddenly a burning sensation spreads from my shoulder to my fingertips, as some invisible force pulls it into an unnatural position. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, doing everything I can not to give him the satisfaction of knowing the pain I’m in. “Oh, I like this one, Moose. She’s tougher than she looks. Let’s see what we can do about that.” Crowley looks at me pointedly for a moment, and his lips curl.

Before I can comprehend what he’s smiling about, the force on my arm increases. Tears fill my eyes, and the taste of copper fills my mouth as I bite the inside of my cheek, desperately trying not to give in to Crowley’s demands.

“I wish you could see the look on her face. She’s trying so hard to be strong. But…” Another pull on my arm, snaps the bone, and I scream, unable to do anything else. “I always get what I want.”

“SAM!” I barely recognize my voice as I shriek out his name.

“Y/N/N?!” His voice is faint through the buzzing in my ears. I let out a sob as the pain radiates through me. “Is that you? Talk to me, baby, let me know you’re okay.”

“It’s her, Sam.” My vision has blurred, but I can still make out the smug smile on Crowley’s face. “Did you really think you could keep Y/N and that little bastard of yours hidden from me?”

“Stay away from them!” Sam’s voice roars through the phone speaker.

“Too late for that one, Moose. I don’t know why I didn’t think of using them sooner. Tommy never stood a chance. Tell me, what was it like staring into Sarah’s face as she took her last breath? Knowing you allowed another child to be raised without their mother? You won’t see Y/N’s, and who knows what’ll happen to little Cordelia.”

“No, no, no,” I whimper. Crowley lets out a low, breathy chuckle as he continues torturing me with his words. Castiel, I need your help.

“I have connections everywhere, boys, you should know that by now. But can you imagine my surprise when Y/N and Cordelia show up at the only place I have one of my plants in a hundred miles? That’s serendipitous.”

“You go anywhere near her, and I swear to God–” Sam threatens, voice full of anger and frustration.

“You’ll what?” Crowley snaps his fingers, and it feels like white-hot pokers are being dragged along my veins. “You think you can stop me from doing this?” I scream out again as his knife slashes across my skin.

“Take your hands off of her!”

“Oh, believe me, Samantha, if my hands were on her, you’d know.”

He snaps again, and I let out a shaky breath as the pain subsides. I know it won’t last long. Crowley’s getting off on torturing me both physically and mentally. I try to prepare myself for whatever he may do or say next. The sudden sound of a dog growling somewhere from behind startles me, and I turn away in disgust as a rancid puff of air wafts across my cheek.

“You know, I’m quite disappointed in you,” sarcasm bleeds from his lips. “Knocking up some small-town girl, then just walking away? That’s not a move I’d expect from you, Samuel. But the pièce de résistance? Walking away without leaving some sort of protection for your whore and the little bastard. You know what’s stopping me from getting Cordelia?” Crowley’s eyes narrow on me, “nothing, except the fact that I want you to listen as I rip Y/N’s last breath from her. Come to think of it, maybe I’ll go to the neighbor’s house and bring Cordelia back here. Let her watch as I slit Y/N’s throat.”

“Y/N/N, don’t listen to him,” Sam’s voice cuts through the air. “Whatever he says, you can’t believe him. Demons lie. We’re– I’m gonna stop him.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Crowley sneers. “Tell me, do you even know where your precious Y/N and Cordelia are?”

“O-of course,” Sam stammers. Suddenly, I’m aware of the fact that I did the one thing I promised Sam I wouldn’t do, I took Cordy and left. Crowley’s baiting him, and he’s falling for it.

“Kansas,” my voice is weak, barely above a whisper, and every logical part of my brain is telling me that Sam can’t hear me, but I try to tell him anyway. “We’re in La-”

I feel a grip around my throat, cutting off my air supply as I try to choke out the words.

“Ah, ah, ah, darling,” Crowley berates me. “Let’s not spoil the surprise, shall we?

“Le- go,” I beg him, “pl- any-”

“What was that? Did you say anything, darling?” Still unable to speak, I nod in response. “That is a poor choice of words.” Crowley sets the phone down, saunters over and pats the air next to my shoulder, “stand down, Juliet.” The growling fades away as he leans in closer and grabs me by the hair, yanking my head back. “I could have you tied down and gagged, begging for death, and while I’d be happy to oblige, it wouldn’t quite scratch the itch.

“Maybe I should have one of my demons possess you,” Crowley eyes the charm hanging around my neck and lowers his voice. “Jolly Green would never suspect such a thing. He’d be so happy to have you back. Then, when the time is just right, I’d have you watch as he dies by your hand. Can you imagine the look on his face, watching the love of his life slice him open? You’d be a captive audience, allowed to watch as he draws his last breath, feel the warmth of his blood as it flows from his wounds, maybe even get a little taste. Squirrel would be devastated. There’s nothing that he wants more than for Moose to get his happy ending. Watching him unravel as he realizes there’s no way to bring back his precious Sammy? Well, that would be simply sublime.” He lets go of me and takes another drink from the glass. “No demon will deal with him, not again. Sam Winchester will be dead, for good this time.”

“This time?” I gasp as the pressure on my throat is released.

“Ah, it seems those flannel-wearing idiots haven’t shared everything with you. Can’t say I blame them, that lumberjack has died so many times, who can keep track?” He lets out a dry laugh, and I close my eyes in a desperate attempt to calm myself. “Surely he told you how he let Lucifer out of his cage in Hell? No? Or how he let Dean rot away in Purgatory for a year?”

The anger in Sam’s voice is almost palpable as it booms through the small phone, and I tilt my head, almost expecting to see him standing next to the chair. He alternates between threatening Crowley and begging me not to listen to the demon. Crowley continues to ramble, and I try not to react to his goading, hoping I can keep him talking until Cas shows up.

“Samantha tried to live a normal life.” Crowley walks over and picks up the phone. “Surely, he told you about the girl he gave up everything for?” I want to scream, tell him to shut up, and I can see the joy spread across his face as he riles me up. “C’mon Sam, tell us all about the girl that made you leave everything you’ve ever known. I’m sure Y/N is just dying to know why you chose another woman over her. Over your daughter.”

“I– I didn’t. Y/N/N, please, you can’t believe him. When all of this is over, I’ll explain everything.”

“I think we’d all love to hear it, Moose. Come now, share with the class,” Crowley intones. “Better yet, explain to Dean just how easy it was for you to walk away. You didn’t even think twice about it, did you? Just left poor Kevin to the wolves, so to speak. Dean was fighting for his life, and you were living in Texas with a girl and a dog.”

Sam’s breaths come hard and fast as he sputters out denials. Dean’s muffled ‘motherfucker’ filters through the discord.

“He was so close, darling, only a few hours away, and yet, he didn’t even bother to contact you, did he? No, Samantha found some other little whore to fill the emptiness. Gave up looking for his brother, for her. Gave up a life of hunting for her.”

I keep repeating Sam’s words in my head, demons lie.

“He didn’t do that for you, did he? No, he ran away.”

“He didn’t– it wasn’t his fault,” I argue feebly, not sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself. “He loves me; he wouldn’t have left if he’d known-”

“Are you sure about that, darling?”

“Y/N, don’t listen to him,” the low timbre of Dean’s voice comes through the phone.

“We’d been keeping track of Y/N for years,” Sam and Dean are silent. “Oh, boys, did you think that Feathers and all those other idiot angels were the only ones who knew about Y/N? That’s just naive. You know Lilith was planning on using her next if Ruby couldn’t get the job done?”

“Fuck you,” Sam growls. “Leave her alone, Crowley.”

“Didn’t tell her about Ruby, either? You just love keeping your secrets, don’t you?” Crowley’s lips curl as Sam goes silent. “Got you nice and addicted to-”

“Shut it, Crowley!”

“You had so many chances to track her down. Admit it; you hadn’t thought about Y/N in years. If you had, it wouldn’t have taken ten years and a Shtriga to get you back to that one-horse town. We thought Jessica’s death would’ve sent you running back, but no, your unhealthy, co-dependent relationship with your brother and need for revenge consumed every part of you, didn’t it, Sam? Every choice you made after that took you further away from Y/N.”

I remember Sam saying he dreamt of Jessica’s death. Did he know that this was gonna happen? That Crowley would come after us? I knew he wasn’t telling me something, but I never realized just how dangerous the monsters that Sam fought could be, and apparently, he decided not to warn me. Crowley is making a point that I don’t want to believe: Sam chose to stay away for all those years.

“Alright, Boris, enough with the monologuing.” Dean’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "Y/N, listen to me; whatever Crowley tells you, you can’t believe a word he says.”

“Let her hear it from the source then,” Crowley says with a coy grin. “Tell us, Sam. Tell Y/N why you never came back, why you chose girl after girl instead of her?”

“It wasn’t like that, Y/N.” Sam’s voice is filled with desperation. Crowley’s baiting him, and he’s falling for it. “I always wanted to come back to you-to our family.”

“Your family,” Crowley mocks Sam. “Rumors about a Winchester child went around for years.“ Crowley directs his next comments to me. "But no one could find her; someone went to great lengths to cover up her existence. Had a spell of protection cast over her shortly after she was born. Lucky for me, it was only a matter of time before you crossed paths with that lumbering idiot again.”

“Fuck you,” I mutter.

“Eloquent, aren’t we?” Crowley chuckles. “You know, I’m normally much more patient, but when I heard about the trials, I just knew it was time to act. All I had to do was give Samantha a nudge here, a well-placed article there, et voila, it was like taking candy from a baby,” Crowley refills his glass. “One of my lieutenants was already in place when those two heaping piles of flannel crossed the town’s lines. You still had so much resentment for your parents you didn’t even notice the change in your father’s behavior, did you, Y/N? Would you like to know the real cause of that accident?”

Crowley sneers as I cut him off with a scream. “No!”

“Oh, yes, darling. Sometimes you just have to pull the strings of fate in the right direction,” he snaps his fingers once again, sending lightning bolts of pain coursing through me. “Now let’s talk about the little one, should I bring her back and let her watch you die? Or should I leave your body for her to find?”

Panic replaces the pain coursing through me, and each breath becomes harder to take. “Maybe, I’ll just turn her into one of my loyal followers.”

No, no, no. I can see the pleasure Crowley takes in my fear. Sam’s voice rings out tense and full of condemnation as he continues to yell at Crowley.

“I’d have little Cordelia calling me ‘father’ in no time, it would be the ultimate power.”

My body vibrates with rage as he releases his hold. “You stay away from her. I’ll kill you if you lay a finger on her.”

“There it is.” There’s a smugness in his voice. “I see now exactly why Sam chose you. I didn’t at first, but now, with your mama bear instincts coming out? You are the perfect vessel to carry on the Winchester bloodline. Crowley turns his focus back to the phone in his hand. “What’s it gonna be, boys? You’ve got two minutes to make your decision. Finish the Trials, or save your precious family.”

The tightness around my throat returns, slowly cutting off my air supply. Please, Cas, help.

“We’ll deal. You stop, we’ll stop.” I can practically hear Sam pacing the floor of whatever room he is in. “Now, let her go.”

“First, we must discuss terms, gigantor. I want the Demon Tablet, the whole Demon Tablet. Then we’ll talk about what to do with the girls.” After several moments of strained silence, Crowley grows impatient. “Tick-tock, boys. Little Cordelia could walk in on us at any moment. I’d hate for her to have to watch her mother die. It’s an awful thing, isn’t it, Moose? Watching someone you love die right before your eyes.”

“Fine, then we get the angel tablet,” Dean’s voice fills the air.

“On what grounds?” Crowley argues.

“On the grounds that you’re a douchebag, and no one should have that much power.”

“Fine. Now about Y/N and the little one,” Crowley’s lips curl as I feel my throat closing.

“They’ve got nothing to do with any of this, we’ve agreed to your terms, now let Y/N go.”

“You’re right, Y/N doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use her in every depraved way I can think of, have a bit of fun with her.”

“Fuck you,” Sam snarls, “if you even think about laying a finger on her, I’ll kill you and every fucking demon that gets in my way.”

“Such a flirt, Samantha. Your dear Y/N is running out of time, and you want foreplay? I’m touched. Once she’s gone, little Cordelia will be mine for the taking. Azazel had the right idea; I could make myself a child-army. I wonder, Sam, did she inherit your predilection for demon blood?”

“Listen here, you son of a bitch.”

“No, you listen. You will stop the Trials and give me the tablet, or Moose’s whore is gonna bite the dust. What’s more important? Completing the trials or letting Y/N die? Will you let her become another innocent casualty in your quest to save the world? It’s up to you, Sasquatch, what’s it going to be?”

“Let me talk to her, Crowley,” Sam’s voice cuts through the haziness of my brain.

“You don’t trust me, Moose? I’m hurt.”

“Prove to me that she’s still alive.” Crowley rolls his eyes, and the grip on my neck loosens. I gasp for air as he brings the phone closer to me. “Y/N/N, talk to me, please, baby.” I choke back a sob. “C’mon Y/N/N, let me know you’re okay.��

“S-m,” I plead, “don- g- Cordy.“ Crowley lets out a deep chuckle.

“Y/N/N, you’re gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let him hurt you or Corie.”

“One minute.”

Tears press against my eyes, and I try to blink them away, not wanting Crowley to see my weakness.

“Maybe I’ll kill the little one first.” He rubs his thumb against my cheek, brushing away the traitorous tear that slipped free. “Let Y/N watch as I slit her throat.” Crowley’s voice is apathetic as it continues to torture me with his words. “Or maybe I’ll just take her with me to Hell; every child needs a father. Start her reprogramming immediately. She’s young enough. I’m sure within a few months, I could make her do anything I want. Now, shall I have her kill you or Squirrel first?”

“Fuck you,” Sam growls.

“Ah, the Winchester Wit, do you think Cordelia has that same mastery of language you have? Keep it up, and you’ll never know. Thirty seconds, Moose.“

Please, Castiel. I continue to pray silently as my vision begins to blur.

"I’ll stop the trials,” Sam mumbles, his voice so low I can barely understand him.

“What was that? Louder, Sam, so that Y/N can hear you.”

“I’ll stop,” Sam huffs, “now let her go.”

“I just need two little words from you,“ Crowley’s lips curve into a sneer, and he narrows his eyes back on the phone. "I surrender.”

Crowley’s fingers curl around nothing, and the pressure around my neck becomes unbearable. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my lungs are burning as my vision tunnels, darkness consuming it, but my only thought is for Cordy. Sam’s voice comes low through the phone, but I can’t make out his words.

Before the darkness completely takes over, the tightness around my neck loosens, and I take in long deep breaths, coughing as I exhale. Crowley is still wearing a smug smile; Sam must’ve told him what he wanted to hear.

"Pleasure doing business with you, boys.” Crowley ends the call and pockets the phone before turning his attention back on me. “This wasn’t personal; you mustn’t believe it was.” He sounds almost remorseful as he brings his attention back to me. “You and the little one were just a means to an end.” With a snap of his fingers, I find myself free from the unseen restraints. “As long as Moose and Squirrel keep up their end, my demons will stay away from you and Cordelia.” Crowley moves to place a hand on my shoulder.

“Touch me, and I’ll kill you,” I growl at him, adrenaline still pumping through me.

“Careful, darling. It may not have been about you, but I meant what I said. I’ll do things to you that will make you wish for death. The boys may have made a deal, but you didn’t. You could be in worse shape.”

“Why?” I mutter. “Why us?”

“I told you, darling, nothing motivates a Winchester better than threatening someone they love. Sam Winchester’s daughter and his former flame? You are the ultimate bargaining chips…”

I tune him out as my mind begins to race. This—this is the very reason why John wanted Sam to stay away. The reason why we could never be together. Dean said it himself, Crowley was using Cordy and me to get to him and Sam. I should’ve never told him the truth. I should’ve let him believe whatever John said to him that night.

“…next generation of Winchesters. Take care, darling.” he disappears before my eyes, leaving me alone in the empty house. My legs wobble as I stand, and I hold on to the furniture to keep myself upright. I make it to the front walkway before my legs give out, and I collapse against the wall, uncontrollable sobs leaving me.

I cradle my arm against my chest, and pain radiates from my shoulder with the slightest movement. I know I need a doctor. I foolishly pray to Cas again. Why would Sam tell me to pray to him if it wasn’t going to work? I should’ve known better than to trust that some angel was going to appear to save me.

Every instinct is telling me to go straight to Cordy and wrap her in my arms. I need to know that she is safe, that Crowley didn’t go after her anyway. Crowley said he had connections everywhere. Could Cynthia or Tom be possessed? Did sending her away do more harm than good? My mind is swimming with worry for her safety.

My legs shake as I stand back up, and I compose myself as best I can. I wrap my arm as carefully in a large ace bandage, wanting to shield Cordy from the aftermath as much as I can. I’m walking towards the door when I hear a light rapping, and panic starts filling my body again. Crowley had just proven to me that anyone or anything could walk into our house, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice fills the air. “It’s Cynthia; Cordy asked me to come check on you.”

I open the door just enough to peer out to confirm it is Cynthia standing there. I pull Sam’s necklace over my head and pass it through the opening, “can you put this on, please?” I say through the small space, Cynthia looks at me curiously but complies. I wait a moment to see if there is any kind of reaction before letting out a relieved sigh and opening the door wider.

“Y/N!” Cynthia exclaims as she takes in my disheveled appearance. “What happened?”

The night of the werewolf attack replays in my head, and how much it pained me to lie about what happened then, how I have to lie again.

“Me and my two left feet,” I lie and let out a weak laugh. “Tried to break my fall, and landed bad,” I shake my head and try to keep my voice as steady as I can.

“Hon,” she takes another step forward, gently grabbing my arm. An involuntary hiss leaves me, and tears fill my eyes. Her eyes land on the dried blood, where Crowley lacerated my shoulder. “A fall wouldn’t cause that.” A choked sob leaves me; I don’t know how to lie my way out of this. “I think you need to let me take you to the hospital.”

“I c-can’t ask you to do t-that, Cynthia.” I shake my head. I hate being this helpless. “Cordy, I need to see Cordy.”

“Cordy’s fine, Y/N,” she walks me over to the couch. “She and Ava are watching a movie.” She looks me over again; concern etched on her face. “Whatever happened, Y/N, you can tell me,” Cynthia softens her voice. “If someone attacked you–”

“No one attacked me,” I lie again, knowing I can’t tell her the truth. Cynthia frowns, doubtful of what I’m telling her. I pick something as close to the truth as I can. “When I was a teenager, I survived an animal attack,” I sigh.

“Oh, hon, I’m sorry.” Cynthia reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze.

“I’m mostly okay, but it caused me to start having panic attacks. Most of the time, I can calm myself down before they get really bad,” I gage her reaction. “But, my usual methods weren’t working, and I didn’t want Cordy to see me like that, that’s why I sent her over,” she nods as if she understands. “I was trying to get upstairs so that I could take my medication, and that’s when I fell.”

“That doesn’t explain the cuts on your shoulder and neck, Y/N,” she gently pries.

“It’s nothing, really,” I mumble, shaking my head. Cynthia’s forehead wrinkles, and her eyebrows furrow, but she doesn’t question me further. I lean my head back, and when I close my eyes, Cordy’s worried face is the only thing I can see. My heart begins to race, and each breath becomes harder to take. “Cordy!”

“She’s at my house, Y/N,” Cynthia attempts to calm me, but I jerk away when she reaches out. “Look at me, Y/N,” she demands softly, “where’s your medicine? Upstairs?”

I nod, mumbling “bathroom, sertraline,” in between ragged breaths. Cynthia returns with the bottle and a glass of water before I even realize that she’d left. She hands me two pills along with the glass, making sure that my trembling hand has a firm grip on it before sitting down. Once I swallow the medicine, Cynthia takes the glass from me and sets it on the coffee table. She squeezes my hand reassuringly and quietly sits next to me until my breathing begins to even out, and tensed muscles start to relax.

“Let me take you to the hospital, Y/N, I insist.”

By the time Cynthia and I are back from the hospital, it’s almost midnight. My arm is wrapped in a cast and perched in a sling. Cynthia walks us into my living room, setting a white bag with pain medicine on the coffee table. She props pillows behind me as I take a seat before her phone rings. She steps away, and I gather she’s talking to her husband, saying she doesn’t know when she’ll be home and that Cordy would be staying over.

“I can go get her,” I stand up from the couch as Cynthia walks back towards me, putting her phone away. “I don’t want to be a bother to you any more than I already have tonight.”

“Y/N, please,” Cynthia gently reaches for my good arm. “You need rest, and Cordy’s sleeping already. Let her stay over; it’s only going to worry her more if you come and get her in the middle of the night.”

“Are you sure? I know we haven’t gotten the chance to really know each other yet–”

“Y/N,” Cynthia lifts her hand to stop me. “You’re a single mom, and new around here, and you’ve already had a rough night. I’ve been there, and believe me, I know how hard it can be. Can I call anyone for you?” She asks as she retrieves a pill from the orange bottle, and I shake my head. “No family?” I shake my head again as she hands me one, and I swallow it dry. “No one at all?”

“It’s just the two of us,” my eyes drift over to a silver picture frame. “I’m an only child. My parents died in a car accident a few months ago. Cordy was in the car with them when it happened.”

“My God,” Cynthia gasps. “Y/N, I– I can’t imagine.”

“Thank you, we’re still adjusting, my parents–” I debate whether telling her the whole story. Maybe another time. “They were my whole support system.”

“What about Cordy’s dad? Is he around?”

“I don’t want to talk about her dad,” I snap back at her unintentionally.

“I’m sorry,” Cynthia’s face pinks up with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Guilt rises in me, it’s an innocent enough question, and I know she doesn’t mean to cause the reaction in me that it does. “No, please don’t apologize, you didn’t know. Cordy’s dad and me, it’s–”

“Complicated?”

“To put it mildly,” I let out a small chuckle, and we both relax. “He wants to be a part of our lives, but his job takes him all over the country, and Cordy needs stability in her life, not a dad who comes and goes.”

She lets out a sigh. “Like I said, Y/N, I’ve been there. If you ever want to talk about it, please don’t hesitate.”

Cynthia stays with me for another hour before going home and promising to send Cordy back first thing in the morning. I’m making my way up to my bedroom when I hear a rustling. My whole body tenses, knowing that just like before, I have no way of stopping another monster or demon from walking into my house. I turn around and see Cas standing in the front walkway, and for a moment, I relax.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have come sooner, Y/N,” Cas’ face remains unreadable as the two times I’d seen him before. As I close the distance between us, my relief is instantly replaced with rage. “But, I was otherwise engaged–” I cut him off with a slap to the face.

“You were ‘otherwise engaged’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I shout as I ball up my fist and pound it against Cas’ chest. “Sam said you would come if I prayed to you! Why didn’t you come? Didn’t you hear it?”

“Yes,” His face and voice stay emotionless. “The situation seemed to be under control.”

“Under control?” My face hardens, and I clench my jaw. It takes all of my willpower not to hit him again. “You call me being attacked in my own home, mine and my daughter lives being threatened ‘under control’? He tortured me just to get to Sam.”

“We had no reason to believe that Crowley was going to come after you. We were told by higher authorities that the demons weren’t aware of you or Cordelia. Clearly, they were incorrect.”

“Clearly,” I scoff and take a few steps back.

“I understand you’re upset, Y/N,” Cas responds coldly, speaking only in statements of fact. “Sam and Dean will have Crowley in their grasp soon enough; they won’t let him harm you or Cordelia. You must understand, Y/N, this is for the greater good.”

“The greater good is not my concern, Cas. The only thing I care about is my daughter. Do you know what he said to me? What he told me he would do to me? To Cordy?”

“I am sorry, Y/N. The angels assured us you were never in any real danger. If you were, I would have interceded sooner.”

“No real danger?” I gesture to my injured arm, “You call this no danger?”

“I can fix that,” he says and reaches out to touch my forehead.

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” I slap his hand away. “I can’t believe I ever thought that I could have a normal life with Sam,” I say more to myself than Cas. “He says he wants to protect us, but how is he gonna do that?” I’m rambling, and Cas stands to the side watching.

“Crowley was only using you to get to Sam and Dean,” Cas says as if it should give me some sort of comfort.

“You don’t think I know that, Cas?” I snap back. “He told me. I will not allow my daughter to be used as a way to keep Sam and Dean under control. We will not be pawns in whatever game they are playing at. We’re done. I’m done. Two months ago, Sam scared me enough to think he would hurt me intentionally, and now I find out that they are letting people die, just so what? What is so important that they would let that happen? Tell me, Cas,” I demand.

“Sam,” Cas hesitates. “Sam is completing a series of tests, and when they’re completed, it will seal up the gates of Hell. Crowley doesn’t want that; he needs Earth to fuel his deals and keep his demons satisfied. Ever since he found out about the Trials, Crowley has been doing everything he can to stop Sam from finishing them. I don’t know how he found out about you or Cordelia.“

“It doesn’t matter,” I mumble. “He knows, and I’m done with all of you, angels, demons, fucking werewolves, and soul-eaters. If fate was going to bring Sam and me back together, just for this to happen, then fuck fate.”

“Y/N, if I’d have thought that you were in danger, I would’ve been here with you tonight and not allowed Crowley to step through the door.” There’s a sincerity in his voice that I had yet to hear. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you better.”

“You didn’t protect me at all, Cas.” I throw his words back at him. “None of you did. If I would’ve known something like this would happen, I would’ve lied to Sam.” I let my emotions drive my next words. “I’m done with all of it. All of you. Just leave.”

“I am putting up warding around your house. Neither Crowley nor any other demon will not be able to step inside. I am sorry, Y/N, it was never our intention for any harm to come to you.”

“Sure,” I huff, trying to fight back my tears. “I’m supposed to believe you now? After what happened tonight?”

“I give you my word, Y/N. You and Cordelia will be under my protection from now on.”

“Somehow, I don’t find any comfort in that, Cas,” I grumble. “Please, get out of my house.”

“Y/N,” Cas softens his voice; it’s almost soothing. “I will never ignore another prayer from you or Cordelia.”

“I can’t–” I choke out. “Please, go.”

“You are safe now, Y/N. Both of you are safe.” Cas hesitantly nods and reaches out, gently squeezing my shoulder before vanishing with a rush of air.

Next Chapter

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years

Text

Facing the Unknown

Characters: Spencer Reid x Winchester!Reader, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, demons

Word Count: 3,583

Warnings: supernatural/criminal minds crossover, angst, fluff, nothing too bad

Summary: A case pops up to the infamous BAU city. Demons doesn’t mix well with real FBI agents, but you manage to save them all just fine.

Squares Filled: crime scene for @cmbingo // flattery will get you nowhere for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo // bleeding through the bandages in @badthingshappenbingo // enochian for my first heaven and hell bingo card // case fic for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

You can figure out a lot of things: why you don’t have the body you really want (you love pizza too damn much), why Dean doesn’t like to talk about his feelings (daddy issues), why Sam drank demon blood (Ruby made him do it), and why you can’t ever stop hunting (there will always be monsters). The only things you can’t figure out are angels and demons, more so the former.

Out of all the monsters you’ve dealt with, angels are the worst. They have a tendency to stick their noses in everyone’s business whether they are involved or not. Demons have a reason to do the exact same thing: they are spawns of Satan himself so they love to cause trouble and chaos. Angels just do it because they have nothing better to do. The only angel you like is Castiel, and even then it’s 50/50.

You’ve learned to love hunting. You know you’re going to spend the rest of your life doing it, so you may as well get along with the lifestyle instead of fighting it. Sam and Dean have learned the same lesson as you, so you’re not fazed when Sam says, “so get this”. You’ve adjusted to spending a few hours dedicated to sleep that having back to back hunts don’t even faze you anymore. However, this hunt, this specific hunt, has already drained your batteries and you’ve just started.

You stare at the dead body in front of you inside the morgue. There are three dead bodies with Enochian carved into their skin. Each of them is males and each of them has the same symbol on their chests. Castiel swears the angels have nothing to do with what’s been happening in this small town. Only men have been dropping dead for no reason. The angel thinks the demons are responsible for it, but you don’t know why they are carving Enochian symbols on their chests. They must be getting ready for some kind of ritual or spell, but Castiel doesn’t know what kind of ritual or spell that would need Enochian symbols on humans.

“How many more people have to die for us to understand what these demons are doing?” you ask with a sigh.

“This symbol means to summon death,” Castiel informs.

“Summon death? What, they can’t use speed dial? What do they want with Death?” Dean asks.

“If I knew that, then we would be able to stop them,” Castiel says. “However, the demons aren’t showing themselves until it’s too late. If we are going to try and stop them, then we need to get inside their heads before they make their next move.”

“Well, we have pictures of everything, so I say we grab some take out and beer, and think about this at the motel,” you suggest.

“I second that,” Your eldest brother grins.

“Shotgun!” you yell as you race to the car.

“Hey!” Sam scoffs.

“Sorry Sammy, you snooze you lose!” you stick your tongue out at him and get in through the passenger side.

After everyone is in, Dean peels out of the parking lot and heads straight to the best burger joint in this city. Something you and your brother like to do is to scope out the best burger places before starting the case. You’d cruise with him throughout the town and gather intel from the locals before trying the top three. The best, so far, has been Joe’s Burger Joint that has the juiciest meat you’ve ever tasted. You’ve begged the owner to give you the recipe so that Dean can make it back at the Bunker. However, he hasn’t given it up just yet.

Once you have the food in your possession, Dean heads back to the motel room. Castiel doesn’t eat (that’s another thing you couldn’t figure out) so he just sits on the bed while you and your brothers take up the small tab;e by the window. He’s staring intently at the pictures while you eat your burger. The TV is on a news channel, but it’s at a low volume so it’s not too distracting. You thought it was a good idea to put it on in case there might be another death regarding your angelic symbols.

“I can’t believe you don’t like meat, Sammy,” you groan after swallowing the delicious bite.

“I do like meat. I just don’t treat it like it’s going out of style,” he says in disgust as you and Dean scarf down your food.

“More for us,” Dean says with his mouth full.

It’s all smiles and jokes now until you get a glimpse at the TV. On the news is a headline stating there has been another body. However, it’s all the way across the fucking country. All the deaths so far have been in Texas, so why is there a new one in Virginia?

“Guys, look,” you state once your mouth is clear of food.

All heads turn to the TV and you turn it up.

“FBI officials have stated that the recent deaths in Texas may be linked to the newest one. Authorities haven’t commented on what’s been going on, but that doesn’t stop the public from speculating. There are a bunch of questions still left to be answered, so all we can do now is wait. Jim, back to you,” the female reporter states.

“Why are they targeting people in Virginia now?” you wonder.

“Maybe we’ve been looking at this wrong. Maybe it’s not the town they are interested in, but the people,” Castiel says.

“Let’s hope that by the time we get there the FBI hasn’t already contaminated the crime scene. I may act like one, but they are the real dicks,” you scoff.

“I can get us there in a few seconds if you prefer,” Castiel stands up.

“That’s one of the very few good things about you,” you smile. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” Dean declares.

Dean made Castiel bring baby along since he didn’t want to be thousands of miles away from her. It was a lot harder to conceal a big fucking car as it appears out of thin air, but Castiel picked a good spot to go to. The crime scene isn’t that far from where you are, and you’re thankful you got dressed in your FBI get up before leaving. You know you’ll be here for the rest of the night, so you went online and bought two rooms at a small hotel that’s near the crime scene. One for you and the other one for your brothers. Castiel doesn’t need one since he doesn’t sleep. It’s best to think ahead.

Dean rushes over to the crime scene which is thankfully still intact. A handful of FBI agents are still inside, but it looks like most of the general population has lost interest. There is only one standard FBI car in the driveway, so you’re not too worried about having to trick only a few of them. Your surrogate dad is only a phone call away if these guys question who you are. You get out of the car and make your way inside.

“When I said that the FBI are dicks, I forgot to mention hot because damn, he is fine,” you whistle lowly to your eldest brother when you spot a very attractive agent in the room.

He has brown curly hair that looks a little messy, but a put-together messy. He’s very tall but not as tall as Sam. He’s probably the same height as Dean. You can’t hear what he saying to his fellow agents, but you can hear the sound of his voice. It’s not deep at all, but it does make your knees weak. You have never seen a more perfect human being on this planet. If things go south, then you’ll be sure to protect him.

“Keep it in your pants, sister,” Dean grumbles just as one of the agents noticed the newcomers.

“Who are you?” a black man asks as he reaches for his gun.

He, the very attractive man, and a petite blonde woman all stare at you, the angel, and your brothers.

“This is a closed crime scene,” the blonde woman says.

“We’re agents Barry Young, Frank Bartley, Madison Grey, and Jason Brown. We’ve been sent here to check out the crime,” you state and show them your badges as does everyone else.

“We weren't informed of another team coming down here. You mind if I speak to your supervisor?” the black man asks.

“Sure,” you say and hand him Bobby’s card.

He takes it and steps off to the side.

“Who are you guys?” you ask.

“I’m Jennifer Jareau, that’s Derek Morgan, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re from the BAU right here in Quantico” the blonde says.

“Ooh, the cute one has a cute name. And he’s a doctor,” you grin.

“Excuse me?” Spencer stutters.

“You’ll have to excuse her. She can’t seem to put a cork in it,” Dean chuckles.

“What?” you scoff and turn to Spencer with a sweet smile. “So, what are you a doctor for?”

“It’s PhDs, actually. Three of them, not a medical one.”

“So, if I collapsed right here and now, you wouldn't give me mouth-to-mouth?” you pout teasingly.

“I know CPR,” he mutters and you just smirk.

“You’re cute when you blush,” you comment and turn to Jennifer. “I hope he’s not your boyfriend.”

“No, I’m married,” she chuckles.

“Do you have a girlfriend, doctor?” you ask.

“No,” he chuckles.

“This must be my lucky day then,” you grin.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he states.

“Then I guess I’ll have to work extra hard for your attention.”

“I don’t know who you guys think you are, but you’re not FBI,” Derek says when he steps back into the room.

Both Jennifer and Spencer tense when they realize you’re pretending to be FBI agents.

“That’s a federal offense, do you realize that?” he says with a hard glare.

“Look, we can explain,” Dean starts to say.

However, every single light in this house turned off, shrouding you eight in complete darkness. The only light available is coming from the moon outside.

“Are there more of you?” Derek demands to know and takes out his gun.

“They’re here,” Castiel says.

“The demons? Why?”

“I’m not sure. We’re on their territory.”

“Okay, listen,” you turn to the real FBI agents. “We’re not FBI, but we are going to save your life if you listen to what we say. These bodies that have been turning up are because demons are carving Enochian symbols on these people’s chests. We don’t know why, but they’re up to something big. So, for your safety, listen to what we say,” you explain quickly.

“Like hell we’re taking orders from you,” Jennifer growls.

“Castiel,” a demon says from the corner of the room where the body is. “Surprised to see you here.”

“You’re carving Enochian symbols. Of course, I’d be here.”

“Where did he come from?” Derek demands.

“Okay, we need to go. Please, just follow me,” you urge and grab Spencer and Jennifer’s wrists.

You drag both agents to the door but stop short when another demon pops up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he chuckles and walks inside.

“This battle is between you and me. Let them go,” you glare.

“I don’t think so,” he growls.

He clenches his right hand into a fist, and your throat starts to close up. He raises you off the ground using his demonic powers, and you have no choice but to take it.

“You see, we have a few more people to claim as our own, but I can see you brought us some toys to play with,” he grins maliciously.

“How is he doing that?” Spencer whispers to his colleagues.

“Go to hell,” you bite back.

“Been there, done that. But I’ll send you,” he laughs and throws you across the room and into the dining room table.

“Leave her alone!” Spencer yells and raises his gun at the man. He shoots him in the head, but it does nothing. The host inside the body is already dead. “What the hell?”

The demon uses his powers to lift all three people and throw them in the same direction as you. They collide with the wall in a loud thump.

“No!” you grunt and force yourself to your feet.

“What the hell is that?” Derek yells.

“A demon! I wasn’t lying before. They’re here for the body. My brothers and I are hunters. We deal with this shit all the time. Come on, follow me!” you urge and help them up.

They don’t argue with you after seeing what just happened. You lead them to the kitchen and rummage through the cabinets until you see the salt. You grab a few containers and gather the agents to the middle of the room. You begin to pour a circle around their feet despite them yelling at you to tell them what’s going on.

“Just stay in here! Do not pass over the salt line. They can’t get you in here. I promise,” you beg.

“That’s not going to stop me from getting to them,” the same demon grins from the door.

“Dean!” you yell.

“We’re kind of busy!” he shouts back, but the shout turns int a groan at the end.

There must be more demons now than the two that showed up.

You reach behind you to take out Ruby’s knife since you’re the one who holds onto it. Your dad trained your brothers how to shoot guns, and he trained you how to fight with a knife. You know how to shoot guns, but your specialty is knives, so Sam trusted you with Ruby’s knife. You barely have a grip on the handle when the demon flings you across the room and into some cabinets. You feel something pierce your side, and you look back to see the knife block containing the kitchen knives have fallen. One fell right int your side, but you have to ignore the pain if you’re going to help the agents. Spencer starts to move out of the circle, but you put your left hand up to stop him.

“No! Don’t leave the circle!” you yell and yank out the knife.

“I can make you come out, you know,” the demon chuckles as his eyes turn pitch black.

“Get the hell away from them!” you yell.

You grab one of the kitchen knives and throw it at the demon. It lands right in the middle of his back, and he just sighs and turns to you. You grab some paper towels and press them against your wound, using the waistband of your pants to keep it in place. Spencer’s eyes widen when he sees the man isn’t affected by the knife in his back. You reach for Ruby’s knife and reveal it, twirling it in your hands.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you grunt.

Your wound is bleeding profoundly, but you’ve lost more blood than this and still could fight. You’re going to be okay.

“I wasn’t trying to, but maybe I should,” he growls.

He runs at you, and you swipe the knife across his arm as you pass by him. He yells out in pain, but that only makes him angrier. You almost slide right into the salt circle, but Spencer reaches out to stop you before you had a chance to ruin it. Without saying anything else, you charge at the demon once more and pounce on his back. He struggles to get you off him, but you’re not in the mood to play games. You swing the knife right into his chest, and he cries out in pain. His entire skeleton glows bright orange as he dies, and he collapses to the ground like dead weight.

“Dean!” you yell.

“We’re okay. We took care of them. One of them got away with the body, but the rest are dead,” he says as he, Sam, and Castiel walk into the kitchen.

“You guys came come out now,” you whisper as you fall back into the kitchen table.

Spencer rushes over to you and lifts up your shirt to see your blood staining the paper towels.

“We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No. There are too many dead bodies here. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re bleeding out, Madison.”

“My name is Y/N Winchester. It’s only fair that you know,” you cough.

“Come here,” Dean says and helps you sit on the table.

“Is she going to be okay?” Jennifer asks.

“I’ll heal her,” Castiel says and walks over to you.

He presses two fingers to your forehead, and your wound disappears. Your side is only bloody from your blood, but the wound is gone. Spencer, Derek, and Jennifer back away slowly.

“That’s not possible,” she says.

“It is. You’ve just been living inside a bubble for your entire lives. You deal with serial killers and human predators. We deal with the supernatural and monsters. We’re not so different. Those were demons and they’ve carved angelic symbols into the victim’s chests. Castiel is an angel. Monsters do exist, but you don’t have to worry about that because we take care of it. I’m sorry we brought the battle to you,” you reveal.

“What are we going to tell Hotch?” Derek asks his team.

“Tell him or don’t. I wouldn’t. The supernatural isn’t something that needs to be broadcasted. If people find out, then they panic, and panic and chaos are made for monsters. People become vulnerable. If you want to know more about how you can help or if you want to determine if your case is human or not, then we’ll tell you more, but leave the supernatural to us.”

“Come on, we got to go,” Dean urges.

“I’ll take care of the bodies,” Castiel says and touches the dead one on the kitchen floor.

He disappears with the body and all three agents jump back from shock.

“I’ll be right there,” you say to your brothers.

“Good luck with this one,” he scoffs at Spencer before taking his leave with Sam.

“I need to call Hotch anyway and tell him why we’re going to be late,” Derek says and leaves as well.

“I’m going to go with him,” Jennifer smiles and exits the kitchen so it’s just you and Spencer now.

“It’s a shame that I won’t have more time trying to woo you, but here’s my number. Call me whenever you’re curious,” you say and hand him one of your cards.

“I can’t believe this is all real.”

“Believe it gorgeous. The world is a scary place. You know this because humans are ruthless. Monsters are worse. Don’t let it get to you.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I could walk. Don’t waste your tears on me. My family is all sorts of messed up, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t want to see a frown line on that pretty face.”

“Okay,” he chuckles.

“Damn, you really have it all. Great hair, gorgeous eyes, and a stunning smile. You must get all the ladies.”

“It’s less than you think.”

“Well, official count me as one. We have more hunts to do, but we are spending the night in this town. It’d be a shame if I didn’t get to say goodbye to you properly. I’ll be having my own room away from my brothers. I’d hate to spend it alone,” you flirt.

“That’s good to know,” he chuckles nervously.

“I know we just met, but I’d beat myself up if I didn’t do this,” you say.

You grab his cheeks and pull him down to you, placing your lips over his. It’s not weird for you to kiss someone you just met. Meeting guys in bars and playing pool with them does have its advantages. Apparently, this isn’t something new with Spencer because as soon as your lips touched his, his whole demeanor changed. He grips your hair in his hands and kisses you with passion. He doesn’t know why he’s behaving this way to a woman he just met, but there has been fire between you two ever since your initial contact.

His lips move smoothly over yours, and you open your mouth to grant his access. His tongue slips in for a brief moment before you pull away. There are about two inches of space between you two, and you look into his lust-blown eyes.

“You really know how to kiss,” you whisper.

“That’s not the only thing I know how to do.”

“Please come to my hotel room. I bet I can get my brothers to stay an extra day. I’m staying at the Suburban Extended Stay Hotel room 318. Do you need me to write it down?”

“No, I got it,” he shakes his head.

“Then I’ll be waiting,” you smirk and lean up to his ear to whisper to him. “Bring your handcuffs.”

You pull away from him with a wink and leave the kitchen. He doesn’t know who you are, but he likes the kind of woman you are. He normally doesn’t go out with women like you, but there is something exciting inside you. He’s definitely going to visit you tonight, and he’s definitely going to make sure you remember him well after you two have already parted ways.

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 3 years

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A Tribute to Supernatural (LONG post ahead)

Well, today is the day. The day I have struggled with for the past year or so, the inevitable. The day the last episode of Supernatural was going to air on television. I never thought I’d be writing about this, about how much this show has meant to me, but with today being the day another chapter in all our lives comes to a close, I feel like I owe it to the cast and crew and to all of you, to make this post. So here it goes.

I haven’t been in the fandom for too long, about two-and-a-half years now. I’ll never forget my anniversary date: May 20th. That was the day that changed my life forever. I know, sounds pretty cliché but it’s the truth. I remember that day very vividly, too. I had gone on a bus trip with my family, out to stay at a casino about an eight-hour drive with my family. It was rather a fun time and I remember on our way back home; I was searching through Netflix for a new series to start, and Supernatural had popped up. I hesitated trying it again, because I had previously watched the first episode of the first season, and it absolutely freaked me out. I had tried to watch the second episode after that but couldn’t make it halfway through. After much deliberation with my friends on Facebook, who had been fans for quite a long time at that point, had told me to just push through and keep watching because it got better. So, with an eight-hour drive ahead of me, I figured I’d start it again and really give it time. Little did I know, that was the day that I would hold close to my heart forever. And of course, my friends were pleased to have heard I was giving it another chance because they knew I’d love it; they were right.

Fast forward to today, and this show is way more than just a show to me. It’s become a way for me to connect with people, complete strangers in most cases, but it’s become a safe place. Sure, I’ve had my share of negative people or “bullies” if you want to call them that, but none of that would stop me from talking or sharing anything about the show. Then, I got more invested in the cast and who they were outside of the show. I never realized how important they would become to me too, but they really have and they’ve become like a distant family. Granted, I’ve only met a lot of the cast just once, but the connection they give us, whether through the characters of the show, or the small glimpse into their personal lives they give us, just makes you feel like you’re apart of something bigger. And they never let you think that they don’t care. Of course, they don’t really know me, just like I really don’t know them, yet they have a way to make all of us feel like we’re tied together somehow, and it’s beautiful.

Like I’ve previously stated, I have met quite a few members of the cast (see photos above). My first Supernatural convention was one of the greatest experiences I’ve ever had. It had been several years since a convention was set up in Texas but when they announced there was going to be one in the Dallas area, I knew I had to be there. The show had already made that much of a difference to me, under a year. 2019 was the year I graduated from university and I wanted to do something really special to celebrate such a big accomplishment. What did I choose to do? Celebrate with the Supernatural family of course! When I began buying tickets, it was scary yet exciting. I, unfortunately, didn’t get a photo with Jensen because they had sold out already, three months before the event was going to take place (hence the photo with a poster of Jensen). I bought the photo with Jared and was extremely nervous about that photo more than any others. I still really don’t have a solid answer as to why I was so scared to meet him but I usually say because he’s so freaking tall, it’s kind of intimidating, and the fact that I had built such a high pedestal for Sam in my mind, that I was afraid I would disappoint myself seeing Jared, but none of that happened.

Getting to go to a Supernatural convention is extremely difficult. It’s so unbelievably expensive, I still can’t believe I’m trying to go a second time (if COVID would just CHILL) but the experience as a whole, is what does it for me. If you go as I did, I went for the entire weekend because I didn’t want to miss a single minute of all the excitement that was building from Creation Entertainment or the fans who were going to. Actually, it turns out, that a few of the friends I made via social media, were going to be there that weekend too, so we made plans to meet up in person; and we did! The fans are what really makes the convention's special. Because we all have one thing in common and we all can share our experiences and laugh or cry with each other. It’s a community I’ve never been apart of before, but that’s what makes it so special. The fandom has, mostly, been very generous to me. Offering up advice on what to expect when going to the convention and advice on meeting everyone. Most of the advice came about meeting Jared and it turned out everyone was right.

Jared Tristan Padalecki is one GIANT teddy bear! So many people described him that way to me but once you get to see him up close, it’s nothing like you imagine. He is HUGE and it is kind of scary with that floating over your head, but when you walk up to him, he smiles so wide at you and is so happy to see you. For me, I went right in for a hug, wrapping my arms around his waist and his around my back or so. It was brief but I felt so safe just being that close to him for that small amount of time. And then my op, is my friend is supposed to be sad that I’m hugging Jared and not her. We weren’t prepared too much on how we were going to pose, but I remember Jared had reached out for my friend to be closer to him in the photo but she said that she was supposed to be over here for the pose. I remember too, Jared grabbing me and wrapping his arm around me, right under my neck, somewhat close to my boobs (no, he didn’t touch them, even by accident) and I responded by bringing my arms up to hold onto him too, then the photo was taken. I made sure I was smiling and had no idea how Jared looked, but I think he looks absolutely adorable smiling like he was. And when I went to walk away, I looked up at him, looked into those beautiful eyes, and thanked him for the photo and being there that weekend. He smiled at me and rubbed my back just briefly, but I felt heat rise in the place he touched. Other fans too, commented how happy he looked, when I went to pick up my photo on the table that held all the freshly printed photos. I was really happy with how it turned out but I kind of wished we planned it better. This second con, if I get to go, will be a lot better because I’ll have a photo with Jensen and two with Jared, and I’ve already come up with the poses for those three ops.

Ultimately, this show and the community of fans, has really gotten me through a lot. Recently too, life has been pretty difficult for me, but I always just look at my phone to see my wallpaper of me and Jared, and that makes me feel a lot better. I’ve invested so much time and effort into this show, that I can’t imagine a world where it no longer exists. I don’t believe everything we’ve built as a fandom is going away, it’s just going to look a lot different.

I’ve had my own fears for how this day was supposed to come. And it was supposed to originally end much earlier in this year but because it got delayed, the final filming, it brought me a small bit of relief because it meant I got to hold on to Sam and Dean just a little longer. But now that this day is here, I am grateful for all it’s brought me; happiness and a sense of family. I’ve worried too much about how we are all going to carry on without new episodes coming on. Will everyone end up forgetting the show? Will it still be as important to people as it is right now? Will all the merchandise disappear? Will conventions still be going, if they get picked up again? How will people see Jensen and Jared now that they have separate plans? Will they lose fans after the last episode ends? Will we still mean as much to them now as we did at the start of it all? What is the future going to hold for Sam and Dean? So many questions plague my thoughts and have ever since Jensen, Jared and Misha announced season 15 was going to be the last one. But I guess that’s all just a part of the life cycle of a show. And maybe all of these questions will have answers tonight, maybe they won’t. Only time will tell.

All in all, I am so incredibly proud of everyone who was involved in that show. They worked incredibly hard to bring these characters to life every week and they gave us a wonderful fifteen-year run. A lot can happen in fifteen years, and it has, for all of us. No one is the same person they were fifteen years ago; I know I was a child and now I’m all grown up. To try and put into words what this show has meant to me, wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, but my level of gratitude to everyone isn’t as easy. I feel like thank you, just isn’t enough. The cast and crew deserve way more than just a thank you and that’s why I’m writing this. But the biggest debt I owe is to Jensen and Jared and everyone who was at the sets from the very beginning. I know it must’ve been difficult, being away from family members as often as you were, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. Thank you to Eric for creating this show and this community. For sharing an insight into the thoughts that roam around your head and bringing them to life. For gifting us with Sam and Dean Winchester, two of the most beloved characters I think anyone has ever seen. I can just see years from now, people talking about the ‘greatest television shows of all time’ and I imagine that Supernatural will be on that list, if not at the top. I hope someone not only talks about the show itself but about the fans and the dedication we have to a storyline so unique as this one. To all the writers, y’all have made me laugh and cry and cheer for the good guys. There have been breathtaking highs and heartbreaking lows throughout the years but what a ride! Never have I been this invested in a tv show before, but as my Supernatural Day 2019 shirt says “possessed and obsessed.”

Finally, to the Supernatural fans, I love you all so much. There isn’t another group of people I would want to have as friends to cope with this ending. I know it’s been hard on all of us, having to accept the end, but we’ve gotten this far, so let’s bring it home. Let us be the ones to carry on the “family business.” We can carry the lessons that the Winchesters taught us and we can be the ones who won’t ever let them be forgotten. It is a privilege to have walked this journey this far and I hope to walk through to the end, together as a family. I want this to hold a special place in your heart years from now, as it will mine. Never forget what this show, this family, the cast and crew have meant to you. It can be easy to forget something that is no longer right in your face but keep the memories close to your heart, forever.

Let’s kick this ending in the ass and come together to support each other in this difficult time. And, as a few people have mentioned, carry on wayward son (and daughters) there will be peace when you are done.

#supernatural #supernatural 15 years #supernatural season 15 #supernatural family #supernatural series finale #Jensen Ackles #Jared Padalecki #Misha Collins #alex calvert #supernatural family forever

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kickingitwithkirk · 4 years

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Happy Coincidence Chance Discovery

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Piper, Jared Padalecki x Piper,

Characters: Dean Winchester /Jensen Ackles, mentions of Chad Michael Murray

Word Count:4367

Warnings: cursing, kissing, nudity, implied sex/genital fondling/teasing

*Jared and Jensen are single.

A/N: for @idreamofplaid Thanks for the Memories Challenge #plaid and the memories HAPPY BIRTHDAY JARED🎉

Prompt: Season 11, episode 4, Baby

A/N: Baby is my favorite episode but every time I’ve watched it I kept wondering; Sam’s hook up with Piper the waitress? So this is my fill in that blank with a Jared twist.

Divider: created by @writeyourmindaway

*No beta all mistakes are mine

Dean drives into the parking lot of a roadhouse just after dusk and Sam looks at the marquee shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are you serious? Dean, it's late, I’m exhausted and..and.. and starving. And this place. I mean, even Swayze wouldn't come to this roadhouse.” Sam groused.

“First of all, never use Swayze’s name in vain, okay. Ever.” Dean chastises his brother for such a sacrilege, “Second, you don't remember this place? You don't remember Heather, the hunter we worked the wendigo case a couple years ago?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam partially smiles, remembering that night of fun.

“Yeah, exactly” Dean taking the same trip down memory lane.

“What, she’s here tonight?” Sam asks, perking up a bit.

“I texted her, she's working a rugaru case in Texas.” Dean says.

“Actually, she never texted me back. That's not the point, the point is that we have a ton of driving left to do just to go to a town where it's not probably a case.” Dean points ahead, “But in there, good times.”

“Uh...” Sam hedges looking at the building.

“But time heals all wounds, especially good times. What do ya say?” Dean looks at his brother hopeful.

“I say... knock yourself out.” Sam answers with his usual reply and Dean looks away, “I'm gonna find a diner and dig into the lore like Cas did, see if anythings ever happened where we’re headed.”

“Ah man, you really got to learn to have fun.” Dean’s reply was full of disappointment in his little brother.

“Seriously. It’s pathetic.”

They both climb out of the Impala. Sam grabs his bag from the backseat and starts walking back towards town as Dean heads into the roadhouse.

***

Sam had walked over a mile looking for somewhere to eat. Being Saturday night he thought there’d be more open but that’s small town living, the streets roll up at noon on the weekends.

He was about to give up and hike back to that mom & pop gas station he passed for a microwave burrito, preferably bean to get back at Dean, when he happened upon a small, local place, Mak’s Diner.

Hitching his bag up, he pushed open the door expecting the usual greasy spoon Dean's unerring sense navigates towards and stops just inside the front door.

It was an older establishment, obviously one of those passed down from generation to generation places but to his surprise it was well maintained, despite the C on the marquee being burnt out.

“Evening, have a seat anywhere and I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice called out from the kitchen. Sam walked past the counter smiling at only other occupants, an elderly couple having coffee and dessert, heading towards the back where family seating was located.

As he passed the next to last booth he noticed a closed laptop, several open books with notes scrawled around their margins, highlighted paragraphs and a few notebooks scattered on its tabletop.

He dropped the bag on the seat and shed his jacket before sliding into the booth, fishing out his laptop and the legal pad that he had started making more notes on earlier.

“Hey there, what can I get you?”

Picking up the menu laying by his elbow Sam glances through it, “Coffee and the Cobb salad, thanks.” He orders closing the menu and looking up to hand it to the waitress. She is differently not what he would have expected to find in a backwater burg like this one.

Her makeup is understated, nails painted a neutral color and her copper hued hair is pulled back in an elegant chiffon, not a high ponytail or hastily bobby pinned up-do, held in place with a real silver clip, the type that’s handed down as an heirloom.

“Just the Cobb salad?” She asked looking under the tabletop, taking in Sam’s long legs somewhat stretched out under it, boots bumping against the other side of the circular booth. Her blue/grey eyes slowly travel up appraising his body till they meet his.

“Big boys like you need more than a few leafy greens for stamina.”

Sam felt himself blushing like he was seventeen again. Waitresses blatantly flirt with Dean and vice versa all the time so he’s taken aback by this woman's more than blatant appraisal of his physique.

“I, um, yeah, ju..just the salad.” Sam stammers out.

“Okay, be back with that coffee.” Her smiles genuinely, not that faked for the customers sake one he’s used to.

Sam appraises her retreating figure like she did him. She’s not wearing the nurses white or black rubber soled shoes that’s usual waitress gear he’s seen but a brand of tennis shoes he knows are out of the typical income of career restaurant staff.

The fifties style, yellow uniforms color is completely unflattering, not fitting her right, way too tight around her bust and hips and far shorter than it should be, her mile long legs on display.

Sam shifts in his seat and tries to discreetly palm down his spontaneous erection but not so little Sam is putting up a fight, making it known it's been way too long since he’s gotten wet and he wants to enjoy her junoesque attributes.

***

While he is waiting for a page to load Sam hears the elderly couple preparing to leave. He watches as the husband helps his wife into her jacket and gently takes her hand, resting it in the crook of his arm as they slowly make their way to the exit, feeling the pang of loneliness that’s his constant companion.

“Mr. Reynolds’s, hang on a sec,” the waitress calls from the kitchen emerging with a white cake box tied shut, “Auntie wanted me to make sure you got this before leaving. She’s sorry she missed your anniversary party.”

“You tell her we missed her, needs to hurry up and get well.” Mrs. Reynolds remarked as her husband took the box with his free hand. She glanced back towards Sam, “Sweetie, you gonna be okay here with the likes of him?”

Sam kept his expression neutral, waiting to see how this plays out. He knew people found him intimidating because of his size and being a stranger in a small town, he definitely stands out but not many were that blatant about it.

“He ordered a Cobb salad, I think I can handle him,” she jested winking at him.

The couple bid her goodnight and she went back into the kitchen, Sam realizing they were now all alone. Sighing, he starts reading the info again trying to figure out what exactly their hunting is. Or not.

He was so focused on his research like usual he didn’t acknowledge the waitress standing there with his order.

“Kmm hmm,” Sam’s head snapped up, “must be something really good if you don’t notice the likes of me.” She chided him setting down a coffee decanter and cup.

“Sorry, guess I was kinda caught up.” Sam moves the laptop and notepad over as she sets down his salad and two types of dressing. “Figured you might not be a ranch type of guy so I grabbed the vinaigrette too.”

“Thanks, I prefer vinaigrette, don’t usually get offered it.”

“I’m pretty good at reading people which is why I also brought you this,” she set down another plate with a lettuce wrapped, curiously colored and, by the smell, not meat burger with all the fixings, a generous helping of baked sweet potato fries and a green colored milkshake.

“I didn’t order this.”

“I know but it cooks night off and I’m trying some new recipes. Seeing as you're the only other one here, you've been conscripted as my guinea pig.” She slid into the other side of his booth where an identical plate rested, “I wasn’t kidding about you needing more than just a salad. Besides, I hate eating alone, you wouldn’t believe how often it happens. Fuck, where’s my manners, I’m Piper.” She stuck her hand out across the table.

He takes her preferred hand amazed how it fits perfectly in his, “Sam.”

“So Sam, figure out what you're hunting yet?” She asked nonchalantly as she picked up her burger, “Cause, not being judgey, but that’s some really random shit you got there.” She takes a bite, watches as his expression bounces between startled and incredulous.

“How…”

“Saw your Tarsus 99 when you took off your jacket. I had one as a kid, then daddy got killed on a hunt and I got sent here to live with Auntie, she doesn’t cotton to hunting.”

Piper picked up a fry pointing it at him, “But what I really wanna know, where the hell did you get that demon blade, ‘cause I’ve never seen one like it before.”

Sam hesitates, “That’s a long story.”

“Don’t close till one and I’ve got nowhere to be after.”

Sam decides to deflect instead of answering. “So what is it you do, because you're definitely not a waitress.”

“Officially, I’m an antique appraiser. Unofficially, I’m helping a wayward hunter who graced my door with something he can’t figure out.”

***

Sam and Piper, after closing the diner, stayed another three hours hashing out the research for his case were now taking their time walking back towards the roadhouse.

“I’ve been wanting to ask, what’s with that name tag?” Sam noticed early it read Maggie.

“Came with this god awful uniform. Auntie insists that we all adhere to how her daddy ran the place. So when I came back to temporarily help out after her surgery, Maggie decided she was not gonna take orders from someone younger, quit and I got stuck with this. I told Auntie it wouldn’t fit, even with letting out the hem. Maggie was like five-four and I’m over five-ten!

Ugh! I keep popping these stupid top buttons and can’t freaking bend over without showing everyone my C U Next Tuesday.”

Sam smiled that nervous smile he got when unsure how to respond to an answer he wasn’t expecting.

“I normally wear this to cover it,” moving her pocketed hands in the light weight, knee length sweater she had put on when they left the diner, “but I have to confess,” Piper turned around, walking backwards, “I took it off when I saw you come in, thought what the hell, been long time since a really cute guy has walk through my door so...” She bit her lip, turning back around as they continued down the lane in companionable silence.

Sam mused over her confession admitting to himself he was interested in her too. He enjoyed sharing different theories and bouncing ideas of what they might be hunting back and forth with her, surprising him with her unique take on things.

Piper might not have been the type he consciously steered towards since Jess but she was comfortable to be around, didn’t feel his usual awkwardness he normally had around most women.

They arrived at the roadhouse a few minutes later and Sam led her towards the Impala.

“Damn, you brother is a fucking artist, how many times has he rebuilt her?” Piper asked walking around the car, running her hand over the Impalas pristine exterior.

“To many.” Sam replies, putting his bag on the front seat. “Can I have a look?” He turns to see Piper standing by the trunk. “Um, sure.” Strolling over he unlocks it and lifts the interior wheel well exposing the car's hidden armory.

“Is that a grenade launcher?”

“Yeah, Dean found it at the bunker.” Sam laughed remembering how excited Dean had been when he discovered it.

Piper shook her head shutting the trunk and hopped up on it, “What’cha wanna do now, go in,” gesturing at the bar, “or hang out here for a while longer?”

“I think I’m good hanging o...”

Piper grabbed his jacket dragging him between her spread legs and kissed him.

It took Sam all of five seconds to process what was happening before his hands grabbed her hips and tugged her to the edge of the trunk, her short skirt riding even higher as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer.

Sam jerked back as headlights flashing over them, a patrol car drove into the parking lot. He lifted Piper off the trunk and led her to the car's back door dragging the green cooler out of their way.

Piper climbed in as he hauled it to the trunk and grabs the army blanket Dean keeps then gets in depositing it and his jacket over the front seat.

“Where were we before being rudely interrupted?” Piper asked, sliding onto Sam’s lap and leaning in to resume kissing him.

Sam tangled his long fingers into her now loose hair pulling to halt her, “What about that patrolman?”

“Won’t be back till closing, around six A.M.”

“That means Dean won’t either,” he says closing the space between them, heatedly attacking her lips.

***

Piper ran her hand over his bare chest, “How long is your refractory period?”

Sam shifted to look down at her, “umm, around twenty minutes.”

“Hmmm, I’m gonna have to see what I can do to shorten that ‘cause we are so doing that more than once again.”

“And how are you gonna do that?”

Piper stared at him slowly trailing her hand down his torso. Sam’s breath hitched as she lightly teased her fingers across his lower stomach, running through his treasure trail and over to his hip.

Shifting further down his body she continued running her fingers over the top of his left thigh feeling the hard muscles flexing under the skin. She placed both of her hands in between his legs shifting his left one off the seat and bending his right leg back placing his foot flat on the bench seat.

Piper kneels in the space between Sam’s spread legs continuously moving her fingers in random patterns over the insides of both tights, touching him everywhere below his waist.

Sam closed his eyes groaning loudly, dropping his head back against the window as her fingers played over his balls feeling her other hand travel behind them teasing over his...

“You fell asleep in the fucking car!”

His eyes snapped open startled. Blinking rapidly he sees Dean leaning through the open car window looking at him.

“Dean what...where’s Piper?”

“What’s a Piper?” He growled out, “Dude, we wrapped twenty minutes ago and I’ve been looking for you, got worried cause you weren’t answering your fucking phone Jay!”

He took a good look at Dean. His foggy brain finally realizing its mistake, taking in the headset hanging around his neck and the ball cap he likes wearing when directing. “Jen, sorry, guess I’m still in Sam headspace, got disoriented for a sec.”

Jensen laughed, “You find one grey hair and suddenly you're getting memory loss and needing naps? I’ll have to remember to have you in bed by nine, old man.”

“Your fucking hilarious Jack.” Jared shoots back sliding across the seat getting out, “Man, I had the weirdest dream.”

“From the happy noises you were making that was far from weird. And speaking of happy,” Jensen's eyebrows went up as he pointedly looked down.

Jared glances down thinking he’s drooled all over himself only to see the prominent bulge in his jeans.

“Bob’s called a meeting in five but I think we’re gonna be late.”

***

“I’m telling you it was so real! She was tall with coppery blond hair, tasted like chocolate peppermint and has this tattoo above her...” Jared paused grinning, keeping that specific location to himself, “I’ve never in my life had such a vivid dream like that.”

“Dude, you like petite brunettes.”

“I know..so why would I make her a redhead?”

“Hell if I know, it’s your giant melon. Maybe all that sugar ribbon you eat is finally getting its revenge.” Jensen snarks as they enter the meeting room.

They were greeted by Bob’s gruff voice, “About time you two showed up. Alright, now that everyone is finally here, we need to get everyone up to speed. We’re having to make changes to the filming schedule.” He pauses looking at him notes, “Jared, don’t need you to come tomorrow for those new promo shots with, what was that new character again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, Sam’s new love interest.”

“Right, anyways, writers scraped that idea. As some of you heard, several of our exterior locations got flooded with that last storm and it’s taking time to find new locations so instead of doing blocking we're gonna do a quick read through of the new episode.”

Jared opened his copy of the new script to episode 4: Baby.

Reading the opening scene he experiences deja vu, quickly scanning the first two pages: bunkers garage: Dean washing the Impala, Sam having a possible case in Oregon. Next scene: interior shot Impala, Sam gets a protein shake out of cooler, Dean wants to know about the beer. Next scene: pulling in roadhouse parking lot, Dean trying to get Sam to join him, goes to eat instead, shot from Impala view watching Dean walking. Next scene: daybreak continuing from the view of the car...

“Fuck me.” Jared whispers, catching Jensen's attention. “What’s wrong?”

“This is how my dream started.”

Jensen pulls a yeah right face.

Jared shifted in his chair leaning closer to Jensen, looking directly into his green eyes, “I’ll prove it. Next scene: Dean gets in the car at daybreak and a naked waitress pops up in the backseat with a voice-over from Sam. Dean gets out peeping in the driver's side back window at her getting dressed. Cut to next scene: Sam climbs into front seat buttoning his flannel as he apologizes for having sex in Dean’s car. Dean, happy his brother finally got laid drives off quoting Bob Sager lyrics, playing Night Moves and Sam changing a lyric.

Jared continued to lay out the entire episode from memory as Jensen flips through the script following.

“Bullshit Jared, someone snuck you a copy of this script, you're totally fucking with me.”

“Jensen, not this time.”

***

Jared walked back to his trailer aggravated that Jensen won’t believe he didn’t get an advance peek of the script. He can’t shake this unsettling feeling that he was forgetting something important.

He was two steps into his trailer when his phone vibrated. Chad left a voicemail instead of texting, weird.

“Jay man, you gotta do me solid. A friend of mine got the part of Y/N on your show and I don’t know what the fucks happening up there but she flipped the fuck out on me! Need you to check on her, she’s outside one of the guest trailers. And have her call me back after she’s calmed the fuck down!”

Jared snorted, another woman pissed off at Chad, shocker. “The fuck you getting me into this time Murray.” Jared mutters to himself as he heads over to the guest stars trailers and hears a somewhat familiar voice outside of one.

“What do you mean there’s nothing you can do? I get here and now they're telling me they’ve dropped the story line.”

There was a pause in conversation as Jared walked closer to hear more clearly over the lot's noises and was shocked when he saw her sitting on one of the trailer's steps.

“But I signed a contract...what? I don’t remember seeing that in there. So they can just arbitrarily drop the part with no notification, that’s bullshit! I’ve never had a clause like that in one before. I gave up my job and apartment for this!” She gets up and paces around not noticing him.

“They're giving me the bit part of the waitress in this episode, have a five am call for hair, getting a blonde rinse so I look more like a Dean type girl. I don’t know what the fuck is with these writers, it’s like they don’t get Sam, should’ve left him like Kripke originally created him.” She paused, “paying me what? At scale! That’ll just cover my petrol for the drive back to L.A. Wait, what about my six month lease? Could you check on it.”

“Oh, giving me two nights at the Hilton. How magnanimous of them,” she sarcastically replies, “can I still get that part on Arrow...cast someone else.” She abruptly ends the call and sits back down on the step slumping over her knees.

“So, how much of that fucked up conversation did you overhear?” She asked not looking at him.

“Um, almost all of it.” Jared confesses, “I wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping but I got a voicemail from Chad,” she looked up staring in disbelief at Jared, “he’s worried and wanted me to check on you.”

“Fanfuckingtastic, can this day get any better? I’ve completely humiliated myself in front of Jared Fucking Padalecki!”

Jared can just make out her blushing in the still dimming light. “I wouldn’t say completely, I mean, you could drop your pants and yell Pudding.”

She blinked at him before doubling over in laughter, “Alright, point taken. Still, it’s a crock of shit you don’t need to be bothered with.”

“Chad’s kinda made it my problem. Look, I don't know all the details but maybe I can help, I can call casting..”

“Oh hell no! Thanks but no thanks. Bunch of assbutts on social media were already speculating about how someone like me got the part in the first place. Last thing I need is more ammo for the haters, they’ll tweet something like I had a three way with you and Ackles because I was desperate to get the part back.”

Jared cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair embarrassed to feel turned on by the imagery she conjured up in his mind.

“Mmm, that’d be my wet dream come true, but not the point, they’ll just come up with some random shit.”

Jared understood being all too familiar with the anti whatever’s having been the target himself.

“Okay, how about we go to my trailer,” she gave him a skeptical look, “where you can have some privacy to call Chad back. I’ll get de-Sam’d and we can talk some more or grab a bite if you're hungry.”

“You don’t know me from Adam, what if I’m some psychotic serial stocker nut job?”

“If your friends with Chad, you absofuckingloutley are Ms. what's your name.” Jared sarcastically remarks given her a mischievous grin.

“Touché, and it's Piper,” Jared froze at her name, “and you’ve been friends with Murry longer than me so I know you’re straight up batshit crazy.” She smarts back standing up, “lead on, oh gallant knight.”

***

Jared walked out of the bath toweling his wet hair sees Piper lounging on his couch still on the phone with Chad.

As he crossed over to the kitchen's fridge he couldn’t help but notice her low rise jeans had ridden lower, revealing the top half of the tattoo just above her..

“Dude, should’a told me Padalecki has a tattoo kink,” Jared tripped over his feet before catching himself embarrassed at getting caught, “Yeah, that was your boy.” She winked at him, “No way in hell I’m ever showing it to you perv.” Jared loudly laughs at that. “Hey, when I get back I’m PA’ing for you till I get another gig. Don’t you dare argue, you got me into this so it’s that or I’m on your couch for a month,” Piper rolled her eyes at Chad’s response, “Yeah, yeah, talk to you later.”

“Is that how you met Chad, working as a PA?” Jared inquired coming over to sit down next to Piper handing her a beer.

“Yeah, paid the bills while doing auditions, was starting to pick up a few bit parts around LA.” Piper starts nervously fiddling with the bottles label, “I heard about the casting call for a new Sam girl and Murry talked me into trying out for it, so I figured unless I kiss Crowley I don’t have a shot in hell and holy fuck, I got it.”

She stopped talking but kept playing with the label.

“Hey, whatever it is you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Jared says gently touching her shoulder in a reassuring manner.

She took a long pull of her beer before continuing. “My Auntie died and I inherited everything, including her debts. I negotiated a smaller settlement but it wiped out all my savings.” She paused draining the rest of her bottle. “I figured it was serendipity..”

Jared is half listening, feeling that uneasy sensation again at that last word.

“...gonna be Sam Winchester’s...”

“If we’re meant to meet again,”

“.. weren’t killing her off after three episodes but then they decided to drop that story line...”

“we will.”

“...I should be going. Thanks for the beer and letting bending your ear, I’m gonna get out of your hair.” Piper gets up heading for the door.

Jared finally remembers.

“I believe in serendipity..maybe you can too.”

He quickly jumped up moving between her and the door blurting out, “I know you said you didn’t want my help but you can’t go, not yet.”

“Okay, why not? ‘Cause any other time I’d be up for some wham bam thank you ma’am but so not in the mood right now.”

Taking a deep breath he goes for it, “So, get this, after we finished filming today, I fell asleep in the Impala and had this dream…”

***

Jared sat on the couch nervously chewing on his thumb watching as Piper paces back and forth mulling over his story.

She abruptly stopped and sat down on the table in front of him. “So here's the deal, I will believe everything you've told me,” Jared opens his mouth to say something but Piper reached out laying her fingers on his lips, “if you can answer one question.”

Jared took her hand remembering how it felt so right in his, “Okay.”

“Since you’ve seen it in your dream, what does my tattoo mean?”

“In Japanese, it means happy coincidence,” Jared confidently says sitting back as Piper climbs onto his lap, “but that's the first line, the second one is chance discovery.”

Jared pulls her in, brushing his lips against hers, running his tongue across them so she’ll part them , allowing him access. He can taste the beer they’ve been drinking but there’s that sumptuous flavor of her underneath he finds intoxicating..chocolate peppermint..thinking to himself..

Serendipity.

#plaid and the memories #Baby #sam winchester x piper #jared padalecki x piper #SPN Supernatural #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #Jensen Ackles

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