#and then cas and michael are slowly coming around to what they have in common just bc jack gives them like an olive branch

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Beauty Sleep

Marvel and Supernatural bingo

Square:Sleeping Beauty

Castiel x Archangel!Reader

Warning?: Reader seems bad, Twist on Sleeping Beauty/Snow White, Poisoning, Wicked Father,ect.

A/n: [This text is a memory]

Tag: @thisismysecrethappyplace

The loud clap of a book dropping on the table startled the brothers for their own research. "What the hell,Cas." The eldest said more then likely woken up for his half sleep mind set. "I found it." He said as he pointed to the thick book.

"Found the weapon that can restore balance." He explained further causing them to grow intrigued. It was the weapon they were looking for that could keep Angels in heaven,demons in hell,and other supernatural in purgatory. The one thing that can fix everything."Perfect where do we get it?" Sam asked as he pulled the book three times thicker then the largest dictionary towards him. "Where do we find her you mean." Castiel said making the Winchester's look at him confused.

Dean cleared his throat and dragged his hand down his face. "Her? The weapon is a person?!" He asked. "Not exactly. She was the first Archangel made by both God and Amare. Legend has it she's more powerful then both of them she could create life with ease and equally wipe it without so much as a single thought. Because of this she had to be put to rest." The angel explained further.

"If she's so powerful how is she "put to rest" can't she wake herself up?" Dean asked as he looked over his brother's shoulder at the book. "Apparently her prison has hex symbols that takes away and returns her grace in a constant loop to keep her weak yet alive." The younger brother explained pointing out the drawing of the three symbols on the page. "So a real life sleeping beauty? Sweet! I always fit the role of prince charming ya know?" Dean said cockily posing victoriously.

The angel rolled his eyes. "There's a catch,Dean. It says once we break those symbols all of heaven and hell will feel it. The creations that she made will hunt her down...all things supernatural will come for her,but once she's back in full power she'll be able to cloak herself." Cas said as he paced slightly. If she was a powerful as legend had it she could fix it all for them. "Her creations? She made the monsters we hunt?! I thought that was Eve." Dean exclaimed as he ran a hand through his hair. "That's a common misconception the apple she ate gave he knowledge that only three beings knew. That special apple was made from her grace." That's when the angel paused as his words raked over him. "Her garden was never just a place it was her prison."

"The garden of Eden. What's this Angel's name?" Sam asked as he flipped through the book and tried to find a name,but all he saw was angel of light and darkness,the perfect balance. "God was nice enough to name it after her. Eden the first Archangel,but she's gone by many names before." He said.

Dean looked at the book with Sam. "Where do we find the magical garden? No book supernatural or not ever gave a location." The eldest asked and it was a good question. "The garden never stays in the same place for to long it moves often. One day it could be in a forest the next in a mountain." Cas said with a sigh it was impossible to find the prison with out a bit of her grace to track the source.

"Her grace is strong even a little can help us. Even if a millennia has gone by and it's became one with the elements it can help." Cas explained. "Cain" The name fell from Dean's lips as he numbly rubbed where the mark once was. "Cain is the son of Adam and Eve. Eve had that grace in her system she must have pasted it to him!" With that the boys packed up and were heading to Cains house to use him as a tracking device. The day long drive dragged on and with those time Sam continued to ask questions.

Most of the questions the angel had no answer to until one made him freeze up. "How did it happen in the first place? Was she casted out of heaven like Lucifer?" The younger Winchester asked. "I think Chuck poisoned her. She was like Lucifer she questioned a lot of things it was a new angelic trait, curiosity, except she loved all creatures and things Chuck made so when he makes something new she was the first to see and that was the last time any angel has seen her." The vivid memory came to mind.

The giggle of the young fledglings filled the air. A girl with H/c hair dragged a younger version of himself around. "My little raven come look! Father has created such beautiful things." She said as she showed him the flowers in her hand each different from the other. "What are they called?" He asked tilting his head. "Father said I can name them,but I can't think of anything...come help me plant them on earth there we can name them!" She said using her three pairs of large F/c wings to bring them to earth before humans were even thought about.

The soil on the ground was dark and it was vastly different from the sand surrounding it. With gentle hands she planted all of the flowers and together the angels named them. "Hmmm..." The girl hummed. "What is it Y/n?" He asked her. "We need something to keep them growing in numbers, raven." She said using a stick to draw on the dirt. "What should it look like?" Y/n asked him as she was going to go to her father to create it.

"Um...give it wings and make it the color of those sunflower over there." Castiel suggested. The drowning at took a couple tries,but as the kept adding and removing things they got what they wanted. Without realizing that the archangel just made multiple winged creatures on a whim and she wasn't even trying. God saw it all a d it scared him,but he couldn't do anything about it when his sister along with his other archangels would be there to stop him. He had to wait.

Three mil past and the two children grew bigger and she grew stronger. The small patch has turned into a garden of various plants that were only found in different climates around the world. Together they went there everyday even more often after the imprisonment of Amara and Lucifer along with the disappearance of Gabriel. Michael was busy trying to keep order after the two archangels left so it was his chance. Chuck called his daughter to see another one of his inventions,but that time was so much different from the others. Afterwards she didn't comeback she was never seen in heaven again and on that day a tree taller then any other in that garden with apples of pure gold grew.

The garden of Eden disappeared after Eve ate the forbidden fruit and it wasn't ever seen again by man,angel,nor demon knew of it location. Cas lost his friend and he knew it was god that did it even if he was suppose to be a loyal soldier he couldn't when he knew that the father of creation so willingly got rid of his most prized pupil what would he do to all the underlings.

Hours have past they stand in Cains living room. "Cain we don't need much from you just some of your blood that's all." Cas said as Dean explained what for. It took some convincing,but he agreed and bleed into a vile. "You guys better stop this apocalypse before shit hits the fan." He said as he shut them back out of his house. Sam handed the vile to Cas. "Now what do we do?" He asked the angel. Without saying a word he pulled something from his pocket a old looking compass. "Rowan taught me a location spell all I need to do is..." Pouring the small amount of blood on the glass of the compass and spoke in Latin causing the red substance to disappear. "...follow the arrow." Cas finished.

The arrow spinner rapidly as it settled on the strongest pull of the grace. "Looks like we're heading west. We have a estimated week before it changes course so off we go." Cas said as they all went back to the car. Keeping his eyes trained on it a small smile formed on his lips. "I'm coming N/n." He whispered to himself. Almost five thousand miles away a the unmoving body had a shocking pull of her lip at the mention of her name if only that could have woken her up for her comatose state.

It's been three days on the road and the impala had to come to a stop a thick treeline stopped them. The dirt road turned into a hiking trail and they had no choice,but to go on foot. Together they hiked up the trail blindly following the arrow through the woods. "Cas what are we suppose to be looked for?" Sam asked as he stepped over a fallen tree branch. "The closer we get the more exotic the plants and animals will be. Also be careful some of the wild life is experimental." The angel warned causing the brothers to freeze. "What do you me by experimental? Are we going to see a truducken?!" Dean asked jokingly as he looked around.

A loud snarling noise caused him to pull out his gun and look around. "More like human eating plants and venomous insects." This made Sam tense and stick closer to a still walking Castiel and Dean to cautiously does the same looking at each and every plant close by. "What is this fucking Jumanji?!?! Everything can kill us." Dean said keeping his gun up and ready to fire. "Oh, that was the name of the movie. Yeah those types of movies were based off of what explores experienced when getting to close to the garden." The blue eyed angel said with a shrug.

In a clearing they all look with widened eyes at the land before them. Flowers of all types with various animals and inserts. They watched in wander at everything creatures they've never seen or never insisted out of the garden. Everything was in bloom even though it was mid fall. There was a clear gravel path cutting off between the forest and wonderland in front of them.They wandered around since it became more difficult to find where the pull was unclear. "She won't be in plain sight she'll be hidden well. Look for something that doesn't quite match the rest. Trees of all kinds surrounded the area,but it was Sam who noticed the sand that mirrored a sky full of stars. He slowly followed it till it grew thick into a sanded path.

The youngest Winchester had his eyes trained down so when he looked up the apple tree before his eyes took his breath away. It looked straight out of a child's most imaginative fantasy. A white trunk with red leaves and the most noticeable feature the solid gold apples on it's branches. Sam didn't hear the voices of his brother or friend as he stepped closer directly under one of the low hanging fruits. Reaching up he picked the ripe fruit his brown eyes glazed over by temptation and curiosity. "SAM DON'T EAT THAT THAT!!!" Cas yelled using his grace to stop him mid bite. The angel looked in horror at the item in his hand a dark purple almost black apple sat in his friend's hands.

To anyone mortal it looked beautiful with it golden exterior,but Cas could see the ugly,fermented,poisoned inside. Glancing up the tree was rotting with barely any leaves and the few left were the color of blood. "It's poisoned their all poisoned." His words cleared the Winchester's vision of the tree and the surrounding woods all the plants were dead all around it. "It's beautiful on the outside,but deadly on the inside. And we're seeing it for what it truly is."

"It's clear as day that's she's here. Just how do we get to her?" Dean asked looking around. Castiel snapped towards Sam holding his hand out. "Do you still have the book?!" Sam nodded quickly taking the strap off his shoulder to dig it out of the bag. He handed it over the the angels that viciously flipped through the pages. "He made her a monster so a beast she became. She was blinded by curiosity and temptation she chose wrongly that day. Pick the fruit that doesn't call to you for the right one will choose you." He read word for word trying to see through the riddle. A beast? She was never a monster,but she was depicted as one. A angel that tainted the flock.

The Archangel landed gracefully in front of her father. She bowed on one knee as a warrior would clashed in her white armor and sword by her side. "Stand my child." She stood up looking at him. "Yes,father?" Her voice was gentle,but that didn't make the God of creation hesitate in his actions. "I've made something new for you to try and plant in the garden." Chuck said handing her the item. The skin was red and the surface was smooth unlike the peach that had a light fuzz. "What is this?!" Her e/c eyes burned bright her wings fluttering in excitement. "A red apple my dear." He said softly a smile on his lips stepping closer "Taste it."

Bringing it to her mouth she took a bite out of it and started to chew. It started of sweet,but became bitter within seconds and no matter how long she chewed it never broke down in size for long. "Father...something not right." She said that single bite still in her mouth. "Trial and error,darling, try to swallow it." Her h/c hair bobbed as she nodded. With a gulp she swallowed it down,but to her shock it stopped. Using her free hand she beaten at her chest to unblock her air way. Looking up at her creator she saw a look that can only be described as pure evil as a liquid poured out of her mouth.

Touching her chin a dark violet substance came dripped to the ground. Her gaze shifted to the apple within her hand and the inside no longer looked right. It was as if it gone bad from the inside,but the outside stayed fresh hiding the disgusting center. In fear she stepped back and with that she fell and continued to fall watching her home fade away. Y/n broke through the soil of the earth in a prison of her own design that she cared for and nurtured. Her arm dropped from her side the apple rolling away. The deceitful visibly harmless fruit planted it seed and grew becoming the only way to enter her personal mausoleum.

Castiel looked at the tree. All of the fruit looked the same nothing was different about a single one of them. Together the trio walked around the looming tree. The Winchester's saw something beautiful and they couldn't help,but want to pick one of the apples to taste. "What do we do,Cas. We don't have much time before this place disappear and possibly taking is with it." Dean said flinging his hands in the air. "The riddle said to wait then that's what we must do.

They grouped together and sat at the base of the tree waiting for who knows what to happen. "This is stupid! Let's just get the shovels from baby and start di–" His words were cut short as a apple full down from above them. "Well that was covenant." Sam said as Cas picked it up. To the brothers it looked odd a bronze color compared to the rest just less appealing. While to Castiel it looked horrible making the clearly deadly fruits more appetizing. "Our key in." He said. Using his hands to break it open to reveal the mouth watering interior that a honey like liquid dripped from,they picked correctly. The ground began to shake and they all stepped away from the base of the tree as the dirt around it caved in making a spiral staircase down and down they went.

It was pitch black down there so Sam and Dean pulled out flash lights to look around. They all went around the surprisingly large pocket in the ground. Dean checked for the symbols when he tripped over roots and landed on something hard and and moving. Snapping up he shined the light on the women laying as if sleeping in front of him. She was in white leather armor with a sliver sword in her hands on her chest. "Didn't find any hex symbols,but here's sleeping beauty." He said looking her over she rested on a raised stone that worked as her bed. "Never mind found them." The markings from the book in a pyramid shape was on one side of the bedrock glowing a soft F/c. Sam walked over along with Cas. The knifes both brothers held was used to break the engraved symbols,but nothing happened.

"No no no that's not right. Y/n is suppose to be freed!" The angel in distress said as he flicked through the book nothing else was said to be imprisoning her, why didn't it work? The Winchester's examined her the youngest looking at the elegant armor while the oldest focused more of the feminine features. "Sammy you read that book while in the car. Didn't you say something about her being the first female?" He asked his eyes not leaving her. "Yeah a model for Eve and later Amara's less celestial form. Why?" Sam asked touching the blade of the sword. "Yeah if that’s try why does she have a Adam's apple?"Cas wasn't fully paying attention until that sentence. His blue eyes imminently went to her throat were a noticeable lump was. "That wasn't there before." He mumbled loud enough for them to hear. Placing his ear just a centimetre away from her lips a shallow breath was let out and a wheezed inhale drew it back in.

The angel put his overlapping hands on her chest. He didn't know everything about humanity,but he knew enough to understand what he was about to do. He pushed with all his strength and he heard a sharp breath push out it just wasn't enough to dislodge whatever was there. Cas continued his actions and just when he was giving up hope she coughed up the chunk of apple and a weird substance. F/c glowing eyes snapped open as she lurched forward her grace burning bright casting a shadow behind her. It was a sight to see three sets of wings,what can only be described as a halo,along with twisted horns. After the grace calmed down her eyes returned to their normal color and they instantly when to Cas a wide smile spreading on her face. "My raven." She said. Y/n knew why she was awoken after all this time. To fight in a war she wanted no part of,but with the thought of putting everything in balance and striking down her father where he stood made her ready to fight. After all she felt like she's had enough Beauty Sleep.

/////////

A/n: This one took a minute,but I was torn between sleeping beauty and snow white since both of them fall asleep so a mix of both.

Also post #69....Noice

[lonewolf34500]

The plot thickens and this might of have left off in a cliffhanger. Drew I am so sorry and Kat you gave the motivation I needed to complete this. With that said I have no idea how long it will take me to write the next part since I am starting school again. I forgot to add what their tail designs are: Lucifer is the eastern blue devil, Gabriel is a rainbow parrot fish, and Raphael is a yellow fin tuna. The rest of this series can be found here and the rest of the story down below.

Panel 1: Council meeting

Lucifer: This is the fifth time I brought her a gift and she just thanked me and swam away. Like what is her deal I…

Ralph: This is a stupid rant! We are here to discuss a very important issue according to Michael.

Gabriel: This is so boring; I want to go eat some sweet snails, mangos, or a papaya right about now rather than be at this meeting. If this meeting doesn't happen any time soon I am leaving. 

Michael: As they enter the council chambers he hears his brothers arguing and whispers to Adam, “They are at it again.” He says much louder so his brothers will hear, “Hey, enough!” 

Panel 2:  Meeting Adam

Gabe: He is the first to speak after seeing his brother holding the other merman’s hand, “You two are holding hands! Is Mikey getting laid...finally!” He has a face splitting grin.

Lucifer: He grins and lets out a low chuckle, “Mikey is definitely getting laid. I like the new arm candy. Maybe I can take a turn with him and rough him up a bit.” He cackles at his brother's expression.

Michael: He grips his lance tighter, everything is telling him to throw it at Lucifer. He knew of the rumors but there was never any evidence. “Just because you are my brother does not mean you get to get away with comments like that. Adam will be shown respect as much as you show me,” he declares as he looks at his brothers. 

Gabe was smiling, but he was just happy for his brother. Raphael, as always, looked indifferent but silently he was happy for Michael, too. Lucifer was unfazed by his brother’s declaration. He rakes his eyes across Adam’s body and licks his lips hungrily. 

Adam: He  tries to not react to Lucifer’s behavior  but he still squeezes Michael’s hand for reassurance. “Michael has something to tell you that is why he called this meeting not so you could make rude comments,” Adam says as he crosses his arms. 

Michael: His brothers turn towards him waiting for him to speak, he takes a deep breath and lets it out, “Thank you Adam. Yes, I do have something to tell you and we need a plan so no fighting among yourselves. Leviathans are attacking other colonies, we need to protect them and stop them from attacking.” Michael looks at his brothers at some point Lucifer had actually started to listen to him and now had a blank expression. Gabe looks confused and Ralphael is furious, his hand is hovering close to his sword. 

“Why are you just telling us now! How long have you known?” asks Ralphael accusingly. 

“ Aren’t Leviathans stories we tell kids before they go to bed?” asks Gabriel at the same time.

“They are not just stories Gabe, they are real monsters that wage war on the colonies a long time ago. Father did not want you and Castiel to know I don’t know his reasons but he forbade us from talking about the subject and they became a scary story. Raphael I have known for some time when I received a report from a patrol of one of our smaller colonies had been attacked. I told you it was just a shark attack but it wasn't.” Michael finishes speaking still looking at the ground unable to look at his brothers. He feels Adam slip his hand in his and intertwined their fingers again and squeezes his hand. 

“Michel is okay, I know father was not the greatest dad ever anyways plus now we got a cool looking monster to fight,” jokes Gabriel giving a humorless laugh. 

“I hate that you lie to me but I have double patrols even though you told me not to because of all of this “shark attacks” but it is okay now we can come up with a plan together,” says Raphael. Michael slowly looks at them. He still sees Gabe’s pain behind his smile and a bit of anger but it is mostly targeted at their father, hopefully. Raphael is still angry at being lied to but he still wants to protect the colonies and he will calm down eventually. 

“Lucifer you haven’t said anything,” says Michael now looking at Lucifer’s still blank face.

“I have nothing to add it all has been said you are a liar and put everyone in danger all because you have been getting down and dirty with some common merfolk,” hisses Lucifer. 

“One more comment like that Lucifer I will kick you out of this meeting and your opinion will not matter understood,” Michael growls. Lucifer shrugs and remains silent. 

Panel 3: Meeting Dean and the hatchling and an egg

Dean: They swim to the Council Chambers as they come in they hear someone ask, “So what is the plan?” 

Cas leans towards Dean and whispers,” Let me do most of the talking and introduce you to them; they don’t know you are my mate.” He nods and follows Cas to the meeting room where he sees his brother Adam and four other mermen; they must be Cas’ brothers. Cas clutches the egg closer to his chest as he lets their presence known, “Hello.” All the mermen turn towards them stopping in mid sentences.

The first to speak was Michael, “Cassie what is going on? Why are you here?”

“Dean, you have kids now?” asks Adam, shocked to see his older brother being clutch by a hatchling by his tail. 

“ First, this is Dean my mate. Dean, these are my brothers. The one with the lance is Michael the leader of the colony, right behind him is Raphael the main healer. Gabriel is our head scholar, and then there is Lucifer, the one that deals the punishment when someone breaks the laws,” says Cas. Dean looks at them again, Michael has a stern face but a slight smile but if you weren't looking closely you will miss it and Raphael just looked stern. While Gabriel has a wide smile and Lucifer looks like he woke up on the wrong side of the nest.

“Nice to meet you Dean but this doesn't explain why you have hatchlings,” says Michael. 

“Before you answer that Cas, why are you here Adam?” asks Dean, still confused by Adam’s presence at this meeting.

“I am with Michael,” Adam says shyly.

Michael wraps one arm possessively around Adam, “Yes I am courting him,” he confirms as he nuzzles behind Adam’s fin making Adam blush. 

The whole room fills up with Gabriel’s laughter, “Why not pee on him while you are at it Micky. This meeting is the most interesting one ever first Leviathans, Cassie has swam off and mated with hatchlings, and Micky is now marking his territory.”

“Speaking of hatchlings can we get back to the issues at hand,” says Raphael. 

“Right we found a nesting area that was completely destroyed by something. The only thing that remained was this egg and this hatchling. We just wanted to tell you about it and we are also adopting them,” Dean explains as he puts his hand on the little hatchling's head. 

Panel 4: Meeting Crowley

Dean:  They were interrupted again before anyone could say anything again by an octopus looking creature. “Hello darlings,” says the man with an odd accent. Raphael takes out his sword and Michael grips his lance firmer while pulling Adam closer. Castiel holds the egg close while shielding Dean from the stranger as Dean pulls him close and pushes their little girl behind him. Lucifer balls his hand into a fist and looks furious and Gabe just observes the stranger with curiosity and intrigued. 

“Who are you? This a private meeting, how did you get past the patrols and guards,” asks Michael calmly but his stares intently. 

“Let me introduce myself the name is Crowley. Your patrols are predictable so it is easy to get in and your guards are asleep with a little bit of magic, it helps being the son of a witch,” Crowley smirks, “Anyways I came to make a deal but it looks like you have some eels among you.”

“What are you talking about man?” asks Dean not sure about the new comer.

“I think Michael and tentacles here should go talk in private,” suggests Gabriel. 

“I should go with Michael. I am not letting him,” says Raphael pointing his sword towards Crowley, “Out of my sight especially around Michael.” 

“Dean and Castiel take your hatchlings to your den. I will talk to you both later,” Michael says looking at Dean. Dean mumbles under his breath, not happy at being dismissed but he does need to protect his family so he nodes as he ushers them out of the chambers.

Michael: Sees his brother go before looking at the rest of the room. “Okay Raphael and Gabriel you are coming with me. Adam go and wait for me in my den. Lucifer go and get a report on the patrols, also check on the guards to make sure they are going to be fine.”

“Why am I the one to go check on them? I am going with all of you,” Lucifer growls.

“ I need someone to check on them and we are just listening to him not making a decision,” explains Michael.

“No you are dismissing me like always,” says Lucifer with fury in his eyes.

“You just insulted Adam multiple times, you keep arguing with me, always wanting to be right and you never listen to anyone else’s opinion besides yours,” says Michael, growing more frustrated with his brother.

“Lucifer please just go and check on the guards and patrols we will tell you later what he has to say like Michael said we are just listening not making a final decision,” says Gabriel trying to diffuse the situation. 

“Whatever,” mutters Lucifer under his breath and swims off. 

“I will be waiting for you,” says Adam as he kisses Michael’s cheek and swims off too. 

“Are we done with all the mushy, feely, sappy stuff and temper tantrums because we have more important stuff to discuss,” sighs Crowley. 

Michael takes them to a smaller room and Raphael stands guard behind Crowley, “Alright what is it that you want?”asks Michael.

“Like I said I want to make a deal as you know the Leviathans are back I will give you more information about them,” answers Crowley.

“Why would you have information about them? How do we know it is reliable and you are not just lying?”Michael  prompts further.

“I have worked with them so they don’t attack the pack but I kind of have been overthrown and well I am willing to give information,'' replies Crowley.

“What is the catch? I don’t think you are just giving this information away out of the goodness of your heart,” snides Raphael. 

“Well you are not just the silent type you have a funny bone in there glad to see it didn’t go all to waste on shorty over there,” says Crowley smirking as he tilts his head towards Gabriel.

“Look who is calling someone short shorty, tentacles,” Gabe snarks back. 

“Can we focus or are we just going to do this all night,” says Michael. 

“Right yes there is a catch you have to provide protection and a den for me to stay until the threat is dealt with and I can potentially return to the pack. In return I will give you all the information I know,” concludes Crowley.

“This sounds reasonable but we will like to discuss this with the full council present but for now you will be given a den with guards outside and no magic to get away. You will be allowed to move around with escorts until we have made a final decision,” says Michael sternly.

“I will not talk to the eel although there are more of them.You will be wise to not to give up the upper hand away just like that, do not tell him anything,” warns Crowley. Michael knows this could be true; he remembers all the complaints and reports of missing, dead, or heavily traumatized merfolk that wouldn’t talk even now.   

“We will go with what Michael said and we will come up with something to tell Lucifer, perhaps we could partially lie to him so some truth but not all of it,” suggested Gabriel.

“Does he know who you are? Are you in danger from him?” asks Raphael. 

“I am not sure if he knows who I am but I am going to assume he does and I might indeed be in danger from him and every other bloody thing that is trying to kill me,” scoffs Crowley.

“One more question, do you know who the other eels are?” asks Raphael.

“I know he has a pack that follows all of his orders. The only names I have heard are Azazel, Alastair, and Lilith but I am sure there are more,” answers Crowley.

“Thank you Crowley for this information and we will try to keep you safe. That will be it for this meeting,” declares Michael. Michael gives his soldiers the orders before he goes to his den to meet Adam as his brothers leave to tend to other things in the colony. Michael enters his den to find Adam curled up on himself and badly bruised and bloody. 

Tagging: @shadowywerewolfqueen @peanutbutterandgrapejelly @fantastikitty7 @deservetobesaved @katishereintown

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

 LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

October 6, 2020

Heather Cox Richardson

In the past three years, it has so often felt like things were reaching the breaking point. But the image of Trump on the balcony of the White House last night, defiantly taking off his mask as he gasped for breath, truly looked to me like the beginning of the final chapter.

Today coronavirus infections continued to mount in the vicinity of the White House. At least 34 people near Trump have contracted the virus in the past few days. The press corps near the White House is down to a skeleton crew as the White House press secretary, Kayleigh McEnany, and four press aides have tested positive. So have top aide Stephen Miller and Admiral Charles Ray, the vice commandant of the Coast Guard Admiral.

Along with other military leaders, Ray attended an event celebrating Gold Star families last Sunday at the White House. That event included some of the same people who had been at the event the previous day in honor of Amy Coney Barrett, whom Trump nominated to take the seat of the late Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg on the Supreme Court. Those who attended both events included Trump and the First Lady.

Senior military leaders attended meetings with Ray last week in a secure room at the Pentagon, and now are self-quarantining. They include the Chairman of Joint Chiefs of Staff General Mark Milley; the Vice Chairman; the Army chief of staff; the Naval Operations Chief; the Air Force chief of staff; the CyberCom Commander; the SpaceForce operations chief; the director of the U.S. National Security Agency, Gen. Paul Nakasone; the Chief of the National Guard, Gen. Daniel Hokanson; and the deputy commandant of the Marine Corps, Gen. Gary Thomas.

The White House has apparently not done any contact tracing, and it declined the help of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to do it.

The administration appears to be committed to a strategy of community spread, rejecting the use of masks and of distancing. Deputy press secretary Brian Morganstern told NPR’s Mary Louise Kelly that the White House still does not require masks because “everyone needs to take personal responsibility.”

That the White House appears to be the center of a coronavirus hotspot has hurt Trump’s reelection campaign. The infections in the face of the fact that the administration refused to take the virus seriously, the ride around the hospital to wave at supporters while endangering Secret Service agents, the struggle to the balcony in a strongman scene, all appear to have demonstrated not Trump’s strength, but his weakness.

His behavior today has reinforced that sense. Trump left the hospital last night and returned to a locked-down White House. The few aides who met with him were dressed in PPE, while the West Wing is virtually abandoned as people have decamped to work from home. Trump has been on a Twitter spree today, tweeting and retweeting his old material, “the Russia Hoax” and Hillary Clinton’s emails, which now feel like ancient history, disconnected from today’s pressing crisis. Tonight, he tweeted: “I have fully authorized the total Declassification of any & all documents pertaining to the single greatest political CRIME in American History, the Russia Hoax. Likewise, the Hillary Clinton Email Scandal. No redactions!” He hit the same points again in another tweet: “All Russia Hoax Scandal information was Declassified by me long ago. Unfortunately for our Country, people have acted very slowly, especially since it is perhaps the biggest political crime in the history of our Country. Act!!!”

He sounds desperate. And on the heels of his tweets, Representative Ted Lieu (D-CA) tweeted to the Justice Department “Per the President’s orders, can you please provide the [House Judiciary] Committee the full unredacted Mueller Report immediately? Thank you.”

Other dropping stories make it look like the tide is running against Trump.

Patricia and Mark McCloskey, the St. Louis, Missouri, couple who held guns on protesters in June, were indicted today by a grand jury on charges of exhibiting guns and tampering with evidence. Trump invited the McCloskeys to speak at the Republican National Convention. “What you are witnessing here is just an opportunity for the government, the leftist, democrat government of the City of St. Louis to persecute us for doing no more than exercising our Second Amendment rights,” McCloskey said.

Two weeks ago, the administration blocked strict guidelines for a coronavirus vaccine, but today the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) released those guidelines over White House objections. This will make a vaccine before the election unlikely. Trump tweeted “New F.D.A. Rules make it more difficult for them to speed up vaccines for approval before Election Day. Just another political hit job!”

Today, the New York Times revealed the findings of an internal investigation by the Justice Department’s inspector general Michael Horowitz into the policy of separating children from their parents at our southern border. The policy was engineered by Stephen Miller, but the Justice Department has tended to blame then-Department of Homeland Security Kirstjen Nielsen for the policy. Horowitz’s investigation has established that then-Attorney General Jeff Sessions and his deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein were far keener on the policy than she was. In a sign of changing times, a 32-page response to the Horowitz’s investigation, written by Miller’s ally Gene Hamilton, said that Justice Department officials had simply followed orders from the president.

Facebook, too, sees the writing on the wall, and has announced that it will ban all QAnon conspiracy theory accounts. These accounts spread disinformation, including the idea that a heroic Trump is secretly leading an effort to round up a ring of pedophiles and cannibals based in the nation’s entertainment and political elites. The ban is one of the broadest Facebook has ever enacted.

Today, Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell said that a new coronavirus relief bill is imperative, but just hours later, Trump announced on Twitter that he was cancelling further talks between the White House and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. Stocks dropped 600 points, and vulnerable Republican senators panicked. Biden released a statement including a pithy condemnation: “Make no mistake: if you are out of work, if your business is closed, if your child’s school is shut down, if you are seeing layoffs in your community, Donald Trump decided today that none of that — none of it — matters to him. There will be no help from Washington for the foreseeable future. Instead, he wants the Senate to use its time to confirm his Supreme Court Justice nominee before the election, in a mad dash to make sure that the Court takes away your health care coverage as quickly as possible.” A few hours later, Trump changed his tune.

Today both the New York Times and the Boston Globe endorsed Biden, and General Michael Hayden, the retired four-star general who served as the Director of the CIA under President George W. Bush, released a video not just endorsing Biden, but also warning that "If there is another term for Trump, I don't know what happens to America." “Biden is a good man,” Hayden says. “Trump is not.”

Financial services company Goldman Sachs today forecast that the Democrats will take both the White House and the Senate, and said a Democratic sweep would mean a faster recovery and thus would be good for the economy. Moody’s Analytics, a subsidiary of another financial services company, recently found that Biden’s plans would add 7.4 million more jobs to the economy than Trump’s would.

Today in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, a town hallowed by history, Biden gave a blockbuster speech calling for the nation to put aside division and come together. He talked about race: “Think about what it takes for a Black person to love America. That is a deep love for this country that for far too long we have never fully recognized.” He talked about disparities of wealth: “Working people and their kids deserve an opportunity.”

And he talked about Lincoln, and how, at Gettysburg, he called for Americans to dedicate themselves to a “new birth of freedom” so that the men who had died for that cause “shall not have died in vain.”

“Today we are engaged once again in a battle for the soul of the nation,” Biden said. “After all that America has accomplished, after all the years we have stood as a beacon of light to the world, it cannot be that here and now, in 2020, we will allow government of the people, by the people, and for the people to perish from this earth.

“You and I are part of a great covenant, a common story of divisions overcome and of hope renewed," he said. "If we do our part, if we stand together, if we keep faith with the past and with each other, then the divisions of our time can give way to the dreams of a brighter, better, future.”

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

Heather Cox Richardson

[shadowywerewolfqueen]

To Summon A Familiar

Castiel stood in the middle of the summoning circle. He was shaking with nervousness as he looked at the people standing around him outside of the circle. It was Cas’ eighteenth birthday and he was finally going to be able to summon his Familiar to him.

A Familiar was a guide and companion to witches. They helped to keep a witch’s magic balanced and from becoming uncontrollable. When a witch was born, their Familiar was as well. The two souls weren’t able to bond with each other until their eighteenth birthday when the witch’s magic would fully manifest and the Familiar would discover their animal form.

Castiel’s hands were shaking uncontrollably as he fought to contain his magic. His power was beyond anything the elders had ever witnessed. Cas’ magic was so strong, it had become tangible in the past few days. His magic could be seen as bright blue sparks that hovered around his body like a cloud.

Castiel was a natural born healer and had never come across a patient he couldn’t heal. Even from a young age, Cas could mix up potions and mash ingredients into a poultice. By the time he was thirteen, Cas could heal most major wounds on his own without the aid of his mentor. Now, Cas’ magic had become so strong that healing a person was dangerous. A week ago, he had tried to heal a friend’s broken bone and ended up shattering the bone with a powerful surge of magic. Cas could no longer regulate the strength of his magic. A bond with his Familiar was his only hope to ever heal a person again.

“Castiel, are you ready?” Michael called out. Cas was barely able to nod his head as his magic flared up. “You know the ritual Castiel. Drip your blood into the circle and say the summoning words so that your Familiar may find you.”

Cas gripped the silver knife tighter in his hand. He held his hand out in front of him, palm up and swiped the knife across it. He gasped at the sharp pain of the blade as it sliced through his skin. He gritted his teeth as he closed his hand into a fist and watched his blood drip onto the runes on the ground. “Ego Castiel meosque Nota. Statera iusta et in eo qui non eris et enutries me. Quod ille qui est ceteris dimidium animae meae. Ita ut omnes vocat vinculum exsistentiae.,” Castiel whispered.

Cas cried out as his body was enveloped in heat and he watched as a portal opened in front of him. He gasped as he felt the tendrils of his soul reaching through the portal and searching for its companion. He fell to his knees when he felt his soul bump against its other half. The other soul wrapped around Castiel’s and he could feel them stitching together. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his magic flare one last time before settling beneath his skin with a soft hum.

Suddenly, Castiel felt something nuzzle against his cheek. He looked up into a bright pair of green eyes. The eyes were attached to one of the most magnificent creatures Castiel had ever seen.

Most Familiars could take the shape of common animals such as dogs or cats. Some took on stronger forms like bears or lions. A select few could take the shape of the mythological creatures and they were the most powerful Familiars of all.

Cas gazed in awe at the golden winged horse; his Familiar took the shape of the legendary Pegasus of Greek myth. Cas watched as the Familiar shook his head, his mane flying in all directions. He couldn’t tear his eyes away when the wings were stretched to their full length, more than thirteen feet from tip to tip. As they folded against his body, the wings created a slight breeze and Cas sighed as the cool air brushed against his overheated skin.

Cas reached out and cupped the Familiar’s cheek. “You are stunning. Never in my wildest dreams did I hope for a Familiar such as you. My name is Castiel. What’s yours?”

Instead of using their telepathic bond, the Familiar shifted into his human form which was just as exquisite as his animal one. Cas stared at the man in front of him. Along with his gorgeous green eyes, he had short blonde hair, freckled covered cheeks, broad shoulders, a trim waist, and bowed legs. He was perfect in every way.

“Dean, my name is Dean. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Castiel. I hoped for my witch to be powerful but even I couldn’t imagine just how strong you are. Your magic is like a pleasant tingle beneath my skin.” Dean chuckled as he helped Cas to his feet.

“I’m just glad it’s no longer a haze of sparks that everyone can see. Now I don’t have to worry about shattering someone’s bone when trying to just fix a broken one. Thank you,” Cas said with a grin.

Dean flashed Cas a grin. “That’s my job Cas, to help keep your magic in check. Now, how about we go find the closest diner in town? I’m starving. You couldn’t have waited to summon me after dinner?”

Cas frowned. “I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t know what time zone you were in.”

“Cas,” Dean interrupted. “It’s a joke, well the summoning part at least. I really am starving.”

“I know the perfect place. The Roadhouse is the local bar in town, and they have the best burgers you’ve ever put in your mouth. Oh, and their pecan pie is to diiiie for.” Cas was practically drooling thinking about the food.

“Dude, we just became best friends. Burgers and pie are the way to my heart,” Dean said as he slung his arm around Cas’ shoulder.

“I’d like to know what other ways I can take to your heart.” Cas and Dean stepped out the summoning circle, completely oblivious to the fact that they were alone.

“Trust me Cas, it ain’t that hard. I’m a pretty simple guy. You gonna tell me how to impress you?” Dean asked with a smirk.

“Why don’t we start with a date at the Roadhouse first?” Cas slowly wound his fingers with Dean and was glad when he didn’t pull away.

“Oh, I plan on this just being the first of many dates, Cas.” Dean squeezed Cas’ hand and flashed him a bright smile.

It turned out to be an epic first date and led to a long and wonderful life for the witch and his Familiar.

If you're curious, the words Cas says in Latin are loosely translated to "I, Castiel, summon my Familiar. The person who will balance and guide me. The one who is the other half of my soul. I summon you so that we may bond for all of our existence." At least according to Google Translate haha

Tagging: @lonewolf34500 @notwithd @multifandom-fanatic @flowersforcas @cockleslovesdestiel

[91whiskeygirl]

The One Where Sam Takes A Chance Part 1

*Inspired by Season 14, reader insert. foul language, some angst and (maybe probably, definitely smut if you want a part 2😏)

Changed things up so reader can be inserted, DUH🤷🏻‍♀️**

**Do I need to continue this as a series? Thank you for the love and support to continue this as a series! If you have a request message me❤️**

“Of course it’s a trap.” Your declaration of it went unheard. Everyone circled the table getting their gear ready to rescue Cas. As you were about to zip up your bag Sam was behind you and held your shoulder. “We’ve got enough people, you just hold down the fort , y/n.”

Exhaling sharply you stared up at the giant before you, your shoulders squaring.

“If I’d gone with him he wouldn’t be in this situation! He’d have had back up! Let me help Sam.”

“Y/n-“ he didn’t look at you, just started to pick up his gear ready to head out. “You can’t blame yourself for everything other people choose to do to find Dean. I’m not asking, I’m telling you- no.”

“Look, I know I drink myself to sleep every night lately, but I’m more than capable to slice some demons, it’s kind of in the job description. What am I supposed to do, just worry the people I care about get hurt while I’m not there? Then it’s all on me, AGAIN. Sam, you need me just like I do-“ Sam inhaled deeply, his gaze turning to you as if he was waiting for something more out of you. Your irritation started to turn to anger, but you knew this was a useless fight. You always listened to the Winchester’s orders, because in the end it was for your safety. You had no idea why the hell they’d want to protect you, you were nobody, just another hunter. Just because you knew them for a few years shouldn’t mean they’d have the right to choose when you should fight and when you need to surrender.

Shoulders slumping you throw your bag over your shoulder and look to Jack. “Be careful, kid.” Jack gives you a grin and nods. Pointing to Sam “He might be tall, but they always fall harder. Make sure he comes back all in one piece ok?” You wink to Jack and then head to Dean’s room.

A soft knock on the door, you turn around to see Mary.

“Hey” sitting at the desk you fish out your laptop.

“Sam means we’ll y/n. He just wants you safe. Can you imagine when Dean comes back and you got hurt because you were trying to find him?” Her voice sounded more parental than friend -like.

Sighing you look up at her and shrug.

“When Dean comes back? Mary we don’t know if he’s even him! Michael could’ve snuffed him out first thing he got in him, or worse, Dean doesn’t want to come back, because his self loathing always gets the better of him. I can’t keep thinking he’ll be back safe and sound anymore. I want to focus on the ones that are still here.”

It hurt you to say it out loud, but it was true. Behind those words there was anger, hate. You were angry Dean is gone again and you felt lost, you started to hate that you would do anything to find him again, because every time you finally get him back to his old self, shit hits the fan again.

With her arms crossed she goes over to you and kisses your forehead then patting it.

“ I have to think that he’ll be back. Because if not I’ll just drown in the worst darkest thoughts if he doesn’t. That’s what I did with their father, and it didn’t help me much at all. Don’t let those thoughts stick in your head sweetie. It’s not helping you, and Sam can see you’re hurting, he’s hurting too. “

You squeeze Mary’s hand, admitting defeat.

“I know. You can throw all the TLC at Sam right now and he’ll just keep working. He’s worrying about everyone else but himself. Go on, I got the bunker till y’all get back. Be safe.” Heading back to your laptop you put on your headphones to listen to any police radio that sounds more than the usual weird. Mary leaves after sending you a small smile. Trying to focus on the chatter in your ears, you end up glancing to a photo of you kissing Dean’s cheek in the Impala that rested under the desk lamp. Picking it up a heavy weight fell on to your chest, but no tears came out. You were too tired, about everything. The weeks that came after Michael taking him was torture for you, but now it’s starting to feel too familiar, so now your mind is restless just because, as if this was just another case,m. Pulling out the desk drawer you place the photo into it gingerly. If you couldn’t help anyone, if you couldn’t have Dean home today, you might as well keep all those lovey dovey feelings down. You’ve done it before, numb yourself down to the core, the only thing is it would get out of control, to the point where you were apathetic towards everything and anyone. It was almost like you were soulless. But right now you didn’t care if you drowned in that emptiness. It’s the only way you’d get through another day without him.

Hours later

The entrance door slammed shut and voices started flowing through the bunker. Everyone parted ways but Sam stayed in the common room and started to set up to look at more books, hoping he’d find something to bring Michael down. His bruised temple started to pulse and he winced, holding the side of his head.

“You’re back.”, walking up to him and placing the near frozen beer bottle to his injury. Hissing from the pain he covered your hand over, and tingles flew up your spine.

“ Dude you’ve had worse. Lemme get you a cloth before it starts melting all over you.” Patting his back harder than you should, taking a breath out of him then chuckling.

Wrapping the bottle up then handing it back to him, you can see how tired he was. He wasn’t the same Sam you met anymore. His hardened stature made him appear like he was impenetrable. That used to worry you, but now you actually liked him like that, he was the younger Winchester, now all grown up, not needing to hold his brother’s hand through another apocalypse.

Standing next to him you uncap you’re own beer and sip it carefully. “Glad y’all are back, I’m gonna fix up some food for everyone. You- need some shut eye.” You say casually.

“ Like I told mom, I’m fine, y/n.” He starts to open a book but you close it, in return having an annoyed Sam turn to you. You don’t know how you felt so comfortable to reach out and touch his scruffy cheek, but it seemed to make him crack a bit, his hazel eyes turned soft at your touch.

“Sam, just a quick nap, I’ll wake you up when food’s ready.” Your hand lingers more than it should, so you fight it and take your beer in it, heading to the kitchen, you grasp your bottle harder than you need to.

“Grub’s for the grunts!” You shout out, and the group of people comes through, random cheering that it’s another day of being full. You make your own bowl of Mac and cheese and then make Sam’s as a side, his actual meal being a Chicken Salad.

Finishing to top it off with cherry tomatoes you head to his room and peek before knocking and entering.

You hear soft snores and set his and your food on his desk. Turning to wake him up you see how peaceful he is sleeping, and start to make your way to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. His breathing was slow while you admired his chest rising and falling under his grey shirt, one of his arms resting on his stomach and the other raised up over his head, his hair disheveled. A tight smile comes from you admiring the giant, and your head leans to one side, relishing in the moment. You were glad he listened to you. You and the boys had gone days without sleep for hunts before and knew the toll it’d take on him physically and mentally.

Reaching to softly rub his arm so he could wake you’re met with him moving to your side and holding your hand, a small smile on his lips taking you aback, but you don’t do anything to remove it. You slowly position yourself to lay with him , and now you realize you’re too close for comfort.

Your body heats up and tenses, anticipating if you choose to change your mind to get off the bed or get closer to him. His hand still in yours you tighten your hold a bit and hold it to your chest, your eyelids getting heavy, not noticing Sam’s eyes flickering open.

[percywinchester27]

About a boy (Part-2)

Word count: 2.8K

Warning: Suspense, feels, physical abuse, bullying 

Characters: Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Benny, Michael, OCs and… Sam?

Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?

A/N: Many thanks to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and @deanssweetheart23 for beta reading this story. I love you guys <3

Part 1

The orphanage wasn't quite as gloomy in the daylight, Dean concluded, but still gloomy enough. Cas showed him around the place in the morning. The shower rooms, the mess, the grounds. Everyone looked at him as they passed. The new kid. As if he hadn't had that before. 

The building was I- shaped, and a good chunk of the T-shape was occupied. No one really knew what happened in the left-wing. It was boarded and the only way to go there was from the ground and up the other staircase. The ground floor had the office, the library, store room, record room, the kitchen and the mess hall, which overlooked the huge, unkempt backyard. 

The first floor was mostly storages and a creepy meeting room for when interested couples visited the orphanage to look at a kid up for adoption. Looked like a jail cell to Dean. The second floor had a Rec room with one old TV set. A couple of computers that looked like they were about to give up any second now. A table tennis board and a few other random board games. It was longish room, like several walls had been knocked down to make space for it, with an assortment of mismatching sofas. The place was about as lively as an almost abandoned old age home. The second floor housed kids from 3 to 6, third floor from 7 to 10, then the floor above had 11 to 14 and the fifth floor, the one where Dean was to live was 15 to 17.

He kept his head down all through breakfast, carefully watching kids file in and file out. There must have been at least 600 to 700 of them in the whole building. It was a big facility and that just made it all the more difficult for him. Afterwards, he stood by the widow, seeing all the little kids scramble on to one bus after another and head to school. Dean started the day after, so today was all he would get. 

Cas clapped him on his back on his way out. "Stay quiet, alright?" his blue eyes twinkled. 

"Okay."

As soon as all of them were in the bus, Dean slipped out of the mess quietly. His cleaning duties weren't going to be assigned till later today which is why he had to make the most of his time. He passed Andy in the hall, who was headed towards his office.

Dean nodded to him, all the while cursing under his breath. The record room was just down the corridor from Andy's office. How was he going to break into it with Andy just around the corner? He had to try though.

He looked around once Andy had passed, then doubled back to the record room. It was locked.

Great!

He pulled out the lock pick he kept with him from his pocket and picked it open, cursing once more because this would leave evidence, and he was, at no cost, supposed to draw attention. Once inside, he shut the door behind him and turned to face the room. His breath caught. The room was full of racks stacked with files. There must have been thousands and thousands of those. Till there was only enough room to walk around.

"Shit!" 

There was no way he was going to find one single record in this sea of files. He went along the first row anyway, maybe they were categorized alphabetically, though being organized seemed highly out of character for the whole place.

Still, Dean went around, looking for 'W.' That wasn't the most common letter for surnames, now was it?

All of a sudden the door barged open. 

"Who's there?" A voice called. Dean jumped, startled. "It's me…" he said, as meekly as he could manage. I'm new here… I got lost."

"Come out, now."

Dean walked back carefully till he was at the start of the rack. A lanky boy of about 19 was standing at the door. He wore a janitor's uniform, and looked slightly punch drunk.

"You shouldn't be here, kid!"

"I-I got lost…" he stammered.

The janitor dude, walked closer,eyeing Dean. The nameplate on his chest read "Garth F."

"Alright, but don't have Andy catch you snooping around next time," Garth scolded good-naturedly. "Now off you go."

Dean didn't need to be told twice. He made a beeline straight for the 5th floor. Not stopping till he was on his bed, heart pounding out of his chest.

What had he been thinking? Getting caught on the first damn day?

He could barely swallow the lunch and then hit the sack at 5, before Cas could get back from school. Dean was starting to like him, and at this point he couldn't really afford to do that. The sleepless night and an afternoon of over thinking, at least, aided in passing out cold.

Dean was awoken by a rag thrown over his face, suffocating him. He tried to flail, to yell but rough hands grabbed his legs, his arms, pinning him to the mattress. 

"Don't make a sound, or you'll pay for it," someone hissed in his ear.

So, this was the initiation. Deliberately, Dean stopped moving. If he didn't know who he was watching his back from, none of this would ever work.

He was roughly shoved into a huge gurney bag and then dragged across the hall. Fortunately, not down the stairs. He guessed that whoever the captors were, at least they were scared of making too much noise, so he wasn't obviously staying on the same floor. 24 steps down, flat stretch then a pause then a left turn, another 24 steps. Dean tried to memorize every step, but what with all the juggling around, it was hard to make sense of the direction.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the gurney carrying him was thrown on the ground. The fall hit his head hard. Then it began, the ceaseless thrashing. Hands and feet, mostly feet found each part of his body, hands, head, leg, just everything. He curled up into a ball, head in hands to avoid getting hit in the eye or getting his nose broken. That thing was permanent and he didn't want to live his life with a crooked nose.   

At long last he was dumped on to the ground unceremoniously. At first, he didn't remove his hands from over his face, but when nothing happened immediately, he blinked into the darkness, barely seeing anything.

"What's your name, kid?" A harsh voice asked.

"You want it tattooed on your chest?" Dean asked. It earned him a swift kick to the gut.

"Smartass."

The comment was a throwaway, but Dean could hear a hint of grudging admiration.

"Your name?" Another voice asked, this one was harsher, and also older.

Dean wanted to throw another comment, but he figured he needed to get up first to have at least some advantage. If answering was going to buy him time, might as well.

"Winchester."

"Think I've heard that name somewhere," the first voice muttered. Dean inhaled sharply.

"Winchester what?" Second voice.

"Dean Winchester," he replied, hoping that the first voice had something more to add to. Sneakily, he got on his knees, his body killing him as he ambled.

"We have an initiation system here, Winchester," a third voice added.

How many were there? In the bare light coming from the far away lamp near the side building, Dean could make out at least 5 silhouettes. There could be a couple more. 

There was no way he could fight his way through all of those.

"Strip!" The harsh voice said.

"What's the fun in that?" Dean said, careful, calculative. If he had the disadvantage of the darkness, so did they. Maybe, just maybe he could run away.

Another shove. Dean almost fell back this time. When the second shove came, he was ready to block it and throw it back. His one hand collided with the assailants and the other landed on his back, pushing him down. There was a muted yell and whoever the boy was, took another one down with it.

"Think you're smart, huh?" The harsh voice asked, and three figures crowded in. 

"Wait!" 

The huffing thin frame of Castiel threw himself before Dean. "Let him go, Michael."

So that was the bully's name.

"Castiel?" Michael backtracked. "What're you doing here?"

"Dean's my friend. I can't let you guys do that to him."

Michael seemed to regard Cas. "This happens to every kid."

There were jeers in the background.

"Yeah but he's not a kid anymore" Cas said, hurriedly. "C'mon, man! Let it go."

Even in the darkness, Dean could see Michael's shoulders go taut. "Why are you trying to save the  newbie's ass, Castiel? What's in it for you?"

Cas said nothing, and Dean wondered the same. What did he get out of saving Dean?

"I've had enough of this soap opera," Michael said impatiently. "Gary, pull Castiel away. Let's get this show on the road."

There was a sudden whelp, and then Cas grunted, as if he had been hurt. 

"No," Dean shouted, losing his calm now. Whatever Cas' deal was, he had still tried to help Dean. He didn't deserve to get punched for it. "Let him go. If you got guts, come at me, asshat."

No one answered. There was just a flurry of movement and Dean was down on the ground once more, the dust making him cough. They could thrash him for all they wanted. He knew they would succeed because they had the advantage of numbers, and they knew the place well while he was plunged in this darkness. But, like hell he was giving up without putting up a fight. His only concern was Cas. He had to be okay.

"Gentlemen!" A silky voice suddenly interrupted. The thrashing stopped.

"I see you're showering our lovely new inmate with all the love."

"Gabriel?" Michael asked, perplexed.

"Yo, Mikey!! You back to abusing little kids in the alley?"

"What?" Michael's tone quickly changed from surprise to anger. Dean noticed that this Gabriel was making no effort to keep his voice down like the others.

"Too dark here, don't you think?" Gabriel wondered out loud. Then, there was the distinct sound of a matchstick being struck and the view was flooded with light. 

Holding the match was a boy of about Dean's age, or maybe a little older. It was hard to tell. He was blonde with light eyes. Maybe brown, maybe hazel, it was hard to tell. The most distinct thing in his eyes wasn't the reflection of the dancing flames. It was the dancing mischief.

"You'll wake everyone up, you idiot," a boy said, he looked scared. From the voice, Dean pegged him as Gary.

"Oh, you're worried about this little thing?" Gabriel smiled, looking at the matchstick that was on the verge of extinguishing. "I wonder what you'll make of the lights that are about to flood the hallways because I left one such matchstick burning in your room. Give it… uhhh ten more minutes before the smoke sets up the fire alarm and then boom! Red lights everywhere."

"Fuck!" Another boy cursed.

In the fading light, Dean had seen it all. The cold, calculating look in Dark haired Michael's eyes, his three goons lurking in the background. One more was holding Cas, then there was Gary who looked ready to piss his pants.

"This isn't over, Winchester!" Michael growled, then took off running towards the building, his goons all following him. The guy holding Cas, abandoned him, pushing him into the dirt, too. 

"Are you okay?" Dean said, pulling him to his feet. "Why-"

"Well, surely he isn't!" Gabriel said speaking over Dean, leaving all his oily pretense behind. He was irritated. "Cassy, are you out of your mind? Why did you do that?"

Cas just dusted the grime of his shirt. 

"Dean was in trouble."

"Yeah, he's new!" Gabriel shrugged. "Why did you put your ass on the line for him?"

"Why did you put your ass in line for me?" Cas asked. "Look, Gabe, let it go."

"It's your head," Gabriel said. "Just don't lose it over some newbie idiot."

The sound of footsteps walking away was much too loud now.

"C'mon, we need to get moving," Cas said. They hadn't really hurt him, but he was still roughed up. Despite that, his voice was pleasant and kind.

"Thanks, man," Dean said, looking down as they quickly walked up the path. "You didn't have to do that. They could have hurt you."

"Nah, they wouldn't," Cas brushed it off. There was a confidence there, and Dean wondered what the story was.

They walked in silence for a while, before Cas mumbled.

"Don't mind Gabe. He isn't all that cocky. He means well."

Dean got cocky alright. What he didn't get was how Gabriel could pull a stunt like that without getting in trouble. Michael's gang would totally get him now, but he didn't seem bothered at all. 

When Dean wondered out loud, Cas laughed. "Don't worry about Gabe. He's a sneaky piece of work. He has something over each one of them. Even Michael. I don't know what, but everyone just generally stays away from Gabe, ya know."

Survival of the fittest. Gabe sure knew how to be the dominant species. 

"He seems to care about you."

Cas' eyes glinted in the darkness. "We've been together for a long time, now, sharing the same room. Well, he's your roommate, too, now."

They had reached the back porch now. "We can't go in from the left wing. Those idiots probably locked that back up."

"What do we do then?" The question was more panicky than Dean wanted it to be. The place was affecting him more than it should.

"Don't worry," Cas reassured him. "We can stake out in the store room till the morning and then slip out when they unlock the floors."

The plan worked without a glitch, and soon they found themselves bunking against the musty furniture at the very end. Cas stretched out on the floor and Dean took up the side against the wall. This way, they couldn't see each other, but from the sound of his breathing, Dean knew Cas was still up.

"Can I ask you something?" Dean finally said.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you bust me out?"

Cas was quiet for a while. "I think you're different, Dean. There's something up with you. I've been in an orphanage all my life, I've seen countless kids come and go. They all look scared, look lonely. You- You on the other hand look like you've been sent into an enemy territory, you aren't judging this place, you're scoping it. Like you're up to something. Now, I also know you're not bad, because I saw you help out the kids out front today with the lawn when you didn't have to. So, I keep thinking to myself why you're here."

Holy shit! Cas was smart.

Dean knew if he lied now, he'd suck at it, but also he'd royally insult both the favor and the trust that Cas had put on him.

"I- " he started, feeling dangerously nervous. "I came here with a purpose."

Cas seemed to hear with baited breath.

"You see, my parents both died in a house fire." Dean waited for it, because now was where the "I'm sorry" came in. Cas didn't offer one. Probably because he had heard way too many sob stories by this point, or maybe because he knew all too well that those same 'I'm sorrys' didn't mean a damn thing."

"Well, I wasn't their only kid. I had a little brother- Sam. They… they took him away and put him in some orphanage. It has been 11 years since I last saw him. Turns out the some orphanage is this orphanage."

"Holy heavens!" Cas sat up straight, tumbling a bucket behind him. The clang of the metal it banged against, echoed through the whole room and maybe outside.

The two of them went deathly still.

There were footsteps outside, and both Dean and Cas, slipped further inside. He under the stashed away bed, and Cas under an abandoned table. 

Dean pursed his lips, not daring to breathe too loudly even after the footsteps had receded. He stayed silent, watching the minutes go by. Just when he was sure that Cas had probably fallen asleep, the quietest whispers sounded in the dark. 

"We're going to find your brother, Dean. We're going to turn this place upside down and find your brother."

Dean did not reply. His throat was too thick.

Now that he had let his guard down, the fear, anxiety and worse, the hope came flooding into his heart, making him defenseless. He stayed up long after Cas' hushed snores washed over him, feeling the gratefulness and camaraderie he hadn't expected at all.

******************************

A/N 2: I really really hope y’all like this story!! Please let me know what you think… the feedback is what keeps me going :)

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[maxineswritingcenter]

Beauty and the Beast AU - Demon!Dean Winchester x fem!reader part 2

Read part one here!

Characters: (as they appear) fem!reader, Sam Winchester, demon!Dean Winchester, Castiel, Crowley, Michael, Zachariah, readers Father

Summary: You are seen as the oddball around town, you're into books and other nerdy things that the small town you were raised in just don't get. You dream of going on the road and having adventures, but it's unlikely you can because you don't have a lot of money. Your father runs a house renovating business and goes to a job in the spooky abandoned house in the woods. You see where I'm going from here.

-------------------------------------------------

I was slumped against the wall of the room, huddling myself together to keep warm. I would never see him again, I would never see my dad ever again. My fists tightened as tears pooled in my eyes. But I had to! I had to keep him safe. I could let him die here.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye..." I hiccupped.

Just then, voices came from the other side of the wall. They were muffled but I could make them out.

"Dean... Dean maybe you should... I don't know, let her sleep in a room with a bed."

"Now why would I do that?" It was the stranger, Dean was his name. But he was talking to someone else. Someone who seemed like he had some common sense.

"I mean, she took her father's place as your prisoner. Just like..."

"Just like we used to do. Well look where that has gotten us. We have been dead and alive more times than Jesus Christ. I'll pass on that bullcrap."

"Look man, just... Cut her some slack." The voice seemed to fade away. There was a long pause of silence then the door swung open. And the stranger was back, but he seemed different but no less menacing. His eyes were no longer a black hole. They were bright green and seemed to sparkle in the light. His light brown hair was combed up and to the side. His cheeks were scruffy. He seemed like the ideal man. But behind this façade was a monster. He stared at me for a moment then sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Alright, c'mon." He said, motioning to the door. I stayed put on the floor.

"Hello? Are you deaf? Get up." He said, his voice rising. I stood up quickly, holding my bag close.

"This way." He pressed a hand to my lower back and lightly pushed me forward.

"Where are we going?" I asked, looking around the halls.

"Well, I figure you're more useful not frozen so you get your own little private room." There was an open door at the end of the hall. I looked at the other rooms, or at least the ones that were open, they almost looked like dorms, they were uniform except for the few things that made them unique: blankets, gadgets, clothes on the bed. The room at the end of the hall was blank. There was a bed, the blankets were folded on the end. There was a vanity on the opposite side.

"Alright, sweetheart. Bedroom. There's some clothes in the top drawer of that dresser there. Bathrooms down the hall. You saw the kitchen. Home sweet home." He said, motioning to the plain room. I slowly walked inside, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was a nice mattress, nothing too hard or soft... Was it memory foam? I ran my hand over the blanket, it was soft and looked home made.

"I only have two rules." He held up two fingers as he listed them: "Don't run away and don't go into the west hallway."

"Why, what's down there-"

"None of your damn business." He cut me off, "Anyway, you need anything ask Sam or Cas. I wouldnt expect much from Crowley. And uh... Dinners at 10." He smiled.

"I'm not hungry." I looked up, meeting his darkening eyes.

"I wasn't asking. You understand?" He growled. I looked away from him.

"Do you understand?!" He shouted, his voice boomed. It seemed like the walls shook with the power it held.

"I got it!" I shouted back. He scoffed and left, slamming the door behind him. Another sob bubbled in my throat. I held my face in my hands, trying to quiet the sounds of my crying.

There was a soft knock at the door. I quickly wiped away my tears and cleared my throat, "Come in." The door opened and someone new was in the threshold. He was extremely tall. He had shaggy brown hair that reached his jaw. He seemed to look apologetic, his hazel eyes were soft and his smile seemed genuine.

"Hi, I'm Sam." He said then held out a steaming mug, "I didn't know what you liked so I just brought this berry tea we had. I liked it so I thought it wouldn't hurt." He crossed to me and sat on the bed. Not to close to give me space that I really appreciated. I smiled and took the warm mug.

"Thanks." I sipped the tea, then paused and looked at Sam, "You're not like him, are you? Your eyes aren't..."

He shook his head, "No, I'm not a demon. I was once but... Dean and Cas got me back to myself."

I nodded, taking another sip of the tea.

"I put some clothes in the drawer... They're probably way too big but everything else was either dirty or eaten by moths." He chuckled, motioning towards the dresser, "I figured you would feel better in fresh clothes before dinner."

I scoffed, "I'm not going to dinner, not with that dickhead."

"Look, I wouldn't either but... Dean's got a temper. Ever since we were kids. And it's worse now since he got the mark." He said, leaning back. He must have been talking about the glowing thing on his arm.

"You're brothers..." It wasn't really a question but Sam nodded.

"Yeah... You wouldn't believe it but he was the best big brother anyone could ask for. He raised me while our dad was hunting." He said, there was a sadness that coated his words. Like everything brought back memories he couldn't get back to.

"Hunting what?" I asked, tea forgotten.

He sighed and moved closer, "Look, the short story is that every monster that you've ever heard of is real. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, angels, demons... They're all real. And for a long time my family has been fighting them to keep the world safe. I know it's hard to believe-"

I shook my head, "No. Not at all. I mean... I've had a feeling. Strange things happen around town. Pigs go missing and found all mutilated, the town's supply of wolvesbane goes missing, guys with black eyes kidnapping you and holding you prisoner. I'm getting around to the idea that there's more than meets the eye." I said, playing with the tea string.

"My mom always told me that there was some things that made the world magical... I believed that for a long time until she disappeared." I said sadly. Mom was my happiness for a long time... And it's almost like when she left all of it went with her.

"Wait, your mom disappeared?" He asked, leaning towards me.

I shook my head, staring down at the purple tea, "Yeah... Dad picked me up from school and when we came home all her stuff was gone. Just like she never existed."

--------------

Meanwhile at the local bar

Michael and Zachariah sat at the bar, watching the mortals of this tiny inconsequential garbage town drink and stumble around.

"I cannot wait to be gone from this hole." Michael said, not touching the glass of whiskey in front of him.

"Well once we get the girl and do the whole shebang we can be rid of this place, blow it up if we felt like it." Zachariah said, drinking his drink. Michael lowered him a glare, eyes shining with Grace.

"We will do no such thing. We know our orders. Get the girl and do what needs to be done." Zachariah held his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, alright. Are we sure this girl is the one? I mean there are plenty of other chicks in town for this. And less difficult certainly." He motioned to the girls in the bar. They were pretty, they were willing, but not who they needed.

"No, (Y/N) is the one. This has been passed through their line. This would have been over if someone hadn't lost track of her mother." Michael growled and knocked back the alcohol. It burned his throat but did the job of easing his vessel's nerves. No wonder John would go on to become an alcoholic and his son after him.

"Listen, we pinned her down here and then she disappeared. She's either dead or she's under the radar. I don't know what to tell you." Michael grabbed Zachariah by the collar.

"You tell me that you haven't lost the woman to which the savior will be reborn." He shoved Zachariah away, almost knocking the man off his barstool.

"This has to happen this year. I escaped Hell, Lucifer will follow. The child will save humanity." He spoke, mainly to himself.

Zachariah adjusted him self on the stool, "And why were you chosen to carry out this duty, may I ask?"

"You may not." Michael said, the glare he sent Zachariah made the lesser angel back down.

"Alright, alright, you're the boss. I respect our fathers decision." Commotion broke out as a haggared man came into the bar. Michael recognized him as (Y/N)'s father, (Your Father's Name). He pushed past patrons and made his way to the bar.

"Michael! You have to help me! There's a monster in the woods. He has my daughter!" He said, leaning on the counter. The man looked absolutely disgusting. There was sweat dripping off of him, soaking through his clothes.

"Who has her now?" Zachariah asked, leaning forward.

"A monster in the woods. He has her locked up at the abandoned house!" He shouted. To Michael's knowledge, the abandoned house was nothing more than it was, abandoned. These were only the ramblings of a foolish human. Michael motioned to a couple of game hunters he had become "friends" with, "Get him out of here." Michael said, return to face the bar, tapping on the counter to get another drink.

"If you won't help I'll get her myself, by God I will." (Y/F/N) shouted as he was tossed out.

"We'll see about that." Michael said, gripping onto his glass.

-

After Sam had left, I sat in the room, listening to anything being said. Their voices seemed to bounce off the wall here.

"She uh... Said she wasn't coming." Sam said.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean growled.

"Perhaps you could ask nicely." A man with a gruff voice said, "I am told it is polite."

"I don't think he has the ability." The next voice was a man with a deep accent, Scottish I think.

"I'm capable, but not when she's being a brat." Dean said. A brat? I was the brat? I wasn't the one stomping around making everyone else walk on eggshells.

"Just... Try." Sam said hesitantly. Dean groaned then silence. Only footsteps coming down the hallway.

I scrambled away from the door, going back to my position on the bed.

The door burst open, revealing Dean, Sam and two other men. One of them had a long tan trench coat over a suit, the tie was backwards. He also had very deep blue eyes and black hair. The other was a bit shorter, he had short dark hair and a beard. He was wearing a black suit.

"Hey, what's the hold up? Dinners ready, chop chop." He said, clapping his hands.

"I'm not hungry." I glared back, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm the boss around here and I say you're hungry." He sneered.

"You can't tell me when I'm hungry, that's ridiculous." I spat back.

"Why I outta-" he began.

"Patience, Dean." Sam said, cutting him off. Dean growled, taking a deep breath.

"Would you come to dinner..."

"Please." The man with the blue eyes said.

"...Please." He said through his teeth. Saying the word almost seemed forced for him.

"Thanks but no thanks. I'm not gonna be bullied by you." I said looking away from him. Mainly because his eyes had flickered to black.

"Fine then, toots! Have fun starving." He said smugly and slammed the door behind him.

"Dean, you can't just let her starve." Sam said, almost like he was pleading.

"You heard her, Sammy. If she doesn't wanna eat. She won't. And don't be sneaking her any food either. We're stuck on this property together until this witch's spell wears off and it only takes a little to piss me off so watch your back." Dean warned, stomping down the hall again. I sat back against the headboard of the bed, rubbing my arms. The door creaked open slightly and in came the man with the trench coat.

"Hello." He said simply, "I am Castiel."

"(Y/N)." I replied, smiling weakly.

He looked around the room, shifting from foot to foot.

"I apologise. My people skills are 'rusty'." He air quoted the word. I chuckled and sat up a bit.

"Listen, Dean wasn't always like this. He was good. We're trying to get him back. We have a cure, but it won't work unless he wants it."

I shook my head, "He seems to enjoy being the way he is."

Castiel moved closer, there was the sound of fluttering feathers when he walked.

"He's losing his humanity. We've tried everything to get it to stay, but it's slipping." He looked up, a wry smile on his face.

---------

Dean grumbled as he made his way to his room, slamming the door behind him. He grabbed a bottle of Jack from his dresser and popped the lid off, downing whatever was left. Then he grabbed an artifact from his dresser. It was an enchanted mirror that showed the reflection of any mirror that you asked to see.

"Show me the girl." He said, slumping down on his messy bed. The mirrors image wobbled but cleared, showing Castiel talking with (Y/N).

"He's a good man. Once you really know him." Cas said. His true form was odd to see through fresh eyes, it was indescribable almost like it kept changing.

"I don't want to know him!" She said, tears falling down her face, "He was going to hurt my father for something he didn't do! I don't want anything to do with him."

Dean's lip wavered in anger, he set the mirror down and took the glass bottle still in his hand and screamed in anger, throwing it against the wall. It shattered on impact.

"Who needs her?" He grumbled, putting his arm behind his head. But there was a tug in his chest, just barely a tug.

-

My stomach growled, bring both my and Castiels attention to it.

"I guess I am hungry." I said sheepishly.

"I could bring you something." He volunteered.

"No... That's alright. I'll get it myself." I didn't want to get him in trouble. I started my way down the hall to the kitchen. As we entered, we saw Sam and the man in the black suit.

Sam smiles at me, "Hey. Did you need something?"

My stomach growled again, "Maybe a snack." I said, sitting at the counter on a bar stool.

"Could have come earlier. When dinner was still warm." The man in the black suit said, sipping a glass of deep red wine, "He even said please, didn't think he knew that word anymore."

"Crowley, just drop it." Sam said, opening the cupboard. Crowley held his hands up in surrender.

"Don't ruffle your antlers, moose." Crowley said, "I was only saying." Castiel moved to the over, grabbing a pan and turning on the burner.

"I got it." He moved to the fridge, getting milk, eggs, butter, and flour.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, looking over what Castiel had in his arms.

"I have been practicing." He said gruffly, beginning to mix everything in a bowl.

Crowley turned to me and gave me a devilish grin, "I don't believe we've been introduced." He held out his free hand, "Crowley, King of Hell. At your service."

"King of what?" I recoiled from his hand.

"Hell, darling. It's an esteemed position and I'll have you know I worked very hard for it." His eyes flickered black. Great. Another one.

"Charmed, I'm sure." He said in my silence.

"Entirely." I said sarcastically.

"I like her." Crowley grinned, going to the bottle of wine that had been left on the counter. I rolled my eyes, my attention brought to the counter in front of me. On a plate were very mishappen but edible looking pancakes. Castiel smiled at them proudly.

"Better than the last batch." Sam said, setting down a glass of water, syrup, a fork and knife. I started to eat. They were actually pretty good and filled my stomach.

"Thanks, guys." I smiled, moving to get up and clean my plate but Sam grabbed everything from my hands.

"I got it. You're our guest." He smiled, moving to the sink.

"You should get to bed." Castiel said, "I shall take you." He smiled and lead me back toward the hall. We passed another hall, a dark hallway. The only thing lit was a door far away.

"Is that the west hallway?" I asked.

"There's nothing there," he said quickly and stopped at the end of the hall, "Goodnight." He turned away, hurriedly walking back to the kitchen area. I started back towards my room but I stopped. I had this feeling in my gut that I needed to see what was down there. It was wrong and could end in disaster... But... My feelings usually weren't wrong. Dad said gut feelings were like the universe telling us how to begin an adventure. And they've never done me wrong yet.

I silently crept towards the hall, making sure to avoid the kitchen area as I went down a small stair case and into the dark hall. Only the light from the last room to guide me. My heart began to race with fear or excitement I couldn't tell. But as I got closer to the room, it seemed to get faster. I got to the door and slowly pushed it open. The room was filled with a soft blue light. As I got closer I found the source. In a glass jar on a table in the middle of the room was a blue wavering light. It was... Beautiful. Mesmerizing really, it's wavering light drew me closer. As I got closer it seemed to get brighter. I slowly reached out to touch it.

"GET AWAY FROM THAT!" Dean's voice shook me as he came closer, he grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I struggled to pull away, but his grip was too tight.

"I TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT! GET OUT OF HERE!" His pitch black eyes seemed to burn into my soul. He shoved me away. I landed on the floor, scooting back.

"GET OUT!" He screamed. I didn't hesitate, I got up and started running. Running faster than I ever had before. I ran past the kitchen where the 3 men still stood.

"(Y/N)!" Sam called. I ignored him and kept going. I scrambled up the long staircase to the top, back in the abandoned house. I made my way out the door and took off into the woods in the direction of town.

"Wait!' I heard Sam's distant voice, "It's dangerous out there! Come back!" I didn't believe him until I heard the howling.

-------------------------------------------------

Oh it's a coming! The plot thickens!

Read part 3 here!

Reblog and like it you liked it! I can't believe I bopped out two of these today.

Requests are open to any of the fandoms listed in my bio!

Taglist (send me an ask to be added!):

@happy-little-marvel

@hobby27

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[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2019 Day 21: Hurt/Comfort (and Whump) 

Lie To Me | @castielslostwings Rating: Explicit Word Count: 27476 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate season 14, canon divergent at s13e23 “let the good times roll”, angst with a happy ending, Michael!Dean, fix-it, pining, temporary MCD, human castiel, casturbation, top Cas/bottom Dean, Sam & Cas brother moments, alcohol as a coping mechanism, Chuck Ex Machina, hurt/comfort, Castiel whump, Dean whump Summary: Castiel and Sam's plan to expel Michael from Dean's body backfires in a big way, leaving them with an unexpectedly human archangel and the horrifying possibility that Dean's soul is gone forever. Can they bring Dean home from wherever he's gone? What will become of a human Michael trapped in Dean's body? How will Castiel survive losing the love of his life, just when things were starting to fall together?

Worlds Away | @hefellfordean Rating: Mature Word Count: 4240 Main Tags and Warnings: Multiple Universes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Interdimensional Travel, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: "In all the infinite, incalculable number of worlds, you don’t love me. But what’s worse, is that I didn’t need to ask to know that I love you in any world, unconditionally – and unrequited.”, Cas says, pulling away from Dean. Castiel is sent to a place between worlds, with infinite doorways through which he must travel to return home. All of the worlds he visits have something in common: Dean doesn't love him. His world is the same - or is it?

Angel Whisperer | @noiproksa Rating: General Word Count: 2767 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt Castiel, Concussions Summary: Taking care of a concussed angel is a lot harder than anticipated. Dean might be out of his depth, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do everything he can to make his angel feel better. (Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)

Anti-Cuddle Curse | @noiproksa Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5155 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt Castiel, Cuddling & Snuggling, Witch Curses, Hurt/Comfort Summary: When a witch curses Team Free Will, Dean realizes how much being able to touch Cas really means to him. (Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)

Touch Deprived | @noiproksa Rating: General Word Count: 4132 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt Castiel, Angel Healing, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Confused by all the human rules for personal space and touching, Cas has to come up with excuses in order to be able to touch Dean and Sam. Or is it the other way around? (Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)

longing for grapefruit | @reallyelegantsharkfish Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1686 Main Tags and Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Recreational Drug Use, Marijuana, Oral Sex, Mental Health Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Shotgunning, Demisexual Castiel Summary: Dean lights up and takes the first hit, but instead of exhaling, he leans over towards Cas. It’s not a proper kiss, breathing in Dean’s air, but it’s intimate, and they take turns sharing hits in between kisses. Cas is flying. Cas can feel everything, Cas is out of his body. “Baby,” Dean says, soft in between them. “Let me make you feel good.”

Green Corners | @rustling-pages Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 72533 Main Tags and Warnings: Elemental Magic AU, (Threat of) Main Character Death, (Past) Child Death, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn Summary: After the death of his son, there is nothing left for Dean other than his garden market. His days are tough, the nights are tougher, but at least there's a reason to get up in the morning. And with the new boom on do-it-yourself garden magic, his business is going okay. Amidst the passing of time, there is only one thing that distracts him from functioning like a normal human being: Diagonally across the street, in the display window of that traditional Herb and Potion shop, plants are dying in masses. Storming in to confront the owner goes differently than he imagined, though. Castiel Novak may be the kind of guy who wears old-fashioned mage robes and keeps his shop in sweltering heat, but he's also a talented herbalist, the kindest soul Dean has ever met, and utterly beautiful. Not that Dean is ready for anything other than friendship. (Not that Cas doesn’t get sick a bit too often.)

The Bone Eater (WIP) | @rachelhaimowitz Rating: Explicit Word Count: 111259 Main Tags and Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Original Male Character(s), Castiel/Original Male Character(s), Hurt/Comfort, Prisoner Dean, Monsters, Dean Whump, Season/Series 09, Set somewhere between Bad Boys and Holy Terror, Size Kink, Non-Consensual Bondage, Violent Sex, Manhandling, Torture, Castiel Whump, Forced Orgasm, Prisoner Castiel, Possessive Behavior Summary: When Dean wakes in a strange prison cell, he quickly realizes he's become another victim of the mystery monster he and Sam have been hunting: a creature who sucks the marrow right out of people's bones. There are years--sometimes decades--between the killings, and no connection between them but men who were big, strong, and healthy when they disappeared. Dean learns right up close and personal why the monster picks who he picks. Unfortunately, stuck behind bars, consistently outmatched, and growing weaker by the day, he's having a tough time putting that information to good use. But Cas can't hear his prayers anymore (and doesn't owe him shit anyway, the way he left the guy), and Zeke might or might not have his ears on (and might or might not let Sam do anything about it even if he did), and Dean ain't no damsel in distress besides. He's gonna get out of there no matter what it takes, and he's damn well gonna make sure this monster never hurts anyone again--especially not the guy he finally finds the courage to admit he loves.

Fighting My Way Back | @deans-jiggly-pudding Rating: Explicit Word Count: 81740 Main Tags and Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, major character death, canon compliant up to S13, Slow Burn, PTSD Summary: Sam, Cas, and Mary are trying and failing to break Dean out of Michael’s stronghold. Jack is exploring his potential while slowly recovering his power. He has the ability to create, but until his grace is at full strength, his creation must be made out of something already existing. Our favorite nephilim has a plan to use his newfound power to snap Dean out of Michael's control, but what will become of Dean after the ejection? And can Team Free Will 2.0 stop Michael before he destroys the world?

don't leave me | @breathingdestiel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1016 Main Tags and Warnings: au, established relationship, angst with a happy ending Summary: Dean is a mess after Cas leaves him. And it's all his fault.

Angeleech | @noiproksa Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 14457 Main Tags and Warnings: hurt/comfort, hurt castiel, case fic, platonic cuddling, sharing a bed, team free will Summary: It was supposed to be an easy hunt, but then everything goes sideways. Dean and Sam have to take care of an injured Cas and find out what is going on with the angel before it is too late.

Keeper of the Garden | @pherryt Rating: Mature Word Count: 5672 Main Tags and Warnings: Perceived MCD but not really, Season 13 Finale Coda, possessed!dean, Michael!Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Saving Dean, Recovering Dean, Angst, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Caretakers Sam and Cas (but mostly Cas), Gardening Dean, Canon, until next season starts anyway, broken!dean, Crazy!Dean, Hurt!Cas, Confessions Summary: Michael backed out of their deal and now Dean's stuck, trapped in his own mind with a crazy Archangel who keeps showing him Cas's death over and over again, keeps making Dean kill Cas over and over again... till he really does and Dean snaps... Finally free of Michael but not of his own sins, Dean is slow to recover from the possession, and is convinced Cas is dead at his own hands. Dean has done a lot of things, both good and bad, but there's nothing that will ever make up for that.

Any Other Day (WIP) | @peanutbutterjelly-pie Rating: Mature Word Count: 21679  Main Tags and Warnings: Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers Summary: Victor just wants to finally enjoy his weekend. But when weird reports of a man in a trench coat having been arrested for murder in some small town in Colorado are coming in and the names of the Winchester brothers are all of a sudden mentioned for the very first time in almost a decade inside the FBI building, Victor needs to kiss his free time goodbye. So instead of spending his days on the couch, eating all the takeout he can find and watching crappy movies, he all at once sees himself confronted with an unstable angel, incapable of controlling his powers, a hunter missing from the scene, nowhere to be found, and the other one worried out of his mind about his family. Yeah, that's not the quiet weekend Victor had been hoping for. At all.

You are my home | @DesiraeLovesDestiel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4774 Main Tags and Warnings: canon verse, bunker fic, post season 11, Castiel whump, love confessions, profound bond, smut, angst Summary: “Cas? Hey buddy, wake up.” Castiel blinked his eyes open slowly, looking up at Dean owlishly before jolting up, nearly clipping Dean’s jaw on the way. “Hey, hey,” Dean said, concern lacing his tone. “You okay, man?” Castiel cleared his throat. “Yes. My apologies, Dean.” “S’okay. You wanna tell me why you’re sleeping in Baby?” Things have settled down since rescuing Sam. Mary is bonding with her sons, and Castiel is nearly back to full capacity, just needing a little sleep here and there. When Dean discovers Cas' unusual resting spot, what starts as a series confessions leads to the emotional healing they both needed.

If This Is To End In Fire | @reaperlove77 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16279 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester Whump, Supernatural Elements, Smut, Anal Sex, Temporary Character Death, Happy Ending, Past Abuse, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Dean-Centric, Haunted Houses, Domestic Violence (not Dean/Cas), BAMF Castiel, Panic Attacks, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Slurs, Bottom Dean, Top Castiel, Gothic Elements Summary: Dean Winchester doesn't trust easy, not after everything he's been through. When he finds a new home and a new job in Kelvin's Point, he's almost ready to believe he also found happiness for the first time in his life. But what does he really know about this Castiel and is their love enough to keep the ghosts from the past away for good?

When Angels Cry | @sweetdaydreamsblog Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1068 Main Tags and Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Mentions of Suicide, Happy Ending, Hurt Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Castiel Summary: Castiel remembers the events that transpired during Dean's last night on Earth, as well as what happened after.

Eyes Shut | @galaxystiel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1493 Main Tags and Warnings: AU, Human!Castiel, alcoholism, drunk driving, supernatural elements, angst with a happy ending Summary: Dean learns a lesson about the dangers of drink-driving, and in the process learns a few things about his future.

And I swear | @notfunnydean Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4413 Main Tags and Warnings: abusive relationship, Dean dates Arthur Ketch at first, hurt!Dean, break up between Arthur and Dean, first time, first kiss, bottom!Dean, top!Cas, crying Dean, Cas saves Dean Summary: Dean knows that Arthur is treating him badly, but he had worse in his life and besides, it’s not like the person he really loves wants him back.

I'm a sucker for you | @notfunnydean Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3148 Main Tags and Warnings: Drunk!Dean, hurt!Cas Summary: Dean knows he and Castiel are a good team, but he only talks about his feelings for Castiel when he’s drunk and doesn’t remember their kisses in the morning. Someday Castiel has enough.

Event Horizon | @cas-lost-grace Rating: Mature Word Count: 6442 Main Tags and Warnings: Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Dean, Depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Past Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst,Texting, Sharing a Bed, Happy Ending, Veteran Dean, Doctor Dean, Writer Castiel Summary: Castiel couldn't have helped his sister. That's why being offered a chance to help somebody else dealing with suicidal thoughts he took it without hesitation. When he gets the first text from someone who needs his help, nothing goes as he expected.

Finding You, in Pieces of Me | @lunastories Rating: Mature Word Count: 21263 Main Tags and Warnings: Trueform Castiel, Angst with a happy ending, Post Sam's fall into the pit Summary: Dean is jaded after the loss of his brother and left with little to no hope in humanity. Castiel decides to show the world and humanity from his perspective so that Dean can regain the spark that he’s lost. They visit seven locations that have significance to Castiel. From the Cave of Crystals inhabited by an ancient eel spirit, to the Atacama Desert haunted by a heartbroken woman, Dean goes through a journey of self discovery. Slowly, Dean falls for Castiel and the world the angel sees.

Love me to Death | @lunastories Rating: Mature Word Count: 9219 Main Tags and Warnings: Death!Dean, Temporary Character Death, Reincarnation, Angst, Self harm Summary: There once was a man who feared Death. He feared him so much he tried to seek immortality, but his efforts were in vain. Eventually, he learned to love Death and everything he represented. This is the story of a mortal and a god and their love for one another.

Mixtapes (WIP) | silverstar2419 (Wattpad) Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 8407 Main Tags and Warnings: Depression, dealing with depression, mentions of attempted suicide Summary: Two years ago Dean tried to kill himself but Bobby stepped in and saved his life. Now he deals with his unwanted life the same he used to, strippers and beer. What happens when he finds out the person he loves as more than a friend (or brother for that matter) has the same feelings? Let's find out.

What We Ache For | @almaasi Rating: Explicit Word Count: 93115 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Sex Work, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff, Consent, Sex Worker Castiel, Demisexual Castiel, Police Officer Dean, Affectionate Dean, Dean bottoms for the first time, Making Love, Cuddling and Snuggling, Injury Recovery, Temporary Amnesia, Supportive Sam, Castiel loves dogs, Domestic Fluff Summary: Working as a prostitute (that’s ‘sex worker’ to the decent folks), Castiel has heard more than his fair share of odd requests. When he’s paid to spend a night with Dean Winchester (handsome, dork of all dorks, has a nice car... secretly a cop), the last thing Castiel expects to hear are the words “I wanna make love.” That's the one thing he’s never done before – so Dean is going to show him how to do it. But then, barely a month after that night is over, Castiel finds himself in a difficult situation, and Dean is mistakenly summoned to help. They begin to share again: Dean’s apartment, the spare bed, their deepest secrets. Over time, with the support of Dean’s brother Sam, a mystery dog, and lots of cuddles, kisses, comfort, and tea, maybe Cas can finally be loved the way he deserves.

Lost Night | @almaasi Rating: General Word Count: 2608 Main Tags and Warnings: Canon Universe, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Brief Angst, Pre-Slash, Best Friends, Holding Hands, Dreams, Dreamwalking, Lucid Dreaming, Angel Castiel, Sad Dean, Mutual Pining Summary: Dean is so afraid of losing his best friend that he dreams Cas is floating away. His longing is great enough that the real-life Castiel is summoned, dreamwalking into Dean's subconscious – and, as The Beatles once said: "the minute you let him under your skin... then you begin to make it better..."

Unconditional | @almaasi Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2676 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Unconditional Love, Human Castiel, Injured Castiel, Caring Dean, Abused Dean, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Abusive John Winchester Summary: Over the years, Dean's learned a lot about himself, and the way he loves those around him. Now Cas is back from the dead, and he came back human - and hurt. As Dean soothes Cas' wounds in the front seat of the Impala, an ache in his heart drives him to find words to explain.

Mostly in Silence | @almaasi Rating: General Word Count: 4216 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romance, Depression, Executive Dysfunction, Mental Health Issues, Self Care, Fallen Angel Castiel, Human Castiel, Castiel in the Bunker, Depressed Castiel, Sick Castiel, Caring Dean, Stargazing, Stars, Holding Hands, First Kiss, Poetic, No Spoilers, Always Keep Fighting, You are not alone Summary: Dean returns home to the bunker, only to find Castiel is lost in a deep depression. Taking their cues from the night sky (perhaps holding hands, perhaps sharing their first kiss), Dean helps Castiel rediscover a small but shining sense of hope.

Delirium and Doctor Sexy | @almaasi Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 9388 Main Tags and Warnings: Crack, Comfort, Fluff, Pre-Slash, Doctor Sexy M.D., Hunt Gone Wrong, Dean Hallucinates, Age Regression/De-Aging (mentally only), Bisexual Dean, Closeted Dean, Innocent Dean, Character Analysis, Dean Projects His Insecurities, Dean in Panties, Magic Made Them Do It, Sexual References, No Sex, Unresolved Romantic Tension Summary: Dean got hit by a wave of magical gas while protecting Sam, and now he's curled up in a motel bed, watching comfort TV on his laptop and hallucinating. Cas hangs around to look after him. But Dean thinks the friendly angel at his bedside is actually his favourite fictional beefcake, Dr. Sexy, M.D.. With all inhibitions on standby, Dean might admit a few things about himself he never dared to tell anyone before.

Dean, 2 pm | @sternchencas Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1464 Main Tags and Warnings: suicidal thoughts, emotional hurt/comfort Summary: Cas is done with his life. He's ready to end it all. The only thing that might be able to change his mind is one little note in his calendar that says 'Dean, 2 pm'.

Patch Me Up | @babybluecas Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1426 Main Tags and Warnings: canon universe, fallen!Cas, minor injury Summary: When Dean gets injured on a hunt, it's Cas's turn to take care of him.

Oh Death, Bring Him Back | @envydean Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3984 Main Tags and Warnings: Modern AU, accountant!Cas, mechanic!Dean, hurt!Dean, Temporary Character Death, two-sided unrequited love, Pining, Major Character Injury, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff, First Kiss, Supernatural but Dean and Cas don't know about it, So much begging Summary: Dean is badly hurt after a bar fight and Castiel goes to see him only to find out that the news isn't good. However, supernatural forces are on their side. Castiel follows the doctor quickly, barely a pace behind him. It's as bad as he feared. What if he doesn't get the chance to tell Dean that he loves him. Even if Dean doesn't love him back. The room is reminiscent of a war zone. Several people are crowded around Dean's body. There's blood everywhere, machines going haywire and doctors barking orders. Castiel is frozen to the spot.

Don't Let Go | @envydean Rating: Mature Word Count: 28578 Main Tags and Warnings: EMT!Castiel, mechanic!Dean, alcoholic!Dean, Alcoholism, Car Accidents ,Hospitals, Recovery, PTSD, Descriptions of Injury, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Trying to fall in love Summary: Dean Winchester’s life is a mess. Ever since his father’s death, a downward spiral has seen his occasional beer become something of a crutch. Then, a revelation has him going to see his brother in California—except he doesn’t make it and ends up in a nasty accident, destroying the Impala. Air rescue paramedic, Castiel, and his partner Benny are the ones to pull him out of the wreck and that’s just the start of it. He forms a tentative friendship with Dean and manages to convince him he needs help and that he can be there for Dean. It should have been all uphill from there—because getting sober is easy, right?—except it isn’t and their relationship is thrown into turmoil at the wrong time. Slowly, they learn to accept each other once again.

Like Sands Through The Hourglass | BiP (AO3) Rating: General Word Count: 1643 Main Tags and Warnings: illness Summary: It's always Florida, and it's always witches.

Battle of Mind and Body | @light-in-my-darkness Rating: Explicit Word Count: 164466 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Sexual Content, PTSD, Whump, Slow Build, Additional Warnings in Notes Summary: A confession. A car accident. A coma. The results of which lead Castiel and Dean on a destructive path. Their family and friends fight to alter that path, but without knowing the truth of that fateful night, they fear their efforts will fail. Determined to box up the pain and humiliation, Castiel falls into depression and self-harm. In the aftermath of that night, Dean confronts his own demons. Both the angel and the hunter struggle to repair the broken pieces of themselves. As they try, will the dark nature of their world stay at bay long enough for them to heal or will it shatter any progress they made?

Taker of Souls | jscribbles (AO3) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 128664 Main Tags and Warnings: temporary major character death, Minor Character Death, Pining, Slow Burn, non-con, dub-con, Blood, Gore, Body mutilation, Self Harm, zombie-type characters, Hallucinations, Nightmares, horror-imagery, shameless use of horror movie tropes, offensive language/insults, spoilers for The Witch ,the boys cry, Sickness, Sweat ,Mud, Possession, canon-calibre discussions of religion, the evil dead 2013 Crossover, Inspired By, Smut, minor prescription drug use, Vomiting, Summary: The angels have fallen. Castiel is human, Sam is recovering from the trials, and Dean doesn’t want to expose them to the world as it’s crumbling outside the bunker doors. To pass time in their solitude, Dean discovers a hidden room in the bunker full of dangerous magical artifacts and accidentally exposes his friends and family to an ancient horror. If Castiel thought adjusting to humanity was already a terror in itself, he experiences a world of pain when the ancient spirit Dean released chooses him as a vessel to fulfill its evil prophecy. Castiel begins to change as voices call out to him in the night and take the form of the one righteous man he desires, temptation drawing him to complete a ritual that will allow one of Hell’s most feared ancient entities to occupy his vessel. Before Sam, Dean, Kevin and Crowley know what is happening, they are thrown into a lockdown, unable to escape the bunker as the cruel, twisted monster inside of Castiel prowls the hallways, hunting them, thirsty for their blood, hungry for their souls.

[milapa6]

Snowglobe

So I decided to do the Destiel Advent Calendar thing. I have never done anything like this before. This was intended to be more Destiel but kind of ended up Saileen more so and found family, but here it is anyway.

Word count: 869

Snow globe

Three trees stand next to each. Branches bare and silvery snow floats lightly down on to the branches and the ground surrounding. A music box Silent Night plays softly and slowly. All is calm, all is quiet. The flicker of a flame reflects off the smooth glass encompassing the trees.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel stand in a crowded line looking at the fire, about six feet in length and thin. Their faces are gaunt, the faces of people who have seen too much. An acrid smell fills the air as ash settles down casting a black shadow over the orb of the snow globe.

“Let’s go home.” Dean says turning from the body and letting it burn.

Sam and Cas solemnly nod and turn to follow.

“Merry freakin Christmas" Dean mutters as they climb into the impala.

“Not every Christmas ends this way.” Cas says with an edge of softness in his voice, but still coming out more bitter than he means.

“Yeah, some of them end with killing vamps instead.” Sarcasm.

“Dean…” Sam says softly trying to remind him not everything is wrong in the world. “We’ve had worse.”

“Two years ago you were possessed by Michael.” Cas (un)helpfully reminds them.

Sam gives a weak smile. Dean just pointedly looks forward and ignores the comment.

Silence reigns during the drive back to the bunker. Walking in to the common area, the three men are greeted by two bright smiling faces.

“Merry Christmas!” they shout standing in front of a recently erected and lit tree.

Sam gives a weak smile and signs ‘Merry Christmas’

Dean and Cas look stunned.

“Where did all this come from?” Cas asks looking around. The bunker is adorned with green sprigs and glowing white lights. Little wrapped boxes sit underneath the tree, and small trinkets of decoration sit on all the flat surfaces.

Jack smiled. “We went to a store.”

“And bought all this?” Dean asks.

Eileen shrugs. “Credit fraud.”

This time Sam gives a real smile and goes to Eileen to give her a huge hug, pulling away with his pinky, index finger and thumb extended.

“We have hot chocolate in the kitchen.” Jack says bouncing eagerly. “Eileen tells me it’s a traditional Christmas drink. We even have liquor for it.”

Dean almost rolls his eyes but stops himself seeing Jack's excitement. It is Jack's first real Christmas after all. “Great. I could use some.” Dean stomps into the kitchen.

“Dean.” Cas follows.

Jack turns to Sam. “What’s wrong with him?”

Sam shakes his head. “He’s just in a bad mood...we haven’t exactly had the greatest of Christmases.”

“Oh, should we not have done this?” Jack asks, his face falling.

“No, this is great.” He looks over at Eileen. “Really.”

“Dean.” Cas says following Dean into the kitchen.

Dean swings around. “I’m mean, what the hell is this? We go off on a hunt, have to burn an innocent guy, and we come back to freaken’ Christmas?!”

“Dean,” Cas says with an exasperated sigh. “We can’t blame him. This is his third Christmas. He’s been in the world long enough to know about it.”

“Yeah, but Cas,” Dean gestures out to the heavily decorated kitchen, “this?”

“It’s not hurting anything, Dean. Let’s just try and relax for once. The worlds not ending this time.”

Dean regards Cas through the top of his eyes while to cracks open a beer. “I guess you’re right...hey, poor me me one of those toxic hot chocolates would ya.”

Cas obliges and they emerge from the kitchen, Cas carrying two mugs, Dean having already downed his beer.

They each take a seat around the table as Sam goes to get hot chocolate for him and Eileen. Jack already had a virgin one in his hands.

“So the gifts under the tree,” Dean says.

“At least one for everyone,” Eileen answers.

Sam shakes his head. “We didn’t get anyone anything.”

“Oh that’s okay." Jack says with a smile.

“We got ourselves something too.” Eileen finishes.

Sam gives a bit of an awkward smirk. “I may have kind of got you something too.”

“Okay, enough with the mushy stuff you guys.” Dean says. “If we're going to have presents let’s open them.”

Everyone agrees and somehow Dean ends up playing Santa. After each gift is exchanged, underware here, magazines there, and many laughs were had, Sam snuck off to his room in the bunker.

He returned momentarily with a small box for Eileen, wrapped in news paper.

“It might not be much, but I hope you like it anyway.”

Eileen's eyes glowed as she unwrapped the gift. “It’s beautiful, Sam.” In the box lay a small ring, with a little blue gem. It fit perfectly on Eileen's finger.

“I have one more gift.” Sam said after many hugs, kisses, and pats on the back.

“Dean,” Sam held out a box to Dean, wrapped in newspaper.

Dean scrunched his eyebrows. “For me?”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas.”

Dean cautiously opened the box. In it, a little snow globe. A multitude of trees stand tall. White snow floats gently down onto lush branches and piles on the ground. A music box Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas plays.

Fin

[fairyofthemoonandstars]

No light in your bright blue eyes (End III - Part II)

Read Part I and Part II

Read Part I of this ending 

Part II- It's so easy, to say it to a crowd but it's so hard, my love, to say it to you out loud

The next morning, when she finally woke up from what seemed a horrible nightmare, she was in a totally different room. She was dressed in a purple sleeping gown. Everything was so blurry. How did she end up in this room? Dressed in purple? If Ms.Venable found her here she would have a serious problem.  

Where was Michael? What happened to him when he left the room? She thought that she felt him during her sleep, his presence next to her. That was probably a hallucination. The only thing she knew is that nothing of this situation was normal and there was only one reason why. 

What did he want from her? Why was she suddenly at the place of a purple? She stumbled out off bed. Why was she so weak? It didn’t felt right when the room started to turn around itself. She forced herself to stand up, helping her way to the bathroom with the wall. 

Her reflection on the mirror was the exact same. Nothing had changed on her face, so why did she felt so different? What has he done to her? She looked at herself so scared of what could appear in the mirror. Did he change her to be more like him? 

She jumped out of place when she heard the door of her room opened. Whoever that might be, it wasn’t good news. There is nobody in this universe that she wanted to see. She wasn’t in shape to welcome anyone.  

-You shouldn’t be out of bed. 

It was Michael, and to her surprise, he was worried about her state. However, she had n’t digested what he had done to her. Although she wanted to cry, she kept herself together, acting as cold as ice. 

-What do you want? 

-You should get some rest 

-What have you done to me? 

She knew he had done something, and she wanted nothing to do with him. As he approached her, like a wild animal she started to get tense. He could feel it, but that wasn’t going to stop him. 

-Don’t touch me. 

He wasn’t even next to her, but her warning wasn’t scaring him. And she only wished it did, because she really meant no harm to him. She was only protecting herself. And as his hand gently touched her bare skin, Michael found himself flying down to the bedroom. 

-I told you not to touch me. She screamed out. 

The young man had difficulty to stand up and deep down she hoped that this had hurt him, even a little bit. She didn’t mean too much harm, she was incapable of it, but she found herself in a situation she didn’t like. So she lashed out the only way she knew. 

When her magic leaves back her body, she fell on the cold floor. Michael approaches her with much more precaution this time, one of his hand went gently on her cheeks. He waited for her to accept his touch before taking her body into his arms.

She cried her eyes out, and Michael waited patiently for her to calm down, telling her that he was here, that she wasn’t alone. They had reversed the roles, when he was younger she was the one to comfort him. Now everything had changed, but for her he let down the facade he had built. 

When the storm had finally passed they were enjoying each other warmth. She raised her head and their faces were only a few centimeters from each other. She didn’t mean to, but it felt so natural. They spent what felt like a decade looking at each other, the blue of his iris was mesmerizing. He broke the small space between them, his nose caressing hers. 

For the first time, she felt that need to feel him, his lips against hers, his hands on her body in a way he had never touch her. She felt so guilty, she wasn’t allowed to feel that for him. He was a man now, not the little boy she used to know. There was no denying of the tension that was filling the atmosphere. 

Michael put an end at her questionnement, the same was haunting his head as well, but he wasn’t a little boy anymore and he wanted her. So he pressed his lips against hers, he had no attention to let her go now that he had her all for himself. It was sweet and rough as he deepened the kiss, leading their body to the bed. They were ready to give themselves up to the other. At this moment, cut in time, there was only the two of them. 

                                                          **

Her eyes opened slightly only to be filled with the darkness of the room. She finally had the sleep she deserved, it was warm, welcoming and peaceful. But that peace was only short-lived, when she realized he wasn’t on her side anymore. Michael’s place in the bed was empty, and a bitter-sweet feeling came to her.

With one flick of a hand, she lighted up all the candles in the room. But no signs of him what so ever. She was happy, really, she couldn’t deny that his love for her was bringing her joy. All the « I love you » he had given her in one single night in satin bed was surreal, especially for Michael. She answered every single one of them, a strangled feeling of love in her stomach. It was perfect. But yet she was so desperate to see him gone from her side, she thought she had won him on her side forever. The reality was quite the opposite, he had her on his side. 

The clock on her side reminds her that she had missed the Halloween Party that Ms. Venable gladly prepared. Something was wrong with Ms.Venable inviting everyone, even the greys, at the party. However she missed being by her friends’ side. But now that she was made a purple by Mr. Landgon’s commands, she could just wander around and not fear Ms.Venable anymore. 

She found only one thing in her closet that wasn’t some kind of Victorian purple’s gown. She wasn’t really fond of purple, but that silky soft dress will do much better than a corset. She found herself more comfortable barefoot, liking the sensation of the cold floor. So she left the room like this, the dress was maybe too revealing but she couldn't care less. 

Wandering around the endless corridor, she found not a soul who lived. She assumed they were all enjoying the party in the common room, but yet as she approached there was not a sound coming from there. She found herself overlooking the room from the balcony that had the room. The vision was horrific. Every single one of the Outpost’s residents were dead. She ran down the stairs, almost falling. She looked over every single body, they seemed to have been poisoned. However, she couldn’t find the body of Dinah Stevens, Coco or her dear friend Mallory. 

At first panic came, she was lost, had no clue what to do. She hoped for Mallory to be still alive somewhere, she had brought herself back to life but she had never tried on anybody else. Her thought then went to Michael, if anyone knew what happened it would be him.

She tried to push away the idea that he was responsible. But yet, she couldn’t lie to herself, she knew he was somehow responsible for this. When she arrived in his room, he wasn’t there. 

-That must be a joke. She told herself out loud 

Before she realized that Ms. Venable’s body was lying dead on the ground. She approached slowly, and show the blood on her white shirt, a single bullet through her heart. Not that she felt particularly sorry for her, no she was an atrocious person. But yet her death was strange. 

Her thought were cut out short because of a loud noise coming from the hallway. An explosion, but she wasn’t sure what had caused it. Were there some outsiders inside? Maybe Michael wasn’t the reason of this slaughter. The explosion was followed but multiple gunshots and she felt it again. That sensation in her stomach, punching her. The same she felt when Constance died leaving Michael all alone and afraid. Something had happened to him, she knew it. 

She rushed out of the room in the direction of the hallway. There were some screams coming from somewhere else inside. They were not alone inside. When she arrived in the hallway the first thing she saw was him. Michael was laying against the wall, in a pool of his own blood. His eyes were barely opened and she couldn’t tell if he was dead or fighting for life. 

Then her eyes caught the Blondie who hold the gun. It didn’t take her long to recognize her, it was Madison Montgomery, the witch that came to ask questions about Michael in Murder House. It seemed that she was surprised to see Y/N. Anger was growing inside of the young witch body as she approached slowly downstairs. 

-Do you really think you are the only one who can escape your personal hell, Madison? She sang with irony. 

While the two witches were focused on each other, Michael worked his magic to get back all the blood lost inside his body. It’s only when he stood up that Y/N looked at him with relief, on the other side, Madison hadn’t time to arm the gun again that her head exploded out of her body. 

Even for a witch, that was too much to take, even for a witch like Y/N who had seen so much blood and horrors. She was stuck into place, her eyes wide open looking through nothing but emptiness. Until warm arms circled her body softly, she started panting painfully. His touch wasn’t enough, and he had no time to comfort her. 

She heard him speak, but it was like she was underwater, she was out this world. He had no time, but he couldn’t bear to leave her here, alone, scared and lost. Plus, she was an easy weapon to use against him. He kissed her softly, hoping that a kiss would bring her back to reality. And it did when she responds by kissing him back. With regrets, he quickly put an end to it. 

-We have to go. He pressed, his eyes staring back to hers. Mallory is going to erase me from the planet. 

-What? Wait Michael, what do you mean? Mallory is alive? 

-Yes yes, we have no time. Please, she can use Tempus Infinitum. He grabbed her hand, leading their way upstairs.

During all her studies, Y/N has been told that Tempus Infinitum was only a legend, nobody was capable of such a thing. The only magical creatures that were known to be capable to do so was angels, Archangel Saint Michael’s descents. But all the angels were gone from earth, for thousands of years. 

It came like a revelation to her, Mallory wasn’t just a normal witch, like Michael wasn’t just a warlock. She might be the direct descendant of the Archangel. As the evil was born into Michael, the good was born into Mallory. And their destiny were to destroy one another. It made perfect sense and yet Y/N refused to live by destiny and fate, like she once refused to believe that Michael was born only for evil. 

His hand pressing gently on hers was her anchor to reality. When they both faced Marie Laveau, a powerful Voodoo Queen as she had learned in her coven, he stopped. To her great despair, she couldn’t see his face as he was looking at the Voodoo witch in front of him, but she could feel the amusement. They really thought that anything could stop him.

-I take care of this one, go. He said before letting go of her hand. 

-Michael …

-I said: Go! 

As he turned to look at her, his face was severe. There was no more explanation needed as she ran away from them. He knew that she couldn’t take any more of him killing people, and he had no attention to spare anyone who stood on his way. 

When Y/N heard the screams, she stopped a moment. What was she capable to forgive for love? She didn’t know, and she was actually scared of the answer. But if there was no one to forgive, then all of this would be for nothing. As she rushed around the corridor, she thanked the hours she spent washing the floor. 

And she finally found them, the rest of the witches. Mallory was there in a pool, almost unconscious, while Cordelia was holding her head up. Myrtle looked up at the young witch who just entered the room, she was suspicious. For good reason, Y/N was on Michael’s side, and yet she could help to feel hurt when she saw her friend in such a state. 

She kneeled next to them, and grabbed Mallory hand into hers. They all looked at her, Mallory couldn’t help to give her a soft smile, although she had regained her memories, she still remembered the support Y/N had given her during the time at the Outpost. 

-You’re alive. She mouthed softly, crying out as she saw her friend slowly fade away. No,  no, Mallory, no. Do you hear me? Stay with me. 

Why? Why her life couldn’t just be easy? Mallory dead was the solution to keep Michael alive, by her side. But yet she could come with the fact of leaving her friend die. There was something that could never be taken out of her, it was empathy. So much empathy for the living, she gave so much importance to life. She had never killed, and she was actually afraid to. 

-He is here. Myrtle informed Cordelia. 

The supreme stood up, and went to face him in the corridor. The conversation was pretty intense between the two of them, and yet Y/N couldn’t care less. All her focus was on Mallory, trying to keep her alive, comforting her. She knew it, she had been through death, it is a cold and lonely place until you realized where you are. 

Here her only concern was her friend, the one that had been here for her. She couldn’t help to feel guilty when her magic couldn’t bring her back. She tried Vitalum Vitalis, again and again, but it seemed to be a power that she didn’t have in her possession. 

-Cordelia! Myrtle cried out. 

The all room was filled with her sorrow, as Myrtle watched her dearest friend Cordelia plunged the knife through her heart. But Y/N’s attention went back directly to Mallory as she came back to herself, in shock but breathing. What she didn’t know is that Mallory was the next Supreme and Cordelia’s death had made her more powerful than before. 

-Tempus Infinitum. Screamed Mallory, creating the spell to return back in time. 

Everything else happened too fast for comprehension. A hand on her waist, the water around her, then everything was dark. And before she knew she was just in front of Murder House, where everything started. 

Michael was here too, he had dragged them both into Mallory’s spell, expending it so they could join the same space and time as the witch. They were both lost when they arrived, pushed back again the grass, they rolled for a few meters before stopping her body on top of his. 

Before she finally realized what had happened it was already too late to undo anything. She slapped him violently before standing up. Michael took a little longer to get back to himself as he used a lot of magic to take them here, but the burnt in his face brought him back to reality. 

-What have you done? She yelled at him 

Everyone who had been looking to the two strangely dressed persons had now hide back where they could, not wanting to worsen the anger of the girl. Her body was looking over his and for once she was the one in control. 

-If I can kill Mallory there I will do it now. 

-Do you ever think before you do something, do you? You are such a selfish and stupid asshole! You just erase yourself from this time by bringing us here. 

She was insensitive to his face, clearly confused and scared. Yes, he was scared of her, him the Great Antichrist scared of a Witch. He didn’t want to let anything through as he stood up, he took him some strength because for some reason he didn’t explain, he was really weak. 

Y/N was mad as hell about him. But yet to see him so weak, his face writhed with pain, she could help but to feel herself hurt as much. She didn’t understand what was happening to the powerful Michael Langdon, until she saw him. 

A younger version of Michael just passed the door of Murder House. His eyes were swollen with tears. He looked so young and vulnerable. But how could he be here, if Michael’s presence by her side had erased him. However the exact opposite of what she thought was happening. It was the older version of Michael who was fading away. Time was a dangerous thing to mess with and Michael was paying the price. 

The scene seemed surrealist as the two Michael made eye contact. The younger version of himself looked scared and lost as he observed the blood all around his older self. Then he saw her, his only hope at the moment, since his grandmother had rejected him. Y/N was for him, the closest thing to a mother while for his older version she was the love of his life. 

Tears rolled down her cheeks as this innocent version of him made his way to them. While the Michael on her side was going his way to him, they were attracted to each other like magnets. But then came the shock. A car rushing through the street drive over Michael, the innocent boy was projected on the floor already bleeding.  

Time seemed to freeze as the two adults on the other side of the road screamed watching him crawled on the floor. For him, it was the pain, his pain projecting into his body. For her, it was the horror of seeing this innocent boy that she loved so much hurt like this. But as they started running over them, the car reversed to run over Michael’s body once more. 

Constance came out of the house, she froze to place when she saw her grandson on the floor. But then her focus, as well as everyone else came to the driver of that car. Mallory. The witch stopped to look over at her friend, blocked in the middle of the road. It was hurting her to see her cry, but that monster by her side had killed every single person that counted for Mallory. 

-Mallory, I’m begging you. Stop! She screamed at her, hoping that her despair will make her friend change her mind. 

She couldn’t read the expression on Mallory’s face, so she decided to rush over Michael’s side, to protect him. He was already in agony, but maybe she could prevent him from suffering even more. She closed her eyes when she heard the car roaring again, and as if her prayers were answered, Mallory drove forward avoiding them. 

As soon as this craziness was over, her lover kneeled next to them. He was watching his grandmother, crying silently as he mouthed an apology. In the meanwhile, his younger self was gaging, the pain was unbelievable. 

-Y/N ….I .I .I’m scared. 

-It’s alright, I’m here, I’m right here, I’m not leaving you I promise. She cried. 

His head was resting on her laps as she was rocking him. Gently caressing his hair, making him feel her presence. She was only looking at his blue eyes, nothing matters more than his eyes. Until another asked for her attention. 

-Y/N … 

His body was becoming more and more transparent. He was disappearing, because it couldn’t exist two of him in the same place and time. Those were the rules of time and space and even the Antichrist himself couldn’t fight them. 

-Bring me back …

-I can’t. She was drowning in tears. I don’t have this power … I can’t. 

-You can! He assured her. You can save him, you can save me. I believe in you. 

He looked at her one last time, as his older conscience was disappearing, he mouth one last time « I love you ». The sharp pain she felt at that moment was even more monstrous than the pain of getting her heart ripped out of her. She screamed but not a noise was getting out of her throat, it was too strong that she thought she died again. 

But then she came back to reality when the boy on her lap was fighting for his life. But it was only a question of seconds, before his life left his body with his final breath. The shock of him, her little boy dying was such that she had forgotten everything around her. She only remembered his voice, he believed in her, she couldn’t be a disappointment. 

So she tried it, Vitalum Vitalis, give him a bit of her breath before inhaled again. But it didn’t work. She lost him, twice, on the same day. She was beating herself up for not succeeding, why, why was she capable to bring herself back but not her loved one. What was the point of she could keep them safe?

-I’m sorry. Her head pressed against his chest, she was crying a river over his body. 

But then she heard it, his heart beating slowly before he emerged back. He was searching for air as he rose to be seated. She didn’t understand how, but for all she cared is that he was alive, that’s the only thing that mattered. She captured his face between her hands befogging kissing gently his forehead. 

-Don’t let me die again. It’s scary. His voice was so innocent and pure. 

She laughed of relief as she took him in an embrace, holding him tight. At this moment she felt as if all the bad that one inhabited him had left with his older self. 

-I promise you.

Read Ending I - Ending II

[impala-dreamer]

The Chosen - Part One

Rebekah’s Story

Written and conceived by @impala-dreamer​ and @covered-byroses​

~If there was a chance to save Dean, a chance to save her friend...why wouldn’t she take it?~

In Order of Appearance: Kelly, Michael, Y/N, Rebekah, Sam, Castiel, Dean

8,253 Words 

Warnings: Angst. Plotting. Character Injury. Lies and Deception. All the Angst. 

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There was a single beam of light that snuck through the curtain each night and Kelly liked to play with it; running her fingers across the hardwood floor as if they were dancing on stage in a spotlight. It was stupid, she knew, but it was entertaining. Funny how something so simple could make her smile now. There wasn’t anything else for her. Not since he came and took over her life.

The cage was small but not too small, made to house a larger dog while its owner was away. But Kelly was small herself and was able to curl up with her pillow and favorite blanket, waiting for him to come back from wherever he went everyday.

And he always came back.

Some days she woke up and Michael was gone, others he was there, sitting at her desk; her laptop open, making his way across social media with a dexterity of one who’d been at it for years. She almost regretted now showing him how it all worked; almost. It was, after all what had brought him to her, and Michael seemed to revel in the attention that her blog offered him. He was recruiting, she knew, whether the other users realized it or not, and Michael was enjoying the adoration of those who threw themselves at his virtual feet.

Tonight, he sat before her, computer fan buzzing as he bounced between blogs, ‘answering prayers’ as he like to say.

Kelly lay still on the floor of her kennel, watching his thick fingers navigate the keys, wondering how much longer until he tired of this game and set her free. Deal was, she had until the end of the month to give in and join his crusade or be killed. Ten days later, she was actually getting used to the cage, to being held hostage, to him. Maybe it was early stages of Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe she was too tired to care anymore. Didn’t matter. It was what it was. Her life was thin metal bars and an Archangel now.

Michael made a noise that was almost a laugh and Kelly picked her head up from her pillow.

“Do you know this… Bamby person?” he asked, not bothering to look back at her as he spoke.

Kelly sat up and crossed her legs, stretching her arms a bit as she thought. “I mean, not really, really. We talk sometimes. I don’t know her off-line. Why?”

“She amuses me,” he said simply, tapping away at the keyboard. “She responds with pictures of kittens and likes me to call her my… pet.”

Kelly laughed and picked at a wayward string on the hem of her pants. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Michael went silent again, which wasn’t at all unusual. There were nights when he never spoke a word, simply sitting in the dark living room, staring at nothing, planning, waiting. Kelly never understood what he was up to, but she sure as hell had learned not to question him.

Kelly’s ears perked when Michael hummed at the glow of the computer screen. “Like putty,” he breathed. Unease churned in her gut at the archangel’s murmur - whatever he was planning couldn’t be good.

MIchael pushed his chair back, the wheels rolling audibly over the dusty floor. Kelly held her breath as he rose to Dean’s towering height. He turned slowly toward her, shoulders relaxed, head at a slight tilt. “I have a surprise for you,” he smiled, teeth gleaming in the low light. “I think you’ll like it.”

Kelly shakily released her breath and swallowed, very sure that she would, in fact, not like whatever scheme he had concocted.

The Archangel didn’t wait for a response, however. He simply turned on polished heels before leaving the room, clicking the door shut behind him. Kelly was left alone with nothing but her own racing thoughts once again.

Michael had left the laptop open, and if she squinted, Kelly could just make out the blur of the tiny text lining the screen. She leaned forward, pulling up to her knees, small hands curled around the bars of her cage.

It was an ask, of that Kelly was certain - but she couldn’t quite make out the sender. She shifted her weight, kneed her way as little closer, and pressed her forehead against the cool metal.

‘impaladreamer-main asked:’

Kelly’s heart lurched to her throat - Beka? Why would-

The sound of the door opening ripped her from her panicked thoughts.

Michael stood tall, chin lifted, eyes downcast as he gazed down at his captive. Kelly felt a tremble ripple through her as Michael twisted Dean’s full lips into an icy smirk.

“We’re going to have some company soon.”

The Bunker was quiet for once. The only time that happened anymore was in the wee hours of morning, before the crowds emerged from the labyrinth of rooms and made their way into the common areas. In a few short hours the atmosphere would shift into a controlled chaos, the tiled walls catching a dozen voices and duplicating them as they shot them back into the room.

Y/N liked the quiet. It reminded her of old times. Not that she’d been around forever, just before the sudden influx of new residents to the Bunker. Still, the calm before the daily storm was comforting, and she always tried to wake up early now to get some time alone with the old building.

A curious frown painted her face as Y/N stepped into the kitchen. The coffee pot was already on and brewing, meaning she was not the only one awake. The room was empty, however, and Y/N shrugged as she rubbed at her eyes and walked to the fridge.

It wasn’t exactly easy to cook for upwards of twenty people, but she felt funny cooking for just the four of them, and Sam didn’t eat much anymore anyway. He’d rush through in about an hour and grab an apple before heading out. Beka would sit and eat with her some mornings, and Jack was always around sniffing for a snack, but it wasn’t the same without Dean. Nothing was.

As loud as the place was, it lacked a certain spark. Whatever laughter Dean always brought to the world was gone now, taken away by that evil bastard, along with Dean himself. Y/N knew they’d get him back. They had to. But it was taking too long and the leads were thinning day by day. He’d been too long gone and it was getting harder to remember what his laugh sounded like bouncing around the kitchen.

She cracked two dozen eggs and got to work, eager to shake the blues away.

The smell of the bacon in the oven almost made her cry.

The sound of company behind her made her jump.

“Oh my god!” Y/N spun around, spatula in hand, and saw Beka at the coffee pot. “You scared the bejeezus out of me.”

“Sorry.” It was a passing apology, and Beka didn’t even bother with eye contact.

“You… OK?”

“Mhm.” Beka kept her back to Y/N as she filled her silver travel mug with fresh coffee and pressed the lid into place.

Y/N clicked her tongue at her friend’s standoffish behavior. Beka was far from a morning person, but she was at least always polite.

“I’m making eggs,” she said cheerfully, hoping for a reaction, “and bacon. Want some?”

Beka looked back over her shoulder and shook her head. “No, thanks.”

Y/N gave up with a sigh and returned to the stove, poking at the pale yellow mountains of scrambled eggs with her spatula.

“Hey, Y/N/N?” Beka called from the stairs. “You mind if I borrow your car? I’m like fifty-k overdue for an oil change.”

“That’s not good,” Y/N laughed.

Beka did not. “Yeah, well, the mechanic’s been out of town.”

Y/N’s laugh fell away. “He’ll be back soon,” she said, ever hopeful.

She turned to see Beka look away; something in her eyes that Y/N did not recognise. She was distant, lost to her thoughts, not caring if Y/N were around or not.

Beka licked her bottom lip and took a breath, pulling herself back into the moment. “So can I take your car or not?”

“I guess,” Y/N shrugged and turned off the stove. “Where are you going? Want company?”

“No.”

She was gone before her voice faded.

There was something poetic about driving as the sun rose.

The sky to her left was dark, still littered with pinprick stars, but on her right, the sky was aglow with morning. Thin strips of dark gray clouds hung against a backdrop of pinks and yellows as the sun poked its head out from beyond the horizon. The line above her showed the break between light and dark.

Beka drove that line.

Her phone buzzed but she ignored it. The only people who would be calling her now would only be doing so to yell, and listening to them was pointless.

She could almost picture Sam pacing around the Bunker halls, a tired hand scraping down over his bearded cheeks, eyes red from worry and exhaustion. Would he leave a message or grit his teeth and hold in a scream, trying to contain the urge to toss his phone into the tiles?

Beka knew she was no expert at espionage, but years in the library and watching the guys work had taught her a few tricks. She wouldn’t be able to hide from him forever, but her tracks were covered, for now.

Sam would be pissed, sure. Cas would probably clench his fists and scream at her, Jack would look to her with hopeless puppy eyes. Y/N…Y/N wouldn’t get it. No one would understand what she was doing, but it didn’t matter anymore. There were only two things that mattered, two people that mattered, and Beka was going to do what she could to help them. Even if it cost her everything.

Texas was looming in the distance; just a few more hours to go.

She was terrified but resolved, and the steering wheel bore her excess adrenaline; crescent moons decorating the leather where her nails dug deep.

“Company…” Kelly whispered to herself. She felt cold all over, like ice when it’s just started to freeze.

Beka. What has he done to Beka?

The ice flowing through Kelly’s veins quickly melted as seething anger began to take over.

“You monster!” she hissed through tightly clamped teeth.

Michael’s eyes darkened at her outburst, but Kelly wasn’t finished. “Let her go, you son of a bitch. Do what you want to me, but leave my friends alone!”

The Archangel’s lips twitched in amusement. “Let her go?” Michael echoed. “I’m not holding her. I’m not forcing her to do anything.” He crouched down to her level, the black metal bars splitting his face. “She came to me.”

Kelly’s slender fingers tightened their grip on the locked door of her prison. “Fuck. You.”

Michael’s head cocked, and Kelly didn’t miss the tic of his jaw - but her rage was building.

It didn’t feel like she had control of her own body when she threw herself back, mustering all of her strength to kick at the metal door.

The lock was released with dizzying speed, and before Kelly even had the chance to draw her leg back, Michael was wrenching the door open. She let out a piercing shriek as the Archangel grasped a fistful of her brown locks and jerked forward with a powerful strength, dragging her from her confinement.

Michael effortlessly pulled Kelly to her feet, fingers painfully tight in her hair as she struggled against him. His eyes burned a blinding blue, a testament to his anger, and she found herself frozen in true terror. The crack of his big palm against her cheek bounced off the walls, and prickling heat bloomed across her skin as his hand left her.

The powerful force of the slap made Kelly’s knees buckle and Michael released her as she crumpled at his feet.

She pressed her hand to her burning cheek as she slowly tilted her head up to his, and she could feel a warm trickle of blood roll over the plump curve of her lip. She whimpered at the icy glow of his gaze, and let her frightened tears slip down her heated face.

“Good,” Michael bit; the blue beginning to wane. “This is just where you belong; broken and obedient at my feet.”

Kelly sucked in a shaky breath that pushed back out in a pathetic whisper. “Please.”

The Angel towered over her. “Please?” His stolen lips curled into a faint sneer. “What more could you beg me for? I have given you... everything.” Michael spread his hands and lifted his palms to Heaven. “I have come to save you, delivered you from your pathetic life, offered you a chance to serve at my side, and yet… you beg. For what? My mercy?”

“For my freedom...for Beka’s freedom...for humanity. Please.”

Michael’s laugh was deep, piercing. His teeth gnashed as rage bubbled up inside of him, breaking through his normally controlled facade. “Freedom? And what have you or any of your...pathetic species ever done with freedom? Humanity is broken, flawed...hopeless. You talk of wanting freedom as if you know what to do with it. You don’t deserve to be freed.”

A new strength swelled in Kelly’s chest. Pride for her kind maybe. “We are your Father’s creations. We were made in His likeness. There’s good in us. In all of us.” Her crimson-tinted lips curled in a defiant sneer. “We’re better than you.”

Kelly stood her ground even as his Grace swelled once more, pushing away every speck of green and burning bright.

“Better than me,” he growled, lips shaking as he struggled to contain his fury.

A new fear froze Kelly’s blood at the sensation of an invisible heat closing around her throat. She gasped against it, feeling his Grace wrap around her like thick fingers. She tried to claw at the phantom palm crushing her windpipe, but there was nothing there to fight. Her eyes bludged as Michael lifted her onto her knees; his display of power striking awe as much as fear inside of her.

“You are nothing,” he seethed, dipping his chin to watch her struggle. “You are a parasite on this world.”

Tighter and tighter the power squeezed until she was sure it was the end. As bright white painted the edges of her vision, Kelly gave in, relaxing into the inevitable, ready to accept her end. She looked up at Michael, her eyes bloodshot and empty. If this was how she was going out, she wanted one last look at biggest mistake of her life.

Michael saw the defeat sparkle in her eyes, watched her break before him. As her pretty blue eyes began to roll back, he stopped himself, pulling his Grace back in and releasing her.

Kelly crumbled to the floor as her lungs screamed, sucking in as much air as they could. Her arms could not hold her and she fell down, bruising her face against the hard, cold floor.  

Michael closed his eyes and dropped his shoulders, taking a moment to regain his composure. He didn’t want her dead, not just yet.

“You foolish child.”

His voice pulled Kelly’s eyes open and her lashes fluttered against the dirty wood beneath her. She tried to sit, but her strength was gone, sapped dry by the fight and his attack. She whimpered as Michael bent to lift her, his big hands sneaking beneath her tiny body, arms hooking under her knees and around her shoulders. She fell against him, her forehead finding a resting place in the crook of his neck.

“So much potential wasted on anger.”

Kelly cried out as Michael shifted her in his arms, carrying her gently to the bathroom. She lifted a hand to steady herself, but she could not get it around his neck and it fell back down, limp against her own chest.

“You will learn to obey me.”

She closed her eyes against the harsh light of the bathroom, cringing as he set her down slowly onto the edge of the tub.

“You will learn to like it.”

She looked up, shielding her eyes against the light to look into his face.

“Or you will die.”

Beka cut the engine, the headlights briefly illuminating the large painted letters the small bakery’s sign before dying completely.

She released a heavy sigh before disengaging the seatbelt, alarms blaring in the back of her mind. This was beyond dangerous, meeting the Archangel alone like this, but Beka had a plan in motion, and she had to see it through.

The bell above the door jingled as she entered, and she let her eyes sweep over the quaint room. A crowd of people hovered around the counter, waiting in line for their takeaway treats, and a young girl with bushy pigtails pressed her nose to the glass display case trying to smell the cupcakes inside.

With a Hunter’s Gaze, she counted the civilians, something Dean had once taught her to do. She noted two exits and eight windows, three small cafe tables with moveable chairs, and a booth in the back corner with a view of the entire place.

“Always have an exit strategy,” Dean had often told her. “If you’re going in, no matter where you’re going in, make sure you can get out. Fast.”

Beka had not been the Hunter that Dean had hoped she’d be, but she never forgot things like that. Her natural paranoia lead her to cling to his words, and a thousand spy novels under her belt had helped her carry them out.

Once her preparatory sweep was complete and Beka had caught the eye of the perky blonde shop owner behind the counter, she stepped away from the door and made her way towards the booth in the back.

Michael was already waiting for her.

He watched with half a smirk as Beka had taken her survey, never letting her eyes meet his or show any signs that she was as nervous as he knew she was. But he could see it. He could hear her heart race as she walked slowly to his table. See the veins pulse quickly at her throat, the slight tremble of her right hand, the sweat begin to shine on her forehead. She was petrified and yet somehow utterly fearless as she came towards him, her gait steady, her eyes clear. She was just as intriguing to him as she’d been on every late night call, every online chat. Witty and sharp, funny yet deeply serious, nervous and easily flustered. She was every emotion at the same time some nights, and Michael could not fully wrap his mind around her.

That would soon change.

She had come to him, finally, and his plan was, for once, ahead of schedule.

Beka stopped by the head of his table and finally set her eyes upon him. She swallowed hard as a wave of panic flipped her stomach. Seeing his face after so long nearly knocked the breath from her lungs, but his eyes were wrong, the soul she knew and loved was not looking back at her when he tipped his chin in greeting.

“This seat taken?” she asked, throwing a thumb to the empty bench.

Michael smiled gently and nodded. “Please.”     

How strange, his voice. It hit her ears like a shockwave, deep and familiar yet laced with something she couldn’t describe. They had talked on the phone a few times, but seeing Dean’s lips move, watching the lines on his face crease, the muscles in his throat move, hearing that voice issue forth- it was altogether unsettling.

Beka swiftly slid into the bench, brown eyes steadily trained on his stolen greens. Michael blinked at her, smirk unfaltering as he watched her shift herself into a comfortable position.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” Michael smiled. “I hope the drive wasn’t too tiring.”

“It was fine,” Beka answered with a clipped tone.

Michael opened his mouth to speak again, but his lips froze as a red-headed waitress stopped at the edge of the table, slipping the order pad and pen from her black apron.

“What can I get for ya? We got cream and lemon meringue on special.” Her voice was a high chirp, and it grated against Beka’s ears.

Human and Angel both decided on apple pie and coffee, and it stung watching the entity wearing Dean Winchester devour the dessert. Beka felt a pang in her chest when Michael closed full lips around his fork, suddenly hit with déjà vu.

How many diners had she frequented with the hunter, Sam too, discussing cases or reminiscing about hunts gone hilariously wrong? This was some kind of twisted parody of that.

“You seem...anxious,” Michael said, easing back into the stiff cushion of the bench. The Archangel had dulled Dean’s vibrant emerald eyes into a lifeless moss, but they still burned like coals as he bored them into her.

“No, I’m not anxious, I’m just…” Beka drew in a heavy breath. “It was a long drive. I’m sorry. I’m really happy to see you.” The Archangel gave her a plastic smile and she returned it, making sure it reached her soft eyes.

Michael leaned forward, pushed his crumb-scattered plate out of the way before setting his forearms on the table.

“Rebekah…” The name sounded so wrong rolling off his tongue, sounded so wrong uttered in the low rumble of Dean’s voice. She couldn’t remember the hunter ever using her full name.

Beka’s eyes were locked on the Angel’s and she didn’t notice as he reached across the smooth surface of the table to brush warm fingertips over her knuckles. She sucked in a sharp breath, flinching at the touch, instinct jerking her hand away. She looked down to find Michael’s borrowed fingers still curled toward her; lax and searching. She let her eyes slip back to his, surprised to find a spark of hurt flash across them.  

Icy dread was swirling in her gut, but Beka had to regain her composure, had to play this right.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, licking her dry lips. “I just...this is all so new.” A closed-lipped smile blossomed across her face as she reached for him, her hand curving over the top of his.

A low smirk stretched Michael’s plush lips as he dipped his chin, looking at her from underneath his eyebrows. His thumb stroked across hers in tingling little trails as he held her gaze.

“Trust me, Rebekah. All you have to do... is trust me.”

Y/N checked her phone again, just to make sure she hadn't missed its buzzing. Though, with it always tucked in her back pocket, there was almost no way to miss it.

She tapped the screen, swiped away a spam email notification, and sighed as she sent the cell back to its bed.

Nothing from Beka.

She sent about her day, helping where she could, but mostly staying out of the way. The Bunker was too crowded and she couldn't get a word in anywhere anyway. Besides, there were things to be done, little boring everyday tasks that others overlooked that somehow fell to her.

She cleared beer bottles from ledges and swept the dried mud from the entryway. She stacked coffee mugs in the sink and set the dishes to soak. Cleared abandoned books from library tables and helped misaimed paper balls find the waste baskets.

In between each task she checked her phone, shaking her head at Beka's silence before hammering out another, “where are you??” text. It wasn't like her to be gone all day without a peep, very odd that she'd left so abruptly that morning, even stranger that she seemed to have her phone off.

The running gag was that Beka's phone was glued to her left hand, you never saw her without it; it wouldn't have seemed right.

So for her not to answer…

Something was up.

All around her there were faces, but none familiar. She hadn’t seen Sam all day, and Cas was a blur, swiftly coming and going with a flap of his trenchcoat. Y/N was worried but she had nowhere to turn, no one around to listen to her rambling, probably uncalled for concern.

As she shuffled off to the kitchen to start a pot of soup, she tried one last time, this time dialing in lieu of a thousandth ignored text.

It only rang twice.

“Bek, hey. So…” Her voice echoed in the hall as she slowed to a mosey, kicking her sneakers nervously against the polished floor, making them squeak with each step. “Look, I know you’re avoiding me, but whatever you’re doing...I could help. I’m not an idiot. Something is up. Please, just…” Just what? “Let me know where you are. Or… at least, just let me know you’re OK. Please?”

She hung up without a goodbye and shook her head. Maybe it was time to say something.

Y/N swiped her thumb again and opened a text message, about to shoot one off to Sam, when the phone vibrated twice against her palm.

A notification from Beka lit the top of her screen but did not make Y/N feel any better.

“Stop.”

Beka hit send and then turned off her phone completely, watching as the screen faded to black. With an angry hand, she shoved the cell back into her pocket and sighed.

“Is everything… alright?” Michael asked, tilting his head in question. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked across the table and Beka shrugged it off.

“It’s fine.” Hoping to end his inquiry, she looked out the window as she lifted the tall porcelain mug before her and downed the sugary dregs of her coffee.

Michael pressed on, leaning forward to catch her eye. “Your friends are worried for you,” he said simply.

Beka smiled and looked up at him. He was right, they were. Sam was probably running around in circles while Y/N begged him not to pull his hair out. She cleared her throat and shook her head gently.

“They needn’t be,” she told him, “I’m right where I’m meant to be.”

Beka looked back at her hand covering his and gingerly pulled it away. “Hey,” she started, her voice unsure. “Can I...can I see Kelly?”

Michael leaned back in his seat and smiled. “Of course.”

They slid out of the booth together, and Beka paused, waiting as the Angel dropped a folded twenty on the table. An electric shiver slithered down her spine when Michael pressed a palm to the small of her back. She grit her teeth against it, determined not to let him get to her, but her knees jellied at his melting touch, and she suddenly found herself leaning into him as they strolled toward the exit.

Beka had to fight the urge to wrap an arm around his waist, to breathe him in as they walked the short distance to the car. She had to remind herself that this wasn’t Dean, that the thing dwelling inside the hunter could turn her to dust with a simple snap of his fingers. She had to be cautious, had to be sharp.

If Beka wasn’t careful, Dean and Kelly could very well be lost to her forever.

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head quickly to clear his mind. There was too much going on, too many people needed his attention, too many fires were burning. He cringed as a bolt of pain struck between his eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling another migraine coming on.

“Wait, where is she?”

Y/N hesitated, seeing the pain on his face. Last thing she wanted to do was give him something else to worry about, but Beka was in trouble, of that she had little doubt.

“I don’t know,” she said mekely, “she asked to borrow my car this morning, and she’s been MIA all day and then…” Y/N pulled her phone out and opened her messages, scrolling as she held it out to Sam’s gaze. “Nothing all day. Then that.”

Sam looked down at the single word reply and his shoulders fell. Beka was wordy. She used emojis when she wanted to be left alone, but ‘Stop’ and nothing else wasn’t exactly true to character. Something was awry. He cleared his throat and looked away. “She didn’t say where she was going? Nothing?”

“No.”

“How could you just let her leave!”

His voice boomed through the hallway and Y/N flinched. Her throat was tight when she replied, clenching her teeth to try and keep calm.

“I’m not her babysitter, Sam. Beka’s a grown ass woman and sometimes she goes out by herself. What do you want me to do, put a tracker on her ankle?”

“She never just goes out by herself.” Sam dropped his chin. “Fuck.” His whisper was deep enough to get lost, but Y/N heard it just fine.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t-”

Sam cut her off as he spun on his heel and took three steps away. He dialed Beka’s number quickly and held his breath as it went right to voicemail. “Shit. Find Cas,” he yelled over his shoulder, doubling back to add a meek, “please.”

They all met in the War Room, worried faces illuminated from beneath by the ever-glowing table. Castiel and Y/N hovered over Sam’s shoulder as he typed away at his laptop, every so often making a noise of aggravation.

“Nothing?” Y/N asked, chewing on her thumbnail and peeking over Sam’s head at the screen.

“No. The GPS is on her phone is off.”

“She never keeps it on,” Y/N said knowingly.

Sam huffed and looked passed her to the pacing angel on his right. “Cas? Anything?”

Castiel shook his head, still looking off to the left, listening. “She’s warded herself,” he said grimly.

Y/N let her thumb go with a wet pop. “She knows how to do that?”

Cas narrowed his eyes at her. “Apparently so.”

“Damn it.” Sam called them both back with his mumbled curse. “Traffic cams from Woodward, Oklahoma caught your license plate running a red light at 2:42, Y/N.”

She perked up and leaned over him, hand next to the laptop as she squinted at the screen. “Well that’s good! Why the ‘damn it’?”  

Sam sighed heavily and sat back, waving a hand at the computer. “Because CCTV from around the same time shows the car left abandoned at a Gas ‘n Sip a few blocks away.”

Y/N stood back up. “So she ran the light and then switched cars?”

Sam nodded. “She ran the light on purpose.”

“Why would she do that?”

“To let us know she’s OK,” Sam said simply. “And to tell us to back off.”

A silence fell, each tongue growing still as their minds reeled.

Sam broke the nothingness, turning to Y/N. “She didn’t say… anything? No clues as to where she was going?”

Y/N shook her head.

“What about yesterday? The day before? Has she been acting weird?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N shrugged.

Sam threw his hands up in agonized frustration and stood from his chair, almost knocking it backwards as he went. “How can you not know!”

“I don’t know!”

“She’s your best friend! How did you not know if she’s been acting strangely?”

Y/N’s annoyance level had reached its peak and she snapped. “She’s your friend too, Sam! Not that anyone would know it lately!”

Hazel eyes fluttered in shocked offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t exactly been around for anyone these last few weeks, Sam.” She didn’t mean to, but Y/N wagged a finger at him scoldingly. “You’re a fucking mess. Look at you! You don’t sleep, you don’t eat, you haven’t shaved in God knows how long. You’re gonna fall apart and you don’t even care.”

“I care!”

“No, you don’t.” She crossed her arms with an air of finality and Sam scoffed. “Maybe if you were a little less… I don’t know, exhausted, you would know what’s going on around here.”

Sam stammered, his brow creasing as he sneered down at Y/N. “So this is my fault?”

Castiel stepped in, throwing his hands up between the tense friends. “This is no one’s fault. We will find Beka and bring her home.” He smiled kindly at Y/N and then looked to Sam, his gaze firming up. “You should go rest.”

Sam rolled his eyes “Cas-”

A firm hand pushed against Sam’s chest. “Go.”

Sam made his way down the curved halls, his mind in a fog, not paying attention to his route. He turned left instead of right and ended up at Beka’s door, not bothering to knock before stepping inside.

The room was an organized mess, just like Beka. Everything had a place, but nothing was put away. Clean laundry was folded and neat but sat in piles on top of the dresser instead of within; her desk held a mountain of papers and scattered notepads, pens tucked everywhere but inside the pen caddy.

The trashcan beneath the desk was amazingly empty, as none of the waste seemed to be able to make the trip down off the desk into it. A ball of wadded up notebook paper lay on the floor beside it, and Sam bent to scoop it up, finding the mess somewhat unacceptable.

As he went to toss it into the can, Beka’s writing caught his eye, more specifically, the way her bubbled cursive spelled out his name.

Sam - I know you’re gonna try and stop me which is why I didn't tell you. I think I can bring him home. I found something

There was no more to the note and half of the words were crossed out as if she’d changed her mind midway.

“No… Bek.”

Sam bit down hard on his bottom lip, his eyes closing as well, done. He fell down onto her empty bed, sitting on the edge, not caring about the messy nest of blankets. The pain in his head was getting worse, the constant pounding picking up speed and intensity. He let out a full breath and hunched over, shoving his hands into the mattress to hold himself steady.

“Goddamnit!”

As he moved his hand, wanting to bring it up to shield his aching eyes from the light for a brief moment of piece, his fingers against the hard edge of a book tucked underneath Beka’s pillow. His eyes shot open and he pulled the text from its cave, quickly scanning the title.

“No...no.”

There was a tiny triangle of paper peeking out from the middle of the book and Sam ran his finger along the edges, carefully opening to the page she had left marked.

“Fuck.” He stood up quickly, making sure to keep his finger in the book as it fell closed in his big hand. He hit the hallway at a run, boots keeping him from skidding into the turn as he raced back to the War Room.

Michael held the screen door open as Beka stepped inside, eyes dancing about as she took note of the layout of the house. The living room was a bit dusty, and the carpeted stairs directly ahead could use a good vacuuming, but the place was otherwise tidy. Beka sighed as Michael stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“Nice place ya got here,” Beka teased, unable to stop herself. She ended with an awkward smile and swallowed hard, waiting for his reaction. Nerves were creeping up on her again, the scene she'd played on a loop in her head so close to coming true. Just a little longer…

The Archangel dropped his eyes to hers, a half smirk twisting his mouth. “This way,” he directed, flicking a finger toward the stairs. Beka stepped back, letting him take the lead. She counted each step as they ascended - it was a habit, something she always did out of some strange compulsion. Sometimes, back at the bunker, she’d count them out loud, more often than not prompting some teasing jab from Dean. The thought of him sent a twinge of pain through her chest, and looking up to see his body so casually infected by the evil angel pushed that pain towards anger.

All the way up, Beka braced herself. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d find, but she knew it was going to be bad. She had been preparing herself for this, she knew the risks - but actually being there was like stepping into a oil painting of her worst nightmare. Every step was slow; she could feel every muscle in her legs as she walked, every fiber of her lungs as she pulled in each breath. Her entire body was pulsing with the moment, with nervous energy that crackled through her.

Just a little further, she thought, following a few steps behind. Just take me to Kelly and we can end this…

The staircase seemed to go on forever, like it was reaching up into Heaven, but Beka knew better. She knew it was leading to Hell.

Go faster you son of a bitch. I want this over with.

Michael’s polished shoe hit the landing and Beka pulled in a tight breath, anxiety and fury twisting inside her gut. Michael lingered, not moving forward, causing Beka to slow her steps lest she run into his back.

Go! What are you waiting for you motherfucking…

She took another step.

Goddamned evil…

Michael moved aside finally, turning slightly to allow her to slip passed him, but she was so wrapt in her thoughts she let out a deep growl as she stepped up beside him.

“Piece of shit!”

Michael tipped his head, narrowing his eyes as they landed on her face. Beka froze instantly, realizing that her thoughts had trespassed out of her mouth and into the real world. She held her breath, afraid of what he might do, but Michael did nothing. He simply frowned.

“What...did you say?”

The annoyance in his voice was clear; the crisp consonants lingered in the air like a poisonous gas and Beka pushed forward through it, mustering up all of her strength. So, she hadn’t meant to say it outloud, she had, and now was a good a time as any to bring this all to a head.

“I said… you’re a… piece… of shh…”

The words faltered on her tongue as Michael touched her hand. A gentle sweep of his fingers across the top of her knuckles broke her concentration. She looked down at their hands, slowly inhaling as a dizziness overtook her. She wobbled a bit on her feet and blinked, trying to clear her mind.

“What…” Her voice was shaky, diluted by the fog.

“Rebekah.” Michael called her name softly, letting it ring out and through her mind, pulling her eyes upwards to meet his.

Something in the green caught her, some power she could not define cleared her thoughts, pushing away every drop of rage and replacing it with a calmness that she’d only ever found in her dreams. He held her there forever, just staring, pulling her closer like a magnet.

“Breathe.”

Her lips parted as he commanded her to take a breath, her body screaming as she obeyed.

Michael smiled and released her, taking a step back and watching as her glassy eyes refocused.

“You forget to breathe too often, my love. It’s not good for you.”

“I… um…”

Michael licked his lips and nodded towards the hallway. “Shall we?”

Despite their many late night conversations, Beka had not been able to get Michael to tell her anything about Kelly’s wellbeing other than that she was alive, and being cared for. Kelly had mentioned a cage, but Beka had assumed it was metaphorical.

It was not.

The cage was real and Kelly was curled up inside it, tucked into a corner diagonally across from the door. Her knees were pulled up to her chin, her hands beneath her cheek. Beka couldn’t see much, but she appeared to be clean, fully dressed and breathing. But her face was purple and black, a deep line of red cut into her bottom lip, and another, smaller gash above her eye.

Beka grit her teeth and felt whatever spell Michael had woven around her fade. Her anger returned, her purpose for being there reset itself firmly in her mind. She was there to save Kelly, to break her out of this Hell and get her to safety.

And, if her plan worked, she could get Dean back too.

She felt Michael move beside her and Beka swallowed down her fear. She had to play this right, wait for the perfect moment.

“You see?” he said, stepping around Beka to wave a hand over the cage. “She’s alive. She’s fine.”

Trying to keep her gaze relaxed, Beka forced a smile. “Thank you for letting me see her.”

Michael nodded in acknowledgement. “Of course.”

The curl of his plump lips was desperately distracting and Beka struggled to look away. She had to get herself together, had to press on.

She cleared her throat. “I...I’m sorry, could I have something to drink? I’m…” She coughed and rubbed at her throat. “A little dry.”

Michael smiled more fully and nodded, accepting her request. He turned quickly and Beka listened to his footfalls disappear down the hall and fade as the staircase took him down.

She rushed to the cage, dropping to her knees by Kelly’s side.

“Kelly!” Her whisper was forceful, but Kelly did not stir. “Hey! Wake up damnit!”

Beka stuck a finger through the cage and poked at Kelly’s arm until she woke.

“Michael?” Kelly was groggy, blue eyes aflutter as she looked around for her Master.

“No,” Beka hissed, shaking the cage a bit. “It’s me! Hey! Focus!”

Kelly sat up and turned to face her friend. “Beka?”

“Yes, damnit!”

The poor girl smiled, lost in a haze. “You came.”

“Of course I came,” Beka said, softening her voice. “I’m gonna get you out of here, OK? Are you alright? Can you walk? We’re gonna have to take it at a run. You with me?”

“No.” Kelly stretched her arms out in front of her and shifted on the cold floor, getting comfortable.

Beka sat back on her heels, shocked. “What? What do you mean no? You can’t walk?”

“No,” Kelly said again, this time in clarification. “I can walk. I just don’t want to.” Her voice was so chipper, so blindly happy that an icy chill made its way down Beka’s spine.

“What are you talking about?” Confusion tightened Beka’s throat, frustration pushed tears into her eyes.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Kelly told her honestly, her smile cemented and terrifying against the bruises that painted her face.

Beka took a breath, closing her eyes against Kelly’s obvious insanity. “OK,” she whispered. “It’s OK. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

Kelly’s eyes were huge when Beka looked back. “No,” she told her cheerfully. “You won’t.”

“Whiskey?”

Michael’s deep voice broke through all else and Beka jumped to her feet as he entered the room, holding out a cloudy glass of amber liquid for her.

She stepped forward and breathed away her tears, smiling at the Archangel. “Thank you. My favorite.”

“It’s not the...honey kind that you seem to prefer, but…” Michael shrugged slowly as Beka took the glass.

“It’s fine,” she replied quickly, “thank you.” The whiskey burned and she took the pain gladly, hoping it would steel her nerves.

“I’m pleased you’re finally here,” Michael said honestly, his eyes trailing her face, watching for her reaction. He was calm, too calm, and his gaze lifted the hairs on Beka’s neck.

“Me too,” she whispered and knocked back the rest of the whiskey, holding it in her mouth for a long second before letting it go. She exhaled as she swallowed and met his eye, keeping her expression as soft as she could. “So,” she teased with a smile and held out the glass for him to take.

“So.” Michael returned her smile and reached for the glass, his thumb brushing over hers purposely.

She ignored the electric shockwave.

She held her breath.

He turned to set the glass down on the desk.

She attacked.

Beka withdrew a shining crystal from her pocket and held it aloft in both hands as the spellbook had instructed her to do. She turned the point to aim at Michael as she summoned up every ounce of will hiding inside of her, every drop of faith, every molecule of power she possessed. As the empty glass hit the wooden desk, Beka recited the spell she had painstakingly carved into her mind.    

“Murifri nibm od!”

Nothing happened, but she pressed on.

“Oadriax chiso berita!”

The Enochian felt wrong on her tongue, but she kept going, knowing that all her years in the Library and a lifetime of research had led up to this one moment and would not let her down.  

“Geh! Ip! Cures lap zir vohim!”

Beka gasped as a blinding white light erupted from the crystal and slammed into Michael, knocking him forward.

Sam was bouncing back and forth on each foot, shifting his weight as he watched Castiel read. His arms were crossed and he chewed on the nail of his right middle finger, wincing when he gnawed too far and hit the tender skin underneath. “Ow.”

Castiel sighed dramatically and set the book down on the table, his hands on either side. He hunched over the tome and shook his head at the faded black ink. “This is not good, Sam.” His deep voice was raw, harder than usual, as if the last few weeks were wearing on him as well.

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, Cas, I know. What is it?”

“A very powerful spell.” Blue eyes were dark with worry, his face creased and cracked.  “Beka cannot work this kind of magic.”

From across the table, Y/N piped up. “She’s really good at magic.” It wasn’t helpful, but she felt she needed to add something. She was coming up empty handed at everything else she tried.

“No, Y/N,” Cas said gently, falling down into the chair to his right. “This is… advanced spellwork. Far more complicated than anything she’s attempted before and…” He stopped, hanging his head, unable to deliver the worst of the news.

Sam stopped bouncing and stepped forward. “And what, Cas?”

A quick exhale dropped Castiel's chest and he looked up at Sam. “And...the translation from Enochian was incorrect.”

An invisible anvil settled on Sam chest and he sucked in a tiny breath to combat it. “OK. Maybe she realized it and...fixed it.” Frightened tears stung his eyes and he sniffed them back and away. “Beka is…” He cleared his throat to rid the last of the tears. “...Really good with words- languages. Maybe she caught the mistakes.”

Castiel nodded solemnly. “Even if she did, Sam… this spell was not meant for an archangel.”

Michael’s shoulders shook as he braced himself against the oak desk. Beka matched his tremble, almost vibrating with a mixture of hope and fear as she watched the Archangel succumb to the effects of the spell. She held her breath when he finally stilled, brown eyes wide as she watched him slowly turn to face her.

“Bek...” Dean was back, Beka could see it in his soft expression. He was panting, no doubt exhausted from the fight. She felt her chest tighten at the thought of just how long he’d fought and clawed inside his own head.

“Dean,” Beka breathed, a relieved whoosh of air pushing from her lungs. She ran to him, boots loudly rasping against the floor until she crashed against him. Her fingers scrunched into the fabric of his black sweater, and hot tears pooled in her eyes as she gazed up at the familiar face she missed so much.

“Dean, you gotta cast Michael out-”

“It’s not that simple, Bek,” the hunter panted,“I can’t just-”

“Yes! Yes, it is that simple!” Beka was frantic, voice a high screech, veins buzzing with adrenaline. “You can do it, Dean. This spell won’t hold him for long. Please!”

Dean nodded, mouth twitching with uncertainty, and Beka’s lungs expanded with a paused breath as she waited for the expulsion.

She watched as he doubled over, his face screwing in pained concentration. His lips parted to reveal gnashed teeth, and his eyes were welded shut. “It - it’s not working!” His words tore from his lips, and his voice was raw with the struggle. Beka’s heart hammered wildly as she took in the scene before her...and then stopped completely.

Dean’s face smoothed, his grimace morphing into a chilling grin as he straightened back to his true height. Beka swallowed as his shoulders squared, and her blood iced when green eyes ignited to a burning blue. She cried out when he suddenly fisted her hair, pain blooming over her scalp as he sharply tugged back, tilting her face up to his.

“In fact,” Michael said, voice even. “It won’t work at all.”

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[huntertales]

Part Four: A Taste Of The Good Life. (Southern Comfort S08E06)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader team up with Garth, who has taken over Bobby’s job, but the reader isn’t happy to hear this. The four of them work together to hunt down an avenging spirit that’s possessing people who have a grudge against someone and murders them. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,198.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

At this moment, seeing Dean with all logic thrown out of his brain and pointing a gun at his little brother, you were regretting not going to the hospital with him Because if you did, maybe there was a small chance none of this would be happening. You had a feeling Dean had fallen victim to the spectre, he was the perfect one he was looking for. Holding a grudge against his brother, secretly itching for some payback after what he did to him. There was no chance in hell you were going to be able to talk some sense into him while he was holding the penny. But you’d be damned if you weren’t going to try.

“Come on, Dean.” Sam tried to be the voice of reason here before someone could get hurt. He knew his brother's anger was directed towards him alone. "I know it's not you in there pulling the strings."

"Shut up!" Dean hissed at his little brother, not in the mood to hear some piss poor excuse out of the man's mouth. You narrowed your eyes on him as you slowly reached for your own gun that was nestled in the waistband of your pants. You thought he was distracted by his own rage he wouldn't see you trying to make this an even fight, but you were quickly caught. "Don't!"

"What are you gonna do, Dean?" You couldn't help yourself but push his buttons. "Shoot me?"

"How about you do us all of a favor and mind your damn business? This ain’t about you, Y/N. It never was. It's about him." Dean pointed the loaded gun back at his brother. You swallowed slightly from the one outcome that was going to happen if you let this continue on. "You never even wanted this life. Always blamed me for pulling you back into it.”

“That’s not true.” Sam defended himself against the older man’s judgement.

“Really?” Dean questioned him. You could hear the pure anger dripping off of his voice from the tone of his voice. Never in your life have you ever seen him act this way around Sam. “‘Cause everything you’ve ever done since you climbed into my ride has been to deceive me.”

“What do you want me to say?” Sam asked. He thought all of this was lead on from the things he did in his life. Moments in his life that he weren’t proud of. But he was a human being. All of you made mistakes. Even Dean himself. “That I’ve made mistakes? I’ve made mistakes, Dean.”

“That’s not Dean, Sam.” Garth warned the younger Winchester in a hushed voice.

“Shut up!” Dean roared the command at the other hunter. You had to admit you were a bit taken back at how loud and aggressive he was turning into. He was blinded by his own rage, and he found it a bit comical at how Sam thought all of his decisions that he made over the years were merely choices in his life that he regretted. “Mistakes? Well, let’s go through some of Sammy’s greatest hits. Drinking demon blood, check. Being in cahoots with Ruby. Not telling me that you lost your soul. How about running around with Samuel for a whole year, letting me think that you were dead while you’re doing all kinds of crazy. Like sleeping with Y/N behind my back. And lying to my face when I asked you if you were.”

“Yeah. Don’t ask. It’s a long story.” You whispered to Garth when you saw his face scrunch up slightly at what he heard. You and the boys shared a very strange and close family bond, you’d admit that in a heartbeat. But there was a point when you got out of hell with a messed up mind-frame that you blamed yourself for. But it seemed that Dean thought what his brother participated in while he was soulless was his fault alone. And all of you made bad decision, not just Sam. You tuned your gaze over to the older Winchester and gave him a dirty glare from how he was acting. "Are you still holding onto that? I told you, Dean. It was my fault. And as for the things Sam did...we all made mistakes. Don't act like you're perfect. None of us are."

“Those aren’t mistakes, Y/N. If you weren’t so blinded by Sam’s puppy dog look you would’ve realized by now that all he does is bring us down. But no. You always have to be the one to try and coddle him. After everything that he's done—wanting to quit hunting, starting the apocalypse. You always had to hold his hand and tell him that everything was gonna be okay." Dean said in almost a mocking tone. How he felt about your friendship with Sam was nothing new. But he was acting like you were part of the problem.. "Those are choices that you ignored!”

“All right. You said it. But don’t blame Y/N. She was just trying to help.” Sam defend you against his brother’s wrath. “This is just between you and me. We’ve both played a little fast and loose.”

“Yeah, I might have lied, but I never once betrayed you. I never once left you to die. And for what, a girl?” Dean said, getting to the point where he was holding the grudge against Sam. It was all about the decision that his brother made. And it hit something inside of Sam that made him want to kill his brother. It would have been like if Sam said something about you. You knew this woman was important to him, but you didn’t realize until now. “You left me to die for a girl?!”

Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He took his chance to get the coin out of his brother’s hand when he grabbed ahold of the gun to aim it at the floor as he swung his fist at Dean’s face, stunning him momentarily. You watched as Sam shoved his brother backwards into a wall where there happened to be a mirror. Dean broke the glass over the floor while Sam managed to squeeze in a few more punches as the both of them struggle to gain control of the gun. But Dean decided to play dirty against his little brother to win the fight.

You winced slightly as Dean swung up his fist at the younger Winchester, stunning him enough to let him free his grip around the gun. Dean then headbutted his brother to give him a bit of distance before kicking the man straight into the stomach with his leg, making Sam stumble backwards until he broke his fall on the coffee table that broke from his body weight. Sam rolled over on the floor as he tried to regain his composure from the blows. You knew it’d be a matter of seconds until Dean would pull the trigger, and before he could do so, you put yourself in the line of fire, giving it one last shot to stop all of this.

“Hey, hey, hey!” You shouted at the older Winchester to get his attention. “Snap out of it, Dean.”

“Y/N, don’t.” Sam warned you, not wanting to put yourself in danger like this.

"No, he won't kill me. Sure, we don't see eye to eye all the time, but he'd never do anything to hurt me." You said. You were confident that the man standing in front of you still had some common sense left in him to realize that he was about to make a terrible decision. And you were trying to help them. “You’re not gonna shoot me, are you, Dean? I’ve never done anything to betray you.”

Dean proved himself wrong when he pointed his gun at you, "Move."

"After everything you two have been through, this is what it comes down to? No. I won't let you. You've been protecting him your whole life.” You reminded him about the bond he had with his little brother. It wasn’t perfect, but he’d do anything for Sam. “Don't stop now."

“He left me to rot in purgatory!” Dean said, as if he hadn’t made that clear enough.

“Right. And you've never once let him down. You've never once thought about letting him die. What about the time he was detoxing from the demon blood for the first time? You were so ready to let him rot in there and die. Because you were scared of him being different." You said, pulling that memory from the depths of a time in your life where it was complicated and painful. Maybe it wasn't exactly the same thing what Sam had done to his brother, but you weren't there.

"The three of us have done stupid things for love. And I'm sure Sam had his reasons."

“Just like you had your reasons for Benny.” Sam said, adding more fuel to the fire.

“Oh my god!” You grumbled underneath your breath, rolling your eyes from the argument they were about have right now. “Do we really have to do this again?”

“Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you’ve ever been!” Dean shouted. You had to admit that was a low blow for the man to make. You felt yourself being pushed to the breaking point about how he was talking about his brother. “That’s right. Cas let me down. You let me down. The only person that hasn’t let me down is Benny.”

"Really? Really?!" You found yourself suddenly pushed to the edge of what he was saying. You didn't care that Dean was holding a loaded gun, you didn't care that he was possessed by a ghost that wanted nothing but revenge. You walked a few steps until you were nearly inches from him. If he wanted to shoot you, he was going to have a hell of a hard time after you knocked him out. "Was Benny there for you when you didn't want to go to hell? Was Benny there for you when you were ready to lie down like a dog and say yes to Michael?! Has Benny there for you when you were lying in your own self pity? No, he wasn’t.”

"Since the three of us got back together the only thing the both of you have been doing is fighting. And I'm so sick and tired of it. It’s exhausting. And frankly, I don’t know how much more of it I can take. I can’t blame Sam for what he did. Because we’ve all done it at some point. You too, Dean. Do I have to remind you about Lisa?” You told him how you felt about this entire fight and how you were being pushed to your limits. The mention of a familiar name should have snapped Dean back into reality, but the mention of his old flame made his grip around the gun tighten. "I know you're angry. But, Dean, you've got to fight this. Do not do this! After everything we've been through, this is where it ends?”

You could try all you want to talk some sense into Dean, but it wouldn't listen to anything you said. Not with the coin in his hands controlling his thoughts. Dean was ready to shoot his brother. But not if you could help it. Without even thinking, you reached up and swung your fist directly at him, not realizing that you had accidentally aimed for his nose, and using all the force you had to make sure it hurt. You quickly yanked the gun out of his hands and unloaded the clip as the coin fell out of Dean's grip, falling to the floor as he came back into reality.

“Damn it! God,” You found yourself shouting out a profanity at the throbbing pain suddenly in your fingers. You hissed at the pain as shook your hand in hopes the pain would fade. “That was dumb. Really dumb.”

You should have thrown the punch with a better formed fist, because your hand was starting to hurt from what you had done in order to knock some sense back into Dean. What you had done worked at least, the man found himself back into reality with a throbbing nose from the punch. He wiped away some blood after what you had done, and some of the goo from his ear. Garth noticed the coin was on the floor and bent down to grab it before either one of you could do it and land yourself into another round of trouble.

Despite the warning you gave him to not do so, Garth seemed unfazed by the curse that was brought on by whoever touched it. He reassured all of you that it was all good. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing well enough the hunt was finally over. And you stopped Dean from killing his brother. You’d call that a successful hunt.

+ + +

Later into the evening all of you were packed up and ready to go, Garth had been the one who discard of the penny so no one would be affected by the spectre's curse again. You and Dean followed the man to his car to wish him a farewell and a safe trip out of here. Sam decided to stick back at the motel to do some more packing and take some personal time to himself. You couldn’t blame him. After all of those things his brother said, you knew it was going to be an awkward trip until the next town. You didn’t mention anything or asked how he was feeling. You let him have his space and figure out how he was going to handle it by himself.

“It took me forever to melt that penny, but it’s finally gone.” Garth said. He walked over to his beat up car and dropped his bag into the trunk. You had to wonder how he managed to keep going in that thing when it looked like it was about ready to die.

“How come that penny didn’t jack you like everyone else?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask. “I  mean, I can understand why it didn’t affect the kid who took it. He’s young and innocent. But everyone at some point in their life feel like they’ve been screwed.”

“Not me, man. I let all that stuff go with the help of my Yogi, my sega genesis. And you should, too. You can’t change the past, amigo. Now, there’s something I want to say to you. Stop being an idjit!” Garth told the man. You found yourself cracking a smile at the term he was using properly, but Dean was a bit taken back. "With Bobby Dead, the three of you are all each other has. And that's not so bad, man. Now, you know what’s coming next, right?”

Dean knew exactly what the hunter was going to do, and much as he wanted to try and back out, Garth wouldn’t take no for an answer. He unwillingly let the man give him a quick hug as he looked around the parking a lot to see if there was anyone around. But the only souls were the three of you. You rolled your eyes at Dean’s behavior. He pulled away after a moment and managed to skip out, mumbling an excuse of not wanting this chick flick moment to go on any longer. You told him you’d meet him back at the motel, wanting to say goodbye to Garth in privacy. When Dean was out of sight, you pulled something familiar out of your back pocket.

"Oh. Before I forget." You said. You took out Bobby's old hat and fixed it up so it was back to normal. You reached out and put it on Garth's head, reassuring him that once again you were okay with him being Bobby. He had the personality for it, and you couldn't picture anyone but him. "Keep on truckin', Garth."

You knew there was no way he was going to let you say goodbye without a hug, too. Garth was just the type of guy who loved to give hugs. You opened up your arms and embraced him into a tight hug, like how the one he gave you when the both of you first met. You pulled away from the man when you felt something start to vibrate underneath his jacket. The sound of a familiar tune you swore you’d beat the guy up if you heard it started to go off. But it made you smile at how much of a dork he was, and how much you were happy that your idea of him changed. He said a final goodbye to you as he headed to his car and got inside.

“Yo, Lamar. What do we got? Wendigo? You got a flare gun? No? What about a flame thrower? Then you'd better get some sneakers, buddy, 'cause you're gonna have to run. All right." Garth ended the call after giving some hunter advice on how to take care of a nasty monster that could only be taken down by fire. You never seen Garth without a smile. It was one of the few things you rarely seen Bobby do. However the man was starting to check on with the language the old man used. Garth’s engine wouldn’t start, the only noise that would come out was a sputtering noise. His smile faded as he suddenly grew aggravated. Garth hit the steering wheel in frustration and shouted, “Balls!”

You raised your brow slightly from his outburst, Garth inhaled a deep breath and decided to try one last time to start his car. And it seemed to work. You gave him a finger salute to wish him goodbye as he gave you a thumbs up. You couldn't help yourself but smile as Garth drove off to wherever the road lead him as he played Bobby. One problem was solved, but yet another one waited for you. You headed over to the Impala when you saw both of the boys standing there. You were hesitant to even ask if the both of them were okay. The look on Sam's face was enough to show you that he had told his brother about how he felt after Dean got the chance. You inhaled a deep breath, deciding to try and ease the tension by offering a chance for a quiet dinner before heading off.

“So...I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving.” You said as you approached the Impala and stopped near the trunk. “I spotted a Chinese place just a few miles up the road. And I've been having a serious crazy. Maybe all of us could grab a bite."

Dean would always jump on the opportunity for something to eat. But it seemed he decided to back out on this one. "Nah. I'm not hungry. I think I'll...stick around here for a little while. Clean up some of the mess and check to see if there’s any new leads on Kevin.”

"What about you, Sammy?" You asked the younger man with a hopeful expression. "We haven't had a chance for some quality time in a while. Treat your best friend to dinner."

Sam thought about it for a moment as he decided what he wanted to do. Normally he would have decided to just hit the road and grab something on the way out of town, but he sort of liked the idea of something that wasn't from a greasy fast food joint. And he couldn't remember the last time you and him were alone. Not to mention the best part of it all, his brother wouldn't be there. The younger man grabbed the keys to the Impala from his brother and headed out.

+ + +

It actually felt nice for the first time in forever to have a sit down dinner with Sam, no hunt or problem to bother you. No constant worry in the back of your mind about what was wrong with the man. Everything was normal, in a sense. You gave the man sitting across from the table a smile as you dug more into the food you ordered. You were already planning on cleaning your plate with the way your stomach was growling on the way here. Both of you made conversation on simple topics while you ate the meals you ordered. Neither one of you talked about what happened earlier today, not even about how he was feeling. You knew it was something you had said you were going to let them handle, but there was something you’d been eager to learn more about since you were reunited with Sam.

"Can I ask you something?" You spoke for the first time after a minute of silence fell between the both of you. Sam shrugged his shoulders as he continued chewing the piece of food in his mouth. You set down your chopsticks and thought for a moment about how you were going to approach this. "You know I'll always support you no matter what. Right?"

Sam raised his brow slightly, “That’s your question?”

“Shut up. No. I just wanted to make that clear.” You said, rolling your eyes as you started to pick up a piece of your food. However it lingered above your plate as you finally asked him what you had been bugging the back of your mind. “The girl that you met last year…You’ve never told me her name. Hell, anything about her. Besides the fact that you met her after hitting a dog. By the way, did the poor thing come out alive?"

"Yeah. His name was Riot. I accidentally fractured two of his legs and caused some internal bleeding, but he made a full recovery. I took care of him for that year." Sam reassured you, making a smile spread across his lips at the concern you showed for the dog. You were happy to hear that, but your curiosity lingered onto the woman who saved the day and captured Sam's heart. "Her name's Amelia. Amelia Richardson. She’s a veterinarian who helped nurse Riot back to health. She was going through a few things herself when the both of us met."

Sam told you about how she had moved to Texas out of the blue after her husband, Don, had died in the war overseas. She was tired of seeing all the sympathetic faces, she just wanted to run from it all. And Sam knew the feeling. You understood that what connected them was the grief they shared, but it wasn't just that. Amelia was smart, funny and everything that he needed during that time. "She seems like a nice girl, Sammy."

"She is. She and I had a place in Kermit, Texas. Everything was good for a while." Sam said. You wondered if what he meant by that was Dean coming back from purgatory, dragging him back into the hunting world again he wanted to leave. But it wasn't that. "Turned out her husband was alive. Kinda put me in a bit of an awkward spot."

“Oh.” You mumbled, not seeing that twist coming. “What happened?”

"Don seemed okay with me staying with her. Long as she was happy, that's all he cared about. But...I don't know. I'm still wondering about what I should do." Sam admitted to you. You nodded your head slowly at the struggle he was facing. It was still going to be a while until he could go back to that lifestyle he wanted his entire life with Kevin gone and the tablet missing. You were about to finally take that bite when Sam decided to ask you a question. “Do you remember the life you had before? Being Y/F/N and everything?"

You nodded your head as you chewed the bit of food in your mouth before swallowing it down. “Yeah. I do.”

"Do you miss it?" Sam couldn’t himself but ask.

You fell silent from his question that had to make you think about what your response was going to be. You inhaled a deep breath and gave him your honest answer. "Parts of it. I miss the job. It was actually kind of fun. And sure, I miss not know about the creepy and crawly. But you know what I missed the most about having a normal life? Having a bed of my own." You said. Sam agreed with you on that, but you weren’t done yet explaining yourself on why. “It’s not just a clean bed I miss. It's somewhere to call home. Knowing there's somewhere that's all my own. Where I can relax and feel safe...ish."

“Yeah. I miss that, too.” Sam admitted. "But too bad it's not exactly possible with this lifestyle."

"Who says it isn't? Bobby had his place, I was fine for all those years. I mean, it's possible for some people. Why not us?" You asked him, as if you were expecting him to answer. But he fell silent from your question as he turned his attention back to his food. You let out a quiet sigh and picked at your own with the chopsticks. "You know all I want is for you to be happy, Sammy.”

“I know, Y/N. And I appreciate that.” Sam said with sincerity. “I always have.”

"Good. Because I'm gonna sound like a bitch from what I'm about to say next." You said. Sam furrowed his brow in slight confusion. "Amelia better be worth it to throw all of this away. It’s a freaking huge risk. I just don’t want you or her to get heartbroken at the end of all of this.”

"No. I understand. I do." Sam said, agreeing with your caution. "I love her, Y/N. In a way that I haven’t loved any girl before. She understand what's it's like to lose someone."

“And have them come back to life.” You couldn’t help yourself but add that in. Sam found himself lettin gout a chuckle from your humor and had to agree with you on that point. You picked up another piece of food, but before you took a bite, you looked at him with a serious expression. "If I have to be honest, I hate the idea of you leaving, Sammy. I'll miss you. I know Dean will, too. We are the only family we have left. The selfish part of me wants you to keep hunting with us. But I also want you to have a home. One that you deserve, Dean, too. Both of you never had that. I...I just want you two to feel like a family again."

“And we will.” Sam reassured you. “It’s just gonna take some time, Y/N.”

You let out a quiet sigh and nodded your head, understanding there was still some bad blood between the both of them that wasn't going to go away quick as you hoped. You were about to take another bite of your food when the chopsticks suddenly fell out of your grip and hit the plate.  Both of your hands pressed themselves against your chest when you felt an aching pain come out of nowhere. Sam suddenly gave you a concerned look from what you were doing. He spoke your name to make sure you were all right.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. It's just..." You cupped one of your breasts as you felt a pain that you never had before. You've dealt with tenderness when you were PMSing, but you hadn't seen much symptoms over the past few weeks. While you were starting to grow a bit nervous from how late you were, you should've been reassured from the sudden pain. And not to mention the mood swings alone. But this was a pain you’ve never experienced before. You inhaled a deep breath and adjusted yourself in your seat. "My boobs hurt really badly all of a sudden."

"You gonna make it?" Sam asked you. "Or do I have to rush you to the ER?"

You narrowed your eyes on the man from his sarcasm and pretended to let out a chuckle. "No. But keep it up with the sass and you'll be the one being wheeled off, Sasquatch."

"I'm so scared." Sam mumbled. You rolled your eyes as you continued eating your meal with another few bites as Sam reached for the bowl of fortune cookies brought over in the beginning of the meal. He grabbed one for himself and offered you one. He ripped open the package and cracked the cookie to see what the small piece of paper said. His lips stretched into a smile as he read it out loud for you to hear. "'Stop searching forever. Happiness is just next to you.'"

"How fitting.” You said with a smile of your own. You finally cracked open your own cookie and unraveled the small piece of paper to see what it said. While Sam's was sweet, yours made little sense to you. "'A small package is on its way to you.' Huh. I wonder what that could mean.”

“Who knows.” Sam mumbled. “Maybe it means we’re one step closer to Kevin.”

You let out a chuckle from the terrible remark as you set the piece of paper down to the table and continued on eating your meal in peace. The both of you forgot about the incident with Dean and the nasty things you said to each other just a few days ago out of tension. You talked about how much you wanted to kill Garth, but changed your mind about him. Sam told you about the hunt where he and Dean met the other hunter for the first time.

The evening went on smoothly as the both of you shared a rare moment as best friends. It made Sam realize how much he missed you for those two years while you were gone. From your sense of humor to the nickname, to how you laughed and the stories you told in such a way they never felt old. And the support you gave him no matter what. He felt his heart sink at the idea of him not being around for you.

Sam wanted that normal life with Amelia, more than anything he wanted in his life. Because, sure, she knew what it was like to lose someone. But she was so many things that he grew to love about her over the year they shared together. And yet...he found himself wondering if he could do it. Could he really leave behind the family that he had? His brother was a pain in his ass, but they fought about the dumbest things from time to time. He knew that in a matter of time the both of them would overcome this. Yet...his brother wasn’t the only reason he’d miss this life. It was you. He just got you back into his life, and while things were going slow with the hunt for Kevin, he knew it was going to be a matter of time until he had to choose.

[Next Part]

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[seenashwrite]

14.01 Round-Up

“Solid” is how I’d describe it, so if you haven’t seen it, I’d advise you not go into it looking to have your hair blown back, this was purely blueprint-unrolling and foundation-pouring. Decent bit of wasted time with random moments spent on nothingburger characters and filler commentary, so you’ll be able to spot the bearing walls going up straightaway. Or, hey, here they are...

Foundation Pour One: Mickey Dean

Mikey’s looking for a do-over here in our world since he kinda whiffed it in his, we knew that, so during his recon he’s recruiting as he goes. We also likely all figured he’d be going after angels on the low-down, but he’s a smart cookie and he’s being thorough, injecting some diversity into his army over here. “Faithful” humans, for one - well, the ones who’d like to think themselves faithful - and also angels who walk a fine line. And then vampires, and the inference there being that we’ll have more creature features popping up for the monster squad.

Including demons.

There were multiple weird, unneeded anvil expositions in this ep, but then there was a “hmmmm” one regarding this rando demon (obnoxious as all-get-out, really grating, but Sam iced him, no worries) who comments to Cas that someone asked him to think about what he really wanted out of his life - Mikey’s shtick/the speech he’s giving - so it makes me think one of two things:

(1) Coincidence

(2) Not coincidence; Mikey, via his demon buddy - buddies? who knows - got wind that Cas had feelers out, and he sent this dude to be the one that answered the call, and ideally kill TFW

Does it matter? No. Just would be another knife-twister for Mikey to toss out at Sam and Cas when the throwdown happens in (checks watch) next ep.

ETA: forgot to add my witty “speaking of knife twister” comment before - one of the weird exposition anvils was the pointed bringing up of the fact that the archangel blade... what, killed? ejected?... Lu-Lu without 86′ing Nick, though if that applies to Dean’s Michael situation... I mean..... fuck if I know.  Put it this way: if it’s a hint, it was clunky; if it’s a misdirect, it was clunky. Anyhow, it was my understanding that the whatever-something-blah-blah that Crowley did essentially made Nick into the walking dead.

Hey, speaking of again....

Foundation Pour Two: Nick

I am cool with this either way, Nick or Luci, Pellegrino’s a great actor and I’m pleased he’s still around. This could be good for both Nick and Sam, let them work out some shit as they have a Lu-Lu reign of terror in common. Phenomenal scene - because it was kept simple - with MP and JP. 

Here’s my thing - archangel grace residuals, amirite? And that shit must regen better than red blood cells, for a recent receipt see last season, re: both Gabe and Lu getting some real drainage done and popping back like bosses in pretty short order. Archangel grace is no joke.

So I would reeeeeally like to see it be legit Nick for awhile, maybe even bond with folks - hell, bond with Dean, think about it - but that slowly Luci creeps back in, and that they let Pellegrino play it so smoothly, no slip-ups, no showing us in dreams or hallucinations or voices, just boo-yah, it comes out that Lucifer’s “grown back” at a critical moment. I would really like it if that reveal came out in the middle of a bad fight, and he saves them, because now Mikey’s our primary big bad, and Luci can.... heh.... spread his wings.

OR, I’d also be okay with the entire thing being a long con, with Jack’s grace having saved Luci. They showed some Nick flashbacks, because Dabb never met an anvil he didn’t wanna drop (we get that he was traumatized, we’re not cro-magnon, we didn’t need a flashback, if someone is tuning into a 14 year old show for the first time tonight, they’re just gonna have to fucking tread water and catch up), but someone could explain that away as Nick residuals while the grace was regenerating. Either way would be interesting. 

Not a word of that will happen.

Foundation Pour Three: Jack

This isn’t anything, this is sophomore creative writing, you likely had this in your mind at last season’s end, how it’s gonna be weird for him to adapt without his powers. I can think of a million different ways that they can take this, but I’m sure they’ll do something boring like a do-over of Sam’s downing demon blood thing, except with Jack it’ll be huffing grace.

Lookit, I like Jack to the extent that he’s giving Cas something to do/giving Misha something to do. Otherwise.... meh. Whatevs. I’m not watching this show for teen angst. The only reason I’d have perhaps watched Wayward would be for Jody and Donna, but if it turned into one of the other zillion shows on CW, then thanks-no-thanks. But the kid’s a really good actor, so... again, “meh” on Jack. Cas is a good dad, that’s why I like Jack being around.

Foundation Pour Four: Sam

These are just blips in terms of ep time, but two things here - Sam’s behaving as a natural leader, just doing it vs. it being made a big deal that he’s doing it (waves at 12!), and I also like that he’s just getting down to business when it comes to finding Dean - it’s a greeeeeaaaat contrast to the palpable panic underneath the surface that we saw with the Demon Dean situation. Both were/are correct. Sam had the normal reaction then, and his reaction now follows suit, he’s been through the shit, he’s more calloused. Points to Padalecki. Also points for Sam’s big dick action, declaring there’s not gonna be a new king of hell, so they can all screw off or else they’ll have to deal with him. #cue the smoke outs

Foundation Pour Five:

They are setting up a Bobby boner for Mary.

Foundation Pour Six: 

Seems like Ketch will return! [yaaaaaaay! Davey boy’s a gem] And it sounds like he’s actually helping, so I like this. It was necessary exposition that was fairly fluidly done, and I am assuming it was a necessary set-up for future Ketch because not everybody was accounted for (Rowena, Charlie, etc.) like goddamned Mouseketeer roll call from the finale (or next-to-last ep in 13, can’t recall, whatever, it was baaaad).

Tiny pours:

----> They’re wanting us to be familiar with all the new hunters.

I could not possibly care less.

They super-de-dooperty want us to care about this one chick who has perpetually wide doe eyes, guess what: I couldn’t possibly care less part deux about poor man’s Shelley Duvall. I have no idea how she survived more than five minutes in apocaland, she legit looked at Mary tonight and basically asked how a knife worked, hand to god. They’ll end up killing her, it’s fine.

----> They want us to care about Anael/Sister Jo, a.k.a. Not My Anna/Not My Jo.

I care even less about this character than I do about the aforementioned hunters, I have no idea what purpose she serves, I know she’s done things but nothing that was truly of import that couldn’t have been written another way/the other characters could’ve gotten to the same point another way

That’s about it, hopefully we get the ball rolling next week because this was sufficient groundwork, they can move on. 👍

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Omen 5

A/n: mentioned smut 

Link to Chapter 4 

Words: 1,777

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

_______

“Cause I just can't look. Its killing me and taking control. Jealousy, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on sick lullabies, choking on your alibis. But its just the price I pay. Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes. 'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside.” ~The Killers

Gabriel followed Michael outside. This was the last thing that he really wanted to be doing and he knew that you were beyond furious! Michael stopped walking a few feet from the house and turned to face his little brother.

“So enlighten me...whats with the human?”

Gabriel frowned, mentally trying to keep himself calm so he didn't run his mouth.

“Her name is Y/n. I am with her because I love her that is all that you need to know.”

Michael shook his head.

“What has she done to you? Gabriel you are being more stubborn then normal. That is  a feat in itself.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“I'm stubborn because all of the hell that I have been through lately. Its nothing that you would understand. She gets me.”

Michael looked like he could gag after hearing his brother's comment.

“Our family needs to stop with this whole Winchester attraction we seem to have!”

Gabriel snorted.

“You first.”

Right as Michael was about to make another snarky comment; he looked up to see you walking out of the house. Sam, Dean, and Cas were right behind you telling you to stop.

“Your little human looks angry.”

Gabriel turned seeing you getting into your car.

“Ya think? Jeez Michael, you sure are good about stating the obvious. Excuse me.”

You meanwhile, had just started your car when Gabriel appeared in the passenger seat.

“Y/n, what are you doing?”

You turned to face your boyfriend, who didn't look to pleased.

“Going on a drive. What are you doing here?”

Gabriel shrugged.

“Well hell I don't know. I see you throwing a tantrum and your brothers freaking out so makes me wonder.”

You took a breath for a moment before beginning to speak.

“I just need to clear my head.”

Gabriel held out his hand.

“Give me the keys.”

You didn't move to take the keys out of the ignition. Instead you sat silent for a few moments.

“Y/n?”

“I heard.”

You said. Gabriel leaned back.

“I don't see why you are so huffy. I'm trying to help stomach crazy Michael from taking over the world. I'm trying to show your brothers that I am no wimp or failure.”

You reached up tagging on your hair.

“What about me in all of this Gabe? Where do I stand or do I even apply to anything other then bed buddy? Because I sure as hell don't feel like it! You don't care how I felt when you didn't come through that rift...”

Gabriel held his hand up.

“Enough! You are not some common whore! Like I've told you many of times, I am trying to protect you! You are just making my life difficult.”

You got out of the car and started to walked back toward the house. Gabriel quickly got out of the car and started to walk after after you.

“Y/n! Don't walk away from me.”

You turned looking at Gabriel taking in his furious expression.

“Gabriel, if you want to have jackass over there be in your best friend for ever circle. Have at it! He just killed my brother and stabbed you. I don't give a good god damn it it was alternate Michael or not! You want to prove to my brothers that you aren't a wimp? Well here they are! Knock yourself out! But don't worry about me! Don't take my feelings into any form of consideration. I am just some weak human that can't handle anything.”

You turned away walking back into the house leaving Sam and Dean staring between the two of you. Michael was looking awkwardly at the ground himself. Sure, you and Gabriel argued like cats and dogs at points but this had to be one of your worst arguments yet!

Gabriel stood motionless for a few moments. Sam and Dean was looking at the archangel. Dean held up a hand.

“I am going to make a comment here. Gabe, I didn't really expect you two jumping down each others throats.”

Gabriel groaned.

“Yeah, I never did either.”

Gabriel felt guilty right away. You were right and he knew it. He should have talked to you. You did deserve that. Maybe his over protectiveness was actually becoming something of a threat?

“I'm going to go try to talk to her.”

Gabriel mumbled before walking back into the house. Walking into the bedroom that you had been staying in, he sighed seeing you sitting on the bed with your knees drawn up to your chest. He stood watching you for a few moments before sitting on the bed.

Gabriel gave you a bit to start talking. If you wanted to fuss, yell, or scream he would sit and listen to you. He should have listened to all of your pain when you tried originally. The last thing that he should have done was just tell you to relax and everything would be fine. How was you supposed to believe that? The last time that he had, Gabriel had ended up with an angel blade in his body.

After waiting a few moments, Gabriel wrapped his wings around you pulling you close.

“I'm sorry, sugar.”  

You sat quietly but didn't object to the gentle caresses that Gabriel was giving you.

“Y/n, please. I know that you are disappointed. I get it. If you will just talk to me, I promise to listen!”

You looked up slowly. Gabriel was upset with himself. He reminded you of the archangel that had been drug into the bunker by Arthur Ketch.  

“I just don't want you around Michael. He scares me.”

Gabriel forced a smile.

“Nothing scares, my princess.”

You chuckled before becoming serious again.

“You're funny but yes he does. Gabe, its hard for me to trust a guy who killed my twin and you. It also doesn't help that the freak job is running around in my father's body. There is also the fact that he insulted us”

Gabriel reached down pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“And I am not going to put up with that! If he opens his mouth I am going to be shutting him down. He isn't going to be around you without me there. Michael won't stick around. Its not his style. I promise sweetheart, everything will be fine.”

You sat quietly a moment longer before eagerly pushing Gabriel back on the bed. He seemed a little shocked when you pounced on him and crammed your lips to his. His arms went around you, deepening the kiss.

“Guess we are still friends?”

Gabriel asked as you pulled away to breathe.

“Yeah, we are still friends. Why don't you use some of your grace to remove all of these layers of fabric? We can go for round two?”

Gabriel immediately looked like a kid at Christmas.

“You have the right guy underneath you for that!”

Meanwhile,

Dean sat at the table watching Sam play chess with Jack while Jody went out to get stuff for dinner. Michael sat awkwardly silent and still on the couch. He knew that Dean was watching him like a hawk. It wasn't like Michael wanted to be there but he wanted to see what he could do to get rid of his doppleganger that was trying to ruin everything.

The moment there was a loud crash and giggling from upstairs, Sam and Dean looked up before making gagging motions at each other. Jack didn't even bother looking up from his chess game.

“I believe that Jody's cat broke something.”

Michael said dryly. Dean laughed.

“That would be your brother breaking my sister.”

It took Michael all of  seconds to comprehend what Dean was saying. His expression went to sure disgust.

“Disgusting!”

Dean laughed hard.

“Whats the matter Michael? Are you too good to find a human girl and bang her?”

Michael rolled his eyes.

'Yes, I am. If my brother wants to copulate with a human that is his own business. It appears that my opinion doesn't matter to him.”

Sam meanwhile, was giving Dean a cold expression. The last thing that he wanted for Jack to hear any of this! He didn't need to hear about his uncle and most likely “aunt to be” screwing each other.

Dean was gagging inside over Michael's wording. He could have made some comment as simple as I don't want to hear it, know it, whatever! Instead, he had to go with some blunt biblical sounding sentence.

“Okay, that's enough.”

Dean snapped awkwardly. After another crash, Michael stood quickly.

“That's it! I can't stand this no longer! If Gabriel knows what good for him he will not get her pregnant! One nephilim is enough!”

Michael stomped out of the room to stand awkwardly outside.

Meanwhile back upstairs....

Gabriel continued to thrust into you lazily. His fingers were running through your hair as he sucked at your neck. You knew that you were going to be littered with love bites but you didn't give a damn.

“If you want to freak Michael out, you could always wear your hair up. Let him see what I've done to your neck.”

You chuckled at the snarky tone in your lover's voice.

“And you are reading my mind.”

Gabriel laughed as he withdrew and pulled you into his arms.

“Wanted to make sure that I did a good job. I know that you were moaning my name but your mind is like my person suggestion box.”

Rolling your eyes, you snuggled against his chest.

“I was screaming your name, Gabe.”

“I have a talent of making you do that, eh?”

Gabriel twirled his fingers in your hair before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Go to sleep, sugar. You have time to take a nap before Jody comes back from the store. Wan drive Michael nuts later. You know...making out on the couch or any available surface so he has to watch.”

You yawned no longer fighting the smile from forming on your face.

“You are going to scar your nephew.”

Gabriel shrugged.

“Kid needs to get out of the line of fire.”

____

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[dreamin-of-somewhere-else]

The Novaks: The One Where You Fight Back

Characters: Balthazar, Gabriel, Lucifer, Castiel, Michael x sister!reader

Words: 2000

Warnings: A little bit of blood, minor injury, physical + verbal fight, swearing, fluff. Tagging stuff just to be safe.

A/N: Hello mates. I’m back with another piece of this series. I am going to mix it up with other fics, but I’ve been feeling inspired :) This is based on two of your suggestions, with a few changes. Hopefully it’ll still be recognizable. Read about how the series work and the other part here: The Novaks Masterlist

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You walk out of the building that makes you feel like a caged tiger — school — with a sigh, rolling your shoulders back. You’re free for a few hours now until you have to return for another day — if you don’t count the seemingly never ending pile of homework you’ve been given.

Honking breaks through your thoughts along with the chatter of the other students, and your head whip in the direction it’s coming from, your intuition telling you about who it might be.

And you’re right, because you then spot Balthazar and Gabriel inside a car you don’t recognize. It’s red and the sunlight is bouncing off the metallic car paint and it’s definitely not yours.

Rolling your eyes, you walk up to your older brothers waiting eagerly inside the vehicle.

”Please tell me you didn’t steal this.” You state, placing your forearms against the frame of the rolled down window, gazing inside.

”No, we burrowed it.” Gabriel tells you before stuffing a colorful piece candy into his mouth coming from an equally colorful paper bag.

”What do you mean, ’burrowed’ it?” You raise an eyebrow, squinting your eyes as you glare disapprovingly at the duo.

”That lady, Ellen Harvelle, you know?” Balthazar begins explaining, looking at you for confirmation. You nod. ”She’s paying us to pick up some stuff for her.”

”And besides,” Gabriel continues, ”she’s kind of scary, so we’re definitely gonna turn it back. Thought we could pick up you and Cas on the way though. Give you a ride for once.”

You bite down on your lip, trying to keep the small smile off your face. It’s pretty sweet of them actually, thinking that it’d be cool to drive you when they have the opportunity, since you’d never really had anyone to drive you to school.

Then you turn to look across the school yard — seeing the teens pour into the parking lot, either to hop on the buss, or find their parent’s car or maybe even their own — searching for Castiel. He’s not to be seen, but you spot something else that catches your attention.

This guy, Brad, is picking on some innocent freshman. Brad’s in your year and such a stereotypical jock, it’s almost embarrassing. Picked up from a lame teen movie, and dropped into the shitty school you go to.

Anger and disgust are rising within you as you began walking towards the jock, the freshman and the group of hopeless teens surrounding them, mumbling a faint ’be right back’ to your brothers over your shoulder.

First of, you don’t pick on someone smaller than your size. Secondly, you already hated Brad’s guts. He had personally given you a hard time in school as well, commenting on your family, your appearance, and your lack of money. Just ’cause his parents spoil him to no end, and your dad decided to leave. You’ve been coping by ignoring him, talking back or simply giving him the ever so expressive middle finger, but no matter how pathetic this jock was, his words still hurt. Which made you hate him even more.

In this very moment, he’s busy shoving that tiny freshman around, himself and the students looking on laughing. The freshman looks like he’s about to burst out in tears any moment.

”Hey, Brad!” You exclaim, announcing your presence. You’d been hoping to just ignore it, but enough is enough. This kid needs a reality check.

You successfully step in between Brad and the younger kid, giving the jock a hard shove just as he’s about to pick the kid’s glasses off his freckled face.

”Back off, you pathetic ass.” You push the kid behind you as you speak, never taking your stare away from Brad.

”Where did you come from?” He asks, confused. ”And why are you defending that? Are you dating or some shit like that?” He starts laughing at the last sentence.

”Shut the hell up and do us all a favor and get the hell out of here.” You walk slowly, threateningly closer and only stop when you stand a couple of feet away from Brad. You keep nailing him with your eyes, not backing down.

He doesn’t either.

”I don’t hit ladies,” he states, eyes glimmering meanly. ”But you aren’t one, so we don’t have a problem here.”

Before you can process what he said, a force hits you and you’re falling to the asphalt. Around you, you hear gasping. Then you’re on the ground, lower back aching and palms stinging. You lift one, and hiss when you see blood and small a few pebbles stuck in your skin.

You look up at Brad, but don’t even have time to blink before a fist connects with Brad’s baby face — making you flinch in surprise, sending him staggering backwards. It’s Balthazar’s fist, and Gabriel’s right behind.

They’re going to ’Novak him up’ as they like to call it; or in other words, beat him up.

It takes you a few moments until your inattentive mind catches up to what’s happening, all to the sound of the commotion. There’s sounds of fists connecting to body, grunts and gasps, screams, cheers from the spectators. But it’s the sound of your own heartbeat that overpowers everything.

"Always has to have her brothers fight her battles for her.”

Despite all the noise around you, you still hear that one sentence. It’s spoken by a girl who’s leaning closer to her friend as she talks, eyeing you on the ground. Your eyes shoot to her, and she looks away. But new willpower has risen within you, and you scramble to your feet.

You’re not going to be that person. The one who starts her own fights, but can’t finish them. The one who can’t defend herself, the one that needs her brothers constantly protecting her.

”Balt! Gabe!” You call, running the few steps up to them, grabbing both of their shirts, a fistful in each hand. ”Stop!”

They have the upper hand on Brad, which has pretty much been the case from the start, and it takes a few seconds too much for you to get them to listen. You continue to pull on their shirts, trying to get past. Soon they get the memo, and step back with confused looks on their faces, hair messy, knuckles sore.

”I don’t need you stupid pity,” Brad growls at you as he slowly stands up fully.

”Trust me, you aren’t getting any.”

With that line, you throw your fist in the direction of his nose. It feels shamefully good when it hits and his head is thrown backwards.

Blood drips down his face when he collects himself and stares at you with fearful eyes.

But you don’t get to celebrate, because suddenly, you hear yelling. You don’t bother listening in to what they’re saying but your English teacher along with another teacher are running towards you, and soon there’s hands wrapping around your upper arms, pulling you back.

”Lucifer?” You ask through the phone pressed to your ear, voice hushed.

After unsuccessful attempts to get a hold of either of your parents — duh — you got to try and reach them yourself.

And you could have called Michael, he is the one who usually handled this type of stuff after all. He has lots of experience from when Gabriel and Balthazar still were in school. Although, they weren’t the worst behaved of the Novak kids.

Instead, you called Lucifer. You have a feeling he would be less annoyed, and Michael angry isn’t what you want to deal with right now.

”(Y/N)?” Lucifer asks from the other end of the line, surprised.

You don’t have your own phone, just a cheap one you shared with Castiel, so he didn’t expect to talk to you when an unknown number called.

”Yeah,” you confirm. ”Can you come to my school? Principal’s office.”

”Woah, (Y/N). What did my little sister do to end up there?” Lucifer snicker, voice laced with faux awe.

”Just get you ass over here,” you groan, eyes wandering over the interior of the waiting room outside the principal’s office and the few people inside.

Your eyes linger on the door you know said principal is waiting behind.

”On one condition.” Lucifer challenges you from the other end and you roll your eyes.

”What?”

”Do my chores for the rest of the week.”

You run a hand over your face. ”Sure.”

”And, I won’t tell Michael.” Lucifer could read your mind, even over the phone. ”Thanks. Just hurry.”

”I’m going now.”

He hangs up before you have the time to answer, and you’re left with beeping signals. You hang up as well, and sigh as you slide down further into your seat as if you’re melting, legs sprawled over the floor in front of you.

Of course you’re the one that’s blamed.

Soon Lucifer shows up and the first thing he seems to notice as he walks up to you is the gauze pads  taped to your hands.

”It’s not bad at all,” you tell him.

Then you quickly explain what happened before the principal opens the door, and you walk into his office.

”Lucifer.” The principal rises his eyebrows at the sight of your blond older brother as you sit down in front of his desk. ”Sooner than expected. Here I was, hoping Novak was a common last name.”

”Afraid not,” you mumble under your breath, mostly to yourself.

”I’m back,” Lucifer flashes a crocked half-grin. ”Missed me?”

”Not in the slightest,” the principal responds without a doubt, and you have to bite your lip to not laugh at that.

Lucifer looks a bit offended, sits up straighter in his chair, grin gone.

He still delivers though. Your older brother is very manipulative, and it’s great when he does it in your favor. With his carefully chosen words he can turn almost every situation to his favor. Well, his words and maybe that special, almost dangerous glimpse he has in his eyes, that makes you feel like there’s an underlying meaning to every syllable leaving his mouth.

10 minutes later, the two of you leave the office, you without nothing more than a warning and Lucifer with a satisfied grin on his face. He ruffles your hair to your slight annoyance, and then you begin walking home.

Opening the door, the first thing you see is Castiel walking up to you, and then wrapping his arms around you.

”Damn, Cas, I was just at the principal’s. Nothing serious.” You say, rubbing his back.

”I know (Y/N), but I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Castiel mumbles into your shoulder.

You pull back to look into his ocean blue eyes, half-smiling. ”Don’t worry Cas. You can’t be around me all the time, and I don’t expect that of you. It’s okay.”

You feel bad seeing him feel guilty. This isn’t his fault in any way, and you really hope he can see that. Your brother is a person though who tends to blame himself a lot though.

But Castiel nods. You smile.

”Okay.”

”Hey, (Y/N)!” Gabriel exclaims. He’s sitting in the couch in front of your small TV, craning his neck to see you. ”Wanna watch a movie?”

It’s dark inside the house, and the only source of light is a lamp in the kitchen, and the screen of the TV.

You nod, smiling wider. ”Yeah, sure.”

You walk over to the couch, Gabriel scoots over to the far right end and you sit down next to him. On your left side, Balthazar sits down, and then next to him, Castiel does. The small, worn, couch is now packed — limbs everywhere — and it’s pretty warm, but you just got inside from being out in the cold with Lucifer so it feels pretty nice.

Lucifer himself sits down on the floor besides the couch, and even Michael joins you a few moments into the film, pulling up one of the chairs from the kitchen besides the couch.

During a sad — and pretty quiet — moment of the movie, you speak up, mainly to Gabriel and Balthazar, even though you know the others can hear too.

”Guys, you don’t need to defend me anymore.” You say, looking down at your hands in your lap. ”I can take care of myself.”

”We know you can.” Gabriel tells you. ”It’s just that old habits die hard, you know.”

You nod. You do know.

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[porcileorg]

Discussing the group show ‘sensational and anti-generative successions’ @ Nir Altman, Munich (opened 2019-10-25)

Participating artists: Brandon Covington Sam-Sumana, Steffani Jemison, Ndayé Kouagou, Kengné Téguia Curated by: Cédric Fauq

Conversants: The Bensplainer and Victor Sternweiler ... sitting on a bench at ca. 11 pm, after the opening of the above mentioned exhibition.

The Bensplainer: So, I think it was a good selection.

Victor: Probably the finest show at Nir Altman’s up to date. But it’s a matter of taste.

The Bensplainer: On the other hand, the eccentricity of artists like Ndayé Kouagou and Kengné Téguia allows us to experience some weirdness. Kouagou comes from poetry, thus he’s not a trained visual artist. Nevertheless, there is something genuine about the way he visualized and acted his performance, as well as he presented his sculptures. Yeah, one cannot really say that this performance was somehow new…

Victor: What do you mean with new?

The Bensplainer: There were many 1960s references. The first name which popped into my head is Bruce Nauman, of course. Magda made a further comment, mentioning Samuel Beckett. So, this is the kind of tradition Kouagou seems to refer to, yet interpreting it freely. On a reception level—thus probably only through my eyes and experiences—I also like to see it as an unintentional criticism at analogous performances so popular in Munich: Kouagou didn’t read. He really performed.

Victor: It wasn’t this type of lecture performance.

The Bensplainer: Exactly. Like those by Tris Vonna-Michell some 15 years ago. I find Kouagou’s performance was properly theatrical.

Victor: I don’t think it was theatrical, in the stiff sense performances in the white cube are exercised nowadays, to my perception. It didn’t come as a thoroughly choreographed piece. He reacted to the audience’s reactions and comments in a natural way—call it postdramatic. He probably did it for the 20th time.

The Bensplainer: Isn’t theater ’theater,’ if you perform a piece more than once?

Victor: Even if it was, he performed it very 'leggero.' The reason why I liked it in particular is that most of the white cube performances nowadays don't seem to be informed by what has been happening in theater domain, they come along either as lecture performances or as sacred rituals in dramatic settings—these performances are oftentimes taken too seriously by their originators. The audience is supposed to be quiet and every move feels like an unwelcome interruption.

The Bensplainer: I wrote a message to Magda before, asking about her opinion on the performance, since she had to leave right after.

Magda’s text response: Ndayé was performing his blackness most strongly (or rather the moment I felt my whiteness as part of the all-white audience) was when he said (and I misquote) "I like boundaries - you stand there and I am here." I think he might have also drawn a line with his hands. I wonder whether previous audiences were so homogeneous. What about the Childish Gambino's musical video?

Victor: I don’t know the video in question, but it is funny, because it might have more to do with her general cultural sensibility apperception, than with Kouagou’s performance.

The Bensplainer: Magdalena’s point is interesting, because formally that is consistent: Kouagou was performing with top half naked, only wearing sort of lacerated beige trousers and black sneakers. Gambino’s costume is similar, as he wears some grayish trousers, which could refer to the Confederates' military uniform during the American Civil War. There’s probably a shared symbolism: this might be Magdalena’s suggestion.

Victor: I don’t really buy into that logic by linking gestures in an art performance, say not wearing a shirt, to the notion of origin or even of politics of blackness etc. I find it a very vague link. In that case we could paradoxically link it to Freddie Mercury's persona, as well. I mean, he performed most of his life topless, on stage. But let’s go to the factual description of the performance.

The Bensplainer: Well, in the first part Kouagou came into the gallery space, he carried a plastic white chair, then put it on one side of the invisible stage of the gallery.

Victor: That plastic garden chair is perhaps the most popular design object ever.

The Bensplainer: He turned on some music from his phone. He started moving quite mechanically à la Nauman, tracing a square around the chair on the floor, at first only step by step – 2 steps each side –, then framing it with tape for the audience. That task remained incomplete. Then he sat down on the chair, and stopped the music. So, the performance’s second act started, and it was about him performing his material, randomly moving his body or the chair outside and inside the taped square. He acted in a Beckett-style text.

Victor: Kouagou seemed to improvise it, talking about love, and “I don’t know what I’m doing here” alike, so back and forth. Quite an ironic commentary of him on the bourgeois type of galleries’ audience, I think. But what do you think about his objects?

The Bensplainer: You mean the sculptures, the Untitled (no dates) hanging from the ceiling? These are more problematic in my view. They were stashed between, I think, two layers of A3-sized Plexiglas. On one side there was printed some texts, which echoed what he recited within the performance. Inside the two plexiglass sheets, there were shirts crystalized with resin.

Victor: Then there was the frame jeans jacket, half folded and wrinkled.

The Bensplainer: This kind of visualization is very typical today—Seth Price’s practice comes to mind—as well as this kind of autobiographical attitude.

Victor: What was written on the objects?

The Bensplainer: Again, some statements which recalled the performance, which showed existential frailty.

Victor: Resembling his performance, so to speak.

The Bensplainer: Exactly, like a repetition with difference.

Victor: I liked the way his objects were installed, hanging from the ceiling in that space. There was no wall behind defining their aura. You can generate 360 images when looking at them—a parallax effect. I would like to see them in a real living space situation and I hope nobody installs them close to a wall.

The Bensplainer: They are theatrical in this sense.

Victor: You insist on the term theater, but then we have to talk about Micheal Fried’s rejection of theatricality. I disagree with Michael Fried here.

The Bensplainer: Me too. So, let’s talk about Téguia’s videos.

Victor: I’m really curious about what you have to say about them, because, at an opening like that, there are so many people one happens to know and to greet, so I had to skip them completely. Prior to that, let’s talk a bit about the objects that were put or installed on the floor of the gallery.

The Bensplainer: I don't know really, since those works by Steffani Jamison didn't really catch my gaze.

Victor: The two transparent Plexiglas objects [Untitled (De Appel) (2018)] with a painted gesture on them, as big as a hand. They looked like those floor caution signs 'Danger – Slippery,' but the objects were transparent. I’d love to see that, installed in a non-white cube ambient where people would bump into. There I think of that Barnett Newman quote “Sculpture is what you bump into when you back up to look at a painting.”

The Bensplainer: As every great abstract painter, Newman has a sense for wit. At the same time Jamison's two sculptures may also be seen as a straight translation into Plexiglas of very common trestles, found in every artist's studio. The ironic element is clear to me, but not its pictorial concept though. On the other hand, Téguia's three video installations challenged me. All three were shown on cube monitors (CRT) placed on the floor and the audio got blasted through rather modest loudspeakers. The three works deal with repetition both in moving image and sound. As for the moving images–being a mysterious shadow figure in Times goes by so slowly (2015), a recut of Disney classic Snowhite in Blanche-Neige is my Bitch (2015), or a fragmented reality in Soul Sista x Kameugné (2014)—they are a reflection on Dara Birnbaum's practice, I suppose. Nevertheless, Téguia added complexity to it with the sound. It is not simply about Birnbaum's manipulation of a found object then, but about his own effort to cover some pop songs while dealing with his deafness. Not that personal narratives were here at stake as a statement: instead, the general claim–that we can understand the world logo-centrically–was questioned here. Who's speaking, and how? And who's hearing, and how? The indeterminacy of perception was accompanied by the observer's possibility to engage relationally with the work, picking up the loudspeaker and listening materially to the sound through its vibration.

Victor: Sounds cool. Can't say anything about it. What’s our next drink? …

The Bensplainer: GRAPPA!