#anyway they don’t find out Charlie is a leviathan until like a year later when Kevin (paranoid and traumatized) does his borax super soaker

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinking about leviathan!charlie again. the stynes corner her and she Fucking Eats Them

[codependentsoulmates]

RANKING EVERY SEASON OF SUPERNATURAL

Let’s a-freakin’-go, Mario.

12. Season 7. Leviathans. And Sam’s god-awful wolverine sideburns. ‘Nuff said.

11. Season 6. Soulless Sam was hilariously, sarcastically endearing for a little while, but towards the end of the Soulless Sam arc, just, ugh. I wanted to fast forward so bad. Samuel coming back was unnecessary and anticlimactic, “evil Cas” was an eye roller, I didn’t give a shit about Lisa and Ben, um... EVE??? What the actual fuck was that. She was possibly the single most wasted, ultra-super-anticlimactic use of a story arc that I’ve ever seen. There were a few redeeming episodes (i.e. Clap Your Hands If You Believe).

10. Season 9. Okay, this could be biased just based on how much I truly cannot stand God!Metatron. S10/11 Metatron is great; he’s such a little jerk that you cant help but find him funny. But S9 Metatron... holy shit. It was like being subjected to hours upon hours of having to watch only the Umbridge scenes from Harry Potter on repeat. It felt like legitimate torture trying to force myself to finish the season. Plus, yes, I ended up liking Gadreel later (much later) on, but Gadreel!Sam felt like it went on forever. I was over it and it was like the end of it would never come. Also, I’m just gonna say it: Abaddon was boring and annoying, and the only reason she was even an issue was because Sam and Dean thought, “Hey, wow, let’s experiment on the most powerful demon we know of roaming the Earth right now. We cut off her hands, nothing will go wrong!” Riiiight... okay. Also, Kevin’s death was seriously messed up and unnecessary and I still haven’t forgiven them for it, so. But uh, human!Cas was super endearing though, and even though I really don’t ever want actual human Cas to become a thing, it was cute for awhile. 

9. Season 12. Alright. I don’t share the exact same sentiment or level of hatred that a lot of other people seem to for this season, but it had... a lot of issues. So, uh. Buckle up. First of all... Lucifer. While I don’t... hate the idea of him coming back as a villain, just so many things about this were... sigh. Rockstar!Lucifer was - and I’m gonna fucking say it - truly awful. So, so awful. Maybe he could’ve worked on another show, but with Lucifer’s character/personality having already been so established and defined on Supernatural, it just felt out of place. He was not the same character - which is something I often complain about with the Rubys. We had just come from Casifer - which was brilliant and so, so in character - and then we get this... weird, unsnarky, not sarcastic or playful at all version of Lucifer and... pass. Moving on... they finally get to put Luci back in his cage and... then Crowley decides to keep him as a pet? And believe Lucifer - fucking LUCIFER - now bows to him and won’t get away? And assume the demons who have time and time again always helped Lucifer, will now follow him instead? What??? Crowley isn’t that dumb, and he could’ve achieved ruling Hell again with no problems if Lucifer was in the cage. It made no sense to me. And um. Lucifer having a child? Seriously? So much reaching going on. Now to the second issue: The British Men of Letters. Okay. They started off as the enemy this season. The title sequence was the MoL symbol. And yet... they weren’t that relevant or threatening until the last couple of episodes (and those were, well, in nicer terms... questionable.) They either should’ve saved a Lucifer-returning-as-the-enemy storyline for later or saved the BMoL. Together, it was just too much and not enough expansion. Side note: I loathe the BMoL like I loathe God!Metatron. Which brings me to the third - and maybe biggest - issue I had with this season: Mary fucking Winchester. What the fuck. What the actual fuck, were the writers thinking. They legitimately ruined her. Throughout the series you have this wonderful idea built up about her: she was a badass hunter and she sacrificed things for John and she loved her boys so, so much and she gave up hunting for good because that was never the life she wanted and just. Then she’s here and you’re like finally Sam and Dean get to have a fucking parent who is there for them and can nurture them for once in their goddamn lives, and then. Then she’s a different Mary and she’s back to only caring about hunting even though she never liked hunting in the first place and she’s working for the people who tortured her son and she’s leaving her boys who just got her back, who she just got back, and she was going to let them die or get hurt for the goddamn Colt that she didn’t even know was the Colt. And I just. I couldn’t get with it, I’m sorry. Oh, and also everyone fucking DIES this season, so that was just fucking great, too.

8. Season 10. This is an unpopular opinion, I’m sure, but I hated Deanmon and I was glad we didn’t have to see him that long and suffer like we did with Soulless Sam. That being said, they did way overhype Deanmon, which was pretty uncool and unfair. But I honestly hated the Mark of Cain - it went on waaaaay too long - and I really, really dislike seeing Dean be... not Dean... so... Also, I am still pissed the fuck off at Charlie’s death, so I refuse to rank this any higher out of spite, too. But um. They killed fucking DEATH this season. And while I was actually really unhappy about it because Death was cool as hell, that scene with Sam like, just wrecked, and Dean’s “Close your eyes, Sammy” kinda made it really, really almost worth it. (You’ll soon realize I really only care a lot about Sam and Dean’s relationship and their Absolute Best Moments™ that wrench my heart.)

7. Season 8. Unfortunately, the writers decided hey, let’s ruin Sam’s character a little fucking more and write him as OOC as possible by having him not actually give a shit where the fuck Dean was for an entire year because he was too busy fucking some piece of shit girl! Seriously, I didn’t think I could dislike anyone more than I hated Ruby 2.0 or Gordon... and then came Amelia. I have yet to encounter a person in the Spn-verse that is worse than her. No joke. This season ranks above the others though because it was less “meh” or all over the place. And because Mrs. Tran being a complete baller for just a single episode was more entertaining that any of the main story arcs for any of those seasons below. Also, more importantly, it had more of a return to what Supernatural is supposed to be - I’m looking at you S6/7 - and even though trying to close the gates of Hell was pointless and we knew it was never gonna happen, I have a sick love for suffering!Sam at any given time because then Dean goes into overprotective big bro mode and they stop fighting and being jerks to each other for a lil’ while and we get Seasons 1-5 (eh, minus 4) bro’ lovin’ and protectin’ again. Plus, this season holds my favorite quote/speech Dean has ever said to Sam (you know what I’m talking about) and I already said I’m a sucker for heart-wrenching moments between them, so.

6. Season 4. Probably yet another unpopular opinion, but oh well. Ruby 2.0... gag me. Way to ruin a good character. Plus, as much as I love Gen, I loved nothing about her portrayal of Ruby. It wasn’t the same character. That’s the bottom line. Also Sam’s demon blood addiction and him so far up Ruby’s ass all season??? Vomit. Skip. Next. Literally if Sam listened to Dean for legit two seconds, the Apocalypse could’ve been avoided. But Castiel! And the angel arc! The actual saving graces (hah, literally) of the season.

5. Season 1. I feel really weird about placing this season this low because it’s really just as good as the two I’ve ranked above it, but. I suppose that’s cheating. Season 1 holds a very, very special place in my heart, is all. It’s the OG season, monster-of-the-week episodes (which, side note: makes no sense to me when people rank S1 super low because there were “too many monster-of-the-week episodes.” Um, yeah.. that’s kinda... what the show is fucking about? Sam and Dean... hunting monsters? But okay, anyway...) Baby Sam and Dean!!! The world wasn’t fucked yet! Lil’ skulky Sam!! Okay, real talk, S1-3 (and 5) Sam was fucking BALLER. He was the best Sam, and then the writers trashed his character, so. Cool. This season is really only this low because I had to fully rank this and because John was kinda a dick. But I loved Sam fighting with him and Dean getting in between them to protect Sam. (Also, on another note: John was a piece of work but he was a better parent than S12 Mary, jussayin’.) (Also, also, it irritates the shit out of me just how much they ruined John’s character and who they made him out to be post-season 5. He was truly something else and he did some really shitty things, but I don’t think it was fair to do and I don’t think that was ever what Kripke intended for his character, but. Oh well. I digress.)

4. Season 11. Once again, I don’t necessarily rank this fully above S1 or below the next ranking, but. There was a lot of good things going on this season. Casifer was brilliant and delivered some of my favorite one-liners of the series. His interactions with God!Chuck were great. Him helping instead of being a villain, but still being a ridiculous child. God!Chuck was wonderful and handled really, really well. Also, his World’s Best Dad mug? I heart. Freakin’... Baby? Brilliant, incredible, amazing, wonderful, spectacular. Rowena was also bitchin’ this season, the whole flippin’ demons, angels, witches working together (even though it was just one episode) was suh-weeeet, Sam and Dean were vibin’ like early seasons Sam and Dean. I really wasn’t here for the forced Dean/Amara weird as hell relationship/attraction, though. It was... no. Just. No. Also like, Amara was okay and they did mostly show how powerful she was but like. Azazel, Lucifer, the Leviathans, Gordon, or basically... anyone felt like more of a threat than her, even though she was the only actual unstoppable force ever on the show. And while it was kinda nice for the finale to be her and Chuck working it out, it was also... kinda lame. Here’s this dark force that is the most powerful thing in existence, and it’s stopped by God... apologizing and hugging it out with her? Um... okay, I guess.

3. Season 3. Even though this season was short and waiting for Dean to die kinda sucked and put a damper on the whole season, it still is by far one of the best ones, hands down. Not only did we get Katie Cassidy’s badass, savage, cool as hell Ruby 1.0, we got Bela (who had so much wasted potential, sigh) and return of the Trickster, Bobby really becoming the boys’ father figure, and Sam finally getting to kill Actual Piece of Shit™ Gordon Walker. Season 3 also has some of the best episodes of the whole series - Bad Day At Black Rock, Mystery Spot, Ghostfacers - and we got A Very Supernatural Christmas, which gave us the birth of the Samulet, and I swear to god that scene made me actually cry a little bit. (A lotta bit.)

2. Season 2. This is like. THE Supernatural season. All the cool kids are introduced: Ellen, Jo, Ash, the Trickster, Tessa. Bobby becomes more involved, brotherly bonding up the wazoo, total badass, pure monster hunting. Episodes like Tall Tales and Hollywood Babylon. And episodes like Croatoan and Heart (which had one of the best endings to an episode in the series just in terms of emotion and how well it was set up with the song and ugh), and had debatably the best season finale of the whole show with All Hell Breaks Loose Parts 1 & 2. (It killed me.) Great monsters are introduced like shape shifters and djinns. Azazel was annoying but was an actual villain (unlike some of the later big “villains”) and he was that start and end of everything. He was the Winchesters’ reason for hunting, he catapulted everything. And everything was so simple and pure and made fucking sense. 

1. Season 5. I mean, there’s really no surprise here. It baffles me when S5 isn’t at the top of everyone’s list. While I don’t necessarily wanna go back and watch S5 episodes like I do with most other seasons, it was just the most well-rounded, well-thought out, well-executed season. No competition. Everything had a purpose and a meaning. Everything was tied up. Ellen and Jo die, which is a downer, but at least they were badass. Lucifer is a total tool, and you love it. It’s also Mark Pellegrino’s Lucifer, which is - quite obviously - the best Lucifer. Death is rad as hell. Cas is in his fucking prime this season. Sam and Dean love each other so fucking much this season. The Trickster/Gabriel is revealed as an archangel!! Crowley!! Bobby in his prime as Sam and Dean’s father figure!! Dark Side of the Moon A.K.A. one of my all-time favorite episodes and also one of the most beautifully shot episodes!! (And Ash in heaven! “Some people share, like soulmates”!!!!!!) The fucking END!!! I honestly would probably rank S5 at the top of this list solely for the scene where Lucifer is beating the crap out of Dean while Dean just keeps saying, “Sammy, it’s okay, I’m here” and then Sam’s montage of memories of him and Dean as he takes back control, and jeez holy shit is that montage beautiful and brilliant. That scene alone is probably the best scene in the whole show and I will defend that opinion until I die. The only bad things really in S5 were how unbelievably annoying Zachariah was and how I still think throwing their random half-brother in there just so Dean didn’t have to be Michael’s vessel was ridiculous and absurd. But really, this is the season. I’m glad the show didn’t end after this season, but holy fucking shit would it have been one of the sickest, best, most baller series finales of all time, and no matter what they do for the series finale now, this finale is so untouchable that it will never even come close to living up to it. 

[fanfic-from-a-67-impala]

A Supernatural x Reader Story Chapter Eighteen: The Girl with the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo, Part Two

Word count: 3292

(You can also read it on Wattpad here)

Master Post

Fifteen minutes later, you are peering through the window at Charlie, who sits in her cubicle, staring intently at her computer, the light flickering on her face with the changing screen. The entire time, you pace the small platform, running your fingers along your pendant as you wait for her to finish and get the hell out of the building.

In the corner of your eye, near the building's entrance, you see movement. When you glance down, you see a man in a suit with a cell phone to his ear and a familiar face you've only seen on screens striding toward the entrance.

Being in plain sight with nowhere to hide, you can only stay still, hoping not to draw Dick's attention. Thankfully, his wide eyes never deviate from the path straight ahead as he asks questions about a package at an airport.

As soon as he passes the threshold and you are no longer in his range of sight, you pull out your phone and dial Charlie's number.

"Miss me already?" she answers.

"Charlie," you plead. "Finish what you're doing and get out of there."

"What?" she asks. "Why?"

"Dick is here," you explain, "and I'm guessing finding out whatever's on that drive is the first thing on his to-do list."

"What do I do?" she asks, panic beginning to set into her voice.

"Breathe," you say, trying to keep the panic out of our own voice. "Listen to me – there's no time to run. You're going to take the drive, and you're going to hide until he leaves. Can you do that?"

"Uh... maybe? I –"

Her line goes silent and your heart beats so hard that you can hear it. "Charlie?"

"I think I heard something," she whispers before the line goes silent again, and then you hear the end call tone.

Slowly, you inch back toward the glass so you can see her, and nearly fall off the edge in shock when you see Dick already standing in front of her.

Words are exchanged between them, and she turns around to plug the drive back into her computer and show him what she found.

It is then that you hear the sweet sound of an old engine pulling into the parking lot. You begin to climb down the stories of the building. In your eagerness, your hand slips on the second floor before you can get a grip on the rope and the back of your head hits the pavement.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

You are snapped back into consciousness by the sound of glass crashing to the ground. You feel the impact of the fall everywhere, from the back of your head to your elbows to your heels. You lift your throbbing head and grip the back of it to find your hand covered in something sticky that you don't bother to check.

The shock keeps you on the ground for a moment before you realize you don't have time to be in shock. You rise to your feet, ignoring the pounding headache that you know will only get worse, and find that the crashing sound was the double doors of the building's entrance shattering and falling to the ground as the boys burst through them.

For a moment, there is no sound, then Charlie's panicked voice. "Dean, he's one of them!"

It is her cry that throws your legs into a sprint toward the door. By the time you reach them, two of the leviathans are on the ground, one unconscious and one screaming in pain, the burn from the Borax emitting a yellow smoke. Sam has scooped up a pained-looking Charlie in his arms.

"That would explain it," Dick says to Charlie. "You're hanging with the wrong crowd, kiddo."

The boys begin to step back as Dick steps forward until an invisible force flings him backward into a pillar, leaving the rest of you to stare in anticipation.

Bobby.

"All right, enough!" Dick yells, sitting upright. "Show yourself. Let's do this like real monsters."

It takes a while for you to register that the "monster" he is talking to is Bobby. You cannot fathom that he is now a ghost, a vengeful spirit. A thing to hunt.

"Come on," you distantly hear Sam call to you and Dean, but it is enough to snap you back to reality, and you follow the boys to the car.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

"Why didn't you kill him?" Charlie questions from the back seat of the boys' stolen car on the way to a hospital on the other side of the city. She sits with one arm wrapped around the other broken one, her red hair a tangled mess and her green eyes wide in distress.

You're hanging with the wrong crowd.

Dick's words echo through your thoughts. If you had heard that about the boys four years ago, you wouldn't have given it a second thought before disregarding it. But now, a considerable amount of doubt lingers for hours after. Sam and Dean have always been the "good guys." The ones who kept people safe and stopped "bad guys" like Dick. But the Sam and Dean you know wouldn't have dragged an innocent girl like Charlie into this mess. They wouldn't have sent her into the building full of leviathans to hack into an email account.

"We can't yet," Sam says. "But we will."

She lets out a sigh that only you can hear from the seat next to hers. "The really evil ones always need a special sword."

Dean shares a glance with you, then with Sam, before turning back to the road.

"Oh, okay," Charlie says faintly, her eyelids beginning to droop. "I'm going to pass out now."

You lift your hands as she adjusts her position to lay on her side with her head in your lap. You let one of your hands fall into hers, and you feel her lean into you.

Until you get to the hospital, this position shifts only briefly when Dean stops at the apartment so you can pack a few things. You walk back down to the car, a bag in each hand, and slide back into your seat, the weight of her head back on your lap.

With your free hand, you reach to the back of your head, which still aches from the fall, and gently press the area where you thought you felt blood. The unexpected jolt of pain makes you wince.

"(Y/N)?" Dean says, looking at you through the rearview mirror, as if asking what is wrong.

You drop your hand. "It was stupid," you try to brush it off. "I fell when I was trying to climb down."

"You should get it checked out when we get to the hospital," he says.

"It's nothing," you assure him, though you wouldn't trust your own voice. "I just need a shower."

You pull your eyes away from his, tying your hair back to hide the blood for good measure.

After an hour of uncomfortable silence and avoiding Dean's eyes, he pulls into the emergency room of an ancient-looking, white brick-lain medical center in eastern Chicago.

You and the boys end up in the otherwise empty waiting room, each with a weak Styrofoam cup of coffee in hand, as Charlie gets her arm in a cast.

"You going to tell us what happened?" Dean asks, breaking the silence.

You have been dreading this conversation from the moment they stepped out of your bathroom, not because it is any crazier than they are used to, but because you are not entirely sure how you are alive either. You have an idea, but the details are still foggy.

Still, you decide, you owe them an explanation.

Sighing, you drag your chair so that it's turned around to face the boys and sit down, leaning forward, placing your elbows on your knees for support. You don't realize until then how tired you are.

"A few months ago, I was pulled out of the pit," you begin.

"By who?"

"Crowley."

The shift in their attention is apparent at the mention of a name you know they recognize, and not favorably.

"He told me that he was going to send me back to earth," you continue, "and that I was to find you two, and kill you. Said I was the only one who could get close enough."

Sam furrows his brows and tilts his head slightly in confusion while Dean uncrosses his arms and leans forward, tensing as if he may need to defend himself. You don't have the energy to fight the instinct to lean back when he comes nearer, raising a different glance of suspicion from him.

"I told him he could take his deal and shove it up his ass," you say, trying to change the subject from the eye conversation you were having with Dean. "And he told me that it wasn't a deal, it was an order, and he sent me up anyway. It hurt like hell, worse than the first three Segments combined."

"'Segments'?" Dean asks.

You shoot him a questioning look, wondering how he could not know, then remembering. "Of Hell," you clarify. "The Rack is only the first Segment," you explain. "There are six."

"Like circles?" Sam asks, "in Dante's Inferno."

"Not so much," you say. "More like Hell is one big circle and each soul rotates through the pie slices of the circle, the Segments. Once they reach a sort of equivalent of death, a breaking point, they move onto the next Segment."

"What were they like?" Dean asks, and you can see the flashbacks running through his eyes. "The others?"

You almost tell him no and spare him the stories that will only cause him pain, but you know it would only leave him imagining the worst and decide to recount the memories anyway.

"The second section was the worst," you recollect, "for me, anyway. You're sent back to earth, but not really you, just your spirit, and you're forced to watch everyone you've left behind. The object is that you feel every terrible, gut-wrenching, broken feeling that everyone you love feels. Every scrape and bruise and loss, I felt it."

The gears in their brains turn as you imagine they try to figure out when it was that you were watching, feeling.

"The last thing I remember from that Segment, my breaking point," you try to fill in the blanks, "was the night you tried to kill Lucifer with the Colt. Ellen and Jo... That was real, wasn't it?"

Dean's eyes dart down but Sam's do not leave yours as he nods, giving you the answer you were dreading, but the one you needed, the one you knew.

"The next two segments are pretty biblical," you explain. "The Lake, the 'fiery lake of burning sulfur' – exactly what is sounds like. And the 'blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth' – that's where they sic the hellhounds on you."

Fire reflects underneath your eyelids, screams and low growls echo through your ears, and you use all of your strength to push it back, turning away for a second.

When you look back up at the boys, they are staring at you expectantly.

"Hmm?" you ask, obviously having missed something.

"What happens when you get through all of them?" Sam asks, not like a question, but like he knows the answer.

"You go around the circle again," you answer anyway. "Or at least that's what I've heard. I hadn't gotten past the Furnace yet."

When you glance over at him, Dean is still looking at you like something is on the tip of his tongue, but he can't quite grasp it.

"Anyway, I woke up in the middle of this small town in Illinois," you continue. "Hitchhiked to Chicago, got a job, met Charlie. Never looked back until I heard about a few disappearances in the area. Something about it just didn't seem routine, so I did some research. And now we've got an army of unkillable shape-shifting people-eating monsters trying to take over the world."

The boys both nod in agreement with your frustrated tone.

"Well, I'm going to get a refill," Dean says, coffee cup in hand as he stands. As he walks to the door, he gives you a pointed look, gesturing to Sam, whose head rests in his hands in exhaustion. Talk to him.

You give Dean the slightest of reluctant nods and he leaves, the air becoming thick with tension as soon as the door swings closed behind him.

"Sam," you find yourself saying aloud before you can stop and find that you are at a loss for words.

To your horror, he looks up at you, with tired, unreadable eyes, expecting you to say something.

How could you apologize for something so horrible, for not only leaving him, but for not giving him a fair warning over the course of a year? Would it even be worth it? Would he ever forgive you?

"I..." You take a second to swallow the lump in your throat and blink back the tears that prick your eyes. "You were dead. I did what I had to do – Dean and I both did. And if you died tomorrow, I'd sell my soul a thousand times over, and I won't apologize for it."

You look up at him now, into those eyes that seem to never end, that make you want to laugh and cry and disappear all at once, that know when there is something you need to say and are always there to listen.

"But it never should have gone down that way," you continue, eyes still locked with his. "I should have been straight with you, and we should have figured it out together. And for that, I am sorry."

For what seems like hours, you are left in suspense as you stare into his unreadable eyes, so serious that you can't tell if they are full of anger or understanding.

"Look, (Y/N)," Sam begins, "I was upset with you for a while. I'd thought that if Dean were going to die, at least... You were family – are family. I wasn't prepared to lose you both. But I get why you hid it from me. I would have killed myself trying to get you two out of that deal if I knew."

You cross the space you've made between you two and re-position yourself in the seat next to him.

"You're always going to be a big sister to me, (Y/N)," he continues, craning his neck to meet your eyes again, "and I know you were only doing what you always do, trying to protect me."

Relief washes over you in waves, each one stronger as you realize that his understanding, his forgiveness, is not a dream. Finally, exhausted with nothing more to say, you lean over and rest your still-aching head on his shoulder and feel him lean his head on yours, and you both get a few minutes of rest before Dean walks back through the doors, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand.

Soon after, the door of the exam room creaks open and reveals a tall man in a white lab coat and scrubs leading through the door a relieved-looking Charlie, her arm in a sling and exhaustion on her face.

"Let's get out of here," she says.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

The scent of exhaust fumes clouds the bus station air. Charlie wraps her unbroken arm around your waist while yours rests across her shoulders protectively as you walk to the bus you are both meant to take, the boys following close behind.

Only a few paces from the bus, you break away from each other.

"I left your dumb flask on the backseat, by the way," she calls to Dean. "Worst good-luck charm ever."

She turns around and he hands her her duffel bag.

"So, listen," Sam begins to tell her, "we can't thank you enough."

"Actually, you can," she says. "Never contact me again. Like, ever. Deal?"

She holds out her left hand to Sam, which he shakes, chuckling. "Deal."

"Keep your head down out there, okay?" Dean warns her.

"This ain't the first time I've disappeared," she shrugs. "You think my name is really Charlie Bradbury?"

She turns to you then, or so you see out of the corner of your eye because you haven't taken your eyes off the boys since you turned around. How could you leave them again, after everything you have been through with them? And how could you let them save the world alone again?

They look to you, eyes expectant, and you dart your own eyes down, knowing you've already made a decision. You look back up to your side.

"Charlie," you begin, hearing the guilt in your own voice.

She sighs, nods, and pulls you into a hug. "I know."

For the last precious seconds, you hang onto her, breathing in her orange-shampoo scent over the exhaust fumes.

"You going to be okay?" you ask as you pull away. You know she will be, but you can't tell her you will miss her without the tears that have formed in your eyes springing out and streaming down your cheeks.

They do anyway, when she tells you she loves you, and you can barely choke out the same because of the lump in your throat.

You see that she has tears in her eyes also before she leans in to press her lips to yours for a few short seconds, then pulls away.

"So," she says, turning to address the boys as well, "good luck saving to world. Peace out, bitches."

Your eyes follow her as she hands her bag to the operator and steps onto the bus. You squint to see her silhouette through the tinted windows, but lose her as soon as she turns to sit down.

"She's kind of like the little sister I never wanted," Dean comments.

Sam chuckles lightly, but it soon fades. "You okay, (Y/N)?" he asks.

"Fine," you say quickly, wiping the tears from your cheeks before turning back to them.

They look like they don't really believe you, but they both play along.

"Then, we have to talk," Sam says, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket as they always do when he has something difficult to say. "Bobby..."

"I know," you say, and he looks relieved, but sympathetic. "He's holding onto that flask, isn't he?"

They nod.

"What are we going to do about him?"

Sam sighs. "We can't let him stay like this," he speculates. "What happened in that lobby..."

"If I had a free shot," Dean argues, "I'd have bitch-slapped the hell out of Dick."

"Yeah," Sam says, "but, I mean, Charlie got her freaking arm broken."

"He didn't mean to do it," Dean insists.

"Exactly. He's not in control, not about Dick," Sam remarks. "That was vengeful spirit crap."

"I know," Dean concedes. "But it's still Bobby." He looks to you for support.

You have to clear your throat to get the words out. "Sam's right, Dean," you sigh. "You know I love him, but if we don't stop him, someone's going to get hurt, and some other hunter's going to come along and do it."

"I know," he repeats, trying to cover up the sadness in his eyes with focus. "Look, let's just figure out what that thing we stole is, and then we'll figure out what the hell to do with Bobby."

With that and a shrug, he brushes past you and Sam to the parking lot, leaving the two of you to give each other a look, and then to follow him to the car.

[rainygalaxynerd]

Brave New World - Chapter 53

Warnings: None I can think of

Summary: Emotions running high.

Word count: App. 2000

This is part of a chapter story. Link to mobile friendly master list here.

A/N: I’m sorry I still have to fight myself so hard to write. I think I’m terrified to actually finish. I’m forcing myself to put what I have out each Monday until we get to the finish line but it might suck bad. Once it’s all done, I’ll have to go back and revise these final chapters.

Tagging: @twenty-onepages  @jotink78 @winchesterprincessbride @fangirling-instead-of-working @kbrand0 @jencharlan @mrsjohnsmith @deandoesthingstome @littlegreenplasticsoldier @vibou25

Caitlin had checked Sam’s vitals while Bobby spoke. The man might be dead but she agreed with his prediction - Sam would probably wake up, nothing seemed to be physically wrong, at least. Now, she went to Dean’s side and gently took his hand. She looked at Bobby expectantly. “How?”

“He used blood and power of will and prayer, I think. I’m not sure how it works or how the fuck he even thought of it.” Bobby eyed Sam’s unconscious form. “Now it’s bound to him. And he to it.”

Chapter 53 - Absolution

Cas was still frozen on the floor, face hidden. Charlie reluctantly crossed the floor to his side, not bothering to actually stand up.

“What’s wrong?” She tried to pry his hands from his face and he twisted away from her. “Stop that. Are you hurt?”

“Hurt. So much hurt. I should not be here. Why? Why restore me this time? This is my punishment. No amount of suffering will ever right the wrongs I’ve done.” Cas folded even further in on himself. “His words. They are burning me,” he whispered into his rumpled coat.

Charlie stared at him, mouth slightly open. “Did you hit your head?” She looked around and noticed Caitlin and Dean talking to the transparent dude that had shown up and scared the crap out of her. As if the angel in front of her and his teleporting abilities wasn’t freaking her the fuck out already. “Doc! Caitlin! A little help, please?”

Caitlin turned to Charlie’s voice and then toward the last remaining lightbulb above her. It was off and doing nothing as it should be. She shrugged, squeezed Dean’s hand once and went over to Charlie and Cas. “I’m not sure I can help him, Charlie. I don’t know anything about angels.” She knelt next across from Charlie and placed a gentle hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Cas, Castiel, hey. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I am flawed. Undeserving. I belong in the pit.” Cas’ gravelly voice came out hollow and flat.

Caitlin considered him for a moment. Then she stood and went to Dean’s side. Bobby was gone again and Dean was brushing a lock of Sam’s hair away from his closed eyes. “Dean.”

Dean showed no sign of having heard her.

Caitlin stroked her fingers lightly over his stubbled jaw. “Dean. Let him sleep. I could really use your help real quick.”

Dean finally looked at her, his eyes glistening and his mouth and chin wobbly. A sob broke ripped out of his throat and he wiped his eyes with thumb and index finger, shaking his head reflexively. When he looked at her again, his words came out scratchy and broken. “I just had him back. I’m s’posed to look after him, Caitie. Now he’s gone again. Fuck, I just want my brother.”

Caitlin wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a fierce hug. He was shaking, breaths hitching as he clung to her. “He’s going to be fine. We’ll help him. Right now, he just needs a little rest, okay?”

Dean nodded against the crook of her neck. “Okay,” he mumbled.

“I’ve got you,” Caitlin murmured. “You’re not alone. We’ll do whatever it takes, right?”

Dean stiffened in her arms. He pulled away slowly, his movements jerky with tension. “Right. Yeah, sure.” He sounded sincere but didn’t meet her eyes. He rolled his shoulders a couple of times, kept his gaze on the steady rising and falling of Sam’s chest for long seconds, before meeting Caitlin’s eyes.

Caitlin blinked in surprise. Dean’s expression was shuttered, cold. Determined.

“You wanted my help?”

Caitlin blinked again. She swallowed against a lump in her throat and nodded. “It’s Cas. He’s kind of hysterical. He said something yesterday about letting you down. Maybe you can get through to him.”

Dean followed her gaze to the corner where Cas huddled, Charlie hunched over him but completely ignored. He gave Caitlin a curt nod and went to nudge Carlie out of the way. He managed to find enough room to sit down next to Cas, shoulder to shoulder. He elbowed Cas in the ribs, hard. “Cas. What’s up.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah, man, it’s me. You wanna tell me what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

Cas’ hands flew from his face his eyes round with astonishment. “What makes you think I am wearing panties? I am wearing boxer shorts and they are not twisted. They are snug and comfortable.”

Dean’s eyes widened in a comical response to Castiel’s. His mouth opened, then closed again, then opened. Finally, he started laughing so hard he shook with it. He threw his head back against the wall and snorted, practically howled and snorted again. Eventually, his outburst quieted down into fits of giggles and snickering.

Cas regarded him impassively until Dean seemed to be back in control of himself. “Did I say something funny?”

“Na, man. You were just… being excessively you. Did I mention how much I fucking missed you after… all these months?”

“You should hate me. Dean, I betrayed you. I… I hurt Sam, I hurt innocent people. I… I killed angels. So many.”

“I don’t hate you. I’ve been really angry and maybe, maybe I still am, some of the time. But I get it, Cas. I know you felt like you had no other choice. I know you didn’t take any joy from it and I know you meant to fix things again right after. What happened after the ritual… that wasn’t really you. I don’t blame you for those things and neither should you.”

“Why not? I performed the ritual, I consumed all the souls of Purgatory, knowing it was risky. Sure, I was desperate to win the war against Raphael and keep him from restarting the Apocalypse, but you were right then. You were my friends. I should have come to you for help instead of going behind your backs.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson. Can we skip this blame-game, Cas? I can play on my own well enough.”

“I am sorry. I was overwhelmed. The sense of my Father is very strong with the tablet here.”

“Yeah, about that. Did you understand what Sam said before he passed out?”

Cas closed his eyes and pinched his lips. “They were for me. He said: Forget, Castiel. Forget your sins, committed in the name of righteous fury, of justice, sins of terror and spilled blood. Forget.”

“God spoke through Sammy?” Dean’s eyes bulged and he clenched his fists. Soulless he was bad. Lucifer riding shotgun was scary. Speaking God’s words? Fuck.

Cas shook his head slightly. “It is complicated. The tablet is meant to enhance the powers of a true prophet. Its knowledge is meant to be gleaned from years of hard study combined with the gift of God’s good will. Sam was not born a prophet and he somehow fused the essence of the tablet with his own soul. The words may have been his own, spoken with conviction enough to activate the tablet or they may have been channeled through him because of the tablet’s connection to God.”

“That was a lot of words just to say we’re screwed. We gotta undo whatever Sam did.”

“Ag.” The word echoed through the room, barely louder than a whisper but somehow deafening, anyway.

Everyone whipped around to watch Sam rise from the bed. His eyes were shining with white light, his movements mechanical. “Iadnahmad - abaramig”

“Sam,” Cas spoke firmly. “We will find another way to fight. This is not the way.”

The light grew stronger, blinding. “Darbeis, nocore.”

All color drained from Castiel’s face. “Yes, Father.”

“Ag. Sam. Bial de Yahve.” The light faded from Sam’s eyes and his voice came out less formidable. “I am my own person, still.” Sam blinked and looked around. “Guys. What’s going on?”

Dean grabbed Sam’s face between his hands, staring him down. “You’re an idiot, that’s what’s going on. The hell were you thinking, playing around with that thing?” He pointed to the tablet in Sam’s left hand.

Sam’s forehead creased. “I can’t hear you.”

Dean gaped at him and let go. “Don’t start, bitch. I’m telling you, bleeding on powerful objects is on the shitlist from now on.”

Sam shook his head as if clearing it. “Dean, I can see your mouth moving but I can’t hear anything. Tell me you’re messing with me. Please?”

Dean spun and slammed his fist into the nearest wall, putting a substantial dent in the plaster. “God dammit, Sammy.”

Caitlin wordlessly handed him the mandatory motel notepad and pen.

Dean’s shoulders slumped and he wrote with fast, jerky movements.

DID YOU KNOW?

He held the paper up for Sam to read.

Sam frowned. “Know what, Dean?”

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN

Sam shook his head. “It was sort of a spur of the moment thing. I’m not sure why I even thought to do it, really. It just popped into my head and I figured it couldn’t hurt to try.” Sam looked even more confused at his own words. “That’s not my usual MO, is it?”

“Hell no,” Dean said before remembering himself and shaking his head.

Sam simply shrugged. “Well, I know what to do about the Leviathans now. They’ll be easy to deal with if they’re without leadership. Let’s take Dick Roman down and we can worry about the rest later.”

Dean’s eyes widened. He pursed his lips and nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Later, Samantha. Numbskull. Geekboy. You sure about that?”

Sam pinched his lips together and tilted his head. “If you think I don’t know when you’re calling me derogatory names just from looking at you, you’re not as smart as I thought.”

Dean answered him with a lopsided smirk and a wink. Then he wrote another question.

HOW DO WE SQUASH THE DICK SMART-ASS?

Sam opened his mouth to answer but stopped when Dean’s head whipped around at the sound of a knock on the door.

Charlie was about to open when Dean stopped her. “Wait.” He pulled his gun out and leaned against the wall next to the door. “Who’s there,” he shouted.

“Morgan. Got a favor to ask.”

Dean nodded at Charlie who opened the door. When Morgan didn’t immediately enter, Dean stepped forward, gun cocked and ready. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of a short, curvy blonde next to Morgan, gaping up at him with horror.

“Paranoid much?” Morgan sighed.

“Keeps me alive. Wash up, both of you.”

Caitlin appeared behind Dean and tossed a small container with soap to Morgan.

Morgan promptly rubbed some soap on his hands before turning to the blonde. “I’ll explain later, Penny. Just put this on and he’ll put the gun away, okay.”

Garcia was still staring at Dean. “What’s Agent Smith doing here?” she asked in a small voice.

Morgan frowned. “That’s Dean Winchester.”

Garcia shook her head violently. “No. That’s Agent Smith, the guy who’s picture has replaced Winchester’s. You said you’d give me answers, Derek. This is not answers.”

Looking mystified, Morgan simply smeared some soap on Garcia’s wrist.

When nothing happened, Dean put the safety back on and tucked his gun away. “Sorry. Can’t be too careful. What did you want from us? We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

“Oh. Well, Garcia here, she helped me a lot when Caitlin went missing at first. And with all the stuff that you’ve been messing around with these past few days, she felt she needed to know what was going on. I can’t say that I blame her.”

“So what, you just thought you’d bring another FBI agent to our doorstep and trust us to be convincing?” Dean scowled.

“I told her the basics. But I can’t explain why she’s apparently seeing someone else when you look perfectly normal to me - and thanks for nearly giving me a heart attack, just walking into the interview yesterday, by the way. So yeah, I was hoping you’d help me with that one before she tattles that someone hacked into the CIA’s files. And since when did Sam start a cyber crime career?”

Dean ran a hand over his eyes tiredly. “Fuck it. Fuck my life. Fuck me for sounding like an emo goth kid. Just get in, you two.” He stepped aside and motioned for Morgan and Garcia to enter.

Notes:

The Enochian words are: Ag = No Iadnahmad - abaramig = knowledge - preparation (roughly translated) Darbeis, nocore = Obey, servant (roughly translated) Bial de Yahve = Voice of God (roughly translated)