#but i was thinking she was kidnapped by something and dean has come to the rescue yaaayyy

[impalakiing]

@auburniivenus | starter call.

" --It's alright, it's alright." Dean was quick to say, hands held up in front of him to show he meant NO HARM. In fact, he'd come here to help. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna help you get out of here, okay? You have to trust me." He knew he was nothing but a stranger to the girl & trusting strangers wasn't exactly easy but... She would have to trust him if she wanted to get out of here ALIVE & WELL.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

No Exit | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: Jo and reader are dicks to each other, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5754

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You and the Winchester boys had been hunkered down in the rooms Ellen told you about the first time she met you for a few days now. You were grateful for her generosity while you and the brothers tried to pin down your next move with the demon or another hunt, but you were going stir crazy. You sat on the hood of the Impala under the shade of a tree pouring through newspapers. Sam and Dean approached you after a few hours of you researching.

“What are you doing to my baby?” Dean asked you.

“Dee, she’s fine, we’re bonding,” you said, tapping the spot next to you on the hood. “Nothing’s dented or broken; promise.”

He gave you a skeptical look but said nothing else.

“ ‘Sides, I was getting ready to come get you anyway,” you said, hopping down. “I think I got something. Los Angeles, California.”

“What’s in L.A.?” Sam asked.

“Young girl's been kidnapped by an evil cult,” you smirked.

“Yeah? Girl got a name?” 

“Katie Holmes.”

Dean chuckled, and a grin spread across your face. 

“Seriously, though, it’s like all things supernatural disappeared off the face of the earth,” you continued.

Dean turned his head toward the Roadhouse at the sound of a glass breaking. “Ooh, catfight.”

You grimaced and followed the boys into the bar cautiously. Ellen and Jo were arguing loudly about Jo wanting to go off and Ellen wanting her to stay at the Roadhouse or go back to school. She stopped shouting when she noticed you. “Guys, bad time.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Sam said. The three of you turned to leave.

Dean got one more quip in, saying, “Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway.”

“Funny, let’s go,” you deadpanned, grabbing his jacket lightly and pulling him to the door.

“Wait. I wanna know what they think about this,” Jo said.

At the sound of the creaking front door, you turned to see a family with two kids under three walking in wearing bright yellow “Nebraska is for Lovers” t-shirts.

Ellen continued to yell despite the customers that had entered. “I don't care what they think!”

The father of the two young kids cut Ellen off. “Are you guys open?”

Jo yelled, “No!” and her mother yelled, “Yes!”

The dad grimaced and shrank away. “We’ll just… check out the Arby’s down the road.”

The phone rang as the family left, and Ellen went to answer it. Jo turned to you and the brothers; her gaze mostly focused on Dean, per usual. 

“Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment.” She shoved a file at Dean. Dean looked down at it strangely.  “Take it, it won't bite,” she said.

“No, but your mom might,” he responded.

Jo’s lips pinched, still holding out the folder. He took it reluctantly as Jo continued explaining. “And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or—”

Dean flipped through it and cut her off. “Who put this together? Ash?"

Jo smiled proudly. “I did it myself.”

Dean hummed, impressed, and you took the folder from him. You flipped through it, secretly hoping to find holes in it somewhere, but you couldn’t at first glance. You were impressed, too, much to your chagrin.

“I gotta admit. We hit the road for a lot less,” Sam added.

“Good. You like the case so much, you take it,” Ellen stated.

“Mom!”

“Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. And I won't lose you too. I just won't.”

Your gaze softened as you took in Ellen’s grief-stricken features. You could completely empathize with how that felt. And so, you and the brothers set off. 

***

“I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case,” Sam said as the three of you stalked around the deceased’s apartment.

“I don’t,” you said. “Her mom’s only trying to protect her.”

“Exactly. Maybe she put together a good file,” Dean added, “but could you see her out here working one of these things? I don't think so.”

You pulled out your EMF meter and continued walking around the very nice apartment. “What I wouldn’t give to have one of these,” you muttered. “You getting anything?”

“No, not yet,” replied Sam. Just as he spoke, you heard his meter beeping. He leaned over to something in front of him, and you walked over.

“What's that?” you asked.

“What?” Dean came up behind you as Sam reached down to the lightswitch and lightly touched it.

“Holy crap,” the younger Winchester said.

Dean reached forward, too. “That's ectoplasm. Well, Sam, I think I know what we're dealing with here. It's the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.”

You snickered. “Can we get through one hunt without a Ghostbusters reference, please?”

“Never.”

“Guys, focus, please,” Sam deadpanned. “I've only seen this stuff, like, twice. I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit.”

“Alright, let's find this badass before he snags any more girls,” Dean said. You followed him out of the apartment and immediately had to cling to a wall to avoid being seen by the approaching voices. Your face fell when you realized one of the voices was Jo’s.

“It is so spacious.” Her voice was getting closer. “You know, my friend told me I absolutely have to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place.”

Dean stepped out suddenly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“There you are, honey,” Jo grinned, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist. You could’ve killed her.  “This is my boyfriend Dean, and his buddies, Sam and (Y/N).”

“Good to meetcha,” the landlord said. “Quite a gal you've got here.”

Dean smacked her ass roughly, trying to convey his frustration to her. “Oh yeah, she's a pistol.”

“So, did you already check out that apartment? The one for rent,” Jo asked Dean.

“Yeah. Yes. Loved it. Heh. Great flow.”

“How'd you get in?” the landlord asked.

Dean swallowed harshly. “It was open.”

“Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?” Jo grinned back at the landlord.

“Oh, about a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stuck me for the rent.”

“Well. Her loss, our gain! 'Cause if Dean-o loves it, it's good enough for me.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Dean gritted through his teeth, smacking her again.

Jo pulled out a wad of cash. “We’ll take it.”

The landlord’s eyes widened, and he immediately brought you back to the front office to get a key.

***

You paced around the lovely apartment furiously at Jo re-hijacking the hunt you’d hijacked from her. 

“I’ll flip you for the sofa,” she said to you.

“Does your mom even know you’re here?” you asked.

“Told her I was going to Vegas.”

You scoffed. “She’s not stupid, She’s not gonna buy that.”

“I'm not an idiot,” Jo challenged. “I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos.”

Dean took your humorless laugh as an opportunity to jump in before you got any uglier. “You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. Shouldn't be here, either.”

“Well, I am,” she said. “So untwist your boxers and deal with it.”

“Where'd you get all that money from, anyways?” Sam questioned.

She gave a prideful smile. “Working. At the Roadhouse.”

“Hunters don’t tip that well,” Dean replied.

“Well, they aren't that good at poker, either,” she smirked.

‘Take away her immaturity, inexperience, rashness, and massive crush on Dean, I probably could be friends with her,’ you thought.

Dean’s cell phone rang. “Yeah?” He answered, still glaring at Jo. “Oh, hi, Ellen.” Dean and Jo had a furious muttered argument before he said, “I haven’t seen her” back into the phone. “Yeah, I'm sure… Absolutely.” Dean hung up, and Jo grinned cheerfully.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” you hissed at Dean. “Ellen’s gonna murder us.”

“Seriously?” Jo folded her arms at you. “You’re scared of my mom?”

“No,” you spat back. “I just don’t wanna babysit the whole time I’m trying to hunt.”

“(Y/N), stop it,” Sam warned.

“Me? This chick has a death wish, and I need to ‘stop it’?” you snarked. “I’m going to get some air.” You stomped out of the room, Dean trailing behind you.

“(Y/N), where are you going?” he asked.

“Away,” you snorted. “She’s pissing me off. I’m not hunting with her.”

He grabbed your arm. “I’m not happy, either, but what’s this really about?”

You felt caught. “What?”

“You heard me. What’s goin’ on? You’re normally the one who has to talk me off the ledge. Not the other way around,” he said.

You lowered your voice. “I don’t trust her,” you began. “I don’t trust her to have any of our backs. All she’s tried to do thus far is get in your pants and act like an immature brat.

"She has potential, sure, and she’s smart, but she’s not one of us. And I have no idea what her skillset is. She pointed a rifle at you one time; we’ve never seen her use one. She could be an awful shot. And she has no idea how to actually kill anything. She’s, what, twenty-one, twenty-two? She didn’t grow up hunting. She has no experience.

"She doesn’t belong here. And you not telling Ellen she’s here was a huge mistake. Because now, she’s our responsibility. And like I said, I’m not babysitting. If it’s between you or Sam, and her, I’m saving you and Sam every time.”

Dean smirked down at you.

“What?” you hissed.

“You’re jealous,” he said simply.

“Seriously? Did you hear anything else I said?” You crossed your arms and quirked a brow.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I did, and I agree. I’ll watch her if you’ll watch Sam, okay? No blood on your hands if something happens to her,” he replied.

You shook your head. “No, Dean, I don’t like that, either—”

Dean smirked down at you. “What, don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I do,” you replied. “I don’t trust her.”

He chuckled. “I think you said that already.”

“Just—” you huffed. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Dean snorted. “C’mon, it’s me we’re talking about. I’ll be fine. Will you come back and be civil now?” he asked.

“No promises.”

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this, then.” He raised his pinky at you, and you rolled your eyes.

“I can’t make a pinky promise I can’t keep,” you replied.

“That’s the point. You have to, so I know you’ll be civil.” Dean looked down at you, a challenge in his eyes and a smile plastered on his face.

“But—” you tried.

“No.”

“Dean,” you groaned but locked pinkies with him nonetheless.

“See, was that so hard?” he smirked down at you.

“You can’t use my own thing against me,” you said as you headed back to the apartment. “That’s against the rules of pinky promises.”

“Oh, there’s rules now?” Dean questioned playfully.

“There are when I say there are,” you responded flippantly, opening the door to the apartment.

Jo and Sam turned to face you, and you suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Look, Jo—” you started.

“Save it. It’s fine,” she replied.

“Well, okay, then,” you mumbled, softly enough that only Dean could hear you mocking her. 

Dean gave you a warning look. “(Y/N).”

“I know, I know.”

***

You sat at the table with your laptop next to Sam as Dean paced around the room. Jo had been flipping her little knife around for the last thirty minutes while she looked over the blueprints for the apartment.

“This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago,” she explained.

“Yeah? What was here before 1924?” Dean questioned.

“Nothing. Empty field.”

“So, most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell,” Sam added.

Jo shook her head. “I already checked. In the past eighty-two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor.” She looked up to Dean. “Would you sit down, please?”

Dean sat hesitantly at the head of the table, eyeing Jo guardedly. “So, have you checked police reports, county death records—”

“Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing,” she said.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” Dean replied. “Could you put the knife down?”

She complied, eyeing him angrily. He glared back.

Sam huffed. “Okay! So, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it.”

“Meh, unless somebody’s got a relic from an Egyptian tomb, I’m not sure a cursed object has the kind of spirit power necessary to make ectoplasm,” you said. 

Jo completely ignored you. “Well, we've got to scan the whole building. Everywhere we can get to, right?”

“Right. So. You and me, we'll take the top two floors,” Dean said firmly. “Sam and (Y/N)’ll take the bottom two.”

“We'd move faster if we split up,” the blonde tried.

“Oh, this isn't negotiable,” Dean responded. 

***

You and Sam returned to the room way sooner than Dean and Jo did. The two of you found nothing of particular interest, unfortunately, and opted to just sprawl out on the couch and floor watching a rerun of Seinfeld. 

“I just wanted to tell you,” Sam began, “I don’t think you’re wrong about Jo. Just… tone it down a bit. My brother’s dickish enough to her.”

You sighed. “Dean made me pinky promise I would be civil, so you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

He scoffed. “My brother made you pinky promise?”

You giggled. “I introduced him to the concept.”

“What have you done to him?” Sam chuckled sarcastically. 

You shook your head. “I have no idea. I don’t know what he’s doing to me, either.”

Sam paused. “Have you… talked about it at all?”

You nodded your head from side to side as if to say, “sorta.” “I just don’t think now’s the right time. I mean, after your dad, I don’t wanna take advantage of that or him to use me as a distraction.”

He nodded in understanding. “I get it. But… I also don’t think Dean would use you.”

You shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.” You paused. “How are you holding up, by the way? We haven’t had much of an opportunity to hang out one-on-one recently.”

“Honestly? Not great,” he sighed. “I’m scared, man. I don’t know what’s happening or how to stop it. And I think my dad died thinking I hate him.” Tears began to well in his eyes. “I never should’ve said those things to him.”

You got up from the floor and went to sit next to him. You reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing firmly. “If it helps at all, I think my dad died thinking the same. And that feeling goes away after a while. I think both our dads knew that despite our many, many, many issues with each other, the bottom line is, we loved each other a lot.”

He squeezed your hand back and looked at you with sad, puppy-dog eyes. “I hope you’re right.”

The door opened to reveal Dean and Jo bickering and Dean’s fist clenched around a clump of blonde hair with skin attached to it. 

You giggled. “What, you hate each other that much that you ripped a piece of Jo’s hair out?”

Dean deadpanned, “No, smartass. We found this in a vent.”

Your stomach dropped. “Oh. Gross.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dean grumbled. He opened the trash can in the room and dumped it inside.

“Alright, it’s getting late,” Jo stated. “Who’s sleeping where? There’s four of us, two beds, and a couch.”

“(Y/N) and I’ll take a bed,” Dean said casually almost immediately. “Sam’ll take the other. Jo, you got the couch.”

The three of you were stunned at Dean and his adamancy. 

Oh-kay,” Jo said, still shocked. 

“C’mon,” Dean said, jerking his head toward one of the rooms. He picked up your duffel bags and headed off.

You followed behind, saying “Goodnight, guys,” and shut the door behind you. You tapped the sides of your thighs with your palms as you stayed firmly planted by the door.

Dean seemed to feel a little awkward, too, and blew out a breath. “Was this… uh, okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah! Yeah. Sure. Why not? We’re adults. We’re friends. We can share a bed. No big.”

He chuckled. “You sure? You ramble when you’re nervous.”

“Nervous?” you laughed awkwardly. “Why would I be nervous?” He raised a brow at you, and you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’ve just… I’ve never… Hunting’s lonely. Even when I did hook up, I’d leave before I fell asleep.”

Dean seemed stunned. “Really? Why?”

“I don’t know, it just… felt too intimate, I guess? And I’ve never had anybody I seriously cared about that I’d want to experience that with,” you explained, sitting on the foot of the bed and kicking off your shoes.

His voice quieted considerably. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

You nodded. He seemed to understand what that meant, though both of you refused to talk about it. 

Dean showered, as did you, and then you climbed into bed next to one another. The two of you seemed to have scooted to the far edges of the bed, facing away from each other. After several minutes in silence, Dean spoke up.

“(Y/N)?” he murmured.

“Yeah?” 

“C’mere.” 

You could feel yourself getting flustered as you shuffled over to Dean, who now laid in the center of the bed. He opened his arms and wrapped them around you, allowing you to lay on his chest. You rested your hand on his stomach, and he took in a sharp breath.

“Should’ve cleaned the pipes,” he muttered.

You scoffed. “Perv,” and moved your arm across his stomach completely. You settled into him and drifted off to the most peaceful sleep you’d had in a while.

***

The next time you awoke, you felt arms around you, and you tensed. It took you a second to remember Dean was sleeping soundly next to you. His arms held tighter when he felt you shift, and you turned your face toward his. You smiled sadly at his beautiful, peaceful face, knowing this hunt would be the only time for quite a while that you’d get to wake up to him. You closed your eyes and nuzzled back into him, only to feel him groan above you; beginning to awaken.

“Morning,” he said. His sleepy voice was incredibly attractive. His arms didn’t move from around you.

A smile spread across your face. “G’morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Great, actually,” he admitted. He almost looked sad and regretful as he looked down at you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“You’re confusing me again,” Dean said.

You looked away from him, understanding. Your face fell, too. “You’re confusing me, too.”

“I want to… be more to you so bad,” he began, “but I can’t. I’m tired, (Y/N). I’m so fucking tired. I’m tired of this job, I’m tired of dealing with my dad, I’m tired of… all of it.”

“I know,” you said. “So, what do you want us to do? Do you— Do you want me to leave?”

“No, god, no,” he said quickly. “I don’t know what I want.”

You snorted. “Well, what is it you don’t want? Why don’t we start there?”

He considered for a moment. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You won’t,” you immediately said.

“Will you let me finish?”

“Sorry.”

He sighed. “I don’t wanna name and claim anything right now. I don’t wanna be just your best friend, but I also— I don’t think I can—” Dean paused and took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t be able to give you what I want to give you right now. I can’t be what you deserve.”

“Dean,” you said. “This is a very low-pressure situation. I know you and I can’t go there right now. I know that. And… I want to, too. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about… anybody else.” You swallowed tensely, not sure if you’d said too much. “I— I want you to heal. And I know you’re tired. And I know it’s awful. And I hope that one day, I can make things better for you. But I also know that you have to fix you first. But until then, we can just be us. I won’t initiate anything. I need you to come to me when you’re ready. And until then, we’ll just be you and me.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

You smiled softly. “Always.”

***

After you and Dean talked things over a bit, you learned from Sam that another girl had died. Dean was off to investigate the room while you, Sam, and Jo researched. Jo wouldn’t look at you with anything but disgust after you spent the night with Dean. Her schoolgirl-ish crush was beginning to really just annoy you more than make you jealous.

Dean burst through the door. “Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Boyfriend reported her missing around dawn.”

“And her apartment?” Jo questioned.

“Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm, too.”

“Well, between that and that tuft of hair, I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls,” Sam added.

“But who is it? Building's history is totally clean,” Dean reminded you.

There were various pictures and blueprints from Jo’s file spread across the table between you, Sam, and Jo. You picked up a picture of the field where the apartments now stood. Next to it was a building with bars on its windows. “Check this out. We’re next door to a prison.” 

“Nice going, (Y/N),” Sam grinned. 

Jo pulled out her phone. “I’ll call Ash—”

“No,” you shook your head, standing. “Let me figure this one out. Something about this is sounding really familiar to me, and it’s gonna bother me if I’m not the one to nail it down.”

“And what a shame that would be,” Jo snarked.

You glared at her as you continued to pace around the room. “Blonde hair, in the walls, prison, field, Philadelphia…” you murmured to yourself. You repeated it over and over to yourself until something struck you. “H. H. Holmes,” you breathed. “Holy shit.”

“What? What about him?” Sam questioned, straightening in his seat.

“That was his whole thing! He was really, and I mean, really into blondes— though, he’d kill just about anybody— had his whole ‘murder castle’ thing in Chicago, and the feds tracked him all the way to Boston. They brought him back to Philly, and he was hanged. Hence, field. Fields next to old prisons were almost always used for hangings,” you explained.

“What do you mean, ‘murder castle’?” Jo questioned. “And how do you know all this?”

“I like true crime,” you shrugged. “He built all these fake walls, fake hallways; his place was a fucking maze. Acid vats, trap doors, quicklime pits all up in his basement— although most of that was probably sensationalized— but anyway, this guy was a complete freak. ‘Multi-murderer’ was first used to describe him before they knew what serial killers were. He confessed to twenty-seven murders, but he probably killed over a hundred. He, uh, he used chloroform to kill his victims.”

Dean nodded, “Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night.”

“At his place,” you continued, “cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blonde hair.”

Dean snickered at Jo. “Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em.”

“Well, we just find the bones, salt 'em and burn 'em, right?” she said, anxiously.

“Nope. His body’s in town encased in a couple tons of concrete,” you responded.

“What, why?” she asked.

“Didn’t want anybody fuckin’ with his corpse. ‘Cause, y’know, that’s what he did,” you cringed. 

“Wait, (Y/N), that means Teresa could still be alive. Inside the walls,” Sam added.

You nodded. “Yeah. Poor girl.”

“We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We've got to smash these walls; anywhere thick enough to hide a girl,” Dean barked out, hurriedly moving around the apartment.

***

You went with Sam, and Dean went with Jo as he promised you he would. Sam couldn’t get too far into the crawl-spaces of the walls, and you insisted on pressing forward. If you could get through, then the space was big enough to hide a girl. 

“(Y/N), holler if you need, okay?” Sam called to you.

“I’m good, dude, I promise. But you do the same.” You continued to wriggle through winding, claustrophobia-inducing corridors till you came face to face with the man himself; H. H. Holmes. Although, this version of the famed serial killer was a lot more gray, decayed, and gaunt than the one you’d seen in pictures. You screamed, “Sam!” before the world went dark.

***

You next awoke in a box that eerily mirrored a coffin; it was made of wood and just big enough for you to lay down in. You pointed your flashlight up at the ceiling to see long, deep, bloodied gashes in the wood; presumably nail marks. You huffed out a shaky breath, collecting yourself, when you noticed a slit in the wood to your right. A noise startled your already shaken mind, and you heard Jo say, “Hello?” You refused to talk, worried that it would upset Holmes even more.

You heard another woman’s voice coming from a different part of the room. “Is- Is anybody there?”

Jo continued talking. “Your name's Teresa? This won't make you feel better, but I'm here to rescue you.”

“Oh, god. He's out there; he's gonna kill us!” Teresa cried.

“No, he won't. We're getting out,” Jo insisted. “My friends are looking for us; they'll find us.”

Footsteps fell eerily nearby, and you could vaguely make out something approaching you.

“Oh, god, he's here!” Teresa sobbed.

“Shh! Just be quiet!” Jo scolded.

‘So much for being quiet, Jo,’ you thought. The next thing you heard was Jo screaming in pain, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from calling out to her.

You took a knife out of your belt and began hacking at the wall. You kicked with all your might until you finally started to break through a little. Suddenly, a man’s mouth appeared at the opening you were making in the wood. 

“You're so pretty. So beautiful,” the spirit cooed, reaching in your cell to stroke your cheek. You cringed and turned away, groaning in disgust. You turned back and stabbed it with your knife, the spirit crying out before disappearing again. You went back to kicking and hacking at the door with even more force than before. At long last, the paneling came loose, and you laughed in relief. You pried the rest of the paneling away from the wall and rolled out onto the floor, catching yourself before you toppled over completely. When you stood and dusted off your hands, Holmes appeared behind you and clasped a hand over your mouth. You kicked and struggled against him, screaming behind his hand muffling you. You wrestled with him a bit more before the spirit suddenly let you go. He disappeared completely when you heard a gunshot go off.

“(Y/N)!” Dean ran into the room, holding a shotgun.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Holy shit, I’m so happy to see you.” You ran to him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Um, little help, here!” Jo said from her box. 

You ran to the wall next to her and picked up a crowbar lying nearby. You began prying the cell open, groaning strenuously as you did so. When it finally released, you helped Jo down. “You okay?” you asked her.

“Been better. Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back,” she answered.

“I’m not leaving here just yet,” you said.

“(Y/N), no—” Dean protested firmly. He seemed to understand what you were doing.

“What other plan do you have, Dean?” “Wait, what’s going on here?” Jo questioned.

“(Y/N)’s gonna use herself as bait,” he explained. 

“What, would you rather Jo be bait? I don’t think so,” you said flippantly. “Now, get them out of here.” You gestured to Sam to help a frightened Teresa and Jo out of the room. 

***

You sat in the center of the room completely unmoving. You sat cross-legged, breathing evenly. You’d learned long ago how to steel yourself to these situations. You grinned slightly when Holmes began to approach you. When he got very close, Dean yelled, “Now!” and Sam and Dean began shooting the bags of salt you’d strung up to the ceiling to create a perfect circle of salt around the spirit. You ran out of the circle, leaving Holmes trapped inside. He wailed and growled at you, running around the salt circle pathetically.

“Scream all you want, you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!” you laughed coldly.

You and the brothers climbed back up out of the sewer and closed the grate, fully silencing Holmes’ howls.

***

“So? This job as glamorous as you thought it would be?” Sam asked Jo as the three of you stood over the top of the closed sewer..

“Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Sure. But that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?” Jo replied.

You nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

“Hey, what if somebody finds that sewer down there, or a storm washes the salt away?” she questioned.

Sam chuckled. “Both very fine points. Which is why we're waiting here.”

“For what?”

As if on cue, you heard the beeping of a large truck backing up. You grinned over your shoulder at Dean backing up the cement truck he’d stolen, and motioned for him to stop when the spout lined up over the sewer’s entrance.

Dean got out of the cab and came to stand next to you.

“You ripped off a cement truck?” Jo scoffed.

“We’ll give it back,” you shrugged. You turned a lever on the side of the truck and watched the cement pour down into the entrance. 

“Well, that oughta keep him down there till hell freezes over,” Dean grinned.

***

As you and the brothers were heading out with Jo in tow, Ellen appeared at the entrance of the apartments, intense anger bubbling just under the surface. You and the boys cringed at the sight of her.

“Mom—” Jo began.

“Not now.”

She forced the five of you to ride back to the Roadhouse in complete silence. Ellen sat in the front seat, staring blankly ahead, and you were sandwiched between Jo and Sam in the back.

Dean chuckled awkwardly. “Boy, you– you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?”

“You told her?!” you couldn’t help but blurt out.

Ellen scowled at you in the rearview mirror. You shrunk under her gaze. 

“How about we listen to some music?” Dean flicked the radio on. Ellen immediately reached forward and flicked the radio off.

You looked up to Dean, who looked back to you.

“This is gonna be a long drive,” he muttered.

***

Ellen dragged her daughter into the Roadhouse by her elbow, and you and the brothers followed closely.

“Ellen? This is my fault. Okay?” Dean tried. “I lied to you and I'm sorry. But Jo did good out there. I think her dad would be proud.”

Ellen whipped around, angrily commanding, “Don't you dare say that. Not you. I need a moment with my daughter. Alone.”

The three of you left and loitered around in silence for the next few minutes. Jo stormed out of the Roadhouse soon after, tossing a glance to Dean to incentivize him to follow her.

“That bad, huh?” he asked as he walked after her.

“Not right now.”

“What happened? Hey, talk to me.” He grabbed her arm and spun her around.

Jo immediately jerked her arm out of Dean's grasp. “Get off me!”

“Sorry. See you around,” he said, turning back to you and Sam.

“Dean,” Jo’s broken voice called.

He turned back to the blonde.

“It turns out my dad had a partner on his last hunt. Funny, he usually worked alone; this guy did too, but,” she swallowed her forming tears, “I guess my father figured he could trust him. Mistake. Guy screwed up, got my dad killed.”

The older brother’s face scrunched up. “What does this have to do with—”

“It was your father, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. “What?”

“Why do you think John never came back? Never told you about us? Because he couldn't look my mom in the eye after that, that's why,” Jo spat.

“Jo—” Dean tried.

“Just... just get out of here. Please, just leave.”

The three of you did as Jo asked. You headed back to Bobby’s to regroup and find yourselves another hunt. Dean was silent on the multi-hour-long drive back. When you stopped at Bobby’s house, Sam went inside. Dean stayed seated in his car, and you stayed with him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

He scoffed. “ ‘What’s wrong’? Did you hear anything Jo said?”

“I did, I just wanted to see what’s goin’ on in your head,” you replied, unfazed by his attitude.

He shook his head and sighed. “If Ellen hated my dad so much and didn’t trust us at all, then why the fuck would she have called my dad in the first place?”

You nodded, getting out of the car; followed by Dean. “Yeah, I don’t get it,” you agreed. “She wants to get involved with your personal family shit and the demon and let us bunk at her place, and then bring up old crap you and Sam weren’t even a part of? I mean, I get that John did something that got ‘im killed, but I really don’t see how that’s your fault.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled. “At least we don’t have to babysit anymore.”

You snorted. “That’s one way to look at it, I guess. But you don’t have to pretend you’re not bothered by it. I know you are.”

He scoffed.

“Dean. I know you are. And I also know that I trust you with my life. And you know I don’t trust easily. You are not your father.” You walked up the steps into Bobby’s house, leaving Dean in the junkyard to mull over your words.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[adhdduckie]

CATS AND WITCHES; sam winchester x fem!witch!reader

my masterlist

irl moots pls dni, i'll actually die if you mention this irl.

SOULMATESSSS

on the radio; at last by etta james

word count: 7.4k

synopsis; early seasons sam and dean were passing through a small town, where they see an ad about an unnatural disappearance of a girl, there were reports of large feline mammals around the victim's house before the disappearance, and the girl who disappeared mentioned having strange visions. sam and dean decide to check it out because of the large reward for any information. SOULMATESSSS

t.w; swearing, violence, supernatural stuff

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

sam has spent the last 3 days in the car, and he's bored out of his mind. the Winchester brothers had just finished a vampire hunt the week before, and were travelling around north of texas to find their father.

they were sitting in a small diner booth, going through some newspapers to see if there were any supernatural reports. sam was sipping a mug of some pretty bad coffee, but he had no other alternatives.

"here's one." dean says, turning around the newspaper he was looking at. sam sets down his coffee, picking it up and his eyes are caught by the red circle around the missing advert.

"the disappearance of a girl." sam reads aloud. he looks up from the paper, looking at dean with a raised eyebrow.

"keep reading." dean replies, nodding his head.

"reward of twelve thousand dollars if you can find her, and bring her home. come to * address, **** town, north texas for more information, regarding before her disappearance." he finishes.

dean whistles. "that's a lot of money. is she special or something? or is her family just rich?"

"how do we know it's a supernatural disappearance and not a kidnapping or something like that?" sam asks, setting the paper down as he speaks to dean.

"well, they wouldn't be offering such a large sum if it was a kidnapping. but it's probably worth checking out anyway, with that large of a sum. plus, i checked the map, it's only an hour's drive from here." dean replies, swallowing the rest of his breakfast.

"we could use the money anyway." dean says, as a way to convince sam.

"fine." is sam's response, and they both get up from their breakfast, throwing cash onto the table, before heading back to baby.

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

sam steps out of the car, looking up at the large mansion before him.

"damn." dean whistles, shutting baby's door.

"this better be worth our time." sam says as they stride towards the large mahogany door.

Sam noticed that the closer they got to your house, there was a pull at his stomach. Something seemed so familiar but so alienating at the same time. The closer he got, the stronger the pull in his stomach got as well. maybe it was something bad he had at the diner. he knew it looked way too suspicious for such a cheap meal.

Sam’s knocked out of his reverie, his hand clutching his abdomen as dean knocks quite aggressively, and a "coming!" is heard from the other side of the door.

seconds later, a small woman stands in front of the door, and dean and sam both have to crane their necks down to look at her properly. she's wearing a pair of old jeans and a large shirt, and she looks like your typical old auntie that you'd find at a market, bartering for cheaper prices.

"how can i help you?" she asks them.

dean holds up the newspaper advert, showing it to her. "we're here to hear more about the disappearance of a girl? we think we might be able to help." he responds.

the old auntie looks them up and down, sizing them up. she huffs, and opens the door further for both of them to come in. "My name is Miss jones. Would you like tea or coffee? Mrs. L/N will see you soon."

"coffee would be good, thanks." sam responds, and dean chimes the same. miss jones gestures towards one of the pristine white couches, as she goes to make the coffee, with a teeter in her step.

"mrs l/n! there's someone at the door who thinks they can help with Miss Y/n's disappearance." miss jones yells up the large swirling stairs, which are both dark and elegant.

"alright alright. I'll be down soon, make sure they're comfortable!" is the response from the top of the spiral staircase. The seemingly disembodied voice is regal and smooth, sounding as if it seems to curl around the brain.

the couch is plush and comfortable, the room is majestic and comforting, some soft classical music seems to slither into the room from a study, and there are loads of what they assume to be family pictures everywhere.

heels clack against marble staircases as a woman walks down the stairs, her eyes seeming to dim when they look at sam and dean.

"hello, my name is mrs l/n. I do hope that you're comfortable." she asks them, reaching out to sam and dean in a handshake. her hand is soft to the touch, but it's a very firm handshake.

mrs l/n sits in front of them both, her legs crossed over the other at the thigh. She's dressed in a smart suit and pants, as if she's ready for a photoshoot. ms jones comes in from the kitchen, placing down two hot mugs of the best smelling coffee in front of the boys, with a wide assortment of finger sandwiches.

sam and dean share a look, picking up a small sandwich each.

"we're sam and dean. we saw your advert in the paper, mrs. we thought we might be able to help. you see, we specialise in a sort of detective work." dean says, instantly switching on the charisma.

Mrs. L/N sighs. "at this point, i would accept anyone's help for this. the best P.Is we hired were unable to find anything." she pulls out a handkerchief from her suit front pocket, dabbing at her wet eyes, ever the picture of regality.

"i suppose you'd like to hear more about it, right?" She asks.

the boys both nod, picking up some more of the sandwiches. ms jones takes the already empty plate back to the kitchen, filling it up with more assortments for the boys.

"it started last month. my daughter, who i believe is about your age, maybe a couple years younger, she's twenty. a wonderful soul." she sobs, her regal and composed demeanour cracking before them.

the boys wait for her to compose herself before continuing.

"she came home from university, and she was so shaken up. it was easter break, so i was very excited to see her again. she only visits every school break, you know? she seemed so off. i asked her what was wrong, but she kept saying that she was fine, and she was just upset about not obtaining 100% on her end of term exam. i didn't believe her, of course, i could tell it was something more than that."

the boys lean forward, only subconsciously reaching for the delicious small finger sandwiches. mrs l/n cracks a small smile at that, and continues on.

"I persisted, and she finally told me that it was because she kept seeing things. she told me that one night when walking back to her apartment after a late class, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She didn't think too much of it at first, before she realised it was a large feline. she said she didn't really react, as she was with a large group of her friends, and it was unlikely that it would attack. but every night that week, she said she saw it again.”

“on the final night before she came home, she saw it again while she was getting out of a cab after a night out with friends. she finally saw it properly. she described it as a dark hulking mass that seemed to be made entirely of shadows and horrors. she said she couldn't sleep that night."

at this, the brothers share an interesting look, like a demon or something. or perhaps a familiar of a witch that she had angered.

"She chalked it up to her inebriated state, but it kept eating at her. after she told me, she broke down in tears. i told her she was fine, and she didn't have to worry about it. she was safe in our house. you know, we've always believed in the paranormal, as her father was a very cautious man. we have salt and iron rock brigades in the walls of the house and the marble floors."

sam and dean look surprised at this, having a quick glance around the room. mrs l/n laughs. "i know. i found it silly at first, but my husband has had this house in his family for generations."

"that night when she finally came home, after telling me everything, she retired to her room. the next morning i had gone into her bedroom to look for her to tell her breakfast was ready, and she-" mrs l/n sobs.

"she?" sam supplies. dean's too busy stuffing his face with the plate of cakes that were just set in front of him.

"she wasn't there! there were scratch marks, so deep and etched as if there was something trying to ruin the walls." mrs l/n wails. flailing her arms about. "i'm so-" she hiccups. "i'm so sorry. i'm not usually like this. i miss my daughter, i'm so worried about her."

"we understand. we'll do everything we can to help you. is it possible for us to inspect the scratch marks, and also check out ms y/n's room?"

"of course." is mrs' l/n's response. "you both look so hungry, you must need a lot of food to help you. take up the cake plates with you. and if you want anything else, just yell for either miss jones or i. her room is the one on the third floor, with the flowers and vines on the door." she gives them a watery smile, picking up the plates from the table, holding it up to them.

"thank you mrs. l/n." sam and dean respond, taking the plates, standing up from the couch, as ms jones shows them the way.

'be careful. there's a dark energy in that room." Ms jones whispers to them, as they follow behind her teetering form as she hobbles up the stairs.

"oh don't worry, we're used to it." dean responds, as she points out the room to them, before hobbling back down the stairs to mrs. l/n.

"i hope the winchester brothers are careful." mrs l/n says to ms jones. "I wouldn't want john to get mad at me if they're horribly injured." she turns to the small woman beside her.

"they've grown quite big. especially sam. he's so much bigger now." mrs l/n states.

"why didn't you tell them you know them?" ms jones responds.

"they would probably ask me to tell them where john is, and i can't do that." mrs l/n sighs.

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

"mrs l/n is not as snobby as i expected her to be. she's quite nice." dean says to sam, as they stand outside of your room's door.

"i know. what do you think happened to her daughter?" sam asks as he pushes open your door.

dean takes in a deep breath at the sight before him.

"shit." he whispers out. "what happened here?"

your (normally) tidy room is in shambles. cupboards are on the floor, clothes spilling out of them. there's money strewn across the floor, making it look like a robbery scene. there's glass shards on the floor of your room, meaning your room has been broken into. which is strange, considering your room is on the third floor.

the only thing that makes it not look like a robbery and a kidnapping, is the deep scratches on the marble floor, in the solid walls, and in your bed bannisters.

"fuck, man." dean muffles out through a large bite of cake. "that's some really awesome cake." he says.

"seriously? shouldn't we focus on this instead?" sam says, rolling his eyes.

"i can eat cake at the same time."

sam sets down his plates, shrugging off his heavy bag full of iron salt and iron chains.

it seems as if your mother had left it the way she found it, to help with any investigations made into your disappearance.

sam walks closer to the large claw marks on your bed bannisters. the sheets are intact, and it seems like whatever took you woke you up from the glass shattering.

the sheets are a mess, and your pillow is on the floor. there's a bat beside your bed, which seems to be smeared with some blood on the handle.

"shit. what kind of princess has a bat beside her bed?" dean says, noticing Sam's gaze.

"her mom told us she was really freaked out. she probably put it there for her own protection." sam responds, rolling his eyes.

sam runs his fingers over the deep etches in the bedframe, pausing when he feels a pulse of energy.

"that's weird." he states absentmindedly to himself, not noticing dean standing behind him, still holding onto what must be his third plate of chocolate cake.

"what?" He mumbles around the cake.

sam turns his head, still crouching low as he runs his fingers to the next deep scratch. there's something pulling at him, so he follows it, but he stoops low to pick up his bag, beckoning dean behind him.

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

sam's followed it into a deep, dark forest. it's a couple of miles from your house, a large secluded forest.

dean complains about the temperature as he walks, but the deeper they go into the forest, the more they realise that something is wrong.

well, not wrong, but it feels, heavy. not temperature wise, but an aura that seems lonely and sad. it settles on the shoulders, causing the walk to get harder and slower.

dean's lugging the bags, complaining of the weight as he hobbles. He's still injured from their last hunt, and he's been slow and in pain recently.

a couple of branches snaps in the distance, and they both pause. It's not an animal. they're silent there on out, and walk towards the sound. The pull is getting stronger.

there's a figure hooded in the dark, and sam and dean share a look. what is it this time, a demon, a cold maiden or a wailing banshee?

the closer they get, they realise it's not any of the aforementioned. the figure is small, human-like. their hands are corporeal, foraging in the grass for herbs. the pull he feels is getting stronger. in sam's haste to get closer, to see what they're looking at, he steps on a branch, and it cracks loudly.

In the forest, you’ve been foraging, the entire day, you had been feeling a light tug on your stomach, and you just thought it was because your familiar had been away. You had been feeling a pull in your stomach, but just as the branch cracks, it gets stronger. your head shoots up, and you freeze.

what you first think you see is a moose, but the longer you look, it's a pair of two boys. the one who's startled you is taller than the other, and he's the one that you thought was a moose. but what scares you the most is the fact they're both carrying two large heavy bags, not knowing what they might hold inside. so you do the first thing that comes to your mind, you run.

sam recognizes you from the images, and just as he realises the look in your eyes is fear, it's too late. you're already running.

sam sprints after you, wanting to talk and understand why you've seemed to stage your own abduction, but when dean catches up to sam, he tells him to stop, and the more he chases, the more likely you're to run.

"why is she here? why is she okay?" sam asks dean. dean just shrugs, and thinks for a second.

"she was probably sick of her home life or something." dean finally responds, picking up the bags that sam had dropped. dean frowns before finishing. "but you said that you felt a pulse of dark energy, right?"

sam nods in response. curiosity gets the best of him, and he wants to know why you were running. and for the large bounty, they have to bring you back.

they follow the pull that sam feels, the force pulling him closer to you.

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

"what. the fuck." you're thinking as you sprint through the forest. you're wondering how they found you, and what were they going to do to you?

you make it back to the small cottage you found in the woods years ago, having made it more habitable as time had passed.

slamming the door behind you, you lean against it, sliding down until you're sitting.

"fuck. who were they?" you ask yourself, praying that they won't be coming after you.

you stand, setting down the basket you had used to collect the mushrooms on the sink, petting the maine coon that sits next to you, he purrs, rubbing his head against your hand, you’re glad that he’s back.

suddenly, you hear the front door creak open, and the moose boy and what seems to be his brother now that you have had a proper look, are standing there.

you freeze, standing up and immediately picking up the large knife on the counter. "what do you want?" you demand, brandishing it at them.

the moose boy, who's broad and tall, drops the bags they were carrying on the threshold of your house. his hands, which are large like the rest of him, are held up in a sign of surrender, a sign that they weren't going to hurt you.

"we don't wanna hurt you. we just wanna talk." he says to you. his voice is deep, and if he wasn't a total stranger who barged into your house, you'd describe it as soothing.

"the fuck you mean you wanna talk? who are you? how did you find me?" you grumble, whirring the knife around and around your hand.

dean laughs, scoffing a little. "she's not as princess as I thought. How is she mrs. l/n's daughter?" he says to sam.

you overhear him, pausing. "what do you mean? how do you know my mother?" you demand, holding the knife further up.

"she's the one who hired us to find you. she thinks you've been taken." sam states slowly, approaching you as if you're an easily startled deer.

you lower your knife, setting it down. you'll trust these boys for now. they don't seem so bad. your maine coon, ares, however, disagrees. he snarls, shifting into his larger form. he's the size of a tiger in that form. the whiteness of his fur melting into a dark, staticky one.

dean lets out a yell in surprise, and hits sam in the face. the whisps of darkness of ares's fur are tinted with a red, and they float towards you.

"no! ares. stop." you demand, and he turns his head to your side, baring his teeth. "it's fine for now." you state.

dean and sam know what you are now. a witch, with a rare familiar. "fuck." sam whispers. "yeah." dean agrees.

ares snarls again, before shifting back into his original form.

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

a few minutes later, your door is closed, and the three of you are settled around your small kitchen, steaming cups of herbal tea set up in all of their hands.

your mug is small in sam's hand, and it would be funny how out of place he looks in the small hut if you weren't so worried. he really does remind you of a moose.

"okay, moose. tell me everything." you state, pointing at sam.

"first of all, moose? what the hell is that?" he asks, bewildered. dean laughs, smacking him on the back.

"i dunno. you remind me of one." you shrug, but you point at him again.

"okay, your mom hired us to look for you since she's super worried. you just up and disappeared. " dean interjects.

"but the real question is, what the hell are you doing?" sam finishes.

you let out a deep sigh. In the last couple of days, you've felt so stressed about this. whatever these powers are, they're so annoying. what have you done to deserve this?

"the cat you saw, ares, he's supposed to be my familiar." you tell them everything, about how your powers manifested, how ares had found you to help you control your powers better, how you ran away because you were scared of hurting your friends and your loved ones.

"ares did the scratching for me, in the wood. he broke the glass for me, to make it look like a burglary. i did my best." you finish, and you're feeling tears well up in your eyes.

"hey." sam soothes you, resting a hand on your shoulder. his palm is warm and heavy, and you briefly wonder what it would be like to hold it.

"i'm learning to control my powers too, we should work together." he suggest and dean sends him a funny look.

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

your mom cries and hugs when she sees you, and gives the money that was promised to the two boys.

"why did you leave?" she begs you for answer, her arms still wrapped around you.

dean and sam, you now know their names, are sat on your couch again, eating some food.

"i was scared. I didn't want to hurt you." you tell her, mumbling into her hair.

"you could never. I should have warned you that it was coming." your mom tells you, patting your head softly. this gets everyone's attention.

"you knew?" sam, dean and you all say at the same time. you catch the eyes of sam, and he smiles at you supportively. Is it weird that it's supportive, even though you've only known him a couple hours?

"yeah. it's been passed down through generations, but it skipped me." she shrugs, telling everyone. "it's funny, because when we were younger, john-" she slaps a hand over her own mouth.

"fuck." she whispers out, but it's muffled.

"you knew our father?" sam asks your mum, standing up from his seat. she sighs, and shakes her head.

"i knew him, but i don't know where he is." she says sadly.

your mom tells you all of how she grew up with him, and that they were neighbours. Her father and john’s, were good friends. You even spent some time with sam and dean when you were younger, but just didn’t remember as you were too young.

Everyone nods in understanding, and you finally feel better.

“Mom?” you ask quietly, dragging her to the side. Unknown to you, sam’s watching you with a small smile, but dean notices.

“You whipped already, moose?” dean teases sam. “What-? No.” sam responds, but he feels his face heat up.

“I’m just wondering what led me to her before.” he says, trying to change the topic.

“Who knows. You could be soulmates.” dean jokes, thinking about their shared demon blood.

“Maybe.” he mumbles halfheartedly, not really listening.

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

“Mum?” you ask as you pull your mom to the side to talk to her.

“Yes, sweetheart?” she responds.

“Uhm, i want to go with them.” you say.

“What?” your mom panics. “Are you sure? It’s not going to be safe.” she says.

“I know. But i want to learn how to control the powers properly. There are some things I want to learn, some things i need to see that if i don’t leave, i’ll never see.” you tell her, trying your best to convince her.

“I see.” she responds. She’s got her poker face on, the one that won her 10 thousand dollars at a casino in las vegas when you were 11. You don’t know what she’s going to say, but you hope that she’ll let you go. “What’s something you want to learn?” she finally asks you.

You stare at her in bewilderment, your ears reddening before you speak. “Before sam and dean found me, i felt this pull in my stomach. I feel it now, and it only seems to be slacker when i’m with the two of them. I want to learn what that is.”

Your mom laughs so hard, she ends up wiping tears from her eyes. “I see.” she wheezes.

“What?” you ask her.

“Nothing, nothing. You’ll figure it out eventually.” she says, giggling to herself again.

You groan, “but can i go? I want your blessing.” you beg.

“Yes you can. But you must be safe, and remember to call me at least once a week, so that i know you’re still alive and safe. I’ll kill the both of them if they even let you get hurt.” she says, threatening loud enough that sam and dean stop whispering between themselves enough to look up at you both.

Sam’s got a sheepish grin on his face, and dean’s got a smirk, as if he’s saying that he knows something you don’t.

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

The next year is a mess.

You spend all of your time with the boys, getting close enough to both of them to consider them both your best friends.

Dean’s like a brother to you. And Sam, well sam-… he’s different.

Everytime you see him, you can’t help but smile. Every room he’s in with you seems brighter than it was before he went in, and you love every single second of your life that you spend with him.

The bond isn’t so strong when you’re together, but it’s only quiet when you’re touching him. If it’s hands pressed together, his arm resting on your shoulder, you tucked into his side, as long as you’re touching, it’s restful.

It’s hard sometimes, the life of a hunter. Your witch abilities help them on the hunt, and the added protection of ares is really good too.

You’re in a pickle, a couple of times. The work is dangerous, and not many make it to an older age.

This last hunting trip is going to kill you, you decide as soon as dean describes what’s going on.

A small rickety sports bar has been popping up all over the country, a popular couple’s bar named ‘hearts aligned.’ the story is that everytime a couple walks in, the chances are that the couples don’t come back out.

It seems to be this strangeness that is attracting all these couples to keep coming anyway. It’s ridiculous how people think that it’s cool because of that, and instead of staying away, they keep coming back.

So this is what leads you to now. Your smaller hand wrapped around sam’s larger one, as you entered the bar. you swear you can hear dean sniggering miles away back at the hotel rooms at the mere thought of your forced proximity with his baby brother.

Of course, dean found out that you liked sam, he became annoying to the point where he found numerous excuses for why he couldn’t do hunts, preferring to stay at the bunker than go out.

“Oh, my back hurts. Since you’re younger, you and moose can go do this one.” he’ll say, as he pushes you and sam out the door. He always sends you a wink.

Moose has now become a nickname for sam. It wasn’t on purpose, no matter how many times sam accuses you of finding the least suitable nickname for him.

Sam and you, wrapped up together as you wait in the lobby of the bar. The smell of sweat and love hangs heavy in the air, sticking to your skin like honey.

You don’t like it. You don’t like how natural it feels to be tucked into sam’s side, his hand resting on your waist. You don’t like how it feels so natural that he’s pressing light kisses to your hairline, like you’re something precious that he’s afraid to be away from for even a second.

You really hate how he’s playing the role of an affectionate boyfriend so well, and you know as soon as this is over, you’re never going to be able to get over it. You’re gonna get addicted if this keeps going on.

Not to mention, you hate how because of your short dress, you're cold, and somehow without you even saying anything, Sam's noticed. You didn’t even say anything, and he wrapped himself around you with the sole goal to warm you up.

And it works, he does. The body heat he emits is more than enough to warm you up, without being too warm. His hand, resting on your hip, is warm even through the fabric of your dress.

And most of all, you hate how the pull that you’ve felt in the pit of your stomach that’s been there since you’ve met the brothers, isn’t tight, for once. It feels as if that the closer you are to him, the more relaxed you feel.

“You okay?” sam whispers into your ear, playing the role of the beloved concerned boyfriend well. You shiver slightly, the warmth of his voice does that to you. It’s impressive how as soon as you feel the slightest bit off, that he notices. It’s as if he’s fine tuned himself into all the subtle shifts of your moods.

“Yeah.” you whisper in response. He does notice the shiver, but he chalks it up to the aircon vent blowing cold air at your back. He moves so that he’s in the way of the aircon’s cold blast, his warm front pressing into your back.

You let out a small huff of air, comfortable with his proximity and his warmth. “How long do you think this’ll take, moose? I’m getting tired.” You whisper to him, the music strangely quiet for a bar. To make sure he hears you better, you turn your face to him, bringing your lips closer to his ear.

He fights a difficult battle, trying everything in his willpower not to blush. That damn nickname, you… Everything, it’s killing him. “Dunno, shouldn’t be that much longer.” he responds in what he hopes is a confident, strong tone.

The longer you stay at the bar, the quieter it gets. Some couples leave giggling and laughing, dragging their partner’s hand with a mischievous smile.

You feel the bar getting colder, and a quick glance at the thermostat proves you right. “Anytime now.” he whispers again.

Suddenly, there’s a guttural screech, and the rest of the bar goers flee the premises, leaving you and sam alone in the bar. He steps away from you, pulling out the revolver supplied with rock salt, and bares it at the source of the screech.

As you unclasp the thigh guard, you pull out your own gun, similar to his. It was a gift from him on your birthday, engraved with your initials and a small cat.

You point it where sam is pointing his gun. You feel goosebumps raising on your arms, the hairs standing up as you hear a little scuttle. If you weren’t so fine tuned into sam, you wouldn’t have noticed how the hairs on the back on his neck stick up as well.

You want to smooth them down, but it really isn’t the time for that.

The scuttling gets louder, the sound of nails on a blackboard screeches through the bar as the music abruptly stops. The screeching gets louder, scuttling like a beetle as it gets closer, so loud that you think it’s right next to you, but you can’t see anything at all.

You pause, feeling your heart momentarily stop. Slowly craning your neck up to the ceiling, you almost scream. A year into the business, and you’re still not prepared.

▷ —-------------------- (crack)

The sound of the chair being knocked over as you scramble away from- from- whatever that thing is.

It’s got long dark hair, which is dangling. A feminine shape, with a covered face, but you can feel eyes staring at you with a glowering menace even without seeing it. Even no longer directly below it, you can feel it staring at you.

Sam gets in a protective stance, blocking its view of you by stepping in front of it.

‘Well…what have we click click here?” it rasps, voice disoriented and deep, clicking, sounding at the back of its dry throat, reminding you of the sounds the velociraptors in Jurassic world made.

You raise the gun, pointing it right between where the eyes would be on a normal person. Sam reaches out behind him, just checking to see if you’re behind him still, making sure you’re still safe.

“awww. such a cute hunter couple.” it snarls, dropping from the ceiling. its bones crack as it moves, body bending backwards as it stalks towards you.

suddenly it pauses. “you don't see that often, anymore.” it mumbles to itself, one grotesque finger drawing a line connecting the two of you, and the next thing you know, you're thrown together against the wall as it stalks closer.

“fuck.” sam groans as his back hits the wall, and you let out a hiss of pain, tied to his chest as you flail around, trying to move.

something invisible is pinning you in place. you're embarrassed to say that even in such a dangerous position, your heart is thumping aggressively in your chest, practically bursting out.

the thing is drawing close, and it's enough to get you to snap out of your reverie, and you remember that it's neither the time nor the place for this.

“Hmm. soulmates? So rare. You both can’t be human then.” it grumbles, its finger bending back with an unnatural crack.

‘What the fuck.’ you’re thinking as you both are struggling. Using your powers, you send a blast, making the thing fall back, scuttling its old bones as it regains its stance, prowling towards you.

In the time that it loses its balance, you and sam find yours. He pulls you up to his feet quickly, retrieving both of your guns as he points it at the thing, his other hand behind him, ensuring that you’re behind him.

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

In the end, you end up taking it out, sending it back to a demon dimension, and dragging your sorry asses back to your hotel rooms, where dean, is lying comfortably on the bed, with a beer in his hand.

You glare at him, beaten up and bloody, cuts all over your face from falling face first into a window. You’ve healed all the serious injuries, but don’t have enough energy to do the rest.

“I take it went well?” dean asks smugly, stretching out his limbs as if he’s done anything remotely productive. (spoiler alert. He hasn’t. He’s just gotten back from the bar)

“She was an elder-being. Thanks for the warning, dean.” sam growls, eyebrows furrowed as he hobbles over to lie on the bed.

“Hey! Don’t get the bedsheets bloody, we’ll be charged more.” you say, hitting him lightly, wincing when you hear him let out a hiss of pain.

“Shit.” sam whimpers, holding his arm, slightly above the slash in his arm. It’s not bleeding heavily anymore, but you bet it’s painful as hell, especially with those long ass nails raking at him.

“I’m sorry!! I didn’t mean to. Wait, I'll help patch you up. ” you tell him pushing him down so he sits on the edge of his bed in dean and his’ room.

Dean lets out a grunt as he jumps to his feet, already having enough of whatever flirting will happen soon.

“Right, i’m heading down to the bar, gonna check out the ladies.” he says, striding over to the door.

“Weren’t you just at the bar?” you ask him with a raised brow.

“Yeah, but they’re probably already missing me.” he responds, winking at ya. You can hear sam groaning slightly from the pain, turning your eyes away from dean to watch sam, you hear the door click closed behind you

You roll your eyes, pulling out the medical kit to pay attention to how injured sam might be.

“That was really stupid of you, moose. Jumping out a window?” you chastise him, a worried furrow in your brows as you pull out the necessary ointments.

Sam stares at you, his fingers itching at his side, wanting to smooth out the furrow in your brows. He thinks about what the demon thing said, and wants to talk about it, but he wants you to be comfortable first.

“Are you injured anywhere?” he asks, his hand reaching up and doing what he wants. His touch is gentle and soft, and even as he smooths the furrow out of your brow, his thumb lingers, before he pulls back. You miss his touch instantly, skin tingling where his thumb rested.

“Just a couple of scratches. Nothing as serious as your arm.” you respond, grimacing slightly as you really look at his cut.

“Yeah, but i’m still worried about you.” he responds, frowning.

“Don’t. Be more worried about yourself, since you’re the one in pain right now.” you chastise him, trying to pull the edges of his shirt away from the cut, letting out a sigh when he

“You gotta take off your overshirt, sam. I don’t wanna have the fabric sticking to the cut, or infecting it.” you tell him, stepping back while you wait for him to do as you ask.

He winces as he pulls it over his head, his white undershirt stained from the blood only on one side.

“You see? And you’re still telling me that you’re worried about me.” you say, pointing to the cut.

As you end up cleaning it up first, you’re in a comfortable silence. You keep thinking about the eldritch woman, and what she said about a soulmate bond. It would make a lot of sense, how for all this time, you’ve always been drawn to him.

Not just physically, but what seems to be mentally too, you notice all of his quirks, his hobbies, his preferences, and what he would deem his faults. They’re not faults to you, they’re just him, and you love him.

Unknown to you, he’s thinking the same. Maybe not to the same extent of what you're thinking, but to a similar extent. He’s curious about what happened, and he wants to know more, to know if you feel the same pull he does.

You end up stitching the rest of his cut up, and when you’re done, you collapse onto the bed in exhaustion. Letting out a deep, tired sigh, you throw your arm over your eyes, blocking out the light.

Sam’s still sitting on the edge of his bed, but he’s turned to stare at you. He watches the way your chest rises and falls with each breath you take, and even with the sound of music drifting into the room from the bar downstairs, he can hear the little puffs of air you let out.

He calls your name, and you shift your arm upwards, resting against your forehead as you stare down at him.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“..what do you think she meant about the soulmate bond?” sam asks. He’s probably the most nervous he’s ever been right now, but it’s a kind of nervousness that is elating, making his heart race in his chest.

You blink at him, just assuming that that was just going to be something else swept under the carpet of your friendship if you didn’t bring it up. Like lingering stares, touches that are wayyyy too long to just be friendly, and the way he’s just too fine tuned into you.

“Uh. Maybe what it quite literally means?” You finish, trying not to show just exactly how terrified you are right now, since this is a topic you thought you’d never talk about. Like how dean really really needs a love life, not just one night stands.

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes, and he feels slightly less stressed about bringing this topic up now, since you sound to him as if you’ve been thinking about it too.

You really want to talk about it, but you really don’t want to sound too desperate.

“You know that’s not what I mean, y/n.” he tells you, shifting so that his legs are no longer hanging off the edge of the bed, and he’s looking right at you. His arm is tender, and the little movement is enough to make him wince.

Sitting up to look at him properly, you sigh. You don’t know what to say, really.

“Do you feel it?” he asks, shyly. “The soulmate bond?” He thinks of all the times he’s even thought that you might have reciprocate his feelings, and he thinks he has a solid chance right now.

You don’t think you’re gonna get rejected, but it’s still slightly unnerving to bring something as serious as this up, because if it doesn’t work out, your entire dynamic will be destroyed, and you will not only lose the love of your life, but your best friend, and in the process, you could lose dean, too.

“Yeah. i just didn’t know what it was before.” you tell him, scratching the back of your neck nervously, wincing when you scratch at a injury you didn’t notice before.

Sam lightens up obviously, the physical embodiment of puppy eyes. He looks at you now, and he laughs.

“What?” you ask him, slightly nervous.

“I feel it too, you know?” he tells you. “I felt it that day in the woods, i felt it when you left my side for even a moment, I felt it when we were together. I just thought it was some kind of overattachment to you.”

This makes you laugh, and he pulls you closer by your arm.

“I felt it in the woods, that day when I thought you were a moose, I felt it when I sat in the passenger seat of baby, I felt it when you were injured in the hospital.” you respond, thinking of all the times where the bond vexed you, and made you happy.

Sam stares down at you, pulling you into his side properly. You’re tucked into under his arm as he presses a chaste kiss to the tips of your fingers, to the palm of your hand, your forearm, as he slowly makes his way up to your face.

In between each kiss, he whispers out to you; “I've felt you everywhere in my life since the first day I met you. In my head, my lungs, in my space. You are the air I breathe, and without you, I'm scared I’ll die.”

he pauses when he reaches your jaw, pausing, giving you time to push him away if you don’t want this.

“yeah? “ you respond smugly, gloating now that you’re aware of just how much you affect him. You’re breathless, waiting for the kiss that you feel you’ve been missing your entire life.

This is the only moment that matters, the part where you finally come together. With that, he kisses you. The kiss is sweet and soft, a promise of more to come.

He pulls back, forehead resting against yours and your breaths mingle together, but it isn’t enough. You need more for all the times you’ve been afraid he’s hurt or worse, dead.

You pull him closer by the collar of his undershirt, and kiss him. You kiss him like crazy, and he reciprocates, kissing you harder. This kiss is everything you’ve lost, come back to you.

When you finally pull apart, you’re giggling, and he chuckles, pressing another chaste kiss to your forehead, whispering how much he loves you.

You fall asleep entangled together, ankles crossed over his as he rests his arm over your waist, your head tucked between his neck and his shoulder.

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

Dean comes back from the bar, switching on the light of the room, and he quite literally does a double take when he sees the two of you entangled together, even in sleep.

He does everything in his power not to wake you up with screams of “i knew it” and “it’s about damn time”. He’s happy to see his brother so content, even in sleep, there’s a smile on sam’s face.

Dean pulls out his phone, sending a quick text to mrs l/n; who’s number he got to stay in touch with updates of his father.

‘You owe me ten bucks.’ he types out.

The screen lights up with a response from mrs l/n.

‘What!? Already? I thought it would be later.’ is the reply, and he laughs at that.

[winchester-24]

Imagine being kidnapped and Sam coming to save you

It was always humans that threw you off. Monsters were consistent, they had signs, and you knew how they operated. Humans, on the other hand, were a wild card. They could change their motives, tactics, and scenery at any point.

You were in town buying things for dinner. You told Sam and Dean that you would make a homemade meal tonight, but you needed to go get the ingredients. You kissed your boyfriend Sam, waved bye to Dean, and told them you wouldn’t be gone for more than an hour and a half.

You were looking at the produce at this little market when you started to feel like you were being watched. You looked around but did not see anything out of the ordinary. You kept searching for the perfect tomatoes when you felt the eyes again. Something was wrong. You looked up, but everything looked the same. Until you noticed something weird. There were three ways to leave the market: by the checkout, the back door, and a side door. At each exit was a man of different build, around the same age, but all wearing the same baseball hat. Heads down, ‘looking’ at whatever was in front of them. You then realized that it was just you and those three men in the store; the cashier was nowhere in sight. You dropped the tomato you were holding and pretended to look at the other produce. You grab the pocketknife you keep in your back pocket and slide it up your sleeve, opening it and holding it against your hand. You discreetly assess which man would be easiest to get away from if you needed to. For all you know, you’re being paranoid. You then change your plan, take out your phone, and start texting Sam, saying he needs to come to the market.

“Now, why are you starting to text someone, love?” a mysterious voice says behind you. You quickly turn around, trying to hit send on the text, but accidentally calling Sam. The man knocks you out with a punch to the face and starts yelling at the other men to get you loaded up and back to the house. The whole time, Sam can hear and yell your name.

Sam’s P.O.V

I was looking up possible cases to go on when Y/N called me. I smiled and immediately picked it up.

“Hey baby, you,” I was cut short by hearing the phone clatter on the other end and a man yelling at others, telling them to put Y/N in a truck and head back to the house. I stood up.

“Y/N? Y/N!” I yell but do not get a response. Then, the phone call drops.

“Dean!” I yell, already grabbing my things. Dean comes running into the library.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think Y/N is in trouble, let go!” I say quickly, Dean following right behind me. We hurry into the Impala, and Dean slams on the gas.

“Where am I going?”

“The market, the one that Y/N always makes up stop at.” Dean presses on the gas harder as I start to bounce my leg. I pray to God, an angel, and anyone that she is okay. Dean gets up there in record time, and we see her truck as we pull up. I quickly leave the car and run into the store, calling for her. Nothing. I noticed that no one was there either. Shouldn’t there be a clerk? Dean comes up behind me.

“I get left. You get it, right?” He asks. I nod my head, our guns drawn. I round by the produce aisle and see her phone on the ground, broken as someone has stepped on it.

“Dean, I got something,” I call. Dean walks up to me and sees her phone.

“Well, that’s not good.” He mutters. My heart drops into my stomach, and I do not know how to start looking for her. I look around.

“Dean, shouldn’t someone be at the register?” I question. Dean looks around.

“Yeah, let's look around.” We split up again, trying to find out where else Y/N might have been taken.

“Sam!” I hear Dean yell. I turn and quickly return to the more excellent section where Dean stands and an employee is tied up. We quickly untie the poor guy and get him out of the cooler.

“What happened to you?” I asked, hoping he would give me any information on where Y/N was. The anxiety that the worst has already happened to her crawls up my stomach into my chest. The employee tells us that three men came into the market, they saw her, and the next thing he knew, two of them had him gagged and in the cooler, before he could even blink. They were fast and coordinated. Dean nods his head and turns to walk out of the market. I follow behind, seeing the overcast coming in. It’s going to rain soon.

“What are we thinking, demons?” Dean asks as we walk back to the Impala. I don’t answer, but I stop at her truck. My eyes start to gather tears as it sets in more and more that she is gone. Dean walks up beside me and puts his hand on my shoulder.

“We will find her, Sammy.” I nod and get in her truck to take it back to the bunker, and Dean follows in the impala. I let the tears fall the whole way back.

“I’m going to find you beautiful; just give me time,” I whisper to no one.

Your P.O.V

It’s been around two days since you were taken. You only know this by the judgment of the light coming through the little window in this rickety basement these people have you in. You have been cut, slapped, beaten on, and verbally assaulted by all three of the men who took you. You still don’t know much about them, but your hope of getting out of here is less and less every hour. There is no way for Sam to track you, have no way to figure out who took you, and these metal chains they have you restrained in aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

You hear the door to the upstairs open, and steps start coming down. You can’t help but let out a whimper. You wish you were back at the bunker with Sam and Dean. You and Sam could be cuddling on the couch, watching a movie that neither of you is paying attention to because you two are paying attention to each other instead. Dean can comment about how you two are gross and to get a room, to which Sam would respond by getting up and picking you up, causing you to laugh as Dean makes fake gagging noises as Sam leads you to your guys’ room.

Your little daydream is cut off by someone slapping your face hard. You cry out in pain and look up to see the smallest of the three guys looking at you.

“Today is a special day!” He says excitedly, breath smelling like he hasn’t brushed his teeth in years. He doesn’t wait for you to respond but keeps going. “Cousin Lance gets in today; he liked you yesterday with the pictures we sent, so he is going to come to take you!” Your eyes grow wide. You can’t leave Lebanon. The guy laughs and gets close to your face and strokes it. “It is a shame. I thought you were beautiful, and we would keep you longer.” You look at him and spit in his face. He stumbles back, not expecting you to do that.

“Ah, you bitch.” He says, punching you in the face. That’s going to leave a bruise. You hear the door open from upstairs again.

“Tanner, let's go!” You hear a voice yell, and Tanner kicks you in the stomach before leaving back up the stairs. When the door shuts, you start crying.

“Please, Sammy, hurry.” You say in between sobs.

Sam’s P.O.V

It’s been two days, and we are no closer to finding Y/N than two days ago. The library is destroyed, our room has things thrown everywhere, and I can't remember the last time I ate. I’m sitting at the table, trying to figure out where these men could have taken Y/N. The security tapes Dean returned to get from the market don’t show their faces, so it’s hard to look up anyone who would look alike. I slam my laptop shut and put my head in my hands. For all I know, she could be dead. Dean comes walking in.

“We need to get you out of here for a little while; maybe a break will give you the fresh eyes you need, and you need to eat.”

“I can’t eat right now, Dean,” I mumble, heading to the kitchen for another beer.

“Y/N would want you to,” Dean replies.

“Y/N not here right now, Dean! Because I can’t find her! I have no idea where she is, if she is okay, or if she is already gone!” I snap at him. Dean doesn’t get angry or upset. He looks at me with understanding.

“You are running on nothing; you need to put something in your system other than alcohol if you want to be able to rescue her when we find her,” Dean says. I sigh.

“Okay.” I follow him out to the Impala to the diner, which the three of us frequently visit.

When we get there, we slide into our usual booth. Dean and I start looking at the menu, and I already know what we are going to get when I casually look up.

“Dude,” I whisper to Dean. Dean looks up at me.

“Hm?”

“Those hats look familiar?” Dean turns around while I look back at my menu. Four guys are sitting at a table. Three of them have the same hats we saw on the security camera, and the fourth guy has a different hat. Dean turns back around.

“I knew food was a good idea.” I roll my eyes.

“Dude, shut up.” The guys are too far away to hear anything they say, but we can eat and watch them. When they get up from their table, I lightly kick Dean under the table. He stuffs what he can of his burger in his mouth and then drops a fifty on the table. We get up and stroll out to the parking lot. We hear them talking to one another.

“Just follow us. It's ten minutes from here. You can't miss the house; it has Papi’s old red tractor out front, " one of the guys says. Dean and I get into the Impala and wait for the group to leave before following them from a distance.

We are coming, baby girl; hold on.

Your P.O.V

You don’t know how long they were gone. You tried everything to get out of these chains, but nothing worked. You needed the key, but it’s across the room hanging up. They put it there to mock you—disgusting pigs. You cried out in frustration and from being exhausted. You don’t know the last time you ate or drank something, and the pain is starting to catch up to you as well. You hear doors start opening upstairs and wish you could pass out. Tears make their way down your face again as you begin to realize this might be it for you; out of everything you have fought, it’s damn humans that get you. You then start to hear commotion upstairs and yelling. You listen to feet pounding around the house but can't make anything out. Your vision begins to blur, and you lean your head back against the pole you’re chained up against. Then you start hallucinating.

" Y/N?! " You hear Sam yell. You let tears out, knowing that it can’t be real; your mind is just being cruel. You hear feet pounding down the stairs, and you cry more, not caring anymore who hears you. You are sobbing.

“Please, no more, don’t hurt me anymore.” You cry out. You feel the gentlest hand cup your face.

“Oh, baby, what did they do to you?” A voice says softly. You recognize that voice. You open your eyes as best as possible and see Sam leaning over you.

“Sammy?” You whimper out.

“I’m here, beautiful, I’m here.”  You relax and let out another tear.

“Thank God.” You whisper out. You hear Dean, and a few seconds later, the chain lets loose of your wrists. You feel Sam pick you up, and you cry in pain as he moves your body in a way your ribs don’t like.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry,” Sam says repeatedly. You were going to reply to him, but then darkness just overwhelmed you.

When you woke up, your head was pounding, you were sore all over, and you felt like you couldn’t move. You opened your eyes to see that you were in your old room before you started sleeping with Sam full-time. Your wrists were bandaged, along with your midsection, and places on your leg were bandaged up. Your left hand was occupied by the younger Winchester’s hand, leaning over your head, resting on your bed, fast asleep. You tried shifting a little bit but let out a little whimper of pain when you did. This woke Sam up with a start.

“Y/N, you’re awake!” He says, eyes lighting up.

“Water.” You croak out to him, throat dry as can be. He quickly grabs the water bottle from the nightstand and helps you drink some. You end up drinking half the bottle. He takes it from your lips, and you sigh, leaning your head back on the pillow. You look at Sam, and you smile.

“You saved me.” He looks at you sadly

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.” You rub your thumb across the back of his hand.

“I’m just glad you found me.” He leans over and kisses your forehead.

“I’ll always find you beautiful.” He leans lower and kisses your lips. You lean as best into the kiss, enjoying the chance to kiss him again. He puts his hand up to your hair and strokes it as he tries to be gentle, not wanting to injure you further. He pulls away and looks at you with so much love.

“I love you so much, Y/N. You are never leaving my sight again.” He says.

“I love you too, Sam.”

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: stalker/ unsuccessful kidnap, violence, depictions of blood and assault (let me know if I should add more)

Chapter Word Count: 2318

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sooooo I’m sorry it’s not spicy like I said it would be… But I absolutely promise the next one will be! Chapters 5 and 6 were supposed to be just one chapter but it got too long so I had to split it… And again please let me know of any errors because this is only proof read by myself.

——————————————————————

Please Read the Below First:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I’m Not You’re F*cking Maid

Chapter 5

After thorough interviewing of the staff and regular patrons; long searches through copious auction records and meticulous studying of the items in the shop we narrowed our search down to one item: an old jade hairpin. The hairpin belonged to a young lady who was given the gift as a wedding present, however when she found out on her wedding night that her new husband was having an affair, she stabbed him to death with it before jumping to her own demise from their third floor balcony. That was just over a century ago, and she was still wreaking havoc on unfaithful men to this day.

“I mean I get where she’s coming from,” I shrugged as we walked back to the motel. Both brothers turned to look at me with concern smeared over their features. “OBVIOUSLY I don’t agree with all the murder,” they breathed a sigh of relief, “but you can’t hate her for being mad. I would be too.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows a little and holding his hands up. I gave him a look of bewilderment.

“What side do you think you’re on, Dean? Because this,” I gestured between us, “isn’t my good side.” He mumbled something incoherent as we got to the motel so I chose to ignore him completely.

“So what’s the plan? It’s getting late and we can’t really do anything now until that charity event taking place at the auction house tomorrow. We’re already pretty clued up on how to get rid of ghosts so there’s really not much to do except to get both your names on that guest list,” Sam patted his laptop, looking at both of us.

“Food?” Dean and I said at the same time.

“Food sounds good,” Sam nodded. The boys turned around to leave when I stopped them.

“Just whilst we’re still at the motel, I’m just going to freshen up real quick.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “really?” I flipped him the bird.

“I can just meet you there? There’s like only one diner in this town and I know the way. I won’t be long.” The brothers looked at each other for a few seconds before Sam looked at me and smiled.

“Sure ok, we’ll get a seat in the window so we can see you coming.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon,” I grinned at the younger Winchester before turning away and letting myself into my room.

I had the worlds quickest shower and threw on some clean underwear and a clean top, feeling better after getting the grime from the day off. I pulled on my jeans, socks and boots, applied a small amount of eyeliner and mascara and tidied my hair the best I could before slinging on my jacket and applying some perfume to my wrists and neck. It was one of my favourite scents: I’d bought it from some lingerie store a year or so ago and it’s apparently one of those aphrodisiac perfumes, however I have no idea if it even works or not. It’s probably a scam, nothing works that well in real life.

After I’d finished sorting myself out - which took no longer than half an hour - I grabbed my phone and keys and left the room, locking up before making my way towards the diner. Night had descended, the air turning cold against my warm skin and the usually busy streets now lay deserted and car-free. It was only about a five minute walk or so from the motel and I was now only about a minute away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. I’d caught a glimpse of a figure dressed from head to toe in black in the reflection of several shop windows, and they were following my exact trail. I sped up, walking faster down the empty main road and hoping it was all a coincidence as worst case scenarios started to race through my mind. It wasn’t long until the diner was in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief, however the relief was short lived when those footsteps were getting closer and closer, quicker and quicker right behind me. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a coincidence at all - I was definitely being stalked. I started to run, my legs moving before my brain had kicked into gear and I was only inches from the front door when the stranger caught up, slamming me against the wall of the building and putting a knife to my throat, covering my mouth with a gloved hand.

“Don’t make a fucking noise - you’re coming with me,” he said aggressively yet quietly. I could feel the blade of the knife pressing against the soft skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes, my breath turning shaky as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t even get any words out as his hand was too tight over my lips.

I wanted to cry out for help so badly it hurt.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that this was all a bad dream. My cheek was pushed into the rough brick which grazed my skin, and I silently prayed for my attacker to just let me go or for some hero to come and save me. At that very moment I heard the door to the diner and my eyes shot open, instantly connecting with Deans. I watched as surprise turned to horror which then turned to pure feral rage on his face and before I even had a chance to blink he was gone from my line of sight - but so was the pressure keeping me pinned against the wall. I spun around and I watched Dean throw the stalker to the floor with more force that I thought he could muster and tower over him. Dean didn’t say a word, but the stranger let out a sharp cry of pain as Dean instantly brought his boot down on his ribs. There was a CRACK. He did it again.

And again.

And again.

And then he got down and pinned my attacker flush against the tarmac before he brought a closed fist down on his face over and over and over again, cracking his jaw and breaking his nose. Dean didn’t stop until the man was totally unrecognisable and unresponsive. Standing up off of his limp body, he looked over to me, his furious, almost animalistic stare softening instantly, even through all the blood that now painted his face. He took one step towards me before my feet worked on their own and carried me straight to him. I put my arms out to reach for him and he grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest with zero hesitation, his arms circling me and his blood-soaked palms gently stroking my hair. I sobbed. I sobbed from the fear I felt, I sobbed for feeling like such a victim and I sobbed for the relief I now felt flooding my veins as Dean held me, not saying a word. Listening to his heartbeat with my ear to his chest, I felt so safe and secure that it made me want to sob even more.

*

Dean ended up taking me straight back to my room - he called Sam to tell him what had happened as he wasn’t going to be returning to the diner. I had my second shower of the day as soon as we returned, wanting to scrub everywhere that horrible man had touched. Whilst I was washing, Dean had headed back to his own room to shower off the layer of blood coating his skin. After I was satisfactorily clean, I dried myself and dressed in that old T-shirt I wore the night before, pulling on some fresh underwear and perching on the end of the bed. I picked up the remote and started mindlessly flicking through channels, hoping to find something to distract my racing brain.

I’d been sitting in the same position for around ten minutes when there was a gentle knock on the door. I held my breath as I got up and walked over, looking through the peephole. It was Dean. I released that breath as I opened the door and let him in. He’d changed from his usual gruff attire to something way more comfortable - a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He smiled at me. A kind smile, nothing like those teasing and sly ones we’d been throwing at each other since yesterday. This one was genuine, and it made my chest feel warm. He locked the door behind him as I padded back over to the bed and climbed on it, sitting right in the centre with my legs crossed. I pulled the T-shirt down to cover my dignity as Dean placed a carrier bag in front of me. I peeked inside. It was full to the brim of all different types of snacks and I grinned up at him.

“You sure do know how to treat a girl, Winchester.”

He let out a soft laugh and looked down at the floor before taking residence beside me.

“You’re the first one who thinks so”.

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a long line of women who definitely think otherwise,” he smiled a slightly sad smile. We both paused before I continued.

“Well if it means anything, what you did for me today, I-” he held a hand up to stop me as he saw the look of fear flit across my features again, the horrid memory bubbling to the surface.

“It was the least I could do,” he said softly before his brows furrowed, “but to be honest I should never have let you out of my sight.” The almost protective tone of his voice made my heart flutter a little, but It was my turn to reassure him as I placed my hand on his shoulder delicately.

“Dean, none of us knew that would happen. I know you wouldn’t have left me alone if you genuinely thought I was in danger - after all, you DID promise to keep me safe from my own shadow,” I flashed him a grin which he quickly returned, chuckling. We sat for a few moments in a strangely comfortable silence before there was another knock at the door. I went to get up to answer it but Dean beat me to it, swinging it open to show a very concerned Sam stood in the doorway. He looked at me with those big ever-worried eyes and I shot him my best ‘please don’t worry’ grin.

“I’m fine, Sam” I called out to him as I tried to listen in on the hushed words Dean was speaking. They conversed for a while, occasionally throwing glances at me as I rustled around in the bag of goodies Dean had supplied. Growing bored of not being involved with their conversation, I scooted back on the bed to lean back on the headboard and proceeded to flick through dozens of channels until I found something decent to watch. A few more minutes had passed and I’d munched my way through almost half a bag of Doritos when I heard the door close and it was just me and Dean again. He had a paper bag that Sam must’ve passed him, which he held up and pointed to.

“The blood stains came out of my clothes, although Sam said the people in the laundromat were giving him strange looks,” he laughed slightly, those striking eyes of his looking down into mine as he took a few steps closer. I laughed slightly, only imagining Sam’s awkwardness in that situation. I broke my gaze away from Dean for a few seconds, looking down at my hands before looking back up. I could tell he was hovering now, just waiting for me to say something.

“Dean I’m fine, you don’t have to stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if you need me to” his hand ran over the stubble on his chin, his eyes not leaving me.

“Really, I’m ok. I’m probably just going to sit here and watch whatever this is-”

“It’s obviously Men in Black,” Dean scoffed. I smiled, finding comfort in the familiar snarky remark.

“Obviously - I don’t live under a rock Dean,” I rolled my eyes as I stood up, placing my hands on his chest. He was so warm to the touch that it was almost enticing me not to let go. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat was so soothing. But I did let go, and I spun him around to start ushering him to the door. As he was leaving, I grabbed my half eaten bag of chips and started munching again. He opened the door, stepping outside.

“Go back to your room Dean. I promise I’m ok. I don’t want you both hovering over me constantly making sure I’m fine; that will just make me feel worse,” I said as he spun to face me, nodding his head.

“Back to normal. Got it.”

“Great,” I said, sucking the tangy chip dust from my thumb. Dean suddenly reached out and snatched the half-eaten bag from my hand before quickly walking away.

“I’ll see you in the morning!” He shouted back at me before shovelling food into his mouth.

“You ass! I was eating those!” He shrugged in an overly animated fashion, not bothering to turn and look at me as he continued towards his room. I sighed, closing the door and locking it, sliding the chain across this time too. I padded back towards the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I started to drift off, the buzz of the movie still playing in the background, I smiled a little to myself:

Fucking Winchester.

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Up Next:

Chapter 6

[miserable-sarah]

MASTERLIST

Supernatural:

Sam Winchester:

Caught (NEW) ~ Y/n needs to relax, Dean leaves and Sam takes the opportunity to help her. ~ 18+, NSFW, SMUT.

The Date ~ Y/n is getting ready for a big date with Sam, Sam surprises her at the date. ~ No warnings, very sweet story.

The Red Dust ~ Sam and Y/n go on a hunt together, it goes sideways and they get hit with a spell. Y/n needs release and doesn't know how to get it. ~ 18+, NSFW, MDNI, choking, smut.

What? ~ Rough sex with sam, a couple months later you find out you're pregnant and you tell him after a hunt. ~ 18+. NSFW, MDNI, pregnancy

Listen ~ You go on a bad hunt, a hunt you weren't supposed to go on. ~ 18+, Daddy Kink, NSFW

Bad Boy ~ Sam is possessed by a demon. A Vey hot Sam. ~18+, NSFW

Shy Sam ~ Sam likes you, Dean teases him about it. ~ No warnings.

Something New ~ Y/n is casually drinking at a bar, Souless sam approaches. ~ 18+, Souless Sam, mentions of killing/murder, NSFW

I'm Here ~ You get taken by Crowely, Sam finds you and saves you. ~ 18+, NSFW, Kidnapping, mentions of smut

Sammy ~ Sammys got a big crush on you. ~No warnings, just cute.

Hurt ~ You and Sam get hurt during a hunt, you get some days off together. ~ voilence, fluff.

Sam's Got A Crush ~ How Sam would act when he's got a crush. ~ Blurb, No warnings.

I Will Always Love You ~ Y/n is depressed. ~ Sad, language.

Party ~ You and Sam go to a party and play spin the bottle. ~ Teenage Sam and Reader (18), Drinking.

Are You Alright ~ You asked Sam to be more rough in bed. He delivers. ~ 18+, NSFW.

Dating Sam ~ Dating Sam ~ Blurb, No warnings.

Just Thinking ~ Y/n can't help but notice how good Sam looks. Y/n has a lot of dirty thoughts. ~ 18+, NSFW, mentions of sex.

For the First Time ~ Sam and Y/n meet through Donna. ~ No warnings.

Thank you ~ Sam hates the way Dean treats you, he takes you from Dean. ~ 18+, NSFW, Abuse.

I Have To Tell You ~ Y/n gets hurt on the hunt, Sam decides he needs to tell her how he truly feels. ~ Reader getting hurt.

Feel Loved ~ Y/n has bad luck with relationships, she's really lonely and wants to feel loved. ~ 18+, NSFW, drinking, bossy Sam, bossy y/n.

Sam? PT. 1 ~ Sam is a demon. ~ 18+, NSFW, Demon rough Sam <3.

Sam? PT. 2 (Final) ~ Demon Sam ~ 18+, NSFW, tied up.

Dean Winchester:

I Care (NEW) ~ Dean and Y/n break up, after a few months Dean saves her from a vamp nest. They make up. ~ 18+, NSFW

I'm Back! ~Y/n leaves randomly one day, Y/n is gone for 6 years. She comes back. Dean hasn't gotten over her leaving. ~ fighting, no other warnings.

I Dare You ~ Dean protects you. ~ No warnings.

Dean's Got A Crush ~ Dean's got a crush on you ~ Blurb, No warnings.

I've Missed You ~ You haven't seen Dean for 6 years, he left you. He didn't want you to get hurt. You run into him during a hunt. ~ 18+, smut

Dating Dean ~Dating dean ~ Blurb, No warnings.

Life Is Hard ~ Reader is depressed. ~ Sad

Time For Bed ~ quick little fluff. ~ No warnings.

Can I See Your Tattoo? ~ Y/n finally gets the nerve to make a move on Dean ~ 18+. NSFW

Just Go Away ~ Dean gets mad at Y/n after a hunt. ~ 18+, NSFW

Fucking Car ~ Y/n is mad because Dean spends all his time working on his car. ~ 18+

Finally ~Y/n and Dean have a crush on each other, the never tell each other. One day Y/n walks into the bathroom while Dean is in there, he takes control and kisses her. ~ 18+, smut, Loving Dean (warning for the heart. )

Lucky ~ Y/n gets kidnapped by Crowley, he tortures her trying to get info, Dean and Sam save her. Dean eventually tells her that he wants a life with her. ~ Voilence, torture, blood.

Please. ~ You wanted to dominate over Dean for once and he let you. ~ 18+, NSFW, sub Dean.

Sam, Dean, Prefrences:

NYE Parties ~ Sam and Dean's NYE ~ No warnings.

How He Would React ~ How he gets when you flirt with someone else. ~ 18+, NSFW

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes:

Mine (NEW) ~ Bucky is your boss, you always had a little crush on him. He has one on you too and he shows you. ~ 18+ only, NSFW, Smut, sir kink, Dom(Bucky).

I hate you ~ You and Bucky get stuck on a mission together 18+ ~ Smut mentioned, voilence, language.

You forgot me ~ Bucky gets controlled again, he forgets you. ~ Fighting, language.

Let's go on a date ~ You and Bucky meet in 1940, he takes you out on a date. You end up meeting again after he's taken. ~ Language.

Take Me Home ~ A guy hits on you, Bucky gets jealous. You find it hot and want him to take you home. ~ Smut, NSFW, choking, praising kink.

Date ~ Bucky takes you out on a date after being told by your cousin Clint. You and Bucky have a wonderful time. ~ NO warnings.

Never ~ Steve leaves you and Bucky helps you get through it. ~ Sad, death

Chris Evans/ Steve Rogers/ Lloyd Hansen:

Sunshine ~ Lloyd takes you. ~ NSFW, 18+, Blade kink, Daddy Kink, ect.

I Don't Really Give A Shit What You Want ~ Chris pisses you off so you give him the silent treatment. He gets back at you. ~ 18+, NSFW, rough.

Sit ~ Chris comes back from a trip very frustrated. ~ NSFW, 18+, ect.

Let's Stay ~ Steve wants to stay home. ~ No warnings.

Impressive (NEW) ~ Steve always has to be in control ~ 18+, NSFW

Thor:

I Need You ~ Thor comes back, he's sad, mad, and needy. ~ Smut, 18+.

I've Missed You. (NEW) ~ Thor comes back from Asgard, he shows you how much he's missed you. ~ 18+, NSFW, sweet but rough Thor.

[gothra]

I’m currently on a rewatch of Supernatural, and I’m noticing a parallel with an aspect of Eric Kripke’s other project, something that I didn’t notice or care about the first time(s) I watched the show, but now I can’t stop thinking about. This relates to Sam Winchester’s consumption of demon blood and character’s (Hughie’s especially) usage of Temp V, and the language pertaining to morality that surround both of these aspects of the story.

Spoilers incoming.

In the earlier seasons of Supernatural, we establish that Sam Winchester has psychic powers due to being giving a demon’s blood as an infant.

As an adult, Sam starts getting visions pertaining to what are now his growing psychic powers, it’s only until later in the early seasons that we learn that Sam has discovered a way to control demons, by drinking demon blood, which heightens his psychic powers.

The powers he has are very useful and they come in handy multiple times. Sam can exorcise demons with his mind, a job that, before the use of demon blood, was done with a long Latin spell (that usually had to be uttered while a demon was rocking their shit) or couldn’t be done at all, requiring Sam and Dean to kill demons with a special kind of knife. Exorcism is safer for the vessel, but difficult to do, and stabbing the demons is a bit easier (not including getting within stabbing range) but it kills the demon and the vessel, which, from time to time is still being inhabited by a poor human soul that is forced to watch as the demon uses their body to do despicable things. Sam’s powers save their lives, too. He can toss demons around like ragdolls, too, and THAT comes in handy, too.

Sam’s powers are fucking cool. Not just that, they’re nearly a net positive.

Sam’s powers don’t really have a serious downside. It really seems like they would have written a severe downside into something so extreme as drinking demon blood, but they didn’t! No physical side-effects, meaning Sam’s physical body does not change, chafe, rot, or fall off every time he drinks the blood. He doesn’t hallucinate or get sick or get crazy headaches when he drinks it, just when he uses his psychic powers, and it hurts less the more he uses them. The only time he experiences physical side-effects is when he suffers from withdrawals from it. It doesn’t really alter his personality outside of the stress of hiding it and the shame of drinking it, which is to be expected. Like my friend Tyler said, “It doesn’t even make him bitchy, like when he was soulless”. There’s not even any moral problems with the method that Sam uses to collect demon blood. He drinks the blood of a demon he’s in a sexual relationship with, and she consents and encourages him to do so. He doesn’t run around kidnapping random demons and bleeding them until their vessels have run dry. He doesn’t have to do anything bad to get the demon blood. Sam doesn’t even need to drink a lot of it to deal with the demons they typically run into. Sure, he’s had to drink a lot more when it’s a bigger demon, but I wouldn’t expect anything less.

So, you can imagine my confusion upon rewatch when I realized that nobody else seemed to be on board. It would be understandable if they were tentative, or awkward or even squicked out by the blood aspect. But basically everyone Sam tells about his powers is disappointed in or angry at Sam for drinking demon blood. Mind you, this storyline is coming at a place in the Supernatural story where demons are running rampant. Sam is being mentally plagued by the demon that dropped blood into his mouth as an infant, all while he’s working with the demon who gives him the blood and helps him with his powers to take down an even bigger demon. It’s demons all the way down, yet, everyone takes the time out of their busy demon-slaying schedule to admonish Sam for drinking the blood and using his powers to help out.

Let me tell you, it’s maddening, watching people get angry at the wrong thing. It’s maddening to watch people apologize for doing something good because someone else has decided that their wrath is more important. Dean (Sam’s brother) has Sam in a moral chokehold the entire season, lecturing him, insulting him, pushing Sam aside for something that ultimately is nothing more than Dean’s personal issue. And because it’s Dean’s personal issue and Dean is a narrative favorite, his emotional and psychological needs are ultimately more important. Often, Sam doesn’t get what he deserves. His character experiences (literally) soul-destroying setbacks, and still, he is made to feel bad for doing something, when the benefits of that thing far outweigh the positives, and the negatives of that thing come off as a noble sacrifice.

You’d think I would get tired of talking about how much of a let down Season 3 of the boys is. But I got a burst of renewed energy once I realized I had something to talk about that intersected in a way that I could actually witness with my own eyes. Do I regret getting pulled back into SPN? A little bit. But, here’s the point of this:

Hughie and Sam play the same role in their respective stories. They are two people who have been deeply hurt, traumatized, damaged, and who desperately want to do some good. They both want to make a difference and make a dent in their missions.

Temp V is different than demon blood. This time, Kripke added side-effects. But the side-effects of Temp V don’t change the fact that the benefits of using it are obvious and immediate. When Butcher and Hughie use Temp V, important things happen. They came close to killing Homelander, just a pinch away. It worked. The thing that they were using the drugs for almost happened. So, denying its usefulness would be pointless.

This time, Kripke learned from his mistake. Sam didn’t experience any negative side-effects, and his personality changes seemed to be due to the stress of hiding it from his brother and constantly arguing about and attempting to justify his actions. The benefits outweighed the negatives. Hughie, on the other hand, experienced a remarkable (some would say, completely unbelievable and out of character) personality shift. Suddenly, his motives were different, ego-driven, selfish, and they tainted his actions, turning them from moral and noble, to self-centered. In Hughie’s case, the negatives and the positives are placed on an equal scale, in my opinion, by force. I think that the personality changes that they wrote for Hughie are absolutely not fitting at all, but were put in place because if they weren’t there, anyone who thought about it for more than one minute would realize that admonishing Hughie for his use of a helpful super drug is stupid. If Hughie only experienced the brain damage, he could be considered noble and brave for what he was doing. It would be tragic that he’d have to stop, and if he considered continuing to use the drug to take down Homelander after he learned about the side effects, it would endear us to Hughie and his self-sacrifice. If he only experiences the psychological side-effects, than we can even the score, then his selfishness could be enough to paint his use of Temp V as bad, as if his selfishness alone is enough to overwrite or match the immediate benefit to the mission, as if Hughie’s personal morals being in jeopardy outweigh the fact that their goal is to kill a maniacal rapist who, if given the chance, WILL kill them all, and ANYONE who stands in his way or upsets him or makes him feel inferior.

For both Sam and Hughie, they are being positioned against characters who should be considered wrong, and who should be confronted with their wrongness and never are, because their feelings on the issue, likely act as a stand-in for Eric’s feelings, and therefore, they become the narrative favorite. Dean is the suave, handsome womanizer with the gruff, yet charming personality and combat skills, and Sam is his brother. Annie is the Strong Female Character, who defies everyone because Eric needs to prove he knows how to create good female characters (he hasn’t proved that) and Hughie is her boyfriend.

Ultimately the similarities are striking. I’ve got many ideas about the reasons why Eric wrote Season 3 this way, and why he wrote Sam’s story like that, and the likelihood of these reasons increase and decrease the more I think about each of them, but that’s a separate issue and I’m very tired 😞

@deliciouskeys and @bisexualhomelander how did I do?

[bored-writer101]

Sam Winchester X Reader|Supernatural Rewrite|1.Pilot

A/N: well, the time has finally come. i’m finally posting my supernatural rewrite😂 huge shoutout to @uncouth-the-fifth for inspiring me (she also has a supernatural rewrite that is absolutely phenomenal that you guys should definitely go check out). i’ve been trying to start a rewrite basically ever since i started writing fanfic for this show, but it has never worked out. but i’ve finally figured it out! (kinda lol, i’m doing my best😂😭). i hope you all enjoy! (i wrote this with female reader in mind but i use gender neutral pronouns) {also here’s a supernatural themed spotify playlist if y’all want a soundtrack while you listen <3}

Words: 13,673

Series Masterlist

(image from pinterest)

SIOUX FALLS, SOUTH DAKOTA | October 31st, 2005

"Dad? Are you okay? Dad, please wake up! Dad!"

You jolted upright in bed, panting as you tried to catch your breath and calm yourself down. You didn't get much of a chance to do that though. Your phone began to ring loudly from your bedside table, making you flinch. You reached out and fumbled around in the darkness for a few seconds before your fingers wrapped around the cold metal. You used your thumb to flip it open and held it up to your ear.

"Hello?" you could hear the shake in your own voice.

"Are you alright? Did I call at a bad time?" you immediately recognized the voice on the other end.

"I'm alright, Dean. I just had a nightmare, that's all."

"The usual one?"

"Mhm," you hummed in response.

"Well, we can do all our usual remedies after I pick you up," you could hear in his voice that he had a huge grin on his face.

"What? I thought you were in New Orleans?"

"I was. I had been waitin' on my dad, but he never showed. I haven't been able to get a hold of him for a few weeks," Dean told you.

"So? There were plenty of times that we weren't able to get a hold of him on a hunt when we were kids," you said, skeptical that John was truly missing.

John had always been one to drink a few too many in celebration of a hunt well done. You, Sam, and Dean would think something terrible had happened to him, but he would eventually stumble back in a few weeks later. The longest he had left the three of you alone was almost three months. Bobby stopped letting John take you on hunts after he found out about that.

"This is different. Somethin's happened, somethin' bad, if he's not dead already. I can feel it."

"Are you sure he's not just out on another bender?" you asked, disbelief evident in your tone.

"I'm sure, Y/N. I can explain more after I pick you up. Please, I need you to trust me on this," Dean pleaded through the phone.

You were hesitant to say yes. Usually you'd hop at the chance to go on a hunt with Dean, but this was different. You could hear in his voice that Dean believed that John was missing, and that he was worried. You trusted Dean, but you didn't trust his father. It could be another one of his 'hunter trials' to test if you were worthy to be hunters. He hadn't orchestrated one of those in a long time, but maybe that meant you were due for another one.

"Y/N? You still there?" Dean asked when you didn't respond.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm still here. Just thinkin'."

"Ya' really gotta think that hard about it?"

There was another moment of silence while you desperately tried and failed to find the words. You had so many thoughts swirling in your mind that you didn't even know where to start. Before you could complain that you had just woken up, Dean's voice was in your ear again.

"Come on, Y/N," he was not helping you think.

"Fine! I'll come with you," you relented, giving in to the sad puppy dog eyes you couldn't see, but you knew he was doing.

"Well, good... Because I'm only an hour and a half away," you heard him chuckle, and you decided you were going to smack him upside the head when he got here.

"And what were you gonna do if I said no?" you questioned.

"Kidnap you. Obviously."

"Like I'd let you."

"Whatever you say, kid," he said with a chuckle. "Just be packed and ready, alright?"

"Whatever you say, boss," you mocked him playfully, "See you when you get here."

"See you when I get there," he said, ignoring your teasing.

You heard the click of the call ending, then silence. You were frozen in place at first, and the memories of your nightmare came flooding back; your father's eyes closing and never opening again... You shook your head free of the image before finally dropping your hand holding the phone into your lap. The light from the still open screen hurt your eyes as they tried to adjust to the sudden light. You sat there for a few more seconds before pushing the covers off and forcing yourself out of bed. You got dressed in comfy clothes, knowing that you'd be spending a lot of time curled up in the passenger seat of the impala.

You tried to be quiet as you crept around the house, but you should have known better than to try and sneak around a hunter's home. You were leaned down in front of the open fridge, thinking of what to write on the 'see you later' note you were going to leave behind, when you heard someone clear their throat. You stood up straight and spun around quickly to face them. Bobby had his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you with a deep frown, and furrowed brows that made the creases in his forehead all too prominent.

"Good morning?" you said hesitantly.

"Where are you going?" Bobby asked; he had never been one for nuance.

"Um, out on a hunt," you told him with a little more confidence than before.

Even though you were twenty three, Bobby's gaze made you feel like you were sixteen again. It made you feel as if you were sneaking out to meet Sam and Dean for a late night joyride in whatever rust bucket that Dean had found(hot wired). You knew Bobby wasn't going to stop you from going, but you still didn't want to piss him off before you left. You weren't sure when you'd be back.

"Dean picking you up?" he asked, his tone a bit softer than before, but he was still frowning.

You nodded at his question, "he should be here soon."

"Alright, well, just promise me you'll be careful. And that you won't let Dean talk you into anything stupid," Bobby wagged his pointer finger at you as he said this.

"I'm always careful," you told him, even if that wasn't entirely truthful, but you'd say anything to reassure Bobby you'd be alright; the last thing you wanted him to do was worry his head off, "also I'm usually the one talking Dean out of doing anything stupid," this statement had a little more truth to it.

Bobby didn't look convinced. Not that he ever did, but you didn't want to leave him annoyed with you. You took a couple steps forward and wrapped your arms around him in a sudden hug. It didn't take long before Bobby hugged you back, squeezing you tight.

"I love you, dad. I'll be back before you know it."

Bobby sighed deeply, "I love you too, kiddo," he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

Bobby wasn't your biological father, but he had stepped up and been your dad for over a decade. Any other day, he would have scolded you for calling him dad. He would tell you it isn't fair to your father, that you shouldn't try to forget or replace him. You always reassured him you would never forget though. What you don't tell him is that you'll never be able to forget the image of father dying in your arms as you beg for him to keep his eyes open. Before you could dwell on the dark memory for too long, you heard a short honk of a car horn outside. You pulled away and stood up straight in front of Bobby, raising a brow at him as if to silently ask, 'you gonna be alright?'

"Just go. Don't forget to call every once in a while so I know you're still alive" Bobby gestured toward the door.

"I will," you said as you walked to the front door, picking your duffel bag up off the floor, "bye, Bobby," you turned and waved to him with a smile, opting to not call him dad this time.

"Bye, Y/N," he waved back halfheartedly.

You turned back and headed out the front door, a rush of cold air biting at your exposed skin. If you were gone long enough, there would surely be a thick blanket of snow covering the junk yard by the time you got back. You noticed the impala in the driveway before looking up at the sky. You shut the door behind you as you admired the fiery shades of red and orange that were painted across the sky by the sunrise. You admired it for a moment before stepping down the porch steps. The gravel crunched under your boots as you walked over to the passenger side of the impala. You opened the back door and threw duffel bag in before getting into the passenger seat.

"Morning," you said to Dean once you had plopped down.

"Mornin'," he replied, wasting no time in pulling out of the driveway and back onto the road, gravel crunching loudly under the tires all the while, "I brought you some breakfast," he pointed to the fast food bag sitting on the seat next to you.

"Thanks," you mumbled as you grabbed the bag and pulled out the breakfast sandwich Dean had ordered for you.

You unwrapped your food and ate silently, the only sound coming from the Bob Seger tape that was playing softly through the speakers. You recognized the song to be Against The Wind. You thought back to the last time you saw Dean, and you realized it had been a few months. You kept in touch over the phone the best you could, but he had never been good at that, and you weren't much better. The last time you had seen him was about four months ago. You had gotten into a fight over John. Most of your fights revolved around him. It had been a simple misunderstanding during a hunt that made John flip his shit, and you were never one to take shit from him. Dean had barely made a move to defend you, and it hurt. He had apologized to you later, but it had been a Winchester style apology; a halfhearted one. You couldn't help but remember that fight now. Dean cleared his throat loudly, pulling you out of your thoughts. His thumbs drummed against the steering wheel has he hummed along to the music. You crumpled up the sandwich paper and threw it in the bag.

"So, we have a few stops to make," he told you with a grin, obviously trying to diffuse the building tension.

"Oh, yeah?" you replied, raising a questioning brow at him.

"Yeah, the first being a gas station. You can pick out some snacks for our drive."

"Good, because you always grab barbecue chips," you complained teasingly.

"What's wrong with a little BBQ?" he said, enunciating each letter in 'BBQ.'

"There's nothing necessarily wrong with barbecue, but eating them for every road trip can get a little boring."

"Fair enough. You still have to grab me a bag of them though."

"Yeah, will do."

Dean pulled off the main road and into the gas station parking lot. He pulled up to a gas pump and turned off the engine. He took out a few fives from his wallet and handed them to you. You said a quiet 'thanks' before you both climbed out of the impala.

"Don't forget my BBQ!" Dean called after you as you headed into the convenience store while he went to the gas pump.

It was only a few minutes before the two of you were back in your seats. You handed Dean his barbecue chips and a root beer before dropping your own snacks in your lap. Dean tore into his chips like a hungry bear, grabbing a handful and stuffing it into his mouth. You couldn't help but laugh at him as you opened your own snack.

"So, you gonna tell me why you think John is missing?" you asked, once he had chewed and swallowed.

"I know he's missing. He was hunting something that was killing men, and he left me a concerning voicemail that had some EVP," he explained, "I can let you listen to it when we get to our next destination," you furrowed your brows at his words, but you had a sudden realization.

"You wanna pick up Sam," you said simply.

Dean looked over at you with wide eyes, "how'd you know? You read my mind or somethin'?"

"We're gonna be in California, and we're gonna pass his place anyway. Just an educated guess," you shrugged, "also I'm not a mind reader, I'm a medium," you added.

"It's all the same to me," Dean said with a shrug as he started the impala and pulled out of the gas station; you decided not to lecture him on the differences between psychics and mediums.

"What if he says no?" you asked the question on both your minds after a few moments of silence.

Dean didn't respond, but you knew he had heard you. You looked over to see him expressionless, staring out at the open road.

"Dean?"

"You sure you're not a mind reader?" he tried to joke to change the subject, but you didn't laugh, and he frowned at your furrowed brows, "he won't. Dad's missing and we need his help. He has to say yes," you wondered how many time he had told himself that.

You were at an impasse, which frequently happened when you had to get in the middle of Winchester family drama. A part of you didn't want Sam to say yes. You knew he wanted to give up hunting for good, and you didn't blame him. You only wanted what was best for him, but there was another part of you that wanted him to say yes. You missed him every day. You tried to tell yourself you weren't pulling him all the way back into hunting, that you were just looking for John. A small voice in the back of your head knew better though. You knew this life loved to sink its claws in and never let go. Only a lucky few were able to fully detach themselves from the hunting lifestyle. Even then, it was impossible to scrub the stain of the hunting life off your hands. You weren't sure which answer you wanted Sam to give.

You and Dean sat in silence for awhile, both caught up in your own thoughts. You glanced over at Dean as the song that was playing came to an end. You took in Dean's tense posture, and how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. You recognized the beginning of Black Dog by Led Zeppelin playing quietly through the speakers, and you immediately reached out to turn it up. You were the only person Dean allowed to touch his radio. You rested your arm on the back of the seat and leaned your body into his side slightly.

"Hey hey mama said the way you move. Gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove," you sang along loudly into his ear.

You played the air guitar and you saw Dean glance at you from the corner of his eye. You could see him trying to hide his smirk.

"Ah, ah, child, way you shake that thang. Gonna make you burn gonna make you sting," you continued to sing along, gently nudging Dean's side with your elbow.

You saw him start to drum his thumbs against the steering wheel along to the beat as you continued to play air guitar.

"Hey hey baby when you walk that way. Watch your honey drip, can't keep away," you and Dean sang in unison.

You sang along to the rest of the song together. You occasionally played air guitar while Dean pretended to play the drums; you had to remind him to put his hands back on the wheel a few times. The song eventually came to an end, and the next song began playing. Dean reached out and turned it down slightly.

"I missed that," you said with a smile.

"Oh, don't get all sappy on me now," he said with a groan.

"What? No 'chick flick moments'?" you said sarcastically, making air quotes.

"Yeah, exactly. No chick flick moments," Dean repeated seriously.

"Whatever you say... Jackass," you said quietly with a smirk.

"Shithead," Dean was quick with his comeback, and he reached over to pinch your side, but you quickly swatted his hand away while laughing.

There wasn't much tension between you to begin with, but the little bit that had been there faded away with the end of the song. The rest of the long ride was filled with boring games of eye spy and spotting out of state license plates. You were glad to be in the impala with Dean again. You wished it was under better circumstances, but you were excited to see Sam again too.

PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA

The sun had long since set by the time you arrived at Sam's apartment building. You had your window rolled down, the humid California night air made your exposed skin feel sticky, but you enjoyed the breeze. Dean pulled into the parking lot and parked up close to the front door of the building. You both unbuckled your seatbelts, but he put his hand out to stop you from opening your door.

"I'll go get him," he said with a mischievous grin on his face, so you nodded and sat back in your seat, "I'll be quick," he said before hopping out of the impala.

You watched Dean creep up to the front door of the building before he slinked inside and out of view. You leaned out of your open window to take in a deep breath of fresh air. It wasn't a great time to be alone with your thoughts, since all you could think about was that you were seeing Sam again after two years. You had kept in touch over the phone, but it wasn't the same as meeting up in person. Living almost across the country from each made it hard to hang out. At least that's what you told yourself. Sam had asked you to come visit a few months ago, but you had declined. You didn't think you'd be able to face him alone.

You didn't have to be left alone for long though. Before you knew it, you could hear the distant sounds of the brothers bickering. You knew those sounds all too well. You could hear them arguing about something, but you couldn't make you any words. You were about to yell at them to come out when the door finally opened. Dean came out first, Sam following close behind. Sam was gesturing wildly with his arms as he spoke, and Dean rolled his eyes. You opened the door and stepped out of the impala, causing both of them to turn and look at you.

"Y/N?" Sam uttered the moment he saw you.

You smiled wide as you shut the passenger door and started walking towards him. It only took Sam a few strides to meet you in the middle with open arms. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight and almost lifting you up off the ground. You stood on your tip toes and hugged him back just as tight, cherishing your first hug after two years apart.

"It's so good to see you," Sam said before pulling away; his smile was gentle and sweet, and you forgot how much you had missed those dimples of his.

"I didn't get a hug when I picked you up," you heard Dean mumble from behind you.

You turned away from Sam to face him. He was stood there pouting slightly with his arms crossed over his chest. You shook your head with an amused smile.

"Oh, sorry Dean. Did you want a hug? I can give you one too," you said a bit teasingly, but only because no matter what answer he gave, you were hugging him.

"No, it's fine-" you had your arms wrapped around his middle before he could finish speaking.

You hugged him tight, and he wrapped his arms loosely around you. He gave you a quick squeeze before patting you softly on the back. You pulled away and he shook his head at you with a small smile before turning towards the trunk.

"Anyway," he mumbled before popping the trunk and lifting the spare tire hatch inside to reveal all his hunting equipment, "where the hell did I put that thing?" he said to himself as he rummaged around the trunk.

"So, when dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asked as he leaned against the side of the impala to watch Dean rifle through the disorganized mess.

"I was workin' my own gig. This voodoo thing down in New Orleans" Dean replied without looking up.

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Sam asked, incredulously.

"I'm 26, dude," Dean deadpanned, and you laughed.

Sam looked over at you with raised brows, which made you laugh even harder, "shut up, both o' ya's. Alright, found it," Dean picked up a small manila folder and pulled a small stack of papers out.

"Dad was checking out this two lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy-" Dean handed Sam a piece of paper off the top of the stack; Sam took it and held it out for both of you to see, "they found his car but he'd vanished; completely M.I.A.," there was a photo of a middle aged man next to an article about his disappearance.

"Maybe he was kidnapped?" Sam suggested.

"Kidnapped by a ghost maybe," you joked as you nudged Sam with your elbow.

"Yeah, here's another one in April, another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92," Dean slid a paper off the stack for each year he said, "ten of 'em over the past twenty years," he reached out and snatched the paper from Sam's hand, throwing it back on the stack, "all men, all same 5 mile stretch of road. Started happening more and more, so dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough, and then I get this voicemail yesterday."

Dean reached out and grabbed a tape recorder from off the top of the mess. He pressed play and you could hear John's voice come through the speaker, but it was staticky and garbled.

"Dean.... something-starting to happen...-think it's serious... I need t-... figure out what's going on... Be very careful, Dean.... We're all in danger...," a chill went up your spine as you listened to the message.

"You know there's EVP on that?," Sam said the moment Dean pressed pause.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike, isn't it?" Dean said with an amused smirk, and Sam only shook his head at him.

You couldn't focus on their banter, because you knew what was coming next. You stared expectantly down at the tape recorder in Dean's hand. You saw him glance at you in your peripheral.

"You think you'll be able to get anything from a recording?" Dean asked. 

"I might get something, we'll just have to see," you replied with a shrug.

"Alright," Dean said before pressing play again.

"I can never go home..." a woman whispered through the static, and you felt another chill up your spine, but this time it was accompanied by a wave of grief and intense anger.

Your hands gripped the edge of the trunk so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Dean looked over at you expectantly but you shook your head at him.

"Nothing helpful," you muttered as you continued to shake your head back and forth, trying to shake away the invasive feelings.

"It's alright," Dean reached out and rubbed your back soothingly for a moment before tossing the tape recorder back into the trunk.

Sam quickly took Dean's place as he wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders and rubbed your bicep gently. Dean closed the trunk and stood up tall. He looked up at Sam expectantly, who only sighed deeply. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your cheek.

"Alright. I'll go," Sam said finally, "I'll help you find him, but I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here," he let his arm fall from around your shoulders and you shivered at the loss of his warmth.

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asked as Sam turned to head back to his apartment.

"I have an interview," Sam said simply as he turned back to look at Dean.

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate" Sam explained slowly.

"Law school?" Dean asked with a questioning smirk.

"We got a deal or not?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's question.

"Yeah, fine," Dean said after a moment of silence, and you noticed him clench his jaw in annoyance.

Sam nodded and turned to head back into his apartment building. Dean sat on the closed trunk and looked over at you with furrowed brows.

"Did you know about this law school thing?" he asked you.

"Yeah, I did," you told him, honestly.

"You guys talk regularly or something?" you heard a tinge of jealousy in his tone.

"Not all that regularly. We just update each other on major life events occasionally," that wasn't entirely true, but you'd rather not have to sit in a car with the brothers being silently angry at each other.

Dean didn't say anything else, instead he looked down at the ground and nudged a rock with his shoe. You knew Sam and Dean hadn't talked since Sam had left for college. Dean missed his little brother, and you didn't blame him. You just wanted to smack him upside the head for being so stubborn. He certainly wasn't the only Winchester you wanted to knock some sense into.

Sam came back down a few minutes later, emerging from the door of his apartment building carrying a duffel bag that mirrored your own. He tossed his in the trunk as you opened the door to the backseat. Dean furrowed his brows in confusion as he opened the drivers door.

"You don't want shotgun? You had it first, you're welcome to it."

"Nah, I'm alright. Sam always gets shotgun anyway," you said, and Sam shot you a grateful look.

You smiled back at him before getting into the backseat. You pushed your duffel bag to the floor, then you slid to sit in the middle seat, like you always did when it was the three of you. The brothers got into their respective seats before Dean started the impala.

"Alright, get comfortable kids," Dean said as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

A FEW MILES OUTSIDE JERICHO, CALIFORNIA

Your eyes fluttered open to the sound of a car door opening and closing. You blinked rapidly as you tried to let your eyes adjust to the sudden light. You lifted your head up off your makeshift pillow that you had made from your balled up jacket. You rubbed your sore neck as you cursed yourself for forgetting a spare blanket or pillow. You somehow always forgot to bring one.

You looked around at the scenery outside the impala. Not that there was much scenery to speak of. It was a clear day, no clouds to block the sun's warm rays. You turned to your left to see a rickety old convenience store, then turned to the right to see a couple gas pumps that looked like they had seen better days. Sam had his door propped open with his foot as he went through Dean's box of cassette tapes that sat on his lap. You could imagine the disgusted face he was making at all of Dean's classic rock tapes. The warm breeze felt refreshing as you worked on waking up.

"Hey," you heard Dean call out, and you turned to your right to see him through the window, "you want breakfast?" he asked Sam, holding up a few beef sticks and a bag of chips; your stomach growled as you saw the food in his hands.

"No, thanks," Sam said, shaking his head before going back to the box of tapes, "so, how'd you pay for that stuff? You and dad still running credit card scams?" Sam called out to Dean.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean replied as he placed the nozzle back in the gas pump.

"You guys probably shouldn't be talking so loud about hunting and credit card scams," you said, loud enough so Dean could hear from outside the car.

The drivers side door opened a moment later and Dean climbed inside, continuing to talk loudly, having not heard or cared about your advice. You looked around and realized there didn't seem to be anyone else at the gas station. You just hoped the clerk didn't hear Dean's noisy confession.

"Y'know, all we do is apply for the cards. It's not our fault they send 'em."

You rolled your eyes at him. He set a soda down in the cup holder, and you reached out and snatched a beef stick from his hand. Dean silently handed you a bottle of water that you hadn't even seen him holding. You took it gratefully before setting it down next to you so you could rip open the wrapper of the beef stick.

"What names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asked, a bit quieter, taking your advice as he swung his long legs back into the car and pulled the door shut.

"Uh, Burt Aframian. And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal," Dean said as he turned the keys in the ignition.

"That sounds about right," Sam said before looking back down at the box of cassette tapes in his lap, "I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection," he said with a sigh.

"Why?" you almost laughed at how defensive Dean sounded.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two-" Sam paused, grabbing a cassette and holding it up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" he held up a cassette for each band he named, "it's the greatest hits of mullet rock," you were a little offended, considering the fact that you loved those bands too, but you knew Sam was only teasing Dean.

"House rules, Sammy," Dean grabbed the Metallica tape from Sam's hand, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole," you couldn't stop your laughter as Dean slotted the tape into the radio and pressed play.

Dean dropped the cassette case back in the box before he reached out and snatched the box from Sam. He tossed it back to you. You caught it with ease, setting it in the seat next to you. You smiled at the masking tape labels and crude handwriting on a majority of them. You spotted one that read 'Happy 21st B-Day D!' and it made you smile.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam started, ignoring your giggles as he turned to Dean, "it's Sam, okay?" he demanded, but in a gentle way that only he could manage.

The music had already began to play, Battery playing softly through the speakers. Dean reached out and slowly turned the knob to increase the volume. Dean raised his voice along with the music.

"Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud!" Dean said as he pulled out of the gas station and back onto the highway.

CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY, CALIFORNIA

Sam gave you the task of calling the hospital in the area for anyone matching John's description, while he called the morgue. It didn't take very long before you hung up the phone, having received the information you needed. You noticed a sign that read 'JERICHO 7' whiz by as Sam ended his call.

"Alright, so there's no one matching dad at the morgue."

"Or the hospital," you added.

"So that's something, I guess," Sam said.

You suddenly felt your chest tighten, and your heartbeat quickened as you seemed to be nearing a bridge. You could see it in the distance, and the only clouds in the sky covered the entire length of it. The dark clouds contrasted against the blue sky. You felt your heart drop at the sight of police cars parked near the bridge. Dean seemed to notice too as he glanced at Sam, then back at the road ahead. You could see a couple cops stood around a blue car that was parked sideways, blocking off the bridge.

"Check it out," Dean said as you neared the action.

Sam leaned forward with narrowed eyes to try to make out more details. As you got closer, it felt like a hand was being wrapped around your throat. You shivered despite the warm California air that was making you sweat. Dean pulled off on the side of the road a couple yards away from the bridge, and you were finally able to take a deep breath. There was a cloud of death that hung over that bridge.

You all sat there and watched for a few moments before Dean turned off the impala. Suddenly, he reached over and opened the glovebox. He grabbed out a small box full of fake ID cards that had his and John's pictures on them. You sighed and leaned back in your seat.

"They're gonna get suspicious if all three of us go up," you said as Dean rifled through the box.

"Then stay in the car," he answered quickly, not looking up.

"I have to get to the bridge to get anything."

"Then just go to the edge of the bridge and do your thing while Sam and I go talk to them," Dean said as he pulled out an ID from the pile before shoving the box back in the glovebox, "let's go," he said as he opened his door and climbed out of the impala.

Sam turned to you with his mouth hung open in surprise, "fake ID's? Really?" he asked, obviously annoyed with Dean.

"They're helpful," you said with a nod, "I don't like using them all that much, though," you added quickly when he shook his head disapprovingly. 

The air felt heavy as you stepped out of the impala. You couldn't pinpoint how many people had died on that bridge, but you knew it had to be many. At least one, by the looks of the empty car and confused looking cops. Sam's door shutting loudly made you force yourself to start walking. You and Sam caught up with Dean, and you took your usual place in-between the brothers, walking quickly to keep in stride with them.

"You guys find anything?" you heard a man on the right side of the bridge yell down to what you assumed were men combing the river.

"No! Nothing!" was the distant and echoed response.

Once you reached the beginning of the bridge, you slowed and departed from the brothers, heading to the left. Sam and Dean continued walking toward the blue car and the cops. You heard them begin talking with the officers, but their voices faded away as you neared the edge of the bridge. You reached out and placed your hands on the railing, using them to brace yourself as you leaned over to look down into the rushing river water.

A wave of anger washed over you, similar to the one you had felt before, when you listened to the EVP on John's voicemail. It was accompanied by a bitter sadness, and this time it was much more intense. It suddenly shifted into grief, then all you felt was cold, as if someone had dumped a bucket of the river water on your head. You shivered as a name appeared in your mind. You turned quickly to look for Sam and Dean, spotting them walking back toward the start of the bridge. You began to speed walk over to them. You watched Dean take step in front of Sam, and turned to face him as they stopped walking. They looked like they are arguing again. You shook your head as you stomped over.

"I need a pen," you demanded as you walked up to them.

"Woah, are you okay?" Sam said as he look at you, concern etched into his features.

"I'm fine, I just need a pen," you repeated, "I got a name."

"Y/N, you're crying," Sam said as he pulled his sleeve up over his thumb and wiped your left cheek while you reached up and wiped you right; sure enough there was a trail were tears had streamed down your face.

"I didn't even know I was. I don't think it was really me crying, anyway. She made me feel how she felt before she died, if that makes any sense," you rambled on as Sam wiped the rest of your tears away before taking a step back, and you didn't fail to notice the raised eyebrow look Dean gave you and Sam.

You were about to raise your hand to hit Dean on the arm, but you heard an authoritative voice come from your right that stopped you, "can I help you three?"

You turned to see the sheriff with two tall FBI agents standing behind him. All three of them stared down at you through their sunglasses. You typically didn't let cops rattle you, but the FBI were a different story. You did your best to stand up tall and stare them down right back. The sheriff looked the three of you over, his eyes landing on you.

"No, sir. We were just leaving," Dean told him.

The FBI agents didn't seem to have time for you, as they ignored Dean and walked around him, "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully," Dean joked as they passed him.

You wound back and slapped him in the arm. He laughed and rubbed his bicep as the three of you walked past the sheriff. You could feel his eyes on you as you left. Dean finally pulled out a pen and handed it to you as you walked back to the impala. You spread out your palm and wrote down the name you had been given earlier.

"Constance Welch," you said to them as you held your hand out for both of them to see.

"Who's that?" Dean asked.

"The girl who made me cry," you tried to make a joke out of it, but Sam's lips pressed into a thin line, and his brows furrowed; he never liked when the ghosts affected you like that, "I think she's the spirit that's killing the guys," you added, quickly.

"Well, we'll have to go dig up some more information. They mentioned something about the girlfriend of the kid who died. We can go talk to her and ask her a couple questions, try to figure out why he was killed," Dean explained as the three of you got into the impala.

"Are we gonna go wave fake badges in her face?" you asked, not sure if that was the best idea, "maybe Sam and I can talk to her while you go look up Constance," you suggested, and Dean glanced at you in the rearview mirror before nodding.

"Alright, fine. But I better not get stuck with the busywork next time," he said with a huff.

JERICHO, CALIFORNIA

The sidewalks were mostly empty as the impala slowly rolled down the main road of town. It was still fairly early in the day, but you expected more people to be out. It was the weekend after all. When you saw the sign above the closed movie theater, it made sense why the streets were mostly barren. 'EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING; SUNDAY 8 PM; BE SAFE OUT THERE,' was the message to all the townsfolk.

"I'll bet you that's her," Dean nodded to a girl taping a pink paper on the brick wall just to the left of the theater.

Dean drove a few more feet before pulling up to the side of the road. You and Sam hopped out, and you leaned down to look at Dean through the open passenger door.

"I'll call you when we're done," you told him and he nodded.

You stood up straight and Sam shut his door. You turned and walked the few steps toward the girl. You tried not to seem too intimidating, but with Sam standing at 6'4, that was a bit of a challenge. You hoped his young face and signature puppy dog eyes would help your cause. She taped a missing poster to the wall that read 'MISSING TROY SQUIRE' underneath a smiling photo of Troy. You noticed the other missing posters that were hung up too, and you quickly realized they were all of the pervious victims you had seen in Dean's file.

"You must be Amy," you said as you approached her.

"Yeah," she replied flatly, not looking up as she secured the paper to the wall with another piece of tape.

"Yeah, Troy must have told you about us. I'm his aunt Y/N, and this is his uncle Sam," you explained to the girl with a smile.

"He never mentioned you to me," she said before turning and walking away, but you were quick to walk in stride with her.

"Well, that's Troy I guess," you said, adding in a fake chuckle, "we're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"We're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around," Sam said as he took a step in front of her to stop her from walking any further.

Another girl came up to Amy, gently placing a hand on her arm, "hey, are you okay?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Amy said with a nod, never taking her eyes off Sam.

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?" he asked her, and she nodded.

Amy and her friend, who introduced herself as Rachel, led you down the street to a diner. It was mostly empty, other than an older couple sitting at a booth in the back right. You also noticed a seemingly bored waitress standing by the counter. She barely even noticed the four of you walk in, too busy looking down at her cellphone. Amy and Rachel slid into a booth in the far left of the diner. You and Sam slid into the side opposite them. Amy waved down the waitress and you and Sam ordered coffee, while the girls ordered sodas.

"What happened the night Troy disappeared?" you asked her gently.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did," she told you, on the verge of tears.

"He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.

"No. Nothing I can remember."

Amy fidgeted nervously with the charm of her necklace; it was a black pentagram. Sam took the words right out of your mouth before you could speak them.

"I like your necklace."

"Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents," She laughed, "with all that devil stuff."

You and Sam both chuckled. He glanced at you, and you shared a look of understanding.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." Sam explained to Amy.

"Did Troy believe in or practice anything satanic? Or was the necklace just a harmless gift?" you asked her, trying to get any sort of lead.

"It was a just a gift. I think he ordered it off the internet," she told you with a shrug.

"Well, the way Troy disappeared, somethin's not right. If either of you know anything..." Sam trailed off.

Amy and Rachel slowly turned and looked at each other.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk," Rachel replied.

You and Sam spoke in tandem, "what do they talk about?" you'd be lying if you said you hadn't missed Sam always knowing what you were going to say.

Rachel paused, glancing over at Amy before she rested her elbows on the table and leaned in, speaking quietly, "It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago," the name Constance Welch flashed in your mind as Rachel spoke, "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever," you glanced over at Sam who was listening intently.

"Well, let's hope it's just a legend, yeah? Thank you for answering our questions. If you think of anything else that could help," you paused as you grabbed a napkin from the holder and pulled out the pen that Dean had given you earlier, "don't be afraid to call," you wrote your phone number down on the napkin and handed it to her, smiling warmly.

"Thank you for your time," Sam said and you almost laughed at how diplomatic he sounded.

You and Sam slid out of the booth and headed for the front door. The bell above the door dinged as Sam opened it, letting you go through first. You noticed the sun starting to slowly slip below the horizon. The breeze didn't do much to cool you off, the humid air making your forehead slick with sweat. You used the back of your hand to wipe off as much moisture from your face as you could. You gestured for Sam to follow you as you started walking down the road toward the motel you had seen earlier. You pulled your cell phone out as you walked and flipped it open, quickly finding Dean's contact. You pressed call and brought the phone up to your ear. It rang twice before he picked up.

"You get anything?" he asked you eagerly.

You didn't think twice about his lack of greeting, instead you answered his question immediately, "you probably got more than we did. We got told a local legend of a woman who was murdered on Centennial, and her ghost hitchhikes and picks up poor suckers who never get seen again," you told him, but you had a feeling he was going to fill you in on the missing pieces.

"They almost got it right. Funny how much a story can change over twenty years" Dean said, more to himself than to you.

"Hold on," you said before pulling the phone away from your ear and putting him on speakerphone, "What actually happened?" you asked him.

"She committed suicide. Jumped off the bridge where they found that kids car."

"So it's gotta be her... Did it say why she did it?"

Dean sighed sadly, "the article said she left her kids in the bathtub and they drowned. She had called 911 but it had already been too late. They found her an hour later in the river."

"Geez, no wonder I felt so much grief," you muttered, more to yourself, but Sam heard it all too clearly, "did the article say where she's buried?" you asked, deciding to ignore the concerned look Sam was giving you.

"No, but it had her husbands name. Joseph Welch. If we find him I'm sure he can tell us where she's buried."

"Alright. It's getting late, though. We can meet at the motel we passed earlier and get a room for the night," you said, realizing how much your body was aching.

"Want me to head back and pick you guys up?"

"Nah, we're almost there. I can see it. Just meet us there."

"Will do. See you soon."

"See you soon," you echoed before closing your phone and shoving it back in your pocket.

There was a long pause before Sam spoke, "Are you feeling okay?"

Sam knew how drained you could feel after channeling a ghost like you did on the bridge, especially an extremely vengeful spirit like Constance. The more you thought about how exhausted you were, your limbs felt heavier.

"I'm alright, just tired," you told him, but you could see in his furrowed brow expression that he didn't believe you, "a few hours of sleep should fix me right up," you added, somewhat sarcastically.

You had just made it to the front office when you heard the all too familiar roar of the impala's engine. You turned to see Dean pull into the parking lot and park in the first parking spot he could find. He hopped out with a gloating smile, happy that he had uncovered more than the two of you. You wanted to remind him who got the name in the first place.

"Lets just get a room," you said before Dean could start gloating aloud.

The three of you walked into the office of the motel. An older looking gentleman was stood behind the counter with a polite smile. Dean pulled his fake credit card out of his wallet and dropped it down on the counter.

"One room, please," he told the clerk, his proud smile still spread wide across his face.

The man picked up the fake credit card, looking down at it before glancing up at Dean, "you guys having a reunion or something?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked him.

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month," Sam and Dean shared a look.

"Which room was it?" you asked sweetly, hoping the man didn't get too suspicious.

"Number one. I only remember because he was so damn adamant about having it," he told you as he ran Dean's credit card and handed it back along with your room key.

"Thank you," you said before practically dragging the brothers out of the office, "let's get settled into our room, then we can check out John's room in a little bit. That guy might be keeping an eye out."

Sam and Dean agreed. The three of you grabbed your bags from the impala before bringing them to your room. You waited for the sun to fully set before the three of you started getting impatient. You were the first one out the door, checking to make sure that the coast was clear before the brothers followed. You walked down to the door of room one, standing shoulder to shoulder with Dean, your backs to the door as Sam knelt down to pick the lock. It only took him about thirty seconds before you heard the lock click from behind you. You turned as Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's shoulder, yanking him back into the room. You stepped in quickly after. Sam shut the door behind you as your eyes scanned the room.

"Woah," you mumbled as you both looked around the room.

There were newspaper clippings, printed articles, and photos hung on almost every inch of the walls of the motel room. There are books and papers scattered across every surface. Dean flicked a lamp on, leaning down to sniff a discarded burger underneath the light. He recoiled in disgust.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least," Dean observed.

"I think you're right," you replied as you walked to the far wall, making sure to step over the salt line that blocked the door.

Sam leaned down and poked at the salt on the floor, "salt, cats eye shells. He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in," he said as he stood up straight, before walking over to stand by Dean, "what have you got here?" Sam asked his brother, who was looking at a line of papers hung up on the wall.

"Centennial Highway victims," Dean replied, looking over the obituaries to make sure there weren't any he'd missed, "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities," Sam crossed the room to stand next to you as Dean spoke, "there's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

You and Sam noticed the photos and papers hung on the wall in front of you, and it confirmed what you had already been suspicious of. Sam reached out and turned on the lamp in front of you.

"Dad figured it out," Sam said simply.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked as he turned.

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch," Sam said, pointing at the article hung on the wall.

"She's a woman in white," you said when Dean's brows furrowed in confusion.

"You sly dogs," Dean said as he looked back at the articles of the missing men.

"The caption of the photo says Joseph Welch was thirty. The article dates to 1981, so he must be..." you paused, doing the math in your head, "sixty-four!" you said, hopeful.

"If he's still alive," Sam spoke what was on all your minds.

"We can worry about it tomorrow. I need at least a couple hours so I don't fall over," you said, a yawn enunciating your words.

"Didn't get enough beauty sleep in the car? You had the whole backseat to yourself," Dean teased as he walked to the door.

"That backseat is not as comfy for sleeping as you think it is," you protested as you stepped over the salt line.

"Better than nothing," Dean was just trying to piss you off, but unfortunately it was working.

"Well, no shit, jackass. But my neck is killing me and I'd love to sleep in a real bed," you pushed past Dean and out the door, checking to make sure no one was outside before leaving.

You got into the room first, taking your opportunity to enter the bathroom and have a quick shower before Dean used up all the hot water. You had the water running and the door closed when you heard Sam and Dean enter the room. You could heard Dean's muffled voice from the other side of the door You heard only a garbled mess of words until you heard your name. You quietly crept up to the bathroom door, pressing your ear up against it. Their voices were quieter now, but you were sure you had heard Dean say your name. You decided it probably wasn't best to ease drop. You couldn't hear what they were saying anyway. You gave up, stepping away from the door and continuing with your shower.

Dean was already passed out in one of the two king sized beds by the time you were out of the bathroom. You chuckled at his loud snoring as you stuffed your dirty clothes into your duffel bag. Sam was sat at the small table near the window, looking down at his phone. You stood awkwardly, wringing your hands as you contemplated what to say or do.

"The bathroom's free if you want to take a shower," you said finally.

Sam jumped slightly, looking a bit startled. He hadn't noticed you come out of the bathroom. Were you that sneaky or was he that distracted? You guessed it was a bit of both.

"Oh, thanks, but I'm good."

"Alright," you glanced at Dean, then back at Sam, "I don't think you'll want to share with him, so you can share with me," you felt your ears warming up but you did your best to ignore it.

"After having to sit in the front seat with him all day, I'd rather not have to deal with him hogging the covers all night. Thank you," Sam said gratefully, but he made no move to get into the bed, instead looking back down at his phone.

You nodded before walking over to the empty bed, laying on the right side. You left the side facing Dean's bed for Sam.

"Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

~~~~~~~~~

You're sat on the floor, your father's head in your lap. Your hands are slick with his blood as you hold the sides of his face.

"Dad? Are you okay? Dad, please wake up! Dad!"

You jolted awake, sitting up straight as you looked around your unfamiliar surroundings. Your eyes met Sam's as he stood next to the bed, his hand on your shoulder.

"Nightmare?" you can barely hear him over your heart pounding in your ears.

You nodded as you took in a shaky breath. Sam's hand moved to your back, rubbing in soft circles. It actually helped ground you, and you were able to catch your breath fairly quickly. Dean came out of the bathroom as Sam let his hand fall from your back.

"You okay?" he asked you and you nodded quickly.

"I'm just gonna get ready," you mumbled, feeling awkward having both of them looking at you worriedly.

You stood and walked over to your duffel bag, grabbing out a change of clothes and heading into the bathroom. You could hear Sam and Dean's hushed voices as you got dressed. They went silent a few moments before you exited the bathroom. Sam was sat on the bed as he listened to a voicemail from who you assumed to be Jessica. You watched Dean pull on his jacket.

"Hey, man, I'm starving. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat at that diner down the street. You want anything?" Dean asked Sam.

"No," he replied.

"Aframian's buying," Dean joked.

Sam only shook his head, and Dean sighed, turning to you.

"You hungry? Wanna go get some greasy diner food?" he asked enthusiastically.

"For breakfast? I'm hoping for some pancakes or something," you said as you looked around for your own jacket, "we'll see you in a bit, Sam," you stopped yourself from calling him 'Sammy,' but you can see in his eyes that he caught your almost slip up.

"Mhm," he hummed in response as you and Dean headed out the door.

You walked with Dean across the parking lot toward the impala. You looked to the right when you felt someone looking at you. You saw the motel clerk talking with a couple cops. The clerk pointed at you and Dean when he saw you.

"Shit," you muttered as you turned to face away from the cops.

Dean mirrored your movements, standing shoulder to shoulder with you as he pulled his phone out, "dude, five-o. Take off," you heard Dean say into the phone.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, "uh, they kinda spotted us. Go find Dad," Dean closed his phone and stuck it in his jacket pocket before the he spun around to face the cops, bumping your shoulder with his to make you turn around too.

"Problem, officers?" Dean said with a shit eating grin that you wanted to smack right off his face.

"Where's your partner?" the cop crossed his arms over his chest as he looked from Dean to you, eyeing you suspiciously.

"Partner? What, what partner?" Dean asked innocently.

The cop jerked his thumb toward your motel room, silently ordering his partner to search the room. He obeyed, walking to the door before opening it and going inside. You felt your palms begin to sweat as you watched him enter the room, worried that he would come back out with Sam in handcuffs. Your eyes darted back toward the cop standing in front of you. He stood still as a statue, staring you down. You did your best to stand your ground and try not seem a nervous as you were.

"So, fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" the cop asked Dean.

Dean paused, as if debating his response, "My boobs," he finally replied with a toothy grin that showed he was satisfied with his answer.

The cop shoved Dean's shoulder roughly, forcing him to turn around. He pressed his hand in between Dean's shoulder blades, slamming him down against the hood of the car with a thud while his other hand went to his belt to grab his cuffs.

"Turn around with your hands against the hood of the car, please," the cop ordered you through gritted teeth.

You did what he said, not wanting to piss him off anymore than Dean had already done. He cuffed Dean before cuffing you, pressing your cheek against the hood of the impala. You must have looked incredibly annoyed, because Dean's slightly amused smile quickly disappeared.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," the cop read you your rights as you continued to glare at Dean.

You always hated dealing with the cops. Everytime Dean got the two of you arrested, you hated them even more. Cops didn't believe in monsters and ghosts, so they were always a hinderance, rather than a help. You had a funny feeling that this sheriff was going to get on your nerves. They had thrown you and Dean in separate interview rooms. The sheriff had asked your name and age, which you gave fake answers to both. He had left you to go interrogate Dean.

He was gone for a few minutes before he entered the room again. He was holding a file box full of papers and folders. You assumed they were the things that had been hung up on the walls of John's motel room. He dropped it onto the table before dropping down a notebook in front of you. You immediately recognized it, but you did your best to make sure your face didn't reflect that.

"So you want to give me your real name?" he asked as he leaned against the table.

"I already told you. It's Sandra Nugent," you reiterated to the sheriff, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

"You could be in a lot of trouble here, you know that? Unless you cooperate with me. If you tell me what your boyfriend and his partners have been doing, maybe I can help you out," you wanted to laugh at how desperate he sounded.

"You don't have any evidence on us," you replied stubbornly.

"Ya'll got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall. Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. You and your buddy in there are officially suspects."

"Right, because when the first one went missing in '82, before I was even born," you deadpanned.

"I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me... Y/N is it?" you must have looked surprised, because he opened John's notebook that was sat on the table and began flipping through it slowly, "I thought that might be your name. I got Dean's name fairly quickly, but yours I wasn't so sure about. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out. I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy," he flipped through until he was almost at the end, stopping and leaning back so you could see the page he had flipped to, "but I found this, too."

You looked down at the page. It was mostly blank other than Deans name scrawled in John's handwriting, along with 35-111 underneath it. The message was circled hastily.

"No one is going anywhere until one of you can tell me what the hell that means," he tapped the message on the paper with his index finger.

"I don't know what it means. It looks like it might be a locker combo or something," you said with a shrug.

The sheriff was getting red faced, and you were sure Dean had told him the same things. This wasn't your first rodeo. Before he could question you any more, there was a knock at the door. It opened a second later. A young cop stuck his head into the room.

"We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road," he told the sheriff.

"You have to go to the bathroom?" the Sheriff asked you.

"No," you replied.

"Good."

He promptly cuffed you to the table. You struggled against the cuffs slightly, the metal digging into the skin of your wrist. The sheriff left and shut the door behind him. Through the small window in the interrogation room door, you could see all the cops scrambling to leave. You looked around, trying to find a way out, when you noticed a paper clip sticking out of John's journal.

You reached out and grabbed it. You unbent it and used it to pick the lock on your handcuffs. You did your best to remember what Sam taught you, and soon you were free. You grabbed John's journal off the table and crept over to the door. You peered through the small window and waited until all the cops had cleared out before trying the door. It was surprisingly unlocked. You went to the interrogation room next door, opening it to reveal Dean handcuffed to the table.

"Well look at you, ya' little escape artist! How did you manage that?" Dean asked as you entered the room.

You held up the straightened paper clip for him to see before getting to work on unlocking his handcuffs. He laughed in amusement as you freed him.

"He made it pretty easy," you said with a shrug, handing him John's journal, "now come on, let's get outta here before they come back."

The two of you crept through the police station, careful not to let anyone see you. It seemed like they had all hands on deck though, because the place looked almost deserted. You managed to find your cell phones on the sheriff's desk. You were sure the receptionist would still be at the front desk, so you searched around for window or a back exit. You quickly found a window that let to the fire escape.

You unlocked it and pulled it open before climbing out onto the fire escape. You gestured for Dean to follow, and he did so without hesitation. Dean climbed down first before you climbed down after him. The two of you made sure the coast was clear of any cop cars before walking down the sidewalk, headed for the town exit. You weren't sure which way Sam had gone or where he was, but you needed to get the hell out of dodge before the cops found you again. The sidewalk ended at the exit of town, and Dean pulled his cellphone out to call Sam.

"Fake 911 phone call? I don't know, Sammy, that's pretty illegal," he said as he put it on speakerphone so you could hear Sam too.

"You're welcome," Sam's voice came through the shitty speaker of Deans phone.

"Listen, we gotta talk," Dean started, but Sam was quick to reply.

"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop," Sam explained.

"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?" Dean tried to stop his brother from speaking.

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," Sam continued, ignoring Dean's words.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you! He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What? How do you know?"

"We've got his journal," you told him.

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing," Sam said slowly.

"Yeah, well, he did this time," Dean said.

"What's it say?" Sam asked.

"The same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates," Sam said, immediately understanding what Dean meant, "Where to?"

"We aren't sure yet. We didn't have much time to look while we were running from the cops," you said, annoyance evident in your tone, but it was more directed at Dean.

"I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? What the hell is going on?"

You heard the screech of tires skidding on the road through the phone before a quiet thud.

"Sam? Sam!" Dean yelled into the phone frantically.

"Take me home," you heard Constance's soft voice come through the phone, and your hand flew up to clutch your head as the image of a house appeared in your mind.

"Y/N? What is it? Are you alright?" Dean stopped walking to put his hand on your shoulder.

You squeezed your eyes shut tight as you examined the house. It felt like a memory, but you knew you had never seen the house before. You quickly realized it had to be a memory from Constance. It must be her old house where Sam said she was buried.

"The house," you said, "We have to go to the house. That's where she's taking him," you said as you opened your eyes and lifted your head to look at Dean.

"We don't know where the house is!" he cried out, more in fear than in anger.

"I do. Follow me," you didn't elaborate and instead you turned and started jogging, knowing the house wasn't too far from you.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Dean asked as he easily caught up to jog next to you.

"I'm fine, but Sam isn't gonna be if we don't hurry up," you said before picking up the pace.

You and Dean were now running as fast as your legs could manage. You eventually cut through the tree line, coming out into a clearing. You could see the house in the distance, with the impala stopped out front. You could see Sam sitting in the front seat. As you got closer, you could see the ghostly figure above Sam. You quickly recognized the long wavy hair to belong to Constance.

"Cover your ears!" Dean shouted as you ran.

Your hands flew up to cover ears. You had been hunting with the Winchester brothers long enough to know that if one of them said to do something, you did it without question. You heard the muffled sound of a gun shot as you saw the front windows of the impala shatter. Constance disappeared for a moment before reappearing, turning to glare at the two of you. You felt your spine shudder in fear at the anger that radiated off her. Dean continued to shoot until she disappeared for good. You had just made it to the impala when you saw Sam sit up. He reached out and turned the keys in the ignition, making the car rumble to life.

"I'm taking you home," he said breathlessly before he pressed on the gas.

"Sam!" Dean yelled after him as the impala lurched forward and smashed through the front wall of the house with a loud crash.

You and Dean ran up the porch stairs and through the now giant hole in the side of the house. You stepped over the rubble and toward the impala that had stopped in the middle of what looked to be the remnants of a living room.

"Sam?" Dean called out as he ran to the passenger side of the car, "Sam! You okay?" Dean asked as he leaned in through the window.

"I think..." you heard Sam say from inside the car as you walked over.

"Can you move?" Dean asked as he tried to get the passenger door open.

"Yeah. Help me?"

Dean yanked the passenger door open before leaning inside the car and reaching out for Sam. He pulled him out and up onto his feet and brushed the dust off his shoulders.

"There you go," Dean said.

The three of you turned and saw Constance on the other side of the room, holding a large framed photo. She finally noticed you, glaring daggers as she threw the picture to the floor. It clattered loudly as the three of you stared dumbly. Suddenly, her hand lifted and she made a gesture that caused a dresser to slide across the room and pin you against the side of the impala. The wind got knocked out of you as you tried to push the dresser away, but there was an unseen force holding it in place. Sam and Dean were too stubborn to stop trying. Constance took a step forward, a look of malice in her eyes. You were anticipating her next move, when suddenly the lights flickered and buzzed. You watched Constance turn and walk to the base of the stairs that now had water pouring down them like a waterfall.

"You've come home to us, Mommy," you heard a boy and girl say in unison.

Suddenly, the spirits of Constance's children appeared behind her. They wrapped their arms around her in one final hug as the lights surged. You shielded your eyes as Constance screamed. You watched from under your forearm as the three of their spirits sunk slowly into the floor, disappearing and leaving only a puddle of water behind. Sam and Dean pushed the dresser over, and it clattered loudly to the floor. It kicked up a cloud of dust that made you cough. You walked over to examine the puddle, Sam and Dean close behind you. You all stared down at the floor in silence, trying to collect your thoughts. You were trying to brush off the residual rage that Constance had left behind.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean said, breaking the silence.

"That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them," Sam confirmed.

"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy," Dean clapped Sam on the chest where Constance had dug her fingers into his chest, presumably to rip out his heart; Sam laughed through the pain it caused him.

"Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"I was just thinking the same thing," you added.

"Hey. Saved your ass," Dean said he walked over to the impala, leaning down to inspect the damage, "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?" he turned to point at Sam menacingly, "I'll kill you," Sam laughed as you gave Dean a 'what the fuck?' look.

"You literally shot the windows out! I doubt Sam did more damage than you did to your own car," you said as you walked over to stand next to Dean, noticing the busted out headlight.

Fortunately, the impala still ran. The front windows were shattered, and the right headlight needed replacing, but it wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed. She'd been through worse, is what Dean had said.

~~~~~~~~~

You were leaned over the backrest of Sam's seat, looking at the map he had sitting open in his lap. He was trying to find the location of the coordinates that John had left. It didn't take him long to circle a spot on the map.

"Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado," Sam said and Dean nodded.

"Sounds charming. How far?" Dean asked.

"About six hundred miles," Sam replied.

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by tonight!" Dean said excitedly.

"Dean, I, um..." Sam trailed off, and you sat back in your seat, knowing where this was going.

"You're not going," Dean said simply.

"The interview's tomorrow morning. I gotta be there."

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

You had the sudden realization that your bags were still in your motel room. It wasn't difficult to convince Dean to drive back to the motel. You and Sam managed to sneak in and grab your stuff without being spotted. Dean sped to the highway to make sure the cops didn't catch you again.

None of you spoke for the rest of the drive. It was only a few hours, and the sun had set by the time you had arrived at Sam's apartment complex. Dean stopped out front and Sam opened the door and got out, shutting it behind him. He turned to lean in through the window as you climbed over the backrest to sit in the front seat. Once you were sat, you looked over at Sam, noticing how close he was.

"Call me if you find him?" Sam asked, and Dean nodded, "And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" his eyes went from Dean to you, and you nodded with a smile.

"Yeah, all right," Dean replied, still frowning slightly.

Sam patted the door twice, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stood up straight. He turned around and started to walk away. Dean set his arm on the backrest behind you, leaning forward slightly to look out the passenger window.

"Sam?" Dean called out.

Sam looked over his shoulder, "yeah?"

"You know, we all made a hell of a team back there," he said with a smirk, glancing at you.

Sam nodded with a small smile before Dean turned back to look at the road as he pressed on the gas. You didn't dare turn to look, instead you tried to catch a glimpse of Sam in the crooked side mirror. You could see his tall figure looming in the shadows. There was a sense of foreboding that you couldn't shake as you drove away. You were only on the road for a few minutes. Sam's apartment building had just barely faded in the distance. You turned and saw Dean's furrowed brows as he glanced between his watch and the road.

"What?" you questioned him.

"I think my watch stopped working."

A wave of dread washed over you as your heart dropped into your stomach. It felt like every inch of your skin was covered in goosebumps. You swallowed hard around the lump rising in your throat.

"Dean, turn around and go back. Now," you said firmly.

Dean didn't have to be told twice. He immediately pulled a u-turn and headed back toward Sam's apartment. You could feel the evil radiating off the building even before you saw it come into view. Dean pressed down on the gas harder, going well above the speed limit. He pulled into the parking lot and skidded to a stop in front of the door. You both hopped out of the impala but he stopped you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," he said quickly before turning and running into the building.

You looked up to see flames and smoke emitting from an upstairs window. Your stomach churned as you pulled out your phone to call 911. You put the phone to your ear, and spoke to the operator about the fire, who told you they were sending a fire truck. You could hear the fire alarm going off before Sam and Dean even made it outside. Just as your chest was starting to ache with worry, you saw them emerge, Dean practically dragging Sam along. Sam fell into your waiting arms, and you used all your strength to keep him somewhat standing. He had wrapped his arms around you and had shoved his face into the crook of your neck. Dean stood a few feet away, coughing loudly. He put up his hand and made it into a faux phone, shaking it next to his ear with furrowed brows, silently asking if you had called the police. You nodded as you hugged Sam tightly, rubbing his back with one hand and petting his hair softly with the other.

The fire fighters didn't take long to get there. They managed to tame the flames fairly quickly, leaving most of the apartment complex intact. Sam had detached from you before they had arrived, wiping his eyes and sitting on the trunk of the impala. He didn't speak a word to you. Only when Sam was talking with the cops was when you got part of the story from Dean.

"She was... on the ceiling," he told you slowly.

"Like... Like how your mom died?" you asked gently.

Dean nodded and you felt your chest tighten as your heart rate quickened. You shook your head as you looked over to the building. Smoke was still billowing out into the night sky, blocking the few stars you could see from view. You and Dean were stood side by side at the back of the crowd of onlookers that had grown at the edge of the police tape. The red lights of the fire truck were still flashing, and they were starting to give you a headache. You turned away from the building to head back to the impala. Dean had pulled it off to the side of the road a few yards away. Sam was stood in front of the open trunk. You saw him loading a shotgun as you approached.

You didn't want to pity him, knowing it would only make him feel worse. When you saw the tear stains down his cheeks, you couldn't stop the sympathetic smile you gave him. He smiled weakly at you. Dean walked up next, giving Sam a look you couldn't place. You knew all the Winchester looks, but this one was foreign to you. Sam nodded at him before letting out shuddering breath, obviously knowing what his brother's look meant. You appreciated them getting along, but you didn't like to be excluded. Under different circumstances, you would have pestered them until they told you what telepathic messages they were sending each other. Instead, you stayed quiet, watching as Sam threw the now loaded shotgun into the trunk.

"We got work to do," he said before slamming the trunk shut.

[fandom-hoarder]

I have thoughts of Sam being pregnant and Dean not knowing that he is the father! It plays in S12 and Mary has just come back.

Sam didn’t know yet he was pregnant when the british men of letters kidnapped him. He only become aware of it afterward, when Dean and Mary had saved him. Sam was out of his mind with panic and dread.

He and Dean didn’t had sex for years. They stopped their love affair when Sam was possessed by Gadreel and didn’t pick it up again.

However, just the night before Dean went to kill Amara with the soul bomb sitting in his chest, something happened. Dean was drunk as hell and Sam was grief stricken. They had sex, trying to find last comfort in the other's body. That’s how Sam ended up pregnant. Dean though can’t remember the night. He was too drunk and his memories are blank.

Sam doesn’t dare tell Dean he is pregnant now that their mother is around, but it becomes plain soon. Sam’s belly starts swelling and everyone knows it. Dean begins looking at him with a mix of anger, pain and amazement. He knows they aren’t together anymore, but Dean still feels betrayed. At the same time though, Dean can’t stop noticing how beautiful Sam looks with his swollen belly, heavy with life growing below his heart. And he is actually excited to see the baby, getting to hold it and be called uncle.

Now I wanna know from you how Dean could find out that Sam is pregnant from him and how would he react?

[sorry I let this marinate so long! but I've just been rewatching a few s12 eps, so I was thinking about this]

Imagine that scene near the end of Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, when the demon has possessed Jody and she's going around the room tattling everyone's secrets... Mostly the demon is revealing secrets of people it possessed, but it can smell Sam's pregnancy -- it's a crossroads demon, it's its job to know what leverage it has to work with.

Earlier in the episode, Dean is talking about how Asa went out the way all hunters do, and how they should be so lucky. Imagine secretly-pregnant Sam, how his heart sinks at those words. How there's just no way he can tell Dean he's pregnant now.

So the demon does. But the demon can't tell whose it is -- doesn't care, or maybe just can't seem to spit it out as everyone in the room has a turn at saying the exorcism and casting it out.

When Dean hears in that moment that Sam is pregnant, he can't sort out his feelings about it -- it's too much. It's a blessing and a curse, because he's always wished for that apple pie life for Sammy, and he should want Sam to be able to move on; but damn, what is his brother thinking with this timing? And who's the father?!

But he can't ask that in front of their mother and all these people, and Sam has buttoned up; too anxious to tell the truth.

Dean gets the answer to that when they finally track down Vince Vincente weeks later -- Sam still comes along despite his condition, of course (Dean grumbles equally about headstrong baby brothers and Sam's savior complex and his teenage crush on Vince). And when they get trapped in the empty concert hall with Lucifer!Vince, rather than whining about dear ol' dad leaving him, Lucifer waxes poetic about how he deserved to be the one to make a child with Sam -- how he took Vince's body because he'd seen Sam's crush when he'd possessed him and he knew it'd draw Sam to him. How it's not fair that Dean of all people got there first -- doesn't he understand that Lucifer deserves Sam?

And now Dean is really out for Lucifer's head.

[cthulhubert]

Alan Dean Foster's "Journeys of the Catechist" was a formative book series for young me. The main character, Ehomba, a diligent shepherd and sage, was directly inspirational. I think I read it when I was 16, so more than half my life ago (sits down dizzy with that realization).

It also stands out in my memories because it had a much more folkloric tone than most of the fantasy books I'd read around then.

I've had... mixed results on rereading books I loved when I was young (ditto watching shows etc). But I decided I might as well bite the bullet, see what new things I could spot.

Thankfully, this one was still good. Well. It had its flaws, but they were ones I recognized back then. The big one is that it... honestly maybe should've been condensed to one book. By the end of Carnivores of Light and Darkness, you've seen most of Foster's good ideas, so Into the Thinking Kingdoms and Triumph of Souls felt repetitive.

Spoilers:

A small handful of things I'd glossed over before stuck out to me. More women hit on Ehomba than I'd realized, and he briefly considers cheating with one before choosing not to.

Unlike most of the fantasy books I read around then, Catchist had no map. And the book is never explicit about this one, so it was fun to realize that the setting is, in fact, a parallel, or possibly future Earth. Ehomba starts his journey somewhere in Africa, crosses the Sahara and the Mediterranean, travels through the Iberian peninsula, and crosses the ocean to the Americas and travels there. I'd realized this in my first read through, actually. But it was neat to see it hold up. Can't give my past self too many points, because parallel or future post-apocalypse, or some mythological pseudo-past Earth was a really common fantasy trope in the late 80s through the 90s.

His swashbuckling rogue side kick was stupider than I remembered.

One of the things I really loved about the series was the ending. The whole series is because Ehomba has taken on the task of a dying knight who washed ashore near his village: to secure the return of a princess, kidnapped to become the bride of an evil sorcerer emperor across the sea. The twist is that once he gets there, she doesn't want to return! She's fallen in love with the evil emperor, and wants to stay. Unfortunately, says Ehomba, my mission isn't do what you want, it's get you home, and the mission is what I have sworn to do. So he counter-kidnaps her, drags her back to her people. Then, obviously, since this is a dick move, he re-anti-counter-kidnaps her and they adventure back to the empire where he drops her off before heading home.

Here's the biggest one I missed in my initial read through. I remembered her saying that she'd realized the emperor's virtue one day. She'd discovered that he was some other, highly discriminated against race (I read it as something like a neanderthal with stubby legs), constantly wearing armor to hide it. Somehow I'd come to an interpretation that he was actually a good guy but playing the role of a harsh ruler to get his people to work together. That "evil" was mostly propaganda.

NOPE. The man is vile. He visits a fate worse than death on a servant for dropping one of his plates. He spends large amounts of his kingdoms wealth on frivolous entertainments for himself. The thing that had been clearly written between the lines, that young me still missed? The princess has a fetish for his people. She is almost sweating when she talks about his "virtue". That's the reason she wants to stay. She gets hornt up for the protruding brow ridge.

(No idea where this one came from, but somehow I'd even remembered thinking that he didn't have much magic, that that was all showmanship to mislead people. But no, he's turning people into living furniture with a wave of his hand.)

Honestly, this revelation is even more in line with some of the themes of the book. He has an almost daoist attitude. Ehomba isn't out there to fix everyone's problems. He's not gonna defeat the evil emperor. Sure he'll extend a helping hand if it's on the way (a favorite memory was him giving a doll to a little girl who's been kicked out of her home by a sheriff of Nottingham type; who realizes the doll is special and steals it; the doll kills him that night). But undertaking his chosen burden is what's really important to him.

I also need to reiterate how dumb the swashbuckling rogue sidekick is. He asks, one last time, if Ehomba isn't really a wizard. Ehomba, having solved 95% of their problems with tools he mentions were given to him by his fellow villagers: "I promise you. I am no more a wizard than anybody in my village." That night he initiates his son into adulthood, taking him to the special cave where his people store their lost knowledge of magic on books with pages of carved ruby.

[quietwingsinthesky]

The big question is how is Dean handling the whole Lucifer carrying Sam's baby situation? Poorly

do not spoil the fic ending do not spoil the fic ending do not-

I think Dean reacting to a samifer baby would be so so interesting. As always, different depending on when it happens. Worst time for it would be during the Apocalypse, because you just know that would be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, proof to Dean that Sam is going to get taken away from him. (By his own words, that’s what he’s afraid of and why he is so hard on Sam that season, post-demon blood there’s very little trust there.)

But even post-apocalypse, in some hypothetical scenario where Lucifer is just hanging out with them, I guess, there’s no way Dean’s not going to be weird about this. Affectionately, he is a control freak. On the one hand, it’s Sam’s kid! Of course he has to love Sam’s kid.

But it’s Lucifer having them. And that’s the big issue, right? Because Lucifer is always going to be seen by Dean as a threat to his position in Sam’s life. (Is that true in any way? Probably not. I’m pretty sure the only scenario in which Lucifer supplants Dean as Sam’s Most Important Person is an Endverse scenario where Dean has completely rejected Sam first.) Post-Cage, Lucifer has known Sam longer than Dean ever could. Reasonably, Dean is never going to be able to get rid of the suspicion that Lucifer did something to Sam in there to make Sam love him, because Lucifer is as firmly in the monster category as anything can be and therefore, Sam can’t love him without it being some kind of manipulation, the same way Sam couldn’t love Ruby except that she was messing with his head. (Again. Dean POV here. How genuine SamRuby was on both sides is a topic for another day. The point is that Dean’s main concern is always going to be “protect Sam”, even if it’s from his own ability to choose who to love.)

I’m pretty sure that this is just a long-winded way of saying that Dean might put up with it. for Sam. put up with it with an angel blade behind his back and a plan for how to kidnap a baby from the devil.

But on the other hand, if anything was going to endear Dean to Lucifer, it would be seeing that the baby is his priority, too. After the first few times seeing Lucifer cradle a baby stops breaking his brain, that is.

(if you can’t tell, i love putting Dean & Lucifer at odds when it comes to “who gets to be Sam’s specialest guy” because! They are both so weird about him!! and i love when dean has Problems. he’s at his best when he’s at his Most Issues state. Toxic little guy who loves his brother so so much and has zero idea how to express that in a healthy way and instead routinely finds ways to threaten Lucifer. (Lucifer does not find him very threatening, to be clear.))

[destieltaggedfic]

Based on Movies - Part 1

Over the Christmas period me and my friend watched a lot of Hallmark movies, in particular I was targeting films that I had seen/read fic adaptations of.  I gotta say both the versions of The Holidate are better and make more sense than the film.  There is also at least 2 versions of Holiday in Handcuffs so no matter which of them you think should get kidnapped by the other you’re covered. And I’m waiting for someone to write the Destiel version of the Chad Michael Murray angel falling in love with a messed up human Christmas movie that came out last year.

These Hateful Things – allmystars   Ao3

AU.  Gabriel Novak’s parents have a condition for funding his next movie.  Make sure his poet brother Castiel gets out and about for a change.  His leading lady who high-profile actor Dean Winchester has been chasing makes Dean a deal.  If he starts dating Cas for a while she will finally sleep with him in this retelling of 10 things I hate about you.

Word Count: 34k                              Graphic Sexual Acts

If The Fates Allow – Agathophile   Ao3

AU.  Its Christmas and Dean broke up with his girlfriend Cassie weeks ago.  The problem is that his family are expecting him to bring her to Christmas.  Stressed, he kidnaps Castiel Novak to take to the family gathering. Holiday in Handcuffs AU.

Word Count: 37k                              No Sex

Holiday in Handcuffs – lovemuppet   Ao3

AU.  Artist Castiel, is the boring disappointment in his family, something its hard for Dean to understand since he’s been kidnapped to play Cas’ boyfriend during the family Christmas.  Holiday in Handcuffs AU.

Word Count: 12k                              No Sex

All I've Ever Wanted - Songstress42   Ao3

AU.  In this Notting Hill AU, Dean is a famous movie star while Cas is a struggling book shop owner.

Word Count: 37k                              Non-Graphic Sex

holding on to tomorrow - s7jacket (QueenTheatrics)   Ao3

AU Long-term fan of the singer Johnson Wisconsin, Cas manages to get backstage passes for one of his concerts where he literally bumps into the guy’s assistant Dean.  Fate and mutual friends keep them coming into contact and when they start a relationship Dean spills a very important secret about his identity in this Hannah Montana AU.

Word Count: 35k                              Graphic Sexual Acts

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 163

Heartache/A Good Man Goes to War

“Heartache”

Plot Description: Sam and Dean investigate a string of unusual murders in which the victims were all recipients of organs from the same donor

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: well, hmm. I wouldn’t be out running alone late at night…..or at all. So, maybe??

I don’t know what it is but this feels like a much older episode

You’re allowed to produce shop, Dean. It’s good for you. Don’t get mad at Sam for wanting fresh, organic apples

This officer HATES Dean lol

I wanna be mad at Dean every time he makes remarks about Sam’s year off, but I’d be the same way

Oh thank god Sam was recording that guy’s babbling. Ah, damn.

How…did Sam just get access to that dude’s medical records??

How did I know they’d reverse the expectation for that next murder. Good for her

I can’t believe we’re back on the Sam wants out of the family business conversation AGAIN

I shouldn’t be…so…at her smearing blood on her face and taking a bite of a human heart

Do we know for sure that Eleanor is his mom though?? Oh. OH. OHHH. The football player drove off the road to end his deal with the Mayan maize god.

And she wasn’t his mom!!! Betsy from the letters IS Eleanor

I can’t tell if she…….DEAN. Anyway. Eleanor and Brick’s story is beautiful and sad and horrifying all at once

I would let her rip out my heart and eat it in front of me

It’s literally so weird that they forgot Sam was there, too. All three focused so much on Dean, and all Sam had to do was bash one of them over the head with a beer bottle?

Oh. Sam’s gonna try to leave again…

“A Good Man Goes to War”

Plot Description: it’s the battle of Demon’s Run, and River Song has something to tell the Doctor

The way Amy and Rory constantly get torn away from each other…

AND the way they keep trying to make us think Amy’s in love with the Doctor ALL THE FUCKING TIME

It’s exhausting

I’m sure these like…space station grunt workers will tie into the grander scheme at some point but I can’t bring myself to care about them…yet…?

Is this the Silurian woman who becomes a…not companion, but frequent ally of the Doctor? (The way my brain went through V names and tried to convince me her name was Vriska as if I’ve even read homestuck) it IS her because that’s Jenny. Jenny, right?? Yes.

Oh to be fighting with laser guns but dressed like you’re in Pride and Prejudice. That’s such a good way to stage a scene

Why DO they even attempt to keep River locked up? Or is it mostly self-imposed out of some sense of penance

Knowing what we eventually find out about River and hearing her tell Rory that it’s her birthday 😭

Ohhhh…the space station grunts are the underlings to the people who kidnapped Amy.

They really made the headless monks Sith Nazgûl huh?

I do like the interspecies lesbians

It’s interesting to think about this episode in contrast to The Pandorica Opens (if that was the first of the Pandorica episodes). We have a lot of the same elements, but now the Doctor has gathered a group of different alien species to do the attacking. It’s kind of no wonder the one grunt talks of him as a dark legend

The pirate crew??????? Hell yeah!

One, the Colonel Run Away speech is powerful but two, you being angry isn’t new, Doc. You can pretend you’re a silly little muppet man all you want but….no

Oh I like that bit of dialogue too “the anger of a good man is not a problem. good men have too many rules” “good men don’t need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many”

Noooooo, after that really touching reunion I’D FORGOTTEN THAT THEY REPLACED MELODY TOO. THAT’S NOT THEIR REAL BABY

I can’t believe he’s putting a time limit on Amy and the Doctor hugging…..

That would be so unbelievably traumatizing. If your newborn child liquified in your arms.

No matter what it is that River says here, no matter how right she is, part of the reason she couldn’t come here til now was because she shouldn’t cross her own time stream

[fandomfourever]

Random Scooby Doo Thoughts My Brain Had in the Middle of the Night

I don’t know why but my brain decided to come up with this whole thing at like midnight-1 am, and I’m not even like, a huge Scooby Doo fan (meaning I have watched several episodes of the original and What’s New Scooby Doo, some movies, the Supernatural crossover ep, and all of Mystery Inc, but I’m not super knowledgeable on all the lore and there’s several versions of Scooby Doo shows and stuff I haven’t watched), so keep that in mind with the rambling going on below, lol.

So as of seeing the discussions on Velma, and various people talking about how it was meant to be a more “adult” version of Scooby Doo and how well that turned out /s, I figured I’d throw my two cents in about what I personally would like a more grown-up/adult version of Scooby Doo to be.

The kind of more adult version of Scooby Doo I’d personally like to see, would be something along the lines of like a combination of Criminal Minds/Supernatural/Stranger Things. Meaning, the Scooby Gang would be adults, probably in their late 20s or early 30s, and solving mysteries would be their jobs, and the mysteries would be perpetrated half the time by humans, and half the time by monsters (or some other kind of split, but I think the addition of the supernatural would be key) but they never know which it is until they’re already on the case, obviously. However, the government would be paying them for the human crimes, and covering up the actual monster crimes. I would’ve gone with the freelancer type business where the government isn’t involved, but I think having this dynamic could open up some interesting plot lines of corrupt government and such.

The mysteries/crimes they’d be solving would be less “masked person scares people off the land they want to steal” (though this could still obviously be part of it), and more like, legit murders and kidnapping happening. The stakes should be bigger, and consequences more severe. It doesn’t have to be super gory, but I think keeping it along the lines of the shows I mentioned would be good.

The tone of this would be obviously darker than most versions—including Mystery Inc—but it would still retain its humor. I’d want it to reference other versions of Scooby Doo, either through characters coming back from older versions, or as past mysteries they’ve solved and talk about.

When it comes to characterization and their roles on the team:

I’d see Fred as for sure the Trap Guy, but he also takes on a more leader-like role (like Hotch from CM) but also still be a little silly (I’d also think of him a bit like Dean from SPN). He’d be the one coming up with the main plans still. The key is that he’s a good dude! A proper Himbo, not a manbaby.

Daphne would mostly handle the PR aspect of the job, though she also is capable of fighting if need be (think a combo of JJ and Prentiss from CM). She would obviously still be going out “in the field” with the group. I think she and Fred would be the ones that would be taking the brunt of actually talking to local government officials and “upper class” witnesses/victims wherever they go for cases.

Velma is their tech girl, and does a majority of the research. She’d have hacking skills, too, but she wouldn’t be left behind, she’d still go with the rest of the gang (think a combo of Garcia and Reid from CM, but also Sam from SPN). Her research handles the more human crimes than monster crimes.

Shaggy and Scooby would still be cowards, but I think this would lend well to their roll in the group. I’d have this be why Shaggy actually has a lot of knowledge of the monsters/supernatural. Due to being scared of so many things, he wants to be ready, just in case the crimes are being committed by monsters.

Scooby would talk in this, due to being of supernatural origin himself. I’m unsure if the alien lore for him is only in one version of Scooby Doo, or if it comes up in multiple versions, but it would either be he and his family have alien heritage, or some sort of fae. Either way, in this none of them would know at first, but Scooby would have the natural ability (though it’d need training) to sense the supernatural.

Eventually we’d get Fred and Shaggy, and Velma and Daphne becoming couples. Because I say so, lol.

When it comes to the actual setting of this, I’m kind of split.

I think one interesting way of going about it could be setting this in the 90s, where they would’ve been born in the 60s/70s (ya know like when the original series came out ;) ). With this, Shaggy would’ve grown up in a hippie family, perhaps nomadic as well up to a point (settling down when he reached middle or high school allowing him to meet the others and forming the gang). Maybe Daphne or Fred’s parents were Reagan types, causing them to rebel against them. Perhaps Velma’s parent(s) were the conspiracy theorist types, thus her desire to prove that it’s only humans committing crimes (though eventually realizing that monsters are real).

Obviously, the other option would be setting this in modern times. Shaggy would be considered more of a hipster in this than an outright hippie. We could still keep aspects of what I said above, but with more modern equivalents, you know? While I’d personally lean more towards the first one, this does allow some fun things. Example: Potential crossover or reference to ghost hunting shows like Ghost Hunters, Ghost Adventures, and/or Ghost Files/Buzzfeed Supernatural. The mental image of the gang coming across Shane and Ryan does make me snort (Shane saying he doesn’t believe in demons or monsters, and Scoob in the background is just staring at him suspiciously lol).

Though of course, if we go with the first option, there’s no reason they couldn’t make reference to the Warrens.

Either way, the backstory for them all would be that they met and formed the gang in middle/high school and started solving mysteries. Then they just continued as they got older and turned it into a proper job, with the government allowing it due to how many cases they solves and how well they did. We'd explore this through flashbacks and such.

Kind of going back a bit, I would love to see the return of several characters/plot lines: The Hex Girls, Ravencroft, Scrappy and other Scooby relatives, the whole Zombie Island thing (I think more could be done with it, or referenced in some way), something to do with the 2000s live action movies, the girls from the Ghoul School, maybe have Shaggy get turned into a werewolf (in a darker way than done in the cartoon).

This sort of show would have the Monster Of The Week, but still have over-arching plot lines each season (assuming this would go on for multiple seasons). I’d imagine some of it would deal with the government corruption, and whether they should keep covering up the supernatural or if it would be better for people to know the truth. Other plot lines could deal with Scooby’s powers and family. We could also have plot lines that deal with how doing this sort of work puts not only the gang in danger, but their family and loved ones. I'd like to see it tackle how doing all this since being teens has affected the gang, too.

I don’t know whether this would be better to go live action, or keep it a cartoon, but I think it could be done well either way. Matthew Lillard is playing Shaggy regardless, lol. I do think there'd be more freedom in a cartoon, but only if the art style was good.

Anyway, that’s all my brain came up with last night.

Feel free to share your two-cents on this! I’d love to know what people think about this, if it makes sense with the Scooby Doo universe or whatever, or if it seems like a bit much for them, or if this gave any of you ideas of how this could be done. Just keep it kind, regardless of if you agree or disagree, this is all just for fun.

[deans-baby-momma]

The Story of Us-Chapter 20

A/N: This is a rewrite of a story my good friend @spnbaby-67 allowed me to take and rewrite. All mistakes are mine. This is canon divergent, meaning some things that happened in the show will still happen here but with my own twist to it.

Summary: She and Dean met when they were kids. Even at such a young age, she knew that he was her soulmate. Being the daughter of a hunter, Michaela (Micki) Singer knew the life he led came with a price, but she was up to the challenge.

Pairings: Dean Winchester/reader, Sam Winchester/friend!reader, John Winchester, Mary Winchester (mentioned only), Bobby Singer, and more from the Supernatural universe.

Warnings: Flashbacks are in italics, fluffy stuff, angst stuff, character death, kidnapping, depression, semi-dark themes

Singer Salvage (May 2007)

Bobby and his daughter mourned Sam for hours until there were no tears left to cry and no more stories to reminisce. They both went their separate ways to clean up before reconvening in the kitchen.

Micki opens her mouth to tell her father the news she recently discovered but there was a knock on the door that interrupted her before she could speak.

Bobby looks at her silently asking if she was expecting someone but she shakes her head. He goes to the door and opens it, Micki right behind him.  They’re astonished and confused when they see Sam standing beside his brother on the porch.

“Hey Bobby,” Sam says with a grin. 

“Sam,” Bobby says, hesitantly, “It’s good to see you…up and about.”

“Yea. Um, thanks for patching me up.” Sam pats Bobby on the shoulder as he passes and smiles at Micki. “Hey Mick.”

When Sam lets her go to walk on into the house, both Bobby and Micki turn their heads from watching his descent to look at Dean.

Dean shifts from foot to foot and then smiles. “So Sam’s better.  And we’re back in it,” he tells Bobby and then pushes past the older man and pulls Micki into his arms, kissing her passionately. A little too intense for Micki’s liking. Something is up; something ungodly.  

Micki can tell from the kiss that Dean is trying to hide something. And she is determined to find out what!

When he pulls away, Micki eyes him and watches as he looks at everything but her. Oh, yea he is hiding something. Something major. But what? 

Once the boys tell them about what the yellow-eyed demon disclosed to Sam, Bobby pulls out lore books and tomes and starts looking for answers. Sam begins reading some of the pages over the old man’s shoulder as Dean and Micki stay out of their way.

Dean still won’t look Micki in the eye, no matter how hard she tries to get his attention. Finally, when she is about to break and start asking him questions, Bobby speaks up. 

“I got some more books in the truck,” Bobby says as he pushes away from the table and stands up. “Come on Dean. Come help me. You too Micki.”

Micki is following behind Dean and her dad until they get closer to the truck when Bobby suddenly stops and turns. “You stupid asshole! What did you do?” When Dean looks away, it’s all the confirmation that Bobby needs. “He shoves Dean. “You made a deal... For Sam, didn't you? How long did they give you?”

Micki's heart begins breaking as she realizes what her boyfriend had done. That’s why he wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t meet her eyes. He felt guilty. Guilty and remorseful.

“Bobby,” Dean says but her dad cuts him off before he could say anything else. As Micki stands there and listens to Dean try to explain why he did what he did, Micki's heart breaks even more. It is completely shattered when Dean tells them how long he has left.

“One year.”

Micki breaks down in sobs as her dad and Dean’s conversation continues. “Which is why we gotta find this yellow-eyed son of a bitch,” Dean demands. “That's why I'm gonna kill him myself. I mean, I got nothing to lose now, right?”

Micki is seething through her tears as she listens to the love of her life belittle and dismiss his own life. 

“Nothing to lose. That’s what you think?” Micki says as she reigns in her tears and stalks closer to him. She gets right in his face and if she wasn’t so angry, she might have triumphed over the fact that Dean seems frightened as he pulls back from her. “You goddamned idjit! I’m pregnant, you motherfucker! So yea, you got nothing to lose. Just a lifetime of watching our child grow up! I hate you,” she screams at him before rearing back and slapping him across the face. “I hate you!”

Micki turns and stalks back toward the house as she lets the tears flow. She bypasses Sam in the den and goes straight upstairs, slamming her bedroom door before falling face first onto the bed and crying harder.

Dean had sold his soul to bring his brother back! She couldn't be mad at him for that but she was fucking pissed that he did it so willingly, without so much as a thought of how it would affect her!

Singer Cabin (Present Day 2008)

There's a soft knock on the door as Micki is putting Maren down for the night.

"Mick? Sweetie,  can I come in?" her dad's voice comes through.

"Yea dad, of course."

Micki watches her dad step into the room and turn to softly close the door so as not to wake the sleeping child in her bassinet.

He smiles at his daughter as she sits on the end of the mattress before glancing at his granddaughter.

"What's up Dad?"

"Can't I just want to spend time with you?" Bobby scoffs as he stands there, crossing his arms. "How ya doin'?"

"I'm good, Daddy."

"I know this has to have been hell for you. Dean's back but life ain't exactly the same."

Micki chuckles as she leans forward, her elbow on her knees. “No, it isn’t. So much has changed. We have a child but Dad, so much is still unchanged. It’s going to take some getting used to, him being here, but fuck if I ain’t ecstatic about it. I would change my whole life for that man.”

“I know you would sweetie,” Bobby says as he joins her on the bed. “I know you would.”

“Can I ask you something Dad?” Micki asks as she sits back up, shoulder to shoulder with her father.

“What is it?”

“When he showed up at the house….” Micki begins and then pauses, pondering on how to word her question. “did you have to force him to come here? Was he, shit….did he even ask about me?”

Bobby smiles as he wraps an arm around his only daughter, his pride and joy. 

“Girl, I couldn’t have kept that man away from coming up here if I tried.” 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @atc74​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​  @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @hoboal87​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​ @akshi8278​ @lyarr24​ @maggiegirl17​ @chriszgirl92​

[abbatoirablaze]

At Door's Death, Chapter 4

Word Count:  1.5k

Warnings: sexual situations, threats with a knife, mentions of a gun, threats with a gun.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean growled, pulling out his gun, “God damn it, what are you doing here?”

“Dean,” Sam sighed getting between me and his brother, “come on…put the gun down.  I know you remember Dahlia, right?”

“How could I forget?” he growled, “the stupid bitch is a demon.  She nearly killed Hannah.”

“Singer?”

Dean nodded, “When Hannah turned 14.  Bobby let dad and I take her to Texas for a Poltergeist.  Turns out this bitch set a demon trap.”

“Nice to see you again Dean,” I muttered, “I got the S.O.S from one of your dad’s burners.  Gave me Sam’s address…I tried contacting him, but the line is dead now.”

“Dahlia is that true?”

I shook my head, “no.  I’m not a demon you ignoramus.  Your dad knows what I am.  If I didn’t use you guys as bait though, Houston would be a demon hell hole, so you’re welcome.  And anyways I wouldn’t have killed your beloved Hannah.  I don’t want to face the wrath of an angry Dean.”

“Dean put your gun down,” Sammy groaned, easily accepting my answer, “come on!”  

“Not a chance.”

“Do you want to find Hannah?” I asked, “your dad said something about that on the message too.”

“What do you know?” he asked, lowering the gun.

“Hannah has a fresh trail on yellow eyes.  Didn’t tell anyone.  Your dad found a pre-cog who told him she’s heading West.  Do you want to go before she gets herself killed, or are we just gonna stand here?”

Dean seemed to weigh his options, “I still don’t trust you, but if dad called you…”

“He did.”

“Seems like dad really needs us then, Sammy…” Dean said, “especially if he called her!”

“What was he hunting?” Sam asked with a sigh.

Dean ignored the question and turned to me, “Wait, he sent you a message?  He hasn’t even called me.  He’s missing.”

I nodded, “I’m a hunter too, Dean.  If you weren’t with him he probably figured you were busy doing your own job.  Figures he’d call me.  He probably figured he could count on me more, anyways.”

He shrugged off the comment, “thought he stopped talking to you when you and Sammy left.”

“We both knew I’d protect Sammy when you two couldn’t,” I said, playing my hand, “Guess he needed me to help you two asses.”

He sighed and led us around the car.  Both of them went to the trunk, and Dean held the compartment open with the shotgun, “Let’s see.  Where the hell did I put that thing?”

“So when dad left why didn’t you go with him?”

“I was working my own gig,” he said shortly, “this voodoo thing down in New Orleans.”

“Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?”

“I’m 26 dude,” Dean said in a sassy demeanor.  He turned his attention back to a folder and pulled out some papers, “all right.  Here we go.  So dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho California.  About a month ago this guy-they found his car but he’d vanished.  Completely M.I.A”

“So maybe he was kidnapped,” Sam said trying to reason. 

“Yeah, well here’s another one in April.  Another one in December 04, 03, 98, 92—10 of them over the past 20 years—all men.  All same 5 mile stretch of road.”

“The timeline…” I said, “it’s getting closer.”

He shut the folder and turned towards me.  “Exactly.  Started happening more and more so dad went to go dig around.  That was about three weeks ago.  I hadn’t heard from him since.  Which is bad enough, and then I get this voice mail yesterday.” 

He pulled out a recorder.  It sounded distorted, but it was John, “Dean.  Something is starting to happen.  Hannah’s here.  I think it’s serious.  I need to try and figure out what’s going on.”  It began to break up, almost like he hit a hot spot where EVP would have distorted it, but it came back, “be very careful Dean.  We’re all in danger.”

“You know there’s EVP on that.”

“Not bad, Sammy,” Dean said, smirking, “it’s kind of like riding a bike isn’t it?  All right.  I slowed the message down and ran it through a Gold wave.  Took out the hiss and this is what I got.”

Dean replayed the message and it was the voice of a woman whispering, “I can never go home.”

“Never go home,” Sam said.  Dean gave a half smirk before dropping the recorder into the trunk and closing it.

“You know in almost two years I have never bothered you, never asked you for a thing,” Dean said, guilting Sam into it, “It’s sad I even have to convince you, when Dahlia, someone who isn’t even technically blood is willing to help dad and you won’t.”

“I care about him D-“

“Wait…weren’t you the hot chick from the bar dressed as a cop earlier?”

I rolled my eyes and nodded as his grin got wider.  He leaned against the Impala.

“You know, if we had a little extra time, I’d ask you to cuff me.”

“Oh, I thought I was a demon.”

“I could always take one for the team.”

“And what would Hannah think?” I asked smugly, batting my lashes at him.  He looked as if he were genuinely weighing the options of sleeping with me and having to explain it to the 18 year old he had a crush on.  I rolled my eyes and looked at Sam, “Sam.  It’s obvious your dad needs our help.  Please?  Don’t leave me alone with…him.  You know that the job won’t kill him, I will.”

Sam sighed and looked at the apartment, before looking directly at me, “all right.  I’ll go.  I’ll help you find him.  But I have to get back first thing Monday.  Just wait here.”

“What’s first thing Monday?”

Sam turned around, “I have an interview.”

“What, a job interview?” Dean asked, “Skip it.”

“It’s a law school interview,” Sam said, squaring off against his brother, “and it’s my whole future on a plate.”

“Law school?”

“So we got a deal or not?”

Dean nodded, “Deal.”

Sam told us to wait by the car and that he’d be back in a few minutes.  Dean kept throwing half assed compliments to me, but when I didn’t respond he muttered something about me being a bitch.

 “Oh Dean,” I said, walking over to him.  I placed my hands on either side of his jacket and leaned against him, “this is me being nice to you.”

“What did I ever do to you, huh?”

I leaned against him and felt his hands grip at my hips.  He pulled me so that all of my weight was against him.  I braced myself on the Impala.  I leaned towards him, my nose brushing his.  He was getting caught up in the fantasies in his head, “remember when I was 14 and you were 19.”

He shook his head and tried to kiss me.  I let our lips brush before moving up to the shell of his ear, “well I remember a very eager, Dean Winchester, who happened to break me and my boyfriend up…because  ‘girls are a distraction to a hunter.’ Hmm?” 

“Why would I say something stupid like that?” He asked, eyes closed, leaning even closer so that our lips were almost touching.   

“Because I was dating Sammy, and you didn’t like that,” I said, opening my eyes.  I had pulled out my dagger and aimed it at his jeans, “which is hilarious because you’ve been pining after a girl who’s been a minor as of a few weeks ago for years.”

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, “are you freaking kidding me right now?”

I shook my head and looked him dead in the eyes, “you ever, and I mean ever, fuck me over again…well let’s just say you won’t ever get to bang Hannah you pathetic man whore.”

He smirked, “I never fucked you over sweetheart.  Kissing is a 2-way street.  You kissed me back.  There is some part of you that wanted me, even though you were dating Sammy.”

“I had a weakness for you Winchester men…and I was young and stupid,” I said, poking him with the knife a little.  He sunk back against the Impala, “I see you for the grease ball that you are.”

“Dahlia?” Sam asked.  I looked over to Sam, “Dahlia what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I said, backing away from Dean, “Just a friendly conversation.”

“Friendly with Dean like when we dated?”

I rolled my eyes, and bit my lip, “it’s not like that, Sam.”

“Sure,” he said, throwing his duffel in the back seat, “You okay with sitting in the back?  Or did you and Dean want some privacy while we drove to Jericho?”

I frowned, “Sammy.”

“Oh,” Dean smiled, “this brings up memories.”

“Shut up and drive,” I growled, crawling into the back seat while Sam and Dean got in the front!”

“Alright Miss. Daisy.  Cool it.”

Chapter 5