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chaoticforever · 4 years

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Playboy Having Fun Part 2 | Yandere Dean Winchester x Playboy! Reader x Yandere Sam Winchester

A/N: Part 1 right here!

Fear.

Was one emotion that you never felt.

How could you feel fear? You were someone who smelled fear from a mile away, not someone who has it. It also has to do with how you were trained to be. You were trained to be a soldier, a warrior, a fighter who can take anyone out and can break someone with their own words.

Just how you were made to be. Eons ago.

You, along with Castiel were one of Heaven's strongest soldiers, and one of the most powerful Angels in the Garrison.

The two of you always fought side by side, protecting each other and taking care of any demons, or other creatures who would get in your way. You both led armies at one point and did a hella good job at it, too.

You loved being an Angel of the Lord. Well, that was until he came along.

Caleb.

Another angel that was created by your father to assist you on missions when Castiel had missions he needed to go on alone.

You and Caleb had spent many decades with one another. Fighting and smiting various beings, and even going to earth sometimes when you both had nothing to do, but sit at the park and watch over your father's creations.

He even kissed you at one point which was weird at the time and made you feel something that you weren't supposed to feel.

Unlike Castiel, you actually understood human behavior and emotions, having spent a lot of time watching over them.

And when Caleb saved you from a demon attack, you felt that emotion again and knew what that emotion was.

Love.

You were in love with Caleb and this was a huge problem because you were not supposed to feel human emotions, but you were somehow able to.

You'd hope Michael wouldn't find out.

He was the Viceroy of Heaven since father was absent. He could either lock you up, or banish you from Heaven.

So, you decided to ignore these feelings.

They would surely go away soon and everything would be okay again. That was what you thought at first before one day, Caleb confessed that he somehow developed feelings for you.

Michael found out and flipped out. He liked Caleb, but couldn't have him in Heaven anymore, so he banished him to earth and erased his memory. He was reborn and would live a human life.

You were so pissed at Michael and wanted to hurt him for that, but knew that you wouldn't win that fight. You may be a powerful angel, but Michael was an Archangel, making him way more powerful than you.

Feeling hurt and confused, you called on your father and begged for him to send you to earth and be reborn as well, but with your memories kept.

You wanted to be with Caleb again and didn't even care about being an angel anymore. Father had abandoned all of you, so he could at least grant you this one wish from wherever he was.

And that he did.

You were reborn again and still had the memories of your former life along with a vessel that was yours forever.

As you grew up, you met Caleb again in college, of course he didn't remember who you were, but you were at least hoping he'd remember his former life.

Since he didn't remember you, you took the liberty of being his best friend instead. You'd rather keep him as your best friend since he couldn't remember and became a playboy to hide the feelings that would remain unrequited.

In all of that has happened, you never felt fear. Not the fear of losing Caleb, or the fear of not returning back to Heaven, so what was Castiel on about that?

That was a good question.

"...What?" You asked, setting your drink down on the table, "What did you say?"

"It's Sam and Dean," Castiel said once again, "They have grown an obsession towards you and also put up angel sigils that stops me from entering the bunker. It's best if you stayed away from them."

You blinked at the angel and massaged your temples, letting out a sigh of frustration. Now, this was starting to get out of hand. None of the people you slept with ever acted this way. Were you really that hot? You knew the answer to that, but you were not going to fear these little humans.

"Castiel," You sighed, "I appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. Their obsession with me will go away eventually once they realize I'm not into them."

Castiel shook his head, "Don't be so sure of that, Y/N. Don't ever underestimate the Winchesters. They are dangerous and my grace is running low, so I might not be able to protect you if they come after you."

"And you shouldn't underestimate me either," You retaliated, "Don't forget that I was one of Heaven's strongest soldiers, you as well." You reminded him.

"But I still have my powers. You don't." He pointed out.

"That's true, but I still have my skills and intellect from my life as an angel. That didn't go away, not to mention that I can still see your true form if I want too."

Castiel sighed, it was so hard to reason with you. You were too stubborn to see that something is clearly wrong with them.

You were his oldest friend and he didn't want anything bad to happen to you.

"Just please make sure that you carry your knife around all the time cause humanity is causing me to weaken."

"Jeez Castiel! I'll make sure to carry my knife around. Damn, why did those writers have to make you, a strong angel so weak throughout the seasons."

"What?"

"Nothing, man! Now, go wherever you go, or you can sleep in the guest room."

Castiel went to the guest room that he would sometimes stay in when he came to visit you. He mostly stayed there when he would lie to the Winchesters and tell them that he had Heaven business to attend to, or when he didn't feeling like being bothered by them.

You drank the rest of your glass before walking into your room and crawling into bed, putting your phone on the charger.

You put the covers over your body and closed your eyes, feeling yourself about to drift off to sleep. As you began drifting off, everything that Cas told you came rushing back to you in an instant.

Their obsession would go away, right?

XXXXX XXXXX

Multicolored lights flashed on the dance floor, as dancing sweaty bodies pressed up against each other. Music blared throughout the club as you danced to some of the songs with a bunch of people's eyes on you. Apparently, you were the main focus tonight, but you loved it. You've always loved attention, and the spotlight.

Castiel had insisted for you not to go back to the bar you met the Winchesters at, even though you told him that it's been a week and nothing has happened to you, he was still cautious about it, so you ended up going to this bisexual club that has recently opened.

Alex ditched you when he got here, seeing a hot girl somewhere, and Caleb works the night shifts, unfortunately. So, you decided to dance by yourself with the exception of people looking at you.

A pair of large arms wrapped around you, taking a huge sniff of you, "Damn, you look so sexy out here. You're definitely teasing almost everyone in here with the way you were dancing."

You turned your head slightly to see a dark skinned man with brown eyes and curly hair. This man was absolutely handsome.

"Elliot!" Someone shouted through the loud music and you saw a woman with brown hair and hazel eyes along with glasses walking up to you, "I thought we were going back to your place to have some fun," She whined and turned to stare at you when Elliot didn't respond, "Well, that's not far, Elliot! This guy is freakin' hot!" She exclaimed, and you felt heat crawl up to your face.

"I'm sorry Candance, but this guy is too hot to pass up." He responded, not letting go of you at all as she rolled her eyes.

Though, she couldn't blame Elliot.

You were freakin' hot. Like supermodel hot and she would love to have one night with you herself.

"Or," You suddenly spoke up, and Candace turned to face you while Elliot lifted his head up from your neck to look at you, "How about we turn this into a threesome instead?"

"I'm down for that," Elliot said without a second thought and turned to face Candace, "Are you down for that?"

She pondered at that thought. To have a chance with these two muscular men. There was no way she could pass up this opportunity.

She nodded, "Sounds like a good idea."

Elliot unwrapped himself from around you and took a hold of your right hand, leading you out of the club as Candance took a hold of your left, going with you guys.

Some bodies pressed up against you when you were leaving, but you didn't mind despite feeling their eyes on you.

Introductions of names were made as all three of you exited the club along with Elliot and Candance glaring at some people who tried to take you.

Exiting the club, the cool breeze hit your face and you loved the way it felt since you were in that club with a bunch of sweaty bodies.

"I think you both should be warned," Elliot spoke, which caused you and Candance to look at him, "Most people call me The Punisher when were in bed together."

"Punisher? And why do people call you that?" You asked and Candance nodded.

"That I would have to show you."

"Are you a bad boy?" You teased.

Elliot smirked, "Something like that." Oh, you wanted to know why he's called the punisher.

"Get away from Y/N, and we won't hurt any of you." A gruff voice insisted and to the right of you, there they were.

The Winchesters.

You huffed, "Why are you guys here?"

"We came to bring you home." Sam said, taking a step forward as you backed up behind Elliot and Candance who stood in front of you protectively.

"And I told you both already that what we had was a one night stand, that's all."

"It was more than a one night stand," Dean argued, clearly stuck in his own delusion, "That night showed us how much you love us, and how much we love you. You're coming home with us and you're going to love us."

"You guys are freakin' sick!"

"Were sick?" Sam scoffed, "Us loving you with both our hearts means that were sick? I think you're the sick one and your ours, okay? We love you and you're coming with us."

Elliot pushed Dean and Sam back a few feet with one hand, and they stumbled back slightly in this alley, "He's not going with you guys. You heard the man, he doesn't want anything to do with you both, so it's time for you to bounce."

The brothers shared a brief look with each other before pulling out 2 guns, aiming it at Elliot and Candance as Candance screamed.

Your fight or flight instincts kicked in, and you kicked the gun out of Dean's hand and kicked him where the sun don't shine. He fell down, clutching his groin.

You went to kick the gun out of Sam's hand, but he was quicker. He moved the gun out of your reach and hit the gun over your head, knocking you out.

XXXXX XXXXX

When you awoke after some time, you saw that you were chained to a bed and was in a room that you didn't recognize.

The room wasn't big, but wasn't small either. Pictures covered the creamy colored walls, and you saw a map of the town you resided in. Red dots were covering certain locations and you realized that those were the places you had been.

Seems as if The Winchesters has been watching you long before you had that one night stand with them.

The door opened and Dean walked in, seeing that you were awake.

"You're finally awake, my little prince." He walked over to your side, grabbing the back of your head and tried to kiss you on the lips, but you moved your head to the side and got your cheek instead. He looked disappointed, "Don't be like that, sweetheart. I'm sorry that Sam hit you over the head, but you had it coming."

"Dean, please just let me go," You pleaded. You never pleaded for anything in with the exception of your father, but you were willing to plead if it meant that you could leave, "I don't belong here."

"Actually, you do belong here," Sam entered the room and kissed you on the forehead, "And the reason for that is because we need to protect you. We both have watched you from afar for a long time and infatuation turned into an obsession once we saw how many people are attracted to you. We can't let you leave. We lost so many people in our lives and we can't lose you, too."

"Too many people," Dean chimed in, "And we refuse to lose you too, so we decided to lock you up here for our eyes only. We love you, Y/N. We want you as ours and to never share you with anyone else." Dean kissed you, on the lips this time, "Do you love us, too?"

"I. Hate. You. Both. So. Much."

Boy, was that the wrong thing to say.

Their eyes widened in anger, and Sam grabbed your chin roughly, making you face him as you tried your best to make sure that you didn't look scared.

Sam grinned at you, "We are going to have so much fun breaking you down. And you're not going to have a choice, but to love us." Sam walked out of the room and now it was Dean's turn to grab your chin roughly.

You will break for us, sweetheart. And you'll love us the way we love you. Your playboy days are over. We promise to cherish you and love you for as long as well all shall live, and your going anywhere, my little prince. Ours forever."

Dean left the room and you stared at the wall ahead with a complete blank stare.

You let out a sigh. How did this happen? How did you go from a playboy just having fun to getting kidnapped by two crazy obsessed hunters?

You tried calling out to Cas, but there was no answer.

An unpleasant feeling made you feel like you weren't getting out of this situation.

But you did have an upper hand against them because there was a little flaw in their plan to break you down until you break completely. You couldn't be broken.

After all, how can someone with no soul be broken?

XXXXX XXXXX

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mayonnaisetoffees · 3 years

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Mayo's Fic Recs

List of my favourite fics below the cut; this list is a WIP and completely personal taste; a mix of fandom classics and lesser knowns

Please remember to leave comments and kudos for the authors and podficcers!

*shows particular favourites

Fandoms currently included: Spn, Merlin, Les Mis, BatFam

Fics That Changed Me Fundamentally

Loaded March*** by Footloose. Merlin | E | 1.26M(Series)/ 35k (First part) | 188k hits (First part)

The reason SAS Captain Arthur Pendragon can’t keep a communications specialist in Team Excalibur because none of them are good enough. And then Lieutenant Merlin Emrys gets assigned to his squad, and Arthur does everything he can to prove that Merlin isn’t good enough, either. Except he is.

You can read all about my thoughts on Loaded March here, here, and here. Basically this fic series is beautifully written, has absolutely delicious UST, has found family, magic, and high stakes. It’s been part of my life for almost a decade now, I made friends through LM that I still have to this day, and it genuinely changed me as a person. Plus there are 78k of Extras to itch that I Finished Now What scratch. Parts 1-5 have been podficced and you can find them in works inspired by this one in each part.

Down to Agincourt*** by Seperis. Supernatural | E | 1.12M(Series)/ 154k (First part) | 73k hits (First part)

The world’s already over and they’re already dead. All they’re doing now is marking time until the end.

S7!Dean is transported back to the aftermath of where 5x04 The End left off. Much like LM, DtA was one that I avoided for a while. I didn’t think it would be my thing. I’m not usually into End!verse, it sounded so bleak from the summary, and it sounded so long for something I wasn’t sure about. If you’re reading this and nodding along? You are as much a fool as I was. Yes, it’s the end of the world. But it’s not over yet. This is a beautiful journey in what it means to be yourself, how to survive the end of the world, a How-To for Coups, and a study in food as a love language. I only read this fic this year, but like LM, it has genuinely changed me. Map of the World has been podficced.

Supernatural

Let’s start with the current hyperfixation. All of these are at least passively Dean/Cas unless otherwise stated. I've split into ones from my first time around in the SPN fandom and more recent ones because the vibes are actually really different and it took me some time to adjust (Not in a bad way! In a time has passed they have grown as characters way)

Old-School SPN (AKA the Classics my first time around)

Canon-Compliant or Divergent

Home in Motion* by nomdeplume13 M | 232k | 48k hits

Castiel swore he was done with spur of the moment decisions that permanently changed Dean Winchester's life. A year after the angel's most disastrous, his newest may present the largest challenge of dean's life: Fatherhood.

Did someone say kid!fic in canonverse? This is perfect. Canon divergence from the end of S6. Cas saves a baby from a neglectful mother and gives him to Dean to raise. They all move in with Bobby. Great OCs. Bobby considers Cas his son. Listen everything I say here will not be able to begin to encompass how much I love this fic. Just trust me on this one.

Named* by RC_McLachlan M | 95k | 95k hits

Jesus Christ is dead. Somehow, that isn't the worst part of Dean's week.

With a summary like that, need I say more? No but I'm gonna. This is one of the funniest fics I've ever read, but it doesn't take any emotion from the serious moments, if anything it heightens them. There are so many quotes from this I think about all the time. It was written in 2010 and so there's a bit of misogyny/character assassination of Anna in places.

Second Childhood by CloudyJenn (read by exmanhater) G | 16k (1h30) | 10k hits

"Dude, I can't do this whole thing by myself," Dean said with far more desperation leaking into his tone than he liked. It would just be too much to make it through hell and death and Lucifer only to have Castiel bail on him because of a frigging baby.

They beat the Apocalypse (OG-S5) and then Sam gets de-aged by a spell. I've listened to this so many times I know it by heart, it's an ultimate comfort fic to me.

Defy Any and All Expectation* by Tenoko1 (read by Tenoko1) M | 138k (14hrs) | 37k hits

Chuck's newly released books tell of another war between Heaven and Hell. Team Free Will sets out to try to defy prophecy, only to realize there is a lot more at stake and amiss than the not-quite-accurate words of one Prophet of the Lord. Along the way, Dean and Cas' relationship continues to evolve into something neither expected or were prepared for, all of their lives transforming in ways no one could have expected. But with no shortage of cases, monsters, and mayhem, it's going to require the help of new friends and old enemies if they're to have a hope of saving the world one more time. Alternate Season Six.

So this is a re-written version of Tenoko1's The Path We Choose which I don't think is around anymore. By the time I was reading the re-write as each chapter came out, I knew every single line of TPWC and it wasn't all that much shorter. It's such a perfect canon divergence because they are all 100% in-character. If you're into podfic, you already know what an absolute gift 14 hours is, but if you have never tried podfic before, Tenoko1 is a fantastic place to start. Her voice is soothing and energetic and her Cas sometimes comes to mind when I'm reading fic in Misha's place (sorry Misha)

His Fucking Kids 'Verse by 8sword M | 96k(Series)/ 3k (first part) | 26k hits (first part)

Jesus, the school should just have a parking spot labeled, “Reserved for the Novak-Winchesters,” because Dean’s getting sick of having to cruise around the parking lot looking for a spot every time he gets a call from the principal about Emma.

Emma survives and Dean and Cas are raising her and Claire. This fic series will make you laugh, make you cry, and (nowadays) make you wish Emma had survived to be a part of Wayward Sisters.

One Species Too Many by wallmakerrelict E | 22k | 37k hits

While Dean is laid up for a month after breaking his leg on a hunt, Cas decides that it's a perfect time to adopt a litter of kittens. But even though he's gotten better since Purgatory, Cas still isn't quite the same as he was before fixing Sam's head, and being trapped in a cabin with him for weeks on end is making that all the more obvious to Dean. When Sam takes off on a hunt, Dean has to figure out on his own how to navigate his new relationship with Cas while also helping to raise a bunch of fuzzballs that aren't even cute. Not even a little bit. (Well, maybe a little bit.)

Dean breaks his legs, and honey!Cas brings home some kittens to foster. It's achingly sweet and also painful because you know Dean wants to fix Cas but there's nothing to fix. It is tagged for ableism for this.

Tripping* by Hatteress E | 49k | 78k hits

That time the universe decided Dean belonged with Cas and wasn't afraid to pull out the big guns to make it so. Big guns in this case being obsessive fangirls, archangels turned tricksters and overly enthusiastic cupids. Welcome to Dean's life.

Alt!S5 and it is beautiful. Also any fic with Missouri is an automatic win.

Broadway Musical by Grifitings M | 12k | 79k hits

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle. The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at. Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

Jimmy deserves a sainthood and frankly I don't even want to hear about crack if it's not on the level of the Host yelling at Cas not to touch the butt.

Classic AUs (AKA AUs from my first time around)

Try Something Tuesday by almaasi E | 48k | 144k hits

Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hell not? Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only...

This was one of the first spn fics to really really stay with me and it never really left.

Rock 'n' Roll Queer Bar by ChasingRabbits E | 127k(Series)/ 8k (Part1) | 29k hits (Part1)

Ellen and Jo Harvelle run Harvelle's Roadhouse, a bar that unintentionally becomes a beacon for wayward queer souls. Her employees: Dean, the smartass runaway with a big heart and bigger mouth; Castiel, the college drop-out turned hippie; his (surprisingly heterosexual) trouble-making brother Gabriel; and Charlie, who has been told several times that the back room is not to be used for after-hours Dungeons & Dragons games. But there's a lot of love in this place, and a new family for anyone who may otherwise be without.

This series. If you've ever felt unsure or out of place or anxious or just really felt like no-one understood you, this fic is for you. I first found this series when I was coming to terms with my queerness and I genuinely think it was invaluable. Also I am a sucker for the go for a dinner at Cas's family and end up storming out trope.

Play It All Night Long by janie_tangerine (read by Tenoko1) NC17 | 43k (4hrs)

The rom-com-ish one where Dean hosts a late night radio show, Castiel is a regular listener of his who starts calling one day and ends up calling more often than not and Dean finds himself liking it. This, until one day Castiel calls for not exactly petty reasons (just before Dean's brother Sam is visiting with his girlfriend for spring break) and things get very, very crowdy at his place. He also doesn't know it's just the beginning of it. Also features Gabriel, Chuck, Andy, the Roadhouse crew and a huge amount of music quoted. Especially Bob Dylan.

Again, this podfic has got me through many a night of insomnia. Cas calls in after a particularly shitty day and it all goes from there.

New-School SPN (AKA post-2014)

Canon-Compliant or Divergent

Tall Grass by aeli_kindara E | 57k | 28k hits

“I think we should have a garden,” Cas says. Dean looks up from his beer. He hasn’t had that much to drink, but Cas still has a vague look of unreality about him, a splash of living color that doesn’t fit in the bunker’s echoing stillness. Dean didn’t hear him coming. A lot of the time, Cas is so unobtrusive it feels like Dean has the bunker to himself, with Sam away. Dean shakes his head to clear it. “A — garden?” he repeats.

There is a reason you will see this recced time and time again. It healed parts of me I didn't know needed healing.

So Says the Sword* by komodobits E | 85k | 73k hits

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’ Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected

I saw ssts mentioned in like every single If you're getting back into the fandom READ THIS rec list. For good reason. It's described as "canon-adjacent in that seasons one to three happened exactly the same, but when Dean goes to Hell, he is not raised by Castiel". It's one of the most interesting concepts I've read and it's one of those fics where the writing style will stick with you. Castiel POV in a way you've never read before.

Aching in the Absence of You* by sobsicles E | 95k | 9k hits (in 5 days)

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back. He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales. "Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time. By nightfall, Cas is gone.

If you don't already know sobsicles, I am delighted to introduce you to the person who will smash you to pieces with a hammer to put you back together Kintsugi-style. This one is post-finale but without 15x18 (it'll make sense as it goes). Cas says he's going to leave again and again Dean doesn't ask him to stay. Full of lines so beautiful they'd make Shakespeare weep, Sobsicles has this way of writing that is so evocative and paints such a clear picture. Fair warning, if you're Dean-coded, this might be A Lot.

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)** by sobsicles E | 108k | 25k hits

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next. ~~~ Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want." "What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before." "Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out." "Easier said than done."

Yes, two sobsicles recs back to back. This one I read first and it still holds such a special place in my heart. A sign of a good fic is being able to picture it perfectly. The sign of an amazing fic is that when reading this I was so in Dean's shoes I could feel a pool cue between my hands and Baby behind my back. And I sobbed like a baby in this. It has probably my favourite ending ever. It's genuinely beautiful. If you don't read another on this list, read this one.

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara M | 52k | 14k hits

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean. (A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

The ultimate Cas character study and interwoven with poetry.

So There It Is, I've Said It All by PorcupineGirl (read by Ceewelsh) G | 4k | 13k hits

"Why, do you have something you need to say to me that you don't think I'll like?" I think I'm in love with you. "Yeah. I guess so."

Dean figures out he's in love with Cas then can't stop thinking it. This is genuinely beautiful and if you've ever had trouble actually saying the thing you're thinking, you'll relate to Dean here. I recently did the podfic for this.

you won't find this place alone by amidsizedfrog G | 9.5k |

When Claire said she was dropping out of college to pursue hunting full time, Dean said, “right,” and left the room. Or, the cross-generation conversation about formal education, choosing your own path and figuring out what it looks like to find a family. Or, in other words: "But what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell-attitude, and I'll figure it out." - Dean Winchester

This is a beautiful look at education in the hunter world, and I love anything that looks at Dean and Bobby's relationship and this does it perfectly. Also best cameo ever.

Seek to Know You Better by ahurston E | 33k | 23k hits

Dean and Cas, a long stretch of highway, and 36 questions empirically designed to make two people fall in love. As if they weren't already.

This is perfect. It has a lovely slow pace like it has the vibes of an indie film if that makes sense? Like it's two guys going from place to place talking. It was an instant favourite.

Newer AUs (AKA more recent AUs)

And This, Your Living Kiss* by opal_bullets M | 57k | 69k hits

Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

When I asked which fics were absolute must-reads for someone who'd been out of the fandom a few years, this was said repeatedly. But what really got me to read it was everyone actually told me more about what it meant to them than just the summary. It's a study in poetry, a study in learning who you are and who you used to be, and a reminder that it's never too late.

The Graveyard Shift* by riseofthefallenone, PurgatoryJar E | 620k | 175k hits

Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

A fantastic magical realism fic - magical creatures live and work with humans. Gabe and Cas run a coffee shop, Dean is a fireman, and the burn is slow and delicious and the intrigue kept me reading for like a week every single spare minute.

Painted Angels by WinJennster E | 106k | 162k hits

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

The first part of this I actually saved back when I was first in the fandom but I never got around to reading it (I had a To Read folder of 100+ fics that I absolutely dove into when I got back into spn) and the rest of the series finished in 2016 so I'm counting it in this section not the other. On the one hand, I wish I'd read this when it first came out. It's beautiful and heartbreaking, and so visual. On the other hand, I think I appreciated it a lot more now than I would have seven years ago. The parallel of me coming back to the old fandom that I loved dearly with Cas coming back to see someone and places he loved so much really hit. (Although coming back to the spn fandom was much easier and much less heartbreak!)

Finale Fix-Its (yeah fuck you Dabb that this has to be a whole category)

The Goldenrod Revisions by aethylas M | 66k | 15k hits

A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.

Script format re-write of 15x19 and 15x20 into a 5-episode finale fix-it. As far as I'm concerned, this and chocolatecakecas's American Pie fanvid are the Supernatural finale.

break the skin (to break the barriers)* by sobsicles M | 30k | 9k hits

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment. ~~~ Dean is silent for a long, tense moment, then he gruffly says, "It's not for banishing the angels. It's to summon them. So, it doesn't—it's not to get rid of 'em, but to draw 'em in." Mitzi can't help but glance up at him at that. His voice is so heavy with so much unexplained pain, and she doesn't understand why, or what angels have to do with it. She knows religion can impact people. She's very aware that it can get complicated, and that it can be a huge source of pain for someone, but Dean sounds grievously wronged, somehow, as if it's a truly personal thing. She pushes through, focusing back on her job, clearing her throat before murmuring, "Well, I guess we all want angels to visit us sometimes." "Just the one," Dean mumbles. "Your guardian angel?" Mitzi asks. Dean breathes out, "Something like that. As close to one as an angel will ever get."

Therapy through getting tattoos and telling your life story to someone who obviously doesn't think it's real. Outsider!POV not just done well, but done literally the best.

Kingdom Come by ahurston E | 17k | 10k hits

Cas wakes up on the coast of Maine. He makes his way home.

I don't know if this counts as finale fix-it as it's more fuck the finale we're ignoring that. There's just so much love and care in this fic.

The Family Business by chai_lattes M | 16k | 5.5k hits

It's all over. It's been weeks since Chuck's defeat and Cas' return from the Empty. There are no threats on the horizon, no apocalypses to stop, but there's something that keeps the Winchesters from being happy. Something that's maybe always been there. On their way back from a hunt, they find John Winchester, back from the dead.

If you're anything like me, you start rubbing your grubby little hands together at the tag John Winchester's A+ Parenting like yes let's address this! This is one of the best examples of John coming back and how it jars with the life that they have built. Also Claire and Jack getting to share screentime!

Merlin

If I have a forever fandom, it's Merlin. I've always kept one foot in this fandom, and it introduced me to fandom, and most importantly to podfic which kinda had an impact. All Merthur unless stated.

Canon-Verse

Seven Magpies by syllic (read by lunchee) E | 33k (3hr15) | 58k hits

Arthur opened his eyes a minute later to the sight of seven magpies streaking across the top of the clearing, their shapes dark against the white clouds and the muted grey of the sky. He tried to remember what it was that seven magpies meant—he'd had a nurse who had sung the rhyme to him as a child—but couldn't. Arthur wakes up somewhere he doesn't recognise, but where he clearly belongs.

Okay so this is an AU but it's Canon-AU so it's going here. Fantastic role reversal fic that you will be thinking about for weeks.

and from your grace, i fell by TheDragon (read by Ceewelsh) T | 4.6k (41mins) | 13k hits

“Where’s Merlin?” he asks the maid. “Where’s that idiot of a Court Sorcerer?!” “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty. I thought you knew,” the maid replies, not daring to look him in the eyes. “He’s taken ill.” “And he couldn’t be bothered to tell me himself that he would be unable to attend today’s council meeting?” Arthur questions, voice full of acid. “He hasn’t woken since he collapsed two days ago, Sire,” the maidservant says, blissfully unaware that what she’s saying the power to stop Arthur’s heart in its tracks.

When I first read this, it had me completely transfixed. I could not stop reading. It was so raw and so full of emotion. I was then lucky enough to get TheDragon in our exchange, so I did a podfic for it and it's probably the most proud I've been of one.

Modern AU

The Student Prince* by FayJay (read by FayJay) M | 145k (15hrs) | 696k hits

A Modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love...

A classic is a classic for a reason. I'm also pretty sure this introduced me to podfics so like special place in my heart x2. Did you know if you filter AO3 by hits on Merlin, this has 426k more hits than the second result? Now that is a Fandom Classic.

Drastically Redefining Protocol* by rageprufrock (read by lunchee) E | 46k (5hr30) | 269k hits

In which Prince Arthur meets Merlin and all hell promptly breaks loose.

As I always say, if this can happen to me and I still love the fic, nothing is going to change that. Arthur hides from his duties in a cupboard and gets stuck in there with a chainsmoking med student.

Fundamental Imperfections by Starlingthefool (read by bravenclawsome) M | 12k (1hr35) | 123k hits

In which an argument about Dickens leads to a Twitter scandal, broken bones, midnight conversations, and transatlantic longing. (Or, an AU with Arthur and Merlin as moderately famous authors.)

This fic has everything: Charles Dickens, long distance texting, Morgana choking a Sherlock cosplayer with his own scarf. This is the ultimate comfort fic and I compare all fics to this even when they're incomparable. I never read the sequel because it was WIP and I was waiting for it to complete, it hasn't been updated since 2015 and apparently ends on an unhappy note, so if you're going to read the sequel you have been warned.

Les Mis

Modern!AU

Overzealous Oddities by YassHomo e/R, Courf/Cosette/Marius, Comb/Ép | G | 6.4k | 4k hits

Courfeyrac: Remember when I smashed our tv and we laughed about it? Enjolras: No. Courfeyrac: Let me rephrase Courfeyrac: I've smashed our tv, lets laugh about it.

I love me a text fic and this is in my opinion the best one around. Just look at that summary. I have quoted that so many times.

But Paris was a very old city and we were young* by GingerNinjaAbi E/R, Courf/Jehan | M | 99k | 42k hits

Perhaps somewhere in between all the cups of coffee, shots of tequila, sunny March days, terrible lumpy jumpers, love, cigarettes, drunken nights and the desire to change the world they'll all leave Paris with a degree in something. Or not. Grantaire's money is on no. But he's a pessimist who's hopelessly in love, so perhaps his opinion shouldn't count.

The ULTIMATE modern!AU tbh.

Tagged by Salomonderiel E/R, Courf/Jehan | E | 155k | 28k hits

So there's this artist. He could probably be compared to Banksy, but he's a lot more... cynical. He shares rooms with a poet who braids his hair with flowers, in a flat near Covent Garden they rent from a short-tempered shop keeper with a penchant for fans and who'd do anything if you mentioned Poland. Sometimes, the three of them will go and deface public buildings in London whilst completely smashed off their heads. And then there's this, shall we say, 'revolutionary'. He has a band of other revolutionaries, who all meet at this cafe by Borough Market. He shares rooms with his best mate, a philosophy student, spends too much time with a flirty guy who has a thing for poets, goes boxing with a guy in a red vest, wants to punch the wet sop who drools on the blonde waitress and is getting tired of this guy who keep breaking his laptops through sheer dumb luck. Thank god the hypochondriac's there to keep an (slightly too) attentive eye on their stress levels. The revolutionary thinks the graffiti artist's work is a waste of space. The artist thinks the revolutionary's campaigns are a waste of time. And all the while, the poet and the flirt drool over each other in the background...

This is perfect and it's funny and it's beautiful and it rips my heart out multiple times.

Canon

To Be Free by kjack89 (read by Ceewelsh) Gen, Cosette/Marius | T | 3.8k (32mins) | 375 hits

Three blows from a bayonet had transfixed Combeferre’s breast, followed by a fall from the barricade as he rapidly lost first blood and then consciousness. But neither of these, it seemed, was enough to kill him, as much as later he might perhaps wish that they were.

I read this because it was on a list kjack89 did of their favourite fics which don't necessarily have the same hits traffic. It's nothing I would have usually read (canon era, not e/R, MCD) but I am so glad I gave it a go. It's a study on what if Combeferre had survived the barricades too and the guilt. This stayed with me for days afterwards until I eventually messaged kjack89 to get permission to podfic it.

BatFam

Canonish (I don't know differences between canons but these are all they're superheros fics)

Robins United by laceymcbain (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | T | 49k (6h15)/ 19k (2h25) (First part) | 103k hits

Bullets, knives, a three story fall, even a fucking crowbar hadn't managed to keep Jason down permanently, but Dick Grayson (and the rest of his "family") was going to kill him with kindness.

The ultimate batbros series. Also if you haven't heard reena_jenkins' podfics before, you are welcome. Pre-pandemic I took a lot of public transport and reena_jenkins kept me sane.

batcoons by drakefeathers (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | G | 6k (49mins) | 14k hits

Jason and raccoons have a lot in common. (Additionally: his so-called family are much bigger pests than the stray animals hanging around his safehouse.)

This is funny, it's heartwarming, and it's a really good character study.

Here Comes the Sun by batsy_rocks Clark/Bruce | T | 19k | 20k hits

Clark Kent is a kind-hearted reporter working in the big city. Bruce Wayne is a stressed dad of four with no idea of what he's doing. Then they meet.

Bruce Wayne is a Tired Single Dad™. It's genuinely such a sweet fic.

#fic rec #spn fic rec #merlin fic rec #les mis fic rec

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fandomstuff67 · 4 years

Text

Words of the Heart

I was just thinking about this idea and I wanted to write it. This fic takes place in a canondivergent world where Cas was rescued from the empty and Dean never died. This is the first time I’ve written from Claire’s perspective so I hope it turns out okay.

Word Count: 1.8k

As usual, read on Ao3 or below

Claire didn’t know why she was so nervous. This wasn’t as big a deal as she was making it out to be; everyone knew already. Jody, Donna, Kaia (obviously Kaia), Hell the whole town probably knew. So why she was pacing her room, scuffing the floor, and worrying her hands into knots, was beyond her.

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine,” Kaia said from where she was sitting on Claire’s bed, watching her girlfriend wear a hole in the floor.

“I know, I know,” Claire replied. And she did know, but still her heart was playing a staccato in her chest and sweat still laced her brow. She started biting at her lip, digging her teeth into the skin there until she tasted blood.

Kaia sighed and stood up, taking Claire’s hands in her own and forcing their eyes to meet. “Alright, that’s it. You need to do something to take your mind off this.”

Claire shook her head. “They’ll be here any minute.”

“You don’t have to tell you them, you know,” Kaia reminded her gently, giving her hands a squeeze.

“I want to,” Claire replied sternly.

Kaia nodded and her hand moved to cup Claire’s cheek, she leaned into the touch. Kaia kissed her softly and then smiled. “It’ll be okay.”

Claire hoped so.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. The sound reverberated through Claire’s body, pounding into her bones, shaking her to her core; she felt her heartbeat increase and she grasped at Kaia’s hand for one last bit of comfort.

She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and then headed out to greet Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack.

“Hey,” she said nonchalantly as she entered the room with Kaia trailing behind her.

“Hey Claire,” Dean replied, a soft smile on his lips.

“Hello,” Cas greeted her.

“Hello,” Jack echoed Cas.

“Good to see you,” Sam said. “You too Kaia.”

Kaia smiled tersely. Claire knew she still wasn’t entirely over what the Winchester’s had put her through.

“Beers all around!” Jody’s voice came from the kitchen seconds before she entered the room, holding two beers in each hand. “Hey girls,” she said when she noticed Claire and Kaia.

This was it; now or never.

She let her eyes fall on Cas and he looked back at her with his sharp gaze, the gaze that was so unlike how her father’s used to be, yet somehow had become just as familiar, just as welcoming and loving and warm.

“Uh, Cas,” Claire began, awkwardly. Cas blinked at her, telling her to continue. “Can I, uh, can I talk to you?”

Cas smiled, it was a small thing, a light upturn of the corners of his mouth. “Of course.”

“Cool, uh... cool,” she spun on her heel and headed back down the hall to her room. Kaia gave her a reassuring smile as she passed.

Once Cas had entered her room, she shut the door and turned to face him, hardly even able to meet his eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

Of course that was Castiel’s first assumption and of course he couldn’t be more wrong.

“No,” Claire replied, almost a little too quickly. “No,” she repeated, this time a little more controlled. “I just wanted to tell you something.”

“Oh,” Cas said, his eyes lost some of their worry and Claire brushed past him to stand by her desk and fiddle with the edge of a notebook.

“God this shouldn’t be as hard as it is,” she muttered in annoyance at the notebook.

She took in a sharp breath and then spun back to face Cas. He was staring at her in confusion and concern and Claire knew she had to just lay it out in the open.

“Okay, so, uh. Well. I know you’re not my Dad,” she began. Cas shifted uncomfortably where he stood and Claire instantly regretted her word choice. “But, you... were a part of him, I guess, in a way, and since I can’t tell him, I thought... well, I just thought you were the next best option, and you did kind of become like a father to me, and I know you care so-”

“Claire,” Cas interrupted, taking a step towards her. She looked up at him, swallowing nervously as his steady blue eyes met hers. “What’s this about?”

Claire wanted to look away, but Castiel’s gaze had her glued to the spot. “Okay, well, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna say it.”

Cas nodded kindly. “Alright.”

“I like girls.”

She’d said it. Just like that. It was out in the open. There was no taking it back.

Cas’ eyes softened and a smile spread across his face. Without preamble, he pulled her into a hug and Claire stiffened before letting herself fall into his embrace.

“I know,” Cas said into her hair.

“What?” Claire asked in surprise.

“I suspected, with Kaia and everything...”

“She’s kind of my girlfriend,” Claire said proudly.

Cas pulled away and the look he fixed her with so vividly reminded her of her father. “I’m proud of you.”

Claire didn’t expect to cry. But those four words, coming out of Castiel’s mouth, the mouth her father had used to say grace and to kiss her goodnight and tell stories, they hit her too deeply that she couldn’t stop the tears.

“Thank you,” she replied, voice wobbly.

“Jimmy, your father,” Cas said, “he would be proud of you too.”

“How do you know?” Claire asked. Her father had never really spoken about his thoughts on being queer, he’d taken his religion seriously, so seriously that he let an angel possess him.

“When I...” Cas trailed off.

“Possessed him,” Claire finished for him.

Cas nodded. “Yes. Like you said, I was a part of him. I could see his into his mind, see what he thought and what he believed, and he would have loved you, he did love you, just the way you are.”

Claire sniffed, her eyes welling with so many tears she was forced to blink to clear them away. She found herself pushing her way back into Cas’ arms.

“You know you can tell me anything,” Cas said.

Claire nodded. She had known that. Cas had made it very clear when he’d found her again, tried to be a part of her life, and tried to earn her forgiveness for ruining her family. But she hadn’t truly believed it, until now.

“I know.”

“Can I tell you something?” Cas asked once they’d separated from their hug.

“Anything,” Claire replied.

The most far away look came over Cas’ eyes, the faintest of smiles graced his lips, and when he looked at Claire there was something so earnest in the depths of his blue irises.

“I’m in love with Dean.”

Claire’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t say she was particularly surprised, every time she’d been around the two of them they seemed to never be able to take their eyes off each other. Really, she should have suspected.

“That’s- wow.”

“We’ve been together for a while now,” Cas said, and there was the flicker of a flame in his words, lit with love.

“That’s awesome,” Claire replied, beaming at him.

“It is,” Cas agreed. After a moment he looked at her and said, “you were really scared to tell me, why?”

Claire looked at the ground, the laces of her shoes were suddenly very interesting. “You were an angel, I dunno, the Bible and stuff says what I’m feeling is wrong and I just thought - worried- that you’d... reject me.”

Cas’ warm hands took ahold of Claire’s shoulders and she was forced to look up at him. “The Bible is wrong. People misinterpret many things, and a flaw in translation played a big part in the thought process that was invoked upon the world that being queer is wrong. Chuck -God- himself, was bisexual, did you know that?”

Claire’s eyes widened in shock. “No.”

Cas smiled. “Well, now you do. Nothing you’re feeling is wrong, Claire. It’s good, and being with Kaia clearly makes you happy, right?”

“It does,” Claire agreed.

“Then it is anything but wrong.” Cas regarded her for a second before asking, “do you want me to tell Dean, or would you like to do that yourself?”

“You can tell him,” Claire replied. “You were the one that I really wanted to tell in person.”

“I’m happy that you told me.” Cas gave her shoulders a squeeze and then tilted his head towards the door. “Should we return to the others?”

Claire nodded. “Yeah.”

Cas led the way and Claire followed him back into the living room where Cas instantly sat down beside Dean and placed a kiss on his mouth. Dean grinned at him and slung his arm around Cas’ shoulders.

Kaia stepped up beside her and let their hands meet. “It went well?”

“Better than I could have imagined,” Claire replied.

Later that night, after dinner, while Claire was helping Dean clean up, he leaned over to her as he handed her a dripping wet plate.

“So, you and Kaia,” he said, eyebrows raised and a smirk on his lips.

Claire blushed and shot back, “so, you and Cas.”

Dean chuckled softly but nodded. “Yeah. I never thought we could- but yeah. Me and Cas.”

“You look happy,” Claire commented.

“We are,” Dean replied, a smile touching his eyes.

“Me and Kaia are too.”

“I’m proud of you for that, you know,” Dean said.

Claire’s heart soared to hear those words coming from Dean. “Thanks.”

“No, really. I know I haven’t always been the greatest towards you. A lot of that had to do with when I had the mark, but a lot of it was also just me. But I wanted you to know, that you’re killing it out there, kid. Doing better than I was at your age, anyway.”

Claire glanced over at where Jack and Cas were talking on the couch in the next room and then back at Dean, who had followed her gaze. “I think you’re doing pretty well, now.”

Dean grinned and Claire couldn’t help with smile with him. “Yeah, I am.”

Claire paused in her drying to pull Dean into a hug. “Thanks, for everything.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Dean said as he hugged Claire back.

Claire reached behind Dean to scoop a handful of soap suds from the sink which she promptly flicked in Dean’s face when they pulled apart.

“Hey!” Dean shouted indignantly.

“It was getting too mushy in here,” Claire replied with a smirk.

Dean rolled his eyes and flicked his own handful of soap suds at Claire which she tried to dodge, unsuccessfully. “Yeah, well, love does that to you.”

Claire nodded mindlessly as she spared a look over at Kaia, who was laughing at something Jack had said. Her heart fluttered in her chest and when she picked up a cup to dry it off, she found that she knew exactly what Dean meant.

Tag list (ask to be added or removed)

@anotherdowneyfan1 @tearsofgrace @quxxnxfhxll @rebelangel67 @professorerudite @adsdragonlover @wantstoflyafraidtofall @goblinwritergay @cassgetoutofmyass0907 @nguyenxtrang @destielskygalaxypalace @im-your-huckle-berry

#supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #destiel #dreamhunter #claire novak #kaia nieves #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #jody mills #jack kline #coming out #family #my writing #soft moments

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luna-nigthshade-wood · 2 years

Text

What they don´t know, will hurt them

Summary: Dean Winchesters attempts suicide on a dirty motel bathtub, ending brain dead on a hospital. A trickster promises John and Sam that he will save him for “free”, as long as they both get through watching a series of Dean´s memories, good and bad. The twist is that they will feel everything Dean did at the time and they can stop it at any time, but then Dean will die. They both accept thinking it cant be that bad. Spoiler: it is worse.

Chapter 19

TW: Relationship abuse, sexual coercion, sexual abuse, rape, alcoholism, infidelity

The screen starts again and Sam is hopeful, he is hopeful that this time a good memory will come out of all this, he doesn’t remember much about Lee, but he remembers that his father let both boys to hunt together so he cant be bad, right? Besides, his brother deserves to be happy, and honestly he can use the break, all Winchester can. Dean´s bisexuality does come as a shock for Sam and at the same time it is kind of obvious, he has seen Dean´s eyes linger once or twice on a hot guy, but honestly he thought Dean was so far in the closet that he might as well be in Narnia, he never thought that Dean would ever act on his feelings towards men, but apparently he is wrong (then again if something he has learned is that he is wrong about of things about his big brother)

John is warier about the situation, he never really liked Lee, he always thought there was something shifty about the guy and he didn’t like how Dean behave around him, that was his oldest reckless´ age, Dean seemed to returned from every hunt with a variety of cuts and bruises while Lee seemed no worse to wear, obviously Dean was picking up the slack of the other hunter, why he kept hunting with him is anyone’s guesses but it might have something to do with Dean´s puppy crush. John shifts awkwardly in his seat, he knows of Dean´s bisexuality, of course he does, there is no way he couldn’t have known, his son wasn’t as discreet as he thought himself to be, but John never said anything about it, whether negative or positive, probably because he wouldn’t have known what to say; not to say he understand Dean´s preferences, but after all the fucked up things he had seen, he knows better than to judge, he just thinks that things would be simpler if his son just dated girls. He is not even sure if Dean and Lee ever were a thing to begin with, maybe he is reading way too much in the situation, better wait and see and then make a judgment.

The scene starts and this time the Winchesters can see Dean, Lee and Caleb sitting in Bobby´s yard drinking. They are in the middle of a lively conversation:

-I am just saying they could have at least take us as backup, a pack of shifters is not something to laugh about- Lee says

-Hear, hear- Caleb and Dean respond

-It kind of sucks that we can only be babysitters- Lee says

-I am kind of sure that my old man doesn’t even trust me to do that- Dean says bitterly

-Oh c´mon dude, you cant keep beating yourself up for that- Caleb responds clapping Dean´s shoulder. If Sam wasn’t feeling guilty before, he certainly is now.

-Why? What happened?- Lee asks

-His brother, the runt upstairs, gave him the slip- Caleb answers

-Man, that sucks, I would be pissed if I were you- Lee tells Dean

-Nah, man, Sammy is a good kid and he is my responsibility, should had paid more attention- Dean responds

-Well, I think you deserved better- Lee responds, getting a mumbled thanks from Dean. The three young men stay silent for a while before Caleb´s says his good nights and enters the house. Dean makes a slight movement as to get up but is intercept by Lee.

-Hey, dude, I meant it, you should have some fun and dropped some of the responsibility, I think you earned it

-I will think about it- Dean says with a fake smile

-Oh c´mon, handsome boy like you, you must be a hit with the ladies- Lee says rising an eyebrow

-I…-Dean stumbles

-Or the boys, perhaps- Lee says somehow seductively- I wouldn’t blame them, with those lips of yours, they asked to be ravish- he finishes with a seductive tone, making Dean blush.

Lee starts to crowed Dean´s and in a matter of seconds his lips meet Dean´s, both of them meeting in a slightly chaste kiss.

-That is what I am talking about- Lee exclaims when they pulled up for air, tracing Dean´s lips with his thumbs- Wow! You certainly are a sight, babe. What do you say if we says fucked it to the old cots and go see what Sioux Falls´ night life has to offer, hmm?- Lee asks

-But, we are supposed to stay here- Dean says when he finally retrieves his voice

-Oh, live a little bit, besides your brother wont be alone, Caleb is there with him- Lee says

-Okay- Dean responds dumbly, before the scene cuts

John´s anger spikes up, how dare Dean leave Sam alone? But just as quickly as it came, it deflates, after all, didn’t Dean deserve a chance to be a teenager if only for a little while? That is not to say he likes how Lee is manipulating his son into going, but they are both barely 18, what is the worst trouble they can get? (Not much later John would curse the day he left his oldest with the other hunter)

Sam is feeling guiltier, every word Lee said felt like a stab in the back, Dean missed so much because he had to take care of him, he gave up so much of himself just so he could have a better life, and he repaid him by treating him like crap.

-Where the fuck did you go?- an angrily Caleb asks Dean on the screen

-Relax, junior- Dean answers slightly tipsy- We just went around town for a little something to drink

-Relax? Are you insane, Dean?- Caleb explodes- What would have happened if our father had returned, huh? What was I supposed to tell them? Shit, you didn’t even tell me you were going out, I was worry out of mind.

-Sorry- Dean says regretfully

-Fuck, kiddo. This isn’t you

-Well, maybe I wanted to feel free, for once- Dean spats- Maybe I wanted to forget about my fuck-ups and be a regular teenager.

-Look, Dean, I get that, but you worried me, man

-And I am sorry, I really am- Dean responds, before asking- Are you… are you going to tell my dad?

-No, of course no. No harm no foul. Just tell me next time, okay?

-Alright- Dean agrees and makes movement to leave before Caleb takes his arm and stops him

-And Dean?- he asks- Please be careful around Lee, there is something that I don’t like with him- Caleb pleads

-Yeah, yeah, yeah, mother hen, I will be careful, I promise- Dean shrugs the oldest boy concerns, before retiring to his room, leaving a worried Caleb on his wake.

The next scene starts, the older Winchesters still wary after Caleb´s warning can’t help but feel a whiplash of emotions, the happiness Dean is feeling in the current scene makes them lose some of their suspicious. The screen shows Dean and Lee inside a motel room, apparently celebrating, both of them drinking and laughing.

-For a hunt well done- Lee says clicking their beers together- You were pretty amazing out there, pal

-Thanks, Lee- Dean says while blushing- You were also pretty awesome back there

-One less monster in the world- Lee responds- This called for a celebration

-Yeah?- Dean asks shyly- What were you thinking to do?

-I can think of a couple of ideas- Lee responds wiggling his eyebrows, while sweeping Dean in a passionate kiss

Both young men start kissing hungrily, barely stopping for breathing, both ending on bed, Lee getting on top off Dean, his hands wandering through Dean´s clothes, they stopped on Dean´s buckle but before he can start undoing it, Dean stops him.

-Wait- he says breathlessly- Please, wait a minute, Lee- and to his credit, Lee does stop rolling off until he is besides Dean

-Sorry, got a little bit carried away- Lee says catching his breath- Hey- he says taking Dean´s face in his hands- we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, okay? We go as far as you want

-No- Dean says shyly- I do want to, is just that, I have never done something like this- he confesses

-Never have sex with a guy before?- Lee asks

-Not by choice- Dean confesses, shame clouding the room

-Oh man- Lee says horrified- I am so sorry

-Its okay. Just, sometimes you have to do somethings you don’t wanna while on the road, right?- Dean says non-committedly

-No, Dean, you really don’t have too- Lee answers- Dude, sometimes I wished I could just socked your father, consequences be damned. But just so we are cleared, you don’t want to do something, you tell me and we stop, alright? Last thing I want to do is hurt you

-I do want to, you know, have sex with you, I just don’t know how- Dean shyly says

-Well then baby be ready for me to rock your world- Lee says giving Dean a tender kiss

The scene speeds up the act itself and for that Sam is grateful, for more that the rapes and the forced sex work was tough to watch, somehow seeing the tender love making feels worse, like he is intruding in an intimate moment, which to be fair they are. Nonetheless, a couple of stray tears leave Sam´s eyes, this is the kind of love and tenderness his brother deserves, someone that love him and take care of him, that cares for him the way he cares for them. He wonders what could have happened to break such a beautiful couple, and he decidedly hopes he doesn’t have to figure it out.

John is conflicted because he knows that things between both of them didn’t end up good but still is hopeful that maybe things just weren’t as bad as they make it out to be

The scene slows down, this time showing both young hunter laying side by side on the bed with only a sheet covering them, Dean´s contentment and happiness filling the whole room, Lee lovingly takes his hand as they stare into each other eyes, before Lee exclaims:

-You are beautiful you know that

-I…- Dean says- You are pretty great yourself

-Hey, I mean it, you are a pretty swell guy- Lee replies- I love you

-I love you too- Dean mumbles before he gives him a shy kiss, ending the scene.

Next scene starts right away and this time both hunters are sitting inside a bar, drinking shots, Dean checks his cellphone worryingly from time to time, before Lee puts a stop to it

-Stop worrying so much- he says, shot still in hand- They can deal without you for a few days

-Yeah, I know- Dean says- is just that this is the longest I have been away from them in a long time

-Oh c´mon, you know your old man will call you when he needs you, they always do and then they leave you stranded- Lee claims bitterly- and then the runt will call you when he needs cash before leaving you dry

-No cool man, my dad aint like that and don’t you dare bring Sammy into this- Dean angrily spats before standing up, ready to leave, only to be stop by Lee´s grip in his arm

-Hey, Dee, I am sorry, come here- he says pulling Dean next to him- It is just that I get so angry knowing how they treat you, knowing what you were forced to do and what you did to yourself- he says tracing a scar in Dean´s arm with his finger- I love you so much and I hate how they hurt you

-Yeah, I know- Dean answers, shrugging his arm off Lee´s grip but still sitting in his lap- But you know I hate when you talk shit about them

-Yes, I know darling- Lee apologizes- Next round on me, got it?

-I will hold you to that- Dean says with a small smile

John doesn’t like the tone Lee is taking when talking about them, perhaps is because the guilt he is feeling, because at the end the younger hunter is right, he only called Dean when he needed his help taking care of Sam or in a hunt, never before and never after, he thoroughly neglected his boy, and he cant bear to hear the truth in a stranger´s mouth.

Sam feels guilty as hell, Lee´s words ranging in his ears, because he is not wrong, he remembers feeling relieved at not having his brother “policing” his every move, he only called him when he needed a buffer between his father and him or wanted some cash, never really caring all that much whether his brother was okay or not, because Dean was always okay, right?, he sarcastically asks himself.

-I am just saying you should stop caring so much- is the first thing they hear as the scene begins. Lee´s angry voice following Dean as he is shoving things inside his duffle bag.

-Lee, we talked about this- Dean says, not stopping- My dad called, he needs my help, you can come if you want to, but right now I have to go back to my family

-That is just what I am saying, why do you have to be at those entitled assholes beck and call? Huh? Cant they solve their problems by themselves?

-I already told you to never insult them in my presence, Webb. So better think your next words carefully if you ever want me to come back- Dean spats still walking, stopping by Lee´s tough grip in his hand.

-You are not going anywhere- he says angrily

-Lee, let go, you are hurting me- Dean says squeamish

-No until you stay put

-You are fucking drunk, man- Dean exclaims trying to get out of Lee´s grip without hurting him- Let go now- he finally yells- Just because you don’t get along with your old man, doesn’t mean that…

But whatever Dean was going to say is abruptly cut by Lee´s fist in his cheek, the force behind the unexpected punch making him loose balance and falling to the floor. Hurt emanates from Dean, barely related to the pain of the punch and more from the action itself, shock being the next emotion he feels. Lee must have been shocked as well, because next thing he does is rush to Dean´s side, apologizing over and over again

-I am so sorry, Dean, so so sorry, I didn’t mean to- he babbles- I just got so angry, I am so sorry

-Its okay- Dean says after a while- I am sorry too I shouldn’t have said that

-Don’t apologize please- Lee begs- I promise I am never doing it again, please don’t leave me

-Okay- Dean accepts- But if you do again I am leaving I am serious

-Of course, babe. I love you

-I love you too- Dean replies with his cheek still pulsating

Sam wants to cry, why cant Dean have nice things for once? John´s mind is running thousand miles per hour, he remembers Dean getting increasingly clumsy the more he hunted with Lee, his excuses ranging from a hunt gone wrong to crashing against a door. John never really paid attention enough to see what was wrong with his boy, but now he wonders how many of those injuries were really hunt or accident related and how many were caused by the son of a bitch in front of him.

The memory shifts once more and this time they are back at Bobby´s kitchen. The man himself has the med kit out and he is stitching a cut in Dean´s forehead. Besides the cut, Dean has a black eye and a bruise blooming on the left side of his face. Both hunters are quiet as Bobby works, Dean barely wincing at the stiches.

-Dean…-Bobby starts

-I already told you, I crashed into a door by accident when I wasn’t paying attention- Dean replies to what appears to be an already started conversation

-Yeah and did the door had fists?- Bobby sarcastically asks

-Jeez, Bobby, for the 8th time this hour I already told you what happened- Dean replies defensively

-Aha, and the bruises on your boy knuckles, those appear magically huh?

-Drop it, Lee didn’t do shit- Dean exclaims- He loves me- Dean whispers, the expression on his face making him look younger.

-Listen to me, and listen carefully son. That aint love- Bobby says tenderly, before Dean pulls away

-Well, thanks for the advice, Oprah, but I already told you, it was just me being a fucked up as always

-Boy, you better not used those words to describe yourself where I can hear you- Bobby exclaims- You know you can tell me if something is wrong, right?- Bobby asks, Sam and John are hopeful that maybe Bobby can get through Dean but before the boy can respond a voice booms from the outside

-DEAN??? GET OUT HERE!- John voice can be heard from the outside

-Well, good thing there is nothing to say- Dean shrugs before directing himself towards where his father is calling him, leaving a concerned Bobby behind

A pack of memories is then show, that leave the Winchesters livid, each one contains injured in a different way, with bruises and cuts in places they shouldn’t be. How long did the asshole keep abusing Dean?

The memories finally stopped at one, where Dean is washing dishes in another non descriptive motel room, Lee hugging him from behind, Dean is clearly standing awkwardly while favoring his left leg

-Hello, handsome- Lee slurs and even if they are not there, the present Winchesters can pick the alcohol in his tone- How about you leave those there and you and I have some adult fun?- he says rocking himself against Dean

-I am not really in the mood, Lee- Dean claims- I am kind of tired, how about we just cuddle and watch a movie?- Dean says with something that is supposed to be a smile but comes out as a grimace

-C´mon, baby I have needs, you wont even have to do anything more than be there and look pretty

-I don’t know- Dean hesitated- I am still sore from the hunt

-Exactly, perfect time for me to make you feel good- Lee says- Besides what good is to have a boyfriend if he is never going to want to be with me?

-I…Okay- Dean finally agrees

-You are the best, babe- Lee says, hungrily kissing him and lifting him by the waist.

Lee doesn’t take long in lowering both of their pants and underwear and taking Dean´s shirt off. If the Winchesters were horrified before, nothing prepares them to be confronted with Dean´s purple torso full of a collection of bruises and cuts, which gets worse by the pain Dean feels (and they as well) with the small movement. On the screen, Lee is manhandling Dean, before Dean says

-Lee, please, slow down, you are going to fast- Dean pleads

-Don’t worry, buddy, you are about to feel great- Lee says before plunging inside Dean´s body, muffling Dean´s scream with a kiss.

Later when the act is finally over Lee wanders off to look for a drink, none of the tenderness of before present as Dean just slides off to the floor, head between his hands as he cries bitter tears.

Did Lee just coerced Dean into…? Did they just watch Dean being raped by someone that supposed to love him? Sam´s mind is going into a spiral, does, oh how badly does the events have turned? What should have been a beautiful relationship, it is now in nothing more than ashes.

A fury is quickly invading John against the bastard and himself, is he so disconnecting from his own son that he failed to see what was happening? He doesn’t even ask himself how Dean can think that this is love, he already has an answer, after all didn’t he also beat his son while drunk and still claim to love him, is it so farfetched that Dean forgive the same thing to Lee? Didn’t John inadvertently teach his son, if on a small scale, that sometimes you have to do things you didn’t want to keep the people that love you close? Because that it what boils down to, Dean accepting the love he thinks he deserves, and that is barely little and will never be enough.

The memory changes and this time Dean enters yet another motel room, this time in a rage, the anger pungent in the room, Lee is sitting watching TV and barely spares him a look, before saying:

-Hi, babe, everything ok?- he asks a way of greeting

-Is everything ok? I don’t know, maybe I should be the one asking you that?- Dean thunders

-Jeez, take a chill pill, what got your panties into a twist?

-I just came back from the clinic- Dean answers

-Oh yeah, you were feeling under the weather- Lee says without worry- What? You got the flue or something?

-No, you asshole- he responds throwing him a bottle of meds- You have to take this too, because apparently eventhough I was clean when I started sleeping with you, I suddenly have the clap, you moron, so what gives?

-Oh crap- Lee responds- Knew that chick wasn’t to be trusted. Damn it! Well, it is a good thing it wasn’t something worse- he says

-That it wasn’t something worse? You cheated on me, you bastard

-What? You thought we were exclusive or something? Man, what gives? I already told you I have needs that have to be fulfilled and you keep running off every time daddy calls and you sometimes get a stick up your butt and say no, what was I supposed to do?- Lee says reproaching Dean, making him feel smaller

-I thought we were. I haven’t slept with anyone else- he whispers, tone confused and broken

-And I appreciate your effort, but I am not you. If you stay here with me, maybe we could talk about being exclusive- Lee “suggests”

-I cant and you know it- Dean whispers

-Then don’t come crying to me asking for you to be my only one, you aint a chick Winchester- he replies, before grabbing his jacket and going for the door

-Where are you going?- Dean´s broken voice asks

-I am going out to look for some fun, don’t want your mood ruining mine- he says before shutting the door off, leaving a crying Dean in his wake.

Yet another memory starts and this time both Dean and Lee stormed inside a motel room, anger and despair filling up the room, as Lee grabs a lamp and shatters it

-Freaking people, dude- he screams- we are supposed to hunt the evil in the world and for what? Just so they go around killing each other

-I know- Dean responds with barely concealed anger- Almost wished we have finished them off for what they did to those children. Monsters I get, but humans are crazy- Dean exclaims

-Damn right they are, should have finished the work ourselves instead of calling the cops- Lee yells- I am freaking done. I am quitting hunting, they can fend for themselves for all I care- he finishes

-You don’t mean that- Dean responds

-Of course I do- Lee replies- And you should come with me, they don’t deserve us saving them

-I cant do that- Dean exclaims

-Right, forgot Daddy´s little girl doesn’t have the balls- he says grabbing Dean roughly- Well this is it for me, either you come with or get lost.

-I, Lee, please, let go off me- Dean pleads

-No, I don’t think so, you want to see how monstrous a human can be, babe? Let me show you- he says quickly lowering Dean´s pants and entering him from behind, Dean lets a strangled scream before he says

-Please, stop, Lee, stop, it hurts- Dean begs

-No, don’t think so- Lee replies- Just stay still and look pretty- Dean can barely get another word before he passes out from the pain

By the time Dean wakes up, it is already morning and his body protests every tiny movement he does, Lee is sitting at the edge of the bed, head between his hands, Dean makes a noise that alerts Lee that he is awake. The other hunter starts saying something but Dean (and by default the viewers) cannot make up what it is. Lee smiles bitterly before saying

-I am sorry that it got this bad, Dean- he says- You deserved something better. I am gonna go now, please take care- he adds and without much fanfare he grabs his things and leave.

Dean groggily stands up, trails of blood running in his thighs and new bruises marking his naked skin, he searches for something, before he pulls out his phone and dials a familiar tone

-Caleb?- he says on the phone- think you can come pick me up?

Sam is angry and he is crying and he is not really sure what he is feeling except that he wants to find the bastard and ripped him apart one organ at the time, how could he have done this to his brother? Wasn’t he supposed to care for him? Why, just why?

John is livid, he wants to rip the throat out of the younger hunter, at the same time he is sad, how he wishes that for once Dean had something good in his life, why cant his son catch a break?

-I am going to grab him and hang him by the balls, just wait until I get my hands into that…-says Caleb, barely concealing anger in his voice as he drives the car, Dean´s beaten form slouch in the passenger seat, his tiny voice interrupting Caleb´s tirade

-Please, Caleb, stop- he says, wincing as big pain travels through his side with every movement he makes- Calm down

-Do not tell me to calm down. After what that, that asshole did to you he deserves to be kick where the sun doesn’t shine, the fucking coward- he says angrily, making Dean flinch

-Please, Caleb- Dean pleads, tears in his eyes- If I wanted to hear all that, I would have called Bobby. Besides, it was my fault to begin with, if only I haven’t…-Dean says before being abruptly interrupted by Caleb searing the car to the sides, before stopping it completely, hitting the steering wheel a couple of times for good measure.

Sam is shocked, he has no memory of ever seeing the older boy that angry. But is Dean really trying to justify Lee´s actions, after he beat him to a pulp, after he rap…, no, Sam´s mind can go there, if he keeps thinking about it he would go insane, didn’t Dean deserved to be happy for once? John for his part is having similar thoughts, knowing there were very little things that could get that reaction of the late hunter, not that he disagrees, he wants to track that stupid little asshole and make him wish he was never born.

-Don’t, just don’t- the older man says- Don’t defend that asshole, please- he tells Dean- You didn’t deserve to be beaten and rape by your boyfriend

-It wasn’t rape, he was my boyfriend- Dean defends

-Yes it was Dean, please tell me you understand that?- he says looking at Dean with pleading eyes

-It wasn’t, I know what rape is, and that wasn’t, he just got a little rougher

-And the beat down he gave you?- Caleb asks angrily

-You know me, I am smart ass, sometimes I deserve to be smacked down- Dean replies whole heartedly

-Damn you Jonny to all hell- Caleb angrily replies, hitting the wheel once more

-You are not going to tell him, are you?- Dean says starting to hyperventilating- You have to promise me you wont tell him, please- Dean pleads- I will do anything, I can make it up to you for the gas and the time you took- Dean begs, small little hand going to the older man zipper, scared expression in his eyes. The movement pulls Caleb out of his own head and he grabs Dean´s hand before he can go any further, horrified expression in his eyes

-Not that, never that, you hear me Dean?- he begs- I wont tell Jonny anything, but please never offered me that again, fuck Dean, just please don’t do that. You should never use tour body as a bargain chip, alright?- Caleb asks with pleading eyes

-Nor like is worth something- Dean mutters with a small voice

-Oh, Dean- Caleb says heartbroken before he pulls the younger man into a hug.

The Winchesters hearts break with him as they are forced to confront how little Dean thinks of himself and how little they did to comfort him.

First chapter <<Previous Next>>> AO3

#supernatural #spn au #supernatural au #supernatural fic #spn fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #bad parent john winchester #caleb spn #bobby singer #lee webb #deanlee #suicidal dean winchester

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bellatrixxue · 4 years

Text

Xue’s Supernatural Dare: Wendigo (S1 EP2)

Hello, everyone? How did everyone feel about the finale? Yes? Yes? Oh. Oh. Oh my. Oh, dear.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell that half-assed homophobic chicken-shit fuckbucket’s not gonna stop me, since I strapped myself onto this roller coaster already and I promised I’m not getting out until the ride’s over, so here we go, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Also, those who are in this roller coaster with me, ready? Tag list is: @fangirlxwritesx67 @amazingiam00 @kalliravenne @indecisive20something @2musiclover2 @impossibletosleepthrough @there-must-be-a-lock @wingedcatninja @arvit

Oh my gods this recap is so cheesy I actually can make a fondue out of it. 2000s, everybody!

A WHOLE MINUTE AND A HALF FOR THAT FONDUE

FUCKJUMPSCARETITLEFUCKYOU

So we’re starting the episode with the murder scene first, eh? Is that gonna be a trend?

Oh come on, Chads, you’re out in nature and you’re playing video games? Absorb the nature...before it absorbs you!

Waitwait. Holy shit is that...is that Cory Monteith? Oh, bless his soul...

If the wendigo eats his dick as he’s peeing I’m immediately giving Jensen Ackles $100. For no real reason, I just feel like giving him money for already carrying the show on his back.

I can’t tell if it did or not, so I’m not paying yet.

Aw, Sammy...

"I should have told you the truth.” *Vine voice* BUT YOU DIDN’T

FUCKYOUINTHEASSHOhnightmare. Nightmare. So did he visit her at her grave or not? I need answers.

A week? Goddamn. Poor thing. That man-eating tree’s fucking good at his job, man.

“There’s nothing there, it’s just...woods,” Sam, I don’t know if Jess’s death hit you hard or if you got into law school by eating some ancient dick and/or pussy instead of earning that high score fair and square, but the woods “in the middle of nowhere” (your words) are known to be one of the top places full of weird-ass creatures. Even kindergartners know that.

Ehehehehehehehehe he’s so smol next to his lil bro my lil shit

At least you’re coming up with decent covers this time. No Agent Mulder and Scully ruining things for you this time around.

“Bull” oop-

Oh Dean’s a smoooooooooth operator. Good going, buddy.

AND HE GOT A COPY OF THAT DOCUMENT TEAM DEAN TEAM DEAN

Oh that death really got to Sam. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be a trigger-happy psycho. Or eat the man-eating tree and become one himself.

Oh, Haley’s a cutie! Which one’s her brother? Cory? Discount Enrique Iglesias?

Do you have a card for EVERY profession, Dean? And how do I get them too?

That is a very pretty car. I bet they wasted half the budget on that thing.

Okay, sonny boy, little bro, Broseidon, calm down.

Ah, fuck, Haley and Broseidon is gonna go into the woods, that’s more heads to worry about.

How the fuck does Sam find information this fast? I’m impressed, I take five hours to get to one article for my research paper. Or maybe I’m just lazy. So he really earned his law school interview without having to eat dick and pussy, huh.

Every 23 years? What is this, Pennywise? Are we going to see the wendigo do his best Tim Curry do his best scary clown impression? Honk honk?

“Whatever that thing is, it can move.” And the sun rises on the East, Sammy. Why are you so smart and dumb at the same time? Is this his character trait? It might grow on me.

Ahhh, so Sam’s go-to move at interrogation is doing puppy dog eyes and sympathize with the person. He’d make a good lawyer, shame that man-eating tree.

Go Grandpa Exposition, go!

Go Grandpa Exposition, go, give us information and none at all!

OH GEEZ THAT SCAR. PENNYWISE WENDIGO IS VICIOUS.

Skinwalker, Back Dog...Ooh, those all sound cool! I hope we get to see them soon!

‘Corporeal’ doesn’t sound like a real word, but then again, English doesn’t sound like a real language. Sorry. Moving on.

Sam’s gonna eat the wendigo with that attitude, Jesus Christ.

AND HIS BROTHER, AT THIS RATE. If the real villain turns out to be inside Sam all along I’m gonna flip. Is that why women keep dying and burning on ceilings where he sleeps? Is he secretly Lucifer’s spawn or something?

“Oh sweetheart I don’t wear shorts”. They queer-coded him from the start and they tried to make you believe he was straight for fifteen seasons straight? And some people bought that?

Oh, crap, another crappy death treatment for Cory before he got into Glee...No, I wasn’t into Glee, I just watched a few episodes and I might hate Rachel Berry...And Lea Michele...ahem...

Dean is totally flirting with Roy shut upppppppp

OOP AND THERE ROY GOES OH THE SEXUAL TENSION IS HIGH IN THESE WOODS TODAY

“It’s probably the most honest I’ve been with a woman. Ever.” See. Bi. Bi bi bi.

So...why the coordinates, Daddy Negan? Is this a portal to Hell? A place where man-eating trees grow?

*carefully places death flag on Roy*

Ooooh the campsite is very...haunted house-y. You know what I’m saying?

That’s not Discount Enrique Iglesias, but Pennywise wendigo, yes? Those things can mimic human voices, right?

*Google searches*...There are so many versions of this tale I can’t even confirm or deny it. Dammit.

Maybe Pennywise wendigo just wants some snacks and a nice phone and GPS? Maybe he misses his family in uh, Canada or something?

Daddy Negan’s journal is a e s t h e t i q u e .

I’m so sorry, but the way Sammy smirks as he speaks with those dark, dark voids for eyes? My boy’s a demon. He’s a demon, I’m telling you.

At least Haley has some sense to her. *puts another death flag on Roy*

*PUTS YET ANOTHER DEATH FLAG ON ROY*

True, that. What the heck is Daddy Negan up to with all of this?

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business!” Okay, the way Dean said it gave me chills.

I can actually empathize with Sam here...As whiny and bitchy as he is, he has his reasons to be this way. I guess if I were in his shoes, I’d be less of a Dean and more of a Sam, too. We deal with our losses quite similarly.

Ah, the brotherly bonding moments like these little talks make the show worth it. It’s so heartwarming.

Pennywise wendigo! I didn’t miss you, why’re you here to burst my happy bubble?

I’m starting to see a slight parallel between Haley and Broseidon and Dean and Sammy. Hmm.

Nice meeting you, Roy. Zoop you go.

Haley and Broseidon are taking this rather well, I’m glad they do.

Okay, actual exposition time, thank you.

Whoa, Broseidon speaks! Donner Party! Please don’t remind me of that! Those poor people!

Hibernation and food storage. Delightful, just delightful.

TORCHING? *CALLS RAMMSTEIN*

Somehow, not being able to see the wendigo is scarier to me than what I will probably see itself. Limited budget horror can actually work well.

Oh, dear, Roy literally did a death drop. Badum tissssssssss.

FUCK IT TOOK DEAN THE ONLY CHARACTER I CARE ABOUImean I love you too, Sam! Come on, let’s find him before it’s too late!

A trail of M&Ms! Yes, Broseidon! And Hansel and Gretel refercalled it. Sammy, you and I share the same wavelength?

SHITSHITTHEYTRIPPEDANDFELLINTHEFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Thank the gods the Pennywise wendigo kept them right there. Chances.

DISCOUNT ENRIQUE IGLESIAS IS STILL ALIVE GEEZ BUT ALSO PHEW

Ah, Dean Winchester, I love you so much that I can’t even begin to describe it.

Also how convenient that the flare guns are there. Deus ex machina!

Haley would bode well as a hunter, look at her courage, her will. There are more hunters around than Daddy Negan and the brothers, right?

Yeah, seeing the actual wendigo makes me less scared of it now. It’s unnerving, but still.

TEAM DEAN YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW

Graphics are...alright, but it’s the thought that counts!

Running with the grizzly bear story. Smart Broseidon. Ben. Sorry, you deserve to be called by your real name. I think with practice they could become good hunters, along with their Discount Enrique Iglesias brother! Is there a fanfiction for that? Can I write it now?

...

I AM WILLING TO DIE TO PROTECT DEAN WINCHESTER I

Haley’s a lesbian, that’s why she kissed him on the cheek only. Headcanoned. Also I have a crush on her, she’s really pretty? Like? Heart eyes???

Ah, the siblings parallels again. Let’s hope neither of the two brothers end up in the bed like that.

“Man, I hate camping.” Really. Really really. Really.

“I’m driving”

...

SAM WINCHESTER I’M SORRY I EVER SPOKE ILL OF YOU I WILL PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE TOO I PROMISE YOU I WILL

It’s just a sassy bisexual brother and his little snide bisexual brother on the road to kill evil creatures and find their father and I love this show? Help? Help???

I really, really see the charm of Supernatural now! I’m fully invested in both brothers and their story, and I’m cheering them both on! Let’s get Daddy Negan back and get rid of that man-eating tree once and for all!

Six stars out of five!

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This dare is introducing me to a whole new world, and I really, really am glad I took that jump a few days ago, man!

Thank you everyone for reading my ramblings, and I’ll see you in the day after with the next review! Thank you for sticking with me! Buh-bye!

- Xue

#xue's supernatural dare #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #jensen ackles #sam winchester #jared paladecki #text #i had a really bad day today with my constant pain and aching from the chemo #but this really brought genuine smiles to my face!#what a good show #what a wonderful show #how the FUCK did they fuck it up later #well #i guess i'll find out when i get there lmao

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jaketism · 3 years

Note

for the headcanon thing: archie

a (realistic): bisexual :) very well intentioned ally to veronica (trans), discovered the term via a poster kevin put up for the gsa Back In The Day or something. jughead (ace discourse era) was real pissed about some minor thing on the poster also probably.

b (unrealistic, funny): doesn't know how to read <3 he's been fakin it til he makes this the whole damn time. he CAN write tho. but not read. it's very complicated please respect his privacy. also no one has ever told him the rules of football he's just carefully parsed out a functional but not entirely accurate version of the rules and he plays by those. this impedes his coaching ability but not as much as maybe it should.

c (depressing): he doesn't ask his mom or friends for hugs or anything anymore even tho he often wants to because they never feel as good as they did when he was a kid. he avoids doing certain things that he used to only do with his dad because doing them alone feels wrong to him somehow.

d (unrealistic but i don't care): chucky voice i got a queeah kid. transgendah! (unrealistic in the sense it does not effortlessly map onto canon for me the way trans veronica or trans het sam winchester do but still very much real to me and a part of how i imagine his character. it's just more a part of my imagination of him abstractly than it is immediately while watching the show, while the other examples i watch the show and automatically interpret them as trans, ya know?)

#asks #riverdale #i'm p sure u read him as trans more automatically than me which is based and cool i support it #it's just for me it sits more in the realm of very mildly alternate universe #and compared to other trans hcs that is different like i forget they aren't canon. i don't forget w archie

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gil-estel · 4 years

Text

~✨gil-estel’s long-promised spn rec list✨~

the general criteria:

(all fic will fit at least one, many will fit most)

✓ long (10k+)

✓ published after 2017

✓ canon-verse

✓ plotty and/or casefic

✓ nuanced exploration of dean winchester’s bisexuality

the fics:

Bender by vipjuly (destiel, 13k, rated E)

In order to protect a sorority from a vampire, Dean allows Rowena to transform him into a girl so he can go undercover.

He's still Dean. Just in a female body.

This is surprisingly easy.

Build a Home by domesticadventures (destiel, 20k, rated T)

After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them.

He doesn’t.

Everything Comes Back to You by VioletHaze (destiel, 33k, rated E)

Dean knew better. Of course he did. But Cas seemed so charmed by the antique-filled bed and breakfast that Dean went along with it when the proprietor mistook them for a couple. Telling himself it gave them a strategic advantage to be so close to the crime scene, he agreed to the weekend special she offered them. When the case ended up being a bust, they stuck around anyhow because hey, the second night was free…

it never gets dark by vaudelin (destiel, 30k, rated E)

Normally Dean wouldn't get out of bed for a run-of-the-mill kidnapping, even without the hangover, but when Sam can't even write out the missing kid's name, he has to admit something's up.

Helping Sam, Patience, and Claire figure out who (or what) erased all traces of the kid is as good a distraction as any to get over Cas bailing from an abortive love confession. But when finding answers comes at a terrible physical price, the team is left with no choice but to call in any help they can get.

Like it or not, Dean and Cas have some uncomfortable truths to confront, and when worst comes to worst they'll discover what truly matters in the end.

Kelp! I Need Somebody by andimeanittosting (destiel, 27k, rated E)

It’s been a week since Michael was defeated and Dean freed, but Castiel can’t seem to get back on the horse. Dean, on the other hand appears to have bounced back completely, with one small exception: he no longer dares touch the now-human Cas at all.

When they receive a call from Jesse and Cesar to come investigate a series of mysterious drownings near their New Mexico ranch, Dean jumps on the job, much to Cas and Sam’s dismay. But more challenging than the kelpie they encounter, Jesse and Cesar’s relationship holds up a mirror, showing Dean and Cas the future they wish they could have. When Rowena and Charlie get involved, a shake-up is inevitable.

let me lay here so slow (i need never get old) by vaudelin (gen & bg destiel, 10k, rated G)

The day of Dean's fortieth birthday, told from Lebanon's point of view.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers (destiel, 31k, rated E)

dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas.

One Cold Night by xylodemon (destiel, 16k, rated E)

"Dean, are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'm just —" Dean shivers again. His teeth clack together. "Jesus Christ, it's cold."

So Goes the Song by aeli_kindara (dean/lee webb, 21k, rated E)

The first time Lee meets Dean Winchester, it’s courtesy of a chokehold.

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (destiel, 46k, rated M)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

Suck It, Judy Garland by midrashic (destiel, 20k, rated M)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

Superheroes by aeli_kindara (dean/omc, 4k, rated T)

"I fuckin' hate group projects."

Dylan gives Dean a wary glance. He gets it — he’s not the biggest fan of these things himself. But when you’re a group of two, “I fuckin’ hate group projects” is awful close to “I fuckin’ hate working with you.”

In which a teenage Dean Winchester makes a friend and leaves something behind, and Sammy doesn't know when to shut up.

Talkin’ Bear Mountain Picnic by MittenWraith (destiel, 41k, rated E)

Strange things were happening in a small town in Northern Maine that had gained a reputation as the most honest town in the world in only a matter of weeks. Residents were going out of their way to confess their sins-- everything from jaywalking to murder, infidelity to true love. Sam, Dean and Cas all have their own reasons for wanting to stay far away from an honesty curse, but with Jack and his natural bluntness serving as their last line of defense, they decide to investigate. The last thing they need is another Veritas situation on their hands. The honest little town might be enjoying their newfound liberty to speak their minds, but the cause of this particular curse might prove to be Dean and Cas’s undoing.

The Thirty Six Questions That Lead to Love by aeli_kindara (destiel, 13k, rated M)

“So I need you to be my gay dads,” says Claire.

Though The Course May Change by imogenbynight (destiel, 51k, rated E)

After a couple who went missing several years ago from an Oregon couples retreat are mysteriously returned on the same night that another disappears, Dean and Charlie plan to go undercover to find the cause--until Dean's foot meets his mouth, and he finds himself fake-engaged to Castiel instead.

The Tunnel of Love by xylodemon (destiel, 21k, rated E)

"We might," Cas starts slowly, pausing like he's choosing his words. "We might have to kiss."

Dean just stares at him.

You Start to Grow Wings by FagurFiskur (dean/omc & destiel, 11k, rated T)

Dean feels his face warm up, suddenly all too aware that he’s sitting right next to his very male friend. He can’t make himself look over, too nervous that he’ll catch Eli’s eye and make this whole experience even more excruciatingly awkward. He wants to leave, but he also doesn’t wanna call attention to how uncomfortable he is.

He’s known gay people exist of course, but he’s never seen them outside of Very Special Episodes on sitcoms. Never seen something so explicitly, in-your-face gay.

At seventeen, Dean falls for another man for the first time. Twenty years later they happen to meet again and things are somehow much more complicated.

#spn tag #fic recs

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tomhardysteeth · 4 years

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u wanna say anything for spn ending? Today's their last day of filming

Yeah sure! I love how you worded this ask, it makes me want to give a very serious answer. I’ve been rewatching random episodes the past few days and thinking about how much of my life was shaped by this random lil tv show, both positively and negatively, so here we go.

I started watching Supernatural during my junior year of college, when I was grappling with being gay and religious, and had a pseudo-girlfriend who was emotionally abusive. I remember I started watching the show because I had been on tumblr for a while and thought, well this is a popular show on tumblr and looks like something I’d enjoy, so I might as well try it. I remember barely paying attention to the first season and thinking it was kind of silly, and I distinctly remember making fun of it right up until the season 1 finale when that truck slammed into the Impala and I said oh.

I remember sitting in the dining hall between classes, hiding in a corner with my pink headphones and my laptop, watching one episode after the other, completely consumed by it. My personal life was a mess at the time and I was angry and sad and frustrated, but I could forget about everything for a little while when I watched spn. I remember falling in love with Dean Winchester, season 3, when Sam gave him the amulet.

Because I had already spent a lot of time on tumblr, I knew about Castiel. I couldn’t wait to get to season 4, the anticipation killed me. I didn’t really have a choice in shipping destiel, I literally shipped it before I even watched a single episode of the show lol. My first time watching seasons 4 and 5, I remember how mad I would feel every time the opening credits scrolled at the bottom of the screen and Misha Collins wasn’t listed. I cared about almost nothing but Dean and Cas interacting with each other. I was totally enamored by them, by their potential. At some point I got over that and watched the show because I liked the show, but boy did my heart and brain break for destiel.

I broke up with my abusive girlfriend. I started coming out to more people, including people involved in the Christian campus ministry I was heavily involved in, and it was very very hard. It was 2013. The first episode of Supernatural I watched live was the episode where Dean turns into a fucking dog.

I don’t remember when I started reading fanfic, and I had no idea how to read fanfic. A friend invited me to ao3, what is ao3? I didn’t know. I used my email address as my username. I read Twist and Shout and Pie Without Plot and other very popular fics that I knew about because everybody knew about them. I vividly remember the first fics I read because I was 21 years old and had never had an orgasm in my life and believed sex was sinful and so when the sex scenes in fics turned me on, I felt guilty about it.

I quickly got over that and started writing explicit destiel fanfic.

I still had no idea what I was doing. I know the very first fic I ever wrote was a mess, I’ve completely erased all traces of it, but other than that I began posting with abandon. Pretty much everything I’ve ever written for spn is still on tumblr and/or ao3. I was running a Hannibal blog at the time and started posting more Supernatural content than Hannibal content, so I created a sideblog, @deancasheadcanons, and things very quickly got out of hand after that.

I was depressed, I was confused, I was spending my last couple years of college trying to figure out my sexuality, trying to hold onto a religion that was rejecting who I was becoming, trying to find my identity while picking a career path and being sad and being pulled in a hundred different directions. Sometimes I was working three jobs at once, on top of 17-credit-hour semesters. I was getting a degree in a field I did not care about, and I spent every class reading and writing fanfic, scrolling through tumblr, making internet friends, letting my life be consumed by Supernatural. I projected myself completely onto Dean Winchester and partially onto Castiel and did not even realize it.

I started dressing like Dean, and my sister and brother-in-law noticed and assumed I was gay. They were extremely unsubtle in their attempts at getting me to come out by pointing out the flannel and army jackets, and I did not have it in me to admit to them that I was dressing like a fictional character, but I DID tell them I was bisexual.

I went to therapy every week during my senior year of college, and I was embarrassed about how often I talked about my “internet life,” as I called it. I remember having the arbitrary goal of getting 1,000 kudos on a fanfic, and I remember the day it happened for the first time and I remember going to therapy that week and saying that I didn’t feel any different, that I thought getting attention for my writing would make me feel better, somehow, but I still felt the same, and my therapist asked me if I would still be writing if I was the only one who got anything out of it and I said yes. But I was still obsessed with writing things that were meaningful, and despite the fact that I would receive 10 negative/mean anons per day, I never turned anon off because I desperately wanted people to tell me that my writing meant something to them, that it mattered to them. I was fighting with myself every day over my sexuality and my identity and my purpose, and I put all of that on the shoulders of Dean and Cas.

There was also chubby!dean. I had lived my entire life with this inexplicable thing, this shame that I knew I could not share, that I knew I would just have to suffer with for my whole life, and then I joined the spn fandom and found that there were others like me, others that had a fetish and had similar experiences as I did and were drawn to Dean Winchester because there’s no other character that could make eating and gaining weight be as enticing as he makes it (in fanfic). For the first time in my life I had a community of people that I could relate to about a thing that I never thought I would ever be able to talk about with anyone in my life. I don’t remember if I consciously chose to start posting publicly about it, but at some point I did, and I started writing kink fic, but I was still so uncomfortable with myself and so scared of the things I felt, and I tried so hard to temper myself and not offend anyone and not go “too far” and not be too weird and I was so sexually repressed and pent up and full of guilt and shame, and so now when I go back and reread some of the stuff I wrote it feels like reopening an old wound and letting myself bleed out.

I was constantly comparing myself to others and wondering why I wasn’t getting as much attention as so-and-so, and I always made excuses about how maybe my writing was too weird and I was too much and maybe I just wasn’t good enough and I hated myself and wanted to delete everything I ever wrote, but also I’m awesome and receive a lot of attention and get a lot of good feedback but maybe that means I’m just a narcissist! I acted like an asshole online and justified it by saying it wasn’t really me, that I could be someone totally different on tumblr than the person I was in “real life,” but in hindsight, now when I think back on my early 20s, I cannot separate what I was doing in “real life” from what I was doing in the spn fandom. I shared so much of myself with the spn fandom without even recognizing that that’s what I was doing.

And I made mistakes, god I made mistakes, and I tried to be so careful about everything I said but I was also presenting a certain version of myself to the spn fandom so that people would like me (for instance: running a destiel blog and trying my best to hide the fact that I also ship wincest) and still I got in trouble constantly, and I grew bitter and mean because you can only receive the “when are you posting the next chapter?” comment so many times before you want to bang your head into a wall. I became defensive and unkind, afraid to check my inbox because it was a nightmare, and yet unable to turn off anon because, like I said, I desperately needed that feedback, I needed people to tell me that they felt what I felt, that they understood what I was writing and why I was writing it.

I expected Supernatural to give me everything I needed. I fantasized about Dean Winchester being canonically bisexual because I thought it would confirm something in me, that it would somehow make my life a little bit easier. I didn’t want to watch other shows that could maybe help me, I wanted Supernatural to do things for me that it had never promised and would never deliver, and it’s because I was defined by it for so many years. Now that I’m back on tumblr, I’ve been going back through some of my old posts on deancasheadcanons and it’s like reading a stranger’s words. Even so, I find myself telling people “I was deancasheadcanons” instead of “I ran a sideblog called deancasheadcanons” because it really was such a huge part of my identity. What’s wild is that every time I’ve tried to explain it to someone in real life, they just look at me like I’m not making any sense.

It was easy to stop watching Supernatural. I didn’t have cable, and I had been driving to my dad and stepmom’s house each week and watching it on their tv after they had gone to bed. I was in a new relationship with a woman I nearly married, I was back in school for a new career, I was working full time and absolutely did not have time to continue writing fanfic as prolifically as I had done for so many years. I finally reached a breaking point in 2017 and haven’t watched any new episodes since then (I don’t remember the last episode I saw). But now, as I rewatch some old episodes, it is easy to feel the way I felt the first time I watched the show. It’s easy to see why this campy little heartfelt show was a lifeline during my formative adult years.

So it turns out I have never reckoned with any of this, have never written it down, hence the 2k jumble of words you see here. And it’s like, I know that a lot of this may seem silly, trivial, especially for a show that in itself is not very serious, but as it comes to an end I have to reflect on it as a person who put so much of my heart, my creativity, my pain and my floundering identity into it. I am somewhat embarrassed and wish I could respond to this ask with a joke instead, but we’re in a pandemic and I live alone and have had way too much time to think and reflect and become a lot more self-aware, and part of that reflection has definitely been about my time in the spn fandom. I remember thinking the show was never going to end, yet here we are at the end and I felt compelled to type all this out with a desire to, I don’t know, get some closure? Convince myself that I was a whole person, that I wasn’t just a faceless URL posting destiel fics into the void, that my real life was not at all disparate from the time I spent online? In any case, I’ll always think fondly of the time I devoted to Supernatural, and I’ll take the good and the bad and everything in between. Thanks for the nice ask, anon, apparently I needed to get some things off my chest.

#madd replies #long post #spn for ts #this is 2k words i am sorry lmao #wouldn't it be cool if i had any semblance of chill

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caffiine · 4 years

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A BRIEF PAUSE

From my regularly scheduled content. I’ve got some shit to say, y’all (forewarning for spicy language and spoilers)

I thought about making this post on my fandom subblog but this show and this relationship have been TOO important to me for the past 8 years to not give it its proper place in my life. strap in bc im not sure how long this mf is about to be.

When i started this DUMB show at age 19 tortured soul “empath” dark academia me thought sam winchester was going to be my favourite character. and don’t @ me, i love sam now in his own right (and we deserve some SAILEEN PEOPLE). but after literally less than 5 episodes i KNEW dean’s character and his arc were going to be amazing and beautiful and he immediately became my favourite brother. The nuances of his character i.e. his shell vs his true self were so evident to me even in the first couple seasons. in my humble opinion, he had the most growth of the two brothers.

They all deserve to be happy, but for whatever FUCKING reason dean has the HARDEST TIME OF ANYONE being happy in this show. I know it’s his character. I know it was written that way. But FFS. I kept wondering when they were going to wrap up his emotional arc and stop torturing the poor dude.

then in season 4 they introduced castiel and 1) I thought the new concept of angels as assholes was super cool and 2) I hardcore SIMPED over misha collins (still do). I watched benignly as cas and dean began to form this relationship that seemed pretty special. I started watching the show when it was in its eighth season and I binged the shit out of it for two weeks until I was caught up. By the time I was caught up I was CERTAIN there were some feelings between them and I LOVED it. I am bisexual and I was ECSTATIC for a potential queer relationship between two masculine-portrayed dudes. I went on tumblr to express my newfound theory, only to find out that this was a real THING. “Destiel” was already an idea that had absolutely and intensely BLOSSOMED in the fandom for several seasons already. So many others saw what I saw and saw the potential of emotionally tortured/constipated “daddy’s blunt instrument” dean and the unfeeling daddy’s boy cas “crack in his chassis” Winchester being allowed to be happy together. I felt validated and hopeful. For a while.

Then it was season after season of hopefulness for them to be finally happy with each other while still fighting the ills of their world with sam and the other new members of their family that were added along the way, only to constantly have that hope seemingly teased away at the end every single time. By season 11 and the introduction of amara (not bashing, eventually loved her character and her development too) I gave up. I lost hope. I stopped watching the show. I didn’t want to keep watching my two favourite characters continuously abused by the story they were thrown into.

I know not everyone likes destiel, not everyone thought it was real. That’s chill, idc. Stories are so often meant to be (and sometimes inadvertently) left up to interpretation by the person experiencing and consuming them. It’s what’s so amazing about books and shows and movies that are able to make us feel so intensely about them and their characters. And I felt SO strongly about dean and cas. It was honestly really upsetting to me, the way the show was going with their relationship.

A while later season 13 had been going on and I started seeing some things pop up on my dash. Hopeful things. I did a bit of research and accidentally saw THE SCENE from season 12 and I couldn’t help myself. I restarted it. I watched the whole thing from the beginning again AND introduced it to my boyfriend I think partially as a way to ensure I wasn’t imagining shit (it took him awhile and a lot of me internally screaming during many scenes but by season 9 he was like “uh are they in gay love”). Fast forward to me finally catching up as season 14 was starting. I was still hopeful, somehow. And it happened AGAIN. Season 14 and the beginnings of 15 made me so sad. I HATED what they did with their relationship. I HATED the way it ended. I HATED the way dean treated cas and everyone around him. It felt like the show was taking his whole character arc back to day 1. I didn’t understand. I kept watching for a couple episodes after the big argument and cas left but the luster was gone and eventually I just stopped.

I love this show. It has meant so much to me as a story. So many of the characters are/were very dear to me. I know it’s a running joke with this show about character deaths and homophobia but the strength of the bond I felt was between cas and dean gave me a lot of hope. But it wasn’t enough. I felt betrayed one too many times. And for those of you who kept watching, for whatever reason, I don’t hold it against you. It’s still a beautiful and interesting story without cas and dean’s relationship. But I just personally couldn’t do it anymore.

I hadn’t planned on watching the rest of season 15 when it came back after pandemic hiatus, at least not for awhile. So imagine my FUCKING surprise when I was doom scrolling through twitter during election week on Thursday and I see supernatural trending right along with election shit.

What.

I couldn’t stop myself, I looked and literally SCREAMED and made my boyfriend spill his wine all over our couch. I didn’t know exactly what happened as I hadn’t seen the episode but APPARENTLY all my emotions and feelings had been at least partially vindicated. So I BOUGHT season 15 so I could finish watching where I had left off. I watched 8 episodes in less than 24hrs (don’t judge me there’s a quarantine) and I LIKED them. And it might’ve been bc I knew what was about to happen in 15 x18 but I really felt like the show was getting STRONGER as it neared its finish.

I was so excited for 15x19. I read so many posts from fellow fans, destiel and antis alike. There really weren’t a lot of bad emotions running around. Everyone seemed hopeful and excited like me.

I probably don’t need to go over 15x19 emotions but im going to anyway. I was disappointed. I was confused. I was angry. we are in season 15. The last season ever for this show that has had a HUGE following of fans who have loved it, sometimes unconditionally, sometimes even though it wasn’t the best (and sometimes less than good). A season and show that had just announced YES. CAS LOVES DEAN. ITS REAL. And I shouldn’t have to go over the nuances of why we would expect more after this, with two episodes to go before the show is done forever.

But I will bc im mad af.

Like I said in the beginning. Dean’s character arc has been incredible. His emotional growth – as subtle as it might’ve seemed – has been amazing. And dean has always been an emotional, loving person. he just felt like he wasn’t because the world made him feel that way. And that’s sad, y’all. Dean deserves to realize he DESERVES happiness. And in 15x18, we were finally heading basically directly there. With destiel, yes, but even if you’re anti, what cas said to dean about who he is and why he loves him obviously struck a fucking chord with dean. It obviously changed the way he viewed himself (RE: “that’s not who I am, that’s not who we are”).

But for WHATEVER reason that’s ALL we got in 15x19. One fucking SENTENCE about dean realizing maybe he’s not just built to kill people. And then jack leaves without a single mention of Eileen or cas or Charlie or literally anyone they ever cared about and dean rode off into the sunset alone with his brother while we watched a fucking FIVE MINUTE MONTAGE that made me want to hurl my own body into the sun they were driving toward. And cas is STILL DEAD.

BUT THERE’S STILL ONE EPISODE LEFT AND FUCK ME IF I HAVENT BEEN PAINTING ON MY CLOWN MAKEUP ALL WEEK. SO WHAT DO I WANT????

ONE: DEAN DESERVES HAPPINESS. REAL HAPPINESS. What the FUCK supernatural??? Wasn’t this the whole point of his arc??? And don’t get me wrong I REALLY want that happiness to come from Cas and a real spoken relationship of some sort between them bc it also ties in with my second point but tbh just PLEASE let dean be happy. Dean is a loving person and does everything for love as we JUST FOUND OUT. Dean would NOT be happy with everyone he’s ever loved gone for the rest of his life. I just don’t believe that’s fucking true. h elp him pls.

TWO: CAS DESERVES HAPPINESS. I know we got this whole speech about “happiness isn’t in the having it’s simply in being” but like. Really. Castiel was supposed to be a throwaway character no one was supposed to care about. But we all cared SO MUCH that he lasted 11 SEASONS longer than intended and became a main character and an integral part of the story. Cas has arguably sacrificed more than anyone on this show. His last act was to sacrifice his life to save the man he loved. He knew where he was going. He knew he was finally going to be able to tell dean he loved him and then immediately be taken by the empty where we know now thanks to season 15 that everyone in there just gets to dream forever about their regrets and sadness. HOW IS THAT FAIR. HOW IS THAT A GOOD ENDING FOR CAS. HOW DO YOU EXPECT ANYONE – CHARACTERS AND FANS ALIKE –TO BE HAPPY ABOUT THAT. Its messed up, supernatural. Y’all KNOW it is and I hope to HIGH HEAVENS this is going to be corrected in 15x20.

THREE: give sam Eileen back.

Well that’s all I’ve got in me, folks. I’m absolutely and intensely dreading Thursday. Im scared and nervous and obviously still angry that this is absolutely going to be the opposite of what they promised – another “game of thrones” ending. Some of y’all are giving me hope with your posts about maybe they’re trying to keep the ending a surprise and maybe cas is coming back and how can they not and why else would they have done the second to last episode like that and I hope yall are right.

Either way, im glad I am not alone with my feelings. Thanks yall for the experience of this fandom and show. Let’s stick together on Thursday, no matter our differences.

PS stop calling jensen ackles a homophobe or ill hex you.

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #oh and #saileen #just to make sure theyre not forgotten #dean winchester #castiel #Misha Collins #jensen ackles #15x18 #15x20 #15x19 #i fucking guess #dean x castiel #casdean #castiel x dean #supernatural season 15

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writersofdestiel · 4 years

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Writers of Destiel The Day They First Met Prompt Week

just a little bit of your heart by @kitmistry, prompt: monster monday

No archive warnings, canon-compliant, confessions, first kiss, misunderstandings, fluff and humor, Dean is an idiot, bisexual disaster Dean Winchester

“So, how was it?” Dean asks, voice cracking with forced cheerfulness. “I, I’m planning on confessing my feelings to someone important and I wanted to rehearse, so I figured you’d be the best option. What with Sam being my brother and, and, Jack would just be weird, so...yeah.” Castiel’s face remains blank. “I think you were a bit brusque,” he says, slowly, at last. Like maybe Dean’s not making sense. “Maybe try loosening up a little? Um, explaining your feelings more clearly, perhaps.” Or, three times Dean tried to confess and one time he did. (Rated G, 1.4k)

Pinned To The Wall by @peanutbutterjelly-pie, prompt: monster monday

canon compliant, friends to lovers, vampires, dean being a disaster bi

Dean finds himself in a very awkward position involving a hard brick wall, a murderous vampire and a pissed off angel. (Rated T, 2.2k)

have and hold by @kitmistry, prompt: au tuesday

No archive warnings, pirate AU, historical AU, pirate captain Dean Winchester, Selkie Castiel, fluff, minor Jo Harvelle/Sam Winchester

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, affection softening his voice, blue eyes making Dean’s legs go weak. It’s been five years, and he’s still just as hopelessly lost as when he blinked his eyes open, wet and exhausted and alive only by some miracle, to find Cas bent over him. It turned out it wasn’t a miracle that saved him that day. (Rated G, 1.4k)

don't let me go by @kitmistry, prompt: weeping wednesday

No archive warnings, post-canon, nightmares, light angst, hurt/comfort, sharing a bed, first kiss, Cas returns from the Empty

“Was it a nightmare?” Dean rakes a hand through Castiel’s hair, the touch grounding him more than the sight of this familiar place. He turns towards it, chasing the comfort Dean gives so easily, and nods once. “The same again?” “As always.” (Rated T, 1.1k)

Frenzy by @peanutbutterjelly-pie, prompt: weeping wednesday

Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Caregiver Dean, Fluff, Writer Castiel

After Sam gets involved in a car accident Dean finds himself in an utter frenzy. Thankfully Cas shows up just at the right time. (Rated G, 1.8k)

for good by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: weeping wednesday

Major Character Death, Angst, Canon Universe

Cas made a deal with the Empty, and he never said a word. (Rated T, 0.8k)

irresistible by @kitmistry, prompt: thirsty thursday

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Strangers to Lovers, Porn With Plot, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Celebrity Castiel, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Dean Winchester, Anal Sex

"Well, hello there, Mr. Dark-and-Handsome. Dean can spy what is surely a demi-god, talking with a few ladies across the room. The ladies all coo, and blush, and cling to him with adoration written into every curve of their shapely bodies. The demi-god, though, is cool and aloof. He smiles politely at them, but doesn’t single any of them out. Doesn’t even really look like he’s paying that much attention to them, actually. His strikingly blue eyes scan the room every now and then, without focusing on any person or art piece in particular. The demi-god turns his face so he’s looking somewhere to Dean’s left, and holy. fucking. shit. That’s Castiel Novak! The movie star!" (Rated E, 1.5k)

Seduction Technique by @peanutbutterjelly-pie, prompt: thirsty thursday

Explicit Sexual Content, Bottom Castiel, Top Dean, PWP, Cocky Dean, Bickering like an Old Married Couple, Established Relationship, Bad Poetry

Dean's seduction methods are awful. But somehow still effective with a certain blue-eyed angel. (Rated E, 3.3k)

Ears to See; Eyes to Hear by DisenchantedHalo, prompt: thirsty thursday

Explicit Sexual Content, Porn with Plot, blow jobs, hand jobs, poet Cas, painter Dean, AU - Historical

Poet Castiel Milton admires Dean Winchester's art. When he walks by the artist's open door one evening he is struck by how the artist's good looks outshine his art. However, Dean has an inherent dislike of poets, especially those Romantic types. He doesn't work with male models either. Thinking it will get rid of Castiel, Dean tells him to get his patron (Countess Bradbury) to commission the sitting. Dean is convinced that his patron will turn Castiel down. What happens when two weeks later Castiel turns up with a commission from the countess and an instruction for Dean to listen to Castiel's poetry first? Come on, it's a smut fit. We all know what happens next, right? (Rated E, 3.9k)

love you like you're leaving by @kitmistry, prompt: friday firsts

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Mafia AU, Mafia Boss Castiel, Soulmate AU, enemies to lovers, meet cute, canon typical violence, minor character death

While all the other kids in his school look at the counter on the inside of their wrists, daydreaming about the day the number of steps will reach zero and they’ll finally get to meet their soulmate, Castiel does the exact opposite. He spends as much time as he can not looking at it. (Rated M, 1.8k)

Guardian Angel by @peanutbutterjelly-pie, prompt: friday firsts

Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Meetings, 3x16 divergent

It'll only be minutes until Dean's time on earth's gonna run out. Until the hellhound will walk around the corner and drag him with it into the pit of pain and despair. Until the demons and monsters will claim his soul. But just as he is about to face his end all of a sudden something unexpected happens and Dean starts to wonder if he's seriously worth to be saved after all. (Rated T, 1.6k)

An Introduction Would Have Been…Nice by DisenchantedHalo, prompt: friday firsts

Alternate Universe; Office; Military Sci-Fi; Military Pilot Castiel; Mentions of being at War; Oblivious Dean; Confused Dean; Swearing; Hopeful Ending

Dean Winchester's day is ruined when he gets a new boss in his role as an administrator in the Fleet Support Department. Some asshole ruins it further when they make him spill coffee over his shirt. Imagine how his heart sinks when he finds out that the boss and the asshole are one and the same — Lieutenant Commander Castiel Novak. Does Dean's day get any better when the two finally meet formally? (Rated T, 5.2k)

#writersofdestiel #destielfanfic #fic collection #event: prompt week

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years

Text

Not Here for Me

If he had the choice, Dean never would have stepped foot inside this place. But Sam was curious - and curious is a hell of a lot better than the depression that clung to him day after day since Jess left him. So Dean swallows his pride, joins Sam as his babysitter. So he won't get find himself in any trouble. Trouble, however, is more likely to find Dean. In the bowels of his personal hell, can Dean resist temptations that have plagued him his entire life? Or will someone descend and lend a hand, showing Dean that the darkness he imagined only lived inside his own mind. And all that he feared was not as he seemed if he let himself step out of the shadows of his past.

(Dean/Cas, Human AU, 2000s-set, 8,113 words, tw: Dean’s childhood & upbringing by one John Winchester)

ao3

His ears hurt. Dean stares at a small puddle of maybe-water-maybe-vodka that collected on the bar top, focusing on it instead of the pounding bass drum and blender whirring that’s somehow considered music. At least that’s what Sam told him seconds after entering, meeting Dean’s disgruntlement with patented exasperation. Floppy bangs pushed back for its full effect. “You’re such an old man,” he said, “Can you pretend you’re happy being here?”

“That depends,” he fired back, brow raised. Pulled taut like a bowstring, retort knocked and waiting. He lets it fly, “How quick do you think I can get drunk?”

The answer – very quickly. Dean balked when Sam ordered them these bubbling potions the color of lava lamps mixed with Barbie vomit. Served in dainty glasses Dean could easily break if he applied even a fraction of pressure between his thumb and forefinger. Rim lined with salt and a wedge of lime. Sam suggested they cheers. He chugged his before Sam raised the glass. He flagged the bartender, ignoring Sam’s glare. “What the hell did I drink?” he asked.

The bartender pursed his lips, eyes dragging over Dean’s frame as if he were stripping him bare in the room; peeling away the layers of his jacket and plaid button-down and faded band tee like they were tissue, freckled-and-pale skin freed for the bartender’s enjoyment. He sowed seeds of unwanted fantasies. Dean cleared his throat, repeating the question, digging out those dropped seedlings before the bartender’s imagined wanderings might flower.

If Dean wanted to encourage attention, he’d have dressed like him. Mesh shirt with uneven holes, some stretched wider than most. Its woven fabric failed at hiding the sweat that dampened his obviously spray-tanned skin, strips of orange paint peeling like a rind. The bartender wiped his brow, a streak of bright white skin revealed. “A strawberry margarita.”

“Of course,” Dean nodded at the selection behind him, “got anything that doesn’t taste too… sugary?” A frown dragged every wrinkle and crease forward on the bartender’s face. He clarified, “A beer. What beer do you have?”

They didn’t have any. Dean asked for a vodka neat, Sam criticizing his choice as the bartender retreated. “You’re so boring.” That was three vodka neats ago.

Sam left his station beside Dean soon after his first drink, swept away in the tide of bodies pulsing in the center of the club. Each individual moving to a different beat. Their dancing unsyncopated and wild. Yet, despite how hopeless it looked, bodies acting independently from one another, the writhing mass shared one mind. Although, even assimilated by the crowd, Dean can keep track of his little brother. Head poking free of the mass like some odd periscope. Scanning every few seconds until their gazes met and then submerging once more.

Dean isn’t searching for him now. He studies his small puddle of definitely-vodka. He swiped his finger through it earlier and sucked it dry; cheeks hollow, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. Dean heard someone’s glass shatter over the wretched din of noise, timed perfectly with his finger popping out of his mouth like a burst bubble. The sharp smell of alcohol fries his nose hairs. It dulls the throbbing ache caused by his surroundings, Dean’s frayed nerves sparking underneath, jumping like live wires since Sam detailed their plans for this evening.

“You wanna go to a gay bar?”

Sam rolled his eyes with so much force they rattled inside his skull like a novelty magic eight-ball, his hazel gaze landing on him, answer written neatly, ‘It is decidedly so’. Dean shook it again, scoffing. The answer changed. Not in Dean’s favor. ‘Yes – definitely’.

“Why?” Dean leaned across their small table, “Are you…?” He asks with a wry twist of his lips and a limp wrist.

“I don’t know,” Sam told him.

“You don’t know? Isn’t that a requirement for a – a gay bar?”

“Not necessarily,” he explained, sitting across from Dean finally. Sam’s windbreaker swooshed with every dramatic sweep of his arm. “I mean… sure, most of the people there are gay. But it’s not like they make you flash some official gay card at the door…” Expression pinched, he powered head, avoiding the conversational detour and sticking to the main highway of his argument. “Besides, there’s more than just gay.”

Dean nodded, “Like what?”

“Bisexual, Pansexual… Asexual, Demisexual –“

“I think I might be that,” Dean laughed, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “It means you’re attracted to Demi Moore, right? Because if Kutcher weren’t in the picture, I’d definitely be all up in her business!”

“Don’t be an ass, Dean,” Sam said, “Demisexuality is a real thing, okay? It’s only being attracted to people who you have a deep, intimate bond with.”

“Oh, is that so?” He stretched his legs out from beneath the table, knocking into Sam’s. “That what you’re learning in college? I thought you wanted to be a lawyer. Or were you a bit presumptuous when you made that e-mail, lawboy?”

“I still do,” Sam muttered, cheeks tinted a dark shade. “I… it was one of these classes I have to take, for my degree. Made me think about things I never knew about and – and stuff I said that, looking back, was… kind of offensive. That we joked about, what dad would say, sometimes…” Dean tuned Sam out partly, a refreshing static separating him from Sam’s words. Standard whenever Sam mentioned their dad, or if he saw something that reminded him of dad, or if dad cared enough to leave a voicemail for Sam on their shared answering machine. The little antenna on his brain’s radio drooped slightly, making Dean fiddle for the signal. He managed to catch the remainder of Sam’s monologue, barely. “…it’s a whole new world!”

“No, it isn’t,” Dean sighed, tiredly scrubbing his chin. “Sam, you’ve only ever liked girls.”

“To my knowledge!” Sam insisted, “I might’ve liked a boy, possibly. Maybe. I mean… do you remember Trevor?”

“Trevor?”

“Y’know, Trevor,” he fumbled through his memories, silence painstakingly ticking past. The clicking of their kitchen clock suddenly, obnoxiously loud. “That kid from that town we stayed at for about two months my sophomore year of high school, up in Montana.”

Dean remembered that town. GED burning a hole in his pocket, he bummed through town hunting for a job since dad hightailed it for a phantom thread of a lead on their mother’s murderer. Not many folks were hiring, but a stern man in a rough-hewn Stetson and bushy mustache needed an extra ranch hand. Introduced Dean to his son, Dean’s new co-worker. Steve was a nice boy, older than him by a few years, with a warm temperament, skin tanned like leather from a life of fieldwork, and legs bent further than Dean’s by riding horses since birth.

One day while tending the horses, Steve noticed how Dean’s focus drifted every few seconds, drawn to the saddles. “We can go for a ride,” he mentioned, “one night, around the property.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to get on a horse, let alone ride it.”

Steve chuckled, shoulders barely shaking from the act. His honeyed eyes were earnest and gooey in the filtered sunlight, distracting Dean more than saddles ever did. “I can show you,” he said, “it ain’t too hard.” He proved that by using their lunch break to teach Dean how to mount a horse. He demonstrated it, legs wrapping around its thick flanks, showboating and urging the steed forward by tapping his heels while Dean laughed, head dizzy from spinning, following Steve and the horse, as well as other things. “Think you can try it?” Dean didn’t. He shook his head, lip trapped between his teeth. Speaking felt blasphemous in that moment. “What if I helped?” Steve offered a hand, easily hefting Dean up atop the horse. They shared the saddle, Dean bracketed by Steve’s sturdy arms and supported by his firm chest. Dean felt every tug of the reigns as Steve guided the horse around the stable, and every whispered breath along his neck. Steve dismounted first, holding Dean’s hips and helping him down later. “Now imagine how nice that’d be, out on the plains, with nothing but the moon watching us?” He painted a pretty picture, even if Dean’s copied brushstrokes were shaky and inelegant. They made plans the following Friday.

John returned Tuesday, and they left Wednesday. He’d never been near a horse since.

But they weren’t talking about Steve. Why did he think of Steve? “Trevor?” Dean repeated, still unsure what Sam’s flailing meant.

“My lab partner,” he said, “We bonded over our mutual appreciation of Vince Vincente and the Goonies… there were some days he’d give me the extra sandwich his mom packed, for some reason?”

“You mean to tell me you had a crush on this Trevor kid?”

“I might have!” Sam rose, shouting, “He was… he treated me well, and I liked hanging around him.”

“He was your friend, Sam. Friend,” Dean sunk deeper into his seat, kicking Sam’s abandoned chair. “You have had friends in your life, right? I know I joke about you being a loser, but I never really meant it…”

“Of course I had friends,” he scowled, “I have friends.”

“And you’ve had girlfriends,” Dean reminded him, “Hell, you and Jess only broke up about a month ago! Did Trevor give you feelings like Jess did?”

Sam visibly faltered, stooping slightly. Footing lost as the ground trembled beneath his feet. “Well… no, I mean – not, not that I can recall…” Spluttering, his hands balled tighter into fists. “But maybe it’s different, feelings for a boy and – and feelings for a girl.”

“Sam, feelings are feelings regardless of who’s on the other end of ‘em. You just… you just know –“

Like he regressed two decades, Sam stomped his foot in a very childish way. Whining, “God, Dean, can’t you be a little supportive!” Immediately his face stretched in regret, rubber band snapping as he leaped forward in years to his appropriate age. It didn’t matter; the barb struck exactly where it intended, puncturing soft underbelly, unguarded by Dean’s calloused defenses.

Dean stiffened; gaze drawn to a whorl in the table’s finish. His thumb pressed hard at its center. He snorted, but it sounded more like an engine backfiring. “Supportive huh?” he asked, smile wide and wry, “You want me to be more supportive?” Thousands of examples flickered like a clip reel in his mind. Small things. Dean skipping breakfast so Sam can eat the last of their cereal. Wearing the same clothes, weeks on end, because Sam needed a new wardrobe, reedy body bigger than what they had. Risking arrest with every five-finger discount or hustled game or back alley trick; supporting the way their dad couldn’t.

Bigger things. Lying, letting Sam play over at other kids’ houses; Dean frozen, watching the door in fear their dad came home early. Hiding letters from admissions for Sam, secreted from beneath their dad’s nose. He was an ever-present figure during those last few years. A shadowy patrol that continually followed since they were old enough. Dad had more use for men then children. Dean went as far as distracting him one starless night while Sam escaped, then accepted the consequences of his actions. He joined Sam weeks later with Baby’s keys and a split lip caused by, who he described to Sam as, some jackass biker. It healed in time for an interview, for a job he still has. Six days a week spent under the hoods of cars, working long hours and earning money to support them both, like before. Giving Sam the very freedoms he’d been denied – time, luxury, and safety.

He held these words firm in his mouth, smoke bitter as it roiled. But, in his next breath, Dean released the past with a low hiss. Darkness rising, dissipating. “It’s okay,” he assured Sam, cutting off his rambling apologies. “Really.” He glanced at Sam’s outfit, fully taking in his choices. A color-blocked jacket of bright colors, reds, yellows, and oranges, that glowed over his tight, dark button-down. A hint of some printed graphic peeking behind the half-zippered flaps. Combined with a pair of Sam’s most distressed denim and flip-flops because It’s California, Dean, and you know how awful my feet sweat. As a whole Sam presented like a grade-A douchebag. Entirely unprepared for any bar, let alone a gay one. Dean’s instincts kicked into overdrive.

“Fine,” he decided, standing, too, “you want supportive? Then I’m coming with you.”

“What?” Sam trailed Dean’s wake as he left for his bedroom, cornering him while he slipped into some ratty white sneakers left by his dresser. “You’re coming?”

“Sure.”

“But… why?” Sam slammed his hand on Dean’s doorframe, blocking his exit. “You’re not gay.”

Dean frowned at him, “I thought you didn’t have to be gay to go to a gay bar?”

“Yeah, but –“ He knocked Sam’s arm loose, passing his brother on the way towards the door. Sam followed, buzzing behind like a mosquito. “You don’t seriously wanna go, do you?”

“Obviously not,” Dean said, sliding into an oversized leather jacket. Another relic of their dad’s. Dean couldn’t leave without it. He couldn’t explain why. “But since you’re insisting on doing this, I might as well make sure you don’t get taken advantage of.”

“That won’t happen.”

“You kidding? A guy like you, wobbling around like a fawn – a sort of gay Bambi… you’d get eaten alive instantly. Or drugged.” He squeezed Sam’s shoulder, the finger of his other hand pressed into his brother’s chest like it was an intercom button, pushing so forcefully Dean thought it might burst through the other side. “I don’t need the stress of finding out you died at this gay bar because some idiot overestimated the amount of roofies they’d need to take down your elephant-sized ass.”

Sam cringed at his worst-case scenario but hadn’t shrugged his hand off. Instead he returned the gesture with his own comforting touch around Dean’s wrist. “Okay,” Sam said, “you can come. Don’t embarrass me though, by being an ass.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Hey,” Sam said later, Baby idling in front of a red light. Zeppelin blaring through her speakers, making conversation difficult. Dean lowered it for his brother. “What’d you think dad’d say, if he knew where we were going?”

Dad’s opinion, of his two sons wasting their night in a gay bar, would ruffle the feathers of Sam’s newfound sensitivity. He hears their dad’s voice clearly, delivering a tirade about their terrible choices. Dean spent his time at the bar drowning that voice since arriving. He drains his fourth-or-fifth glass of its contents. It all splashes like the others, into his empty, churning stomach. Dad’s voice, the awful music, his nerves and senses slip out of mind. He sees dregs of vodka left in his glass. He uses the same finger that swiped through the tiny bar puddle and swirls it there, coating in in more vodka. Again, Dean sucks on his finger.

Someone approaches while his lips graze knuckle.

“If you get tired of that finger…” a stranger says on his right, reeking of cherry-and-liquored stink. Dean’s face scrunches at the smell. “I’ve got this big thing you can suck on…” His gaze wanders to where the stranger is.

He’s a man with severely gelled hair, plastered back. A few strands were missed in the initial sweep and clung to his forehead, shiny and wet, making it seem like oil slowly bled down. He chokes on a gold chain that resembles a collar, broad neck seizing as he breathes. Steroids, Dean wagers, given how bulging veins snake past the sleeves of his stretched-thin shirt. Which makes him doubt the man’s ‘big’ claim. He arches a stupidly perfect, sculpted brow, leaning far past the bubble of Dean’s personal space. “You’d definitely have a lot more fun than playing with your finger,” he adds, taking Dean’s silence as an apparent invitation.

He can’t remember when his finger slid free, but it did and, while spit-slick, jabs at Roidy’s brick-wall chest. “Not interested pal,” he says, “Why don’t you try a different fella?”

“What if I don’t want a different fella?”

“Then you are s’stupid as you look.” Dean waves, flagging the bartender for his next vodka. “Why don’t you take your big package crap elsewhere?”

Undeterred, Roidy leans closer. Fingertips ghosting where Dean holds his glass as the bartender refills it. He tenses, squirming, imagining the very oil that drips from the man’s head coats his fingers, too, and through his touch smears it around Dean’s wrist. “Listen, you might not know this… but I made a promise tonight. That I would fuck the hottest, sexiest piece of trade in the club tonight. And congratulations… that’s you.”

Dean squints, mockingly cooing at the other’s assessment. “I feel honored,” he says, sarcasm heavy like the hand pouring his drinks this evening. “Special, even,” Dean continues, “don’t know how anyone could turn y’away after that.”

“No one does.”

“Then I guess I’ll be the first?” Dean asks. The bartender huffs softly under breath, he and Dean reveling silently. They connect over this interloper’s antics. With a subtle shift in the bartender’s gaze, a snide flash of teeth, Dean understands. He’s not the first, only the latest. Certainly not the last.

What he wants to be, though, is left alone. That doesn’t seem likely. Not with how Roidy gloms onto Dean’s side, an arm curling around his shoulders. Not if his biting smile meant anything, tearing through Dean’s dismissals. Not as Roidy whispers, barely audible because of the music, “If you’re going for discreet, I can do that… play along, that is. It wouldn’t be worth it if it were easy…”

Dean’s mood sinks under such nauseating charms. He looks for assistance in the bartender, but he swam to safer shores at some point, serving drinks elsewhere. Unfortunate. He was starting to like him.

Roidy snuffles Dean’s neck, alarms clanging within his head. Or possibly it’s coming from the many speakers placed throughout the bar. Either way that plus everything he drank, make thinking complicated and tortuously slow, like Roidy nosing along his collarbone. His thoughts fall apart before they make it to his mouth, Dean opening and shutting and opening his mouth hoping a few words can crawl themselves into existence. He manages a few garbled syllables that are greatly ignored.

As swiftly as Roidy began his assault, he’s being tugged off him. Dean gasps for breath, spinning, facing the dancefloor now. Glaring at Roidy who glares elsewhere, at the owner of the hand that cleaved this growth from Dean’s side.

It’s beautiful, for a hand. Tan, palm curled around Dean’s shoulder protectively. No cuts or scabs across the knuckles, nor any scars. If he were to touch it, he imagines the skin there is soft and smooth. Dean’s gaze travels, curious who might own such a gentle hand.

Chasing the sinewy lines of his savior’s arms to broad shoulders, Dean feels his chest tighten in a desperate need for fresh air. However, it’s not terrifying like before with Roidy. This is unique and comforting. He inhales, then exhales. He has no trouble breathing. He still feels that tightness. Crushing once he finds his savior’s face.

Marble. Statues are carved from stone – marble, specifically – he remembers from an old teacher’s droned lecture that returned with vengeance. Spoken during a field trip to some museum where Dean barely stayed awake as they flew room to room, always seconds from collapsing, waking momentarily for the next exhibit. Except when they entered a room of statues, and Dean managed fifteen minutes of attentiveness. Aided by chiseled features of a statue hidden between two columns near the farthest corner of the room. A man, naked, endowed, frozen in repose and staring into the distance. It might have been at a bathroom door, Dean’s memory supplied, but the statue saw beyond such borders. Dean wished he knew what existed where only statues can see. All he understood was the expression. Marble evoked steel. The statue displayed determination, tempered and ready for whatever barrels forward, with a hint of sorrow he must greet what is to come. The same expression shone on his savior’s face triggering his sudden recollection. Only his was brighter because of those eyes. An incomparable blue.

On first glance, Dean wonders if that statue perhaps came alive. Journeyed from wherever it stood, in that town whose name he can’t summon up, to save him. Except that’s impossible. That statue is most likely there, forever guarding the bathroom. Blue Eyes is a man with his own history, parallel to Dean’s until he jumped in playing hero. But why?

He can’t think of a reasonable explanation, because Blue Eyes finally speaks. “Hey babe,” he growls, Dean jolting from the pitch, like he stepped, shoeless, on glass shards littering the floor. An abundance of them must slip loose from Blue Eyes’ mouth whenever it opens after they shredded his vocal cords. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was crazy.”

What?

“What?”

“Didn’t you get my text?” he asks Dean. Then, subtly checking on Roidy who watches, fuming from the sidelines, he makes an odd clicking sound. “Or were your hands full, and you couldn’t check?”

“His hands were full all right,” Roidy interrupts, not waiting for Dean’s response. He tries shoving Blue Eyes back, but he refuses to budge. His strength real and not decorative like Roidy’s. He falters slightly; adjusts course and snags a fistful of Blue Eyes’ white button-down in case Blue Eyes wastes energy trying what Roidy did. “Why don’t you leave and let your babe hang with someone who’s there when he needs him?”

Blue Eyes squints, lips slowly stretching, like a match dragged across a striker, until the flame of a smirk dances into view. “I can assure you, that’s exactly who I am. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He does. He should. Blue Eyes listens for Dean’s answer, chin dipped patiently. Roidy’s is, as well. Both wait on him, Dean the difference between favor and disgrace. It’s a non-decision. He eases into his savior’s warmth, improvising by slipping his thumb through a belt loop on the other side. “Exactly,” Dean says, “you’re all I need, sweetie.”

Dean knows there’s no reason to turn from Blue Eyes. Temptation wins, and he chances a peek at the loser. Roidy fumes, his sneer somehow making him appear uglier. He wipes at his brow, disrupting those few, sticky strands, and reveals covered pockmarks. They appear horn-like, in the bar’s dim lighting. That cherry-and-liquor scent sours, suddenly pungent like rotten eggs. “Whatever,” he mutters, letting Blue Eyes go, “your boyfriend’s a fucking tease.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Dean drawls, laughing, squeezing Blue Eyes tighter. Encouraged by his presence. “At least you’ll know it’s consen-u-tal!”

Roidy departs dreadfully, saluting them with his middle finger. Dean responds with a raised glass that quickly empties itself down his throat. Slumping onto the bar, releasing Blue Eyes, Dean motions for the bartender’s return. “Hey,” he slurs, “another vodk-eh and, uh…” He scowls, studying the rack, an array of alcohol lined up. “Shit, man,” he asks his savior, “what’s your poison?”

“Tequila,” Blue Eyes tells the bartender, frowning at Dean, “You sure you’re good for this?”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

“That you look like you’ve had enough.” Blue Eyes accepts the glass of tequila, tapping its rim against his chin, lime wedge hitting the corner of his quirked lips. “How many of those vodkas have you had?”

“’Bout this many,” he answers, hand open. Dean hums, considering the number. “Maybe one or two more. Or less? I must’ve lost count…” He shrugs, sipping at his latest drink. “S’okay, though, I once drank this meathead trucker under the table. A whole bottle of ol’ Jack at this… roadhouse off a highway somewhere east a’here.” Vodka sloshes with each gesture while he retells the story. “So I’ve got tolernance.”

“Clearly.” Blue Eyes chuckles, and Dean – not sure for what reason – joins him. He can’t hear much of it, but the bits of his laughter that break over the bar’s chaotic din make Dean giddy. “Thank you,” he nods at his tequila, “for the drink.”

“Hey, I’m the one thankin’ here buddy,” Dean says, “I don’t know what I’d’ve done if you hadn’t stepp-epped in when you did. Probably somethin’ punchy.”

“He would have deserved it,” he finally tips his glass back. Dean’s Adam’s apple bobs in rhythm with Blue Eyes’, even if his drink rests miles away on the bar top. “Hey,” Blue Eyes continues, smiling, fiddling with the lime wedge, “what’s your name?”

“Why you wanna know?”

“Well, usually I know the names of the men who buy me drinks. Especially those who buy them for me after I’ve scared off pervy creeps.”

“You make a habit of this, then?”

“No,” Blue Eyes says, “you’re the first.”

Unlike with Roidy, Dean believes him. “Dean.”

“Castiel,” he reveals, simultaneously sticking the lime in his mouth. Teeth locked around it, he drains the wedge of its juice. Dean blushes, and the rush of blood to his head brings dizziness. Resting one hand on the bar doesn’t help. Neither does two. Castiel finishes his drink, placing the glass and shriveled lime near Dean’s hands, and yet his sudden lightheadedness persists.

Castiel must notice this queasiness, because he grazes Dean’s elbow. Uses words Dean cannot presently grasp. A wave of concern sweeps across Castiel’s features, transforming them. Drawing Dean closer, lost in his orbit.

A diversion is necessary. “So, Cas,” he starts, their faces inches from each other. To talk easier. “You gay?”

“Uh…” Belatedly, Dean realizes his stupidity. His jaw drops, as if he can vacuum the question back. Pretend he never said it. Castiel, looking saintly under the bar’s neon glow, recovers faster. Replies before Dean might withdraw. “Yeah, yes I’m… I’m gay. Be pretty weird if I wasn’t.”

“I must be pretty weird, huh,” Dean thinks aloud. He smacks his lips. They taste oddly like a morning where, after playing some hilarious prank on Sam, he came to with old socks stuffed into his duct taped mouth.

Castiel skews his head to the side. “Why are you weird?”

“Because…” It’s a bad idea. He recognizes how bad an idea this is. However, recognition and action are completely separate. And while he succeeds in the former, he fails spectacularly with the latter. “I’m not gay.” Then, slurring, he whisper-shouts, “I’m straaaaight.”

“Really…” Castiel skims through tens of emotions Dean cannot discern with his vodka-addled brain. He settles on detachment, the tightness within his chest loosening as Cas inches backwards. Dean, instinctively, floats closer. That strain returns tenfold, like a python coiled itself around Dean. Squeezes him until Castiel bumps into a patron, bringing their chests flush together. Dean likes it even if he cannot breathe. Castiel smiles, but it’s noticeably different than those previously gifted. “If you’re straight, why are you at a gay bar?”

“You don’t have to be gay to be in a gay bar,” Dean supplies.

“It’d be a real plus though.” He barely caught Castiel’s mumbling. He can’t question what was meant, because Castiel clears his throat and repeats his question. “Why did you choose a gay bar for the evening?”

Dean glances at the dance floor. Sam hadn’t left, enmeshed between writhing bodies. “I’m not here for me. My brother – he thinks he’s gay… or somethin’ like it,” he tells Castiel, snorting when someone other than Sam rakes a paw through his hair. Awkwardness flashes like lightning, disappearing behind forced puppy-dog features and Sam’s too-wide grin. “He’s here expermimenting while I’m the… uh – the moral support.”

Castiel’s face publicizes his thoughts. The lines of his face twitch in simple patterns that are already familiar to Dean. And the pools of his eyes reflect the subdued variety of his feelings, providing needed transparency. With this change of his features, Dean guesses Castiel’s tensed mouthline and wishbone-bent eyebrows meant awe and respect. “That’s… very nice of you.”

“Least I can do,” Dean shrugs, tasting sock once more, “it’s not like I’ll need’ta do more. Kid’s straight as a… straight thing.”

Those pearled emotions seal themselves tightly in a clamshell, Castiel sending them back into murky depths. “How would you know?”

“Because I’ve known the kid all m’life, Cas. He’s a shit liar… at least to me he is.” Dean settles against the bar, past resurfacing. A clear memory from their younger years. Sam never finishing his dinners, but somehow dropping a clean plate into the trashcan every time. Followed by a question, like clockwork, about taking a walk. “Around the motel,” he said, “nothing further.” His father’s rules. Never plainly set, but strictly enforced. Dean learned of them the hard way. Sam agreed, not even fighting like he usually did. Maybe that’s why, one night, he left their motel a beat after Sam. Dean kept close tabs on his brother. Not stopping him as he disobeyed orders and crossed the street, nor when a crowd of adults poured out of some ritzy venue, stares scathing as he passed. He maintained distance, only toeing nearer as Sam slowed for a better view of the alleyway he paused at, of a three-legged dog hobbling out of a cardboard box, tongue lolling, tail wagging. Sam greeted him in similar fashion, kneeling at the edge where light and shadows gathered. He pet and pet and pet this stray, stopping only to reveal the portion of dinner he hadn’t eaten wrapped in several paper towels. Dean scurried off in the direction of the motel, asking Sam how his walk was once he returned. He relates all this to Castiel. “Sam loved dogs. Always wanted one assa pet…” If this was his chance, Dean figured he might help. Became more lenient. Gave Sam food from his plate, not that he ever noticed. Lied to John during those rare moments he was home. “Most of the things he got away with were only because I let him. I’m sure if he ever wanted a boyfriend he could’ve done it, and there I’d be covering his tracks like I did for his dog an’ his playdates an’ his girlfriends.”

“Wow, you…” Castiel trails off. Or perhaps he completed his thought, and Dean missed it because their arms are pressed together on the bar. Dean turns, watching the other’s soft contemplation instead of Sam. Castiel meets his gaze, those pearls reappearing. Shinier, too. “What happened to the dog?”

“Sam dropped off food the next two weeks, but by then our dad was dying to move on,” he explains, “I happened to overhear him bitchin’ on the phone and knew it’d be soon. So I took a personal day and brought his mutt t’the nearest shelter.” Hopefully Patchy found a good home, not that he cared.

“You’re a good brother.”

“I try my best.”

“Your best is better than a lot of people’s…” Castiel knocks his shoulder into Dean’s, Dean chasing after it. “My brothers’ idea of kindness is the occasional birthday e-mail, when the mood strikes them that is.”

“That sucks.” There’s more he wants to say, except Dean cannot make his mouth open again. When he finally unsticks his lips, he forgot all those words that seemed important moments ago. Replaced by off-tempo notes and cyclical phrases. Dean sighs, head lolling to the side while his lids slide closed over his eyes.

He exists in darkness. A warm, welcoming blackness, like being swaddled in a blanket. Hiding under it while winds howled and raged, sheets of rain slamming atop roofs and pelleting windows. Safe, protected.

That blanket is torn from him, Dean stumbling slightly. Castiel catches him and helps him stand upright, smirking. “Hey,” Dean whines, numb fingers twining loosely around Castiel’s wrist, “where you goin’?”

Castiel nods at the writhing mass, somehow larger since Dean last looked. “I feel like dancing.”

“No…” Dean tugs Castiel back towards him. He stays where he was. “Stay here,” Dean insists.

“Or…” Castiel says, prying Dean’s hand from his wrist. His needy fingers seep through the spaces between Castiel’s and he clings tight. “Or,” he repeats, breathier than before, “you can join me on the dancefloor?”

“I don’t dance, Cas…” His legs betray him, following Castiel into the fray. Vodka making his protests toothless. Vodka and Castiel.

He meant what he said, though. He does not dance. Men don’t dance. Real men. Normal men. Dad never danced, not even at his wedding. Even though mom begged, dad would tell them that he remained firm in his decision. “Never trust a man who dances,” he advised, Sam asleep feet from where they sat, beers in their hands. Dean was fourteen. “No man wants to dance. If he’s dancing, it means he’s weak enough to have lost that fight. And if he likes dancing, then that’s not the kind of man you want to be associating with.” Dean nodded, because at fourteen why not? Dad rarely gave guidance that wasn’t pointed, aimed directly at him. Cutting, slicing bits and pieces off and leaving them behind in whatever motel they briefly occupied.

With how Castiel moves, effortless and graceful, Dean bets he likes dancing. And if Castiel likes dancing, Dean wonders, truly, how bad it can be.

You want these people thinking you’re some kind of fairy? They already have, before he walked onto the dance floor. No son of mine is gonna dance with a man! Luckily, he won’t be dancing with one. He’ll dance, surrounded by men. Do you want to look gay, Dean? He won’t. Not if he says he doesn’t. Not if he says he isn’t.

A kid from his junior high days taught him that. How, by telling yourself what you do isn’t gay, suddenly you create your own version of truth. “Not for everything,” he warned. He paused, panting, as he – like Dean – recovered on the leather couch. Spent, video paused on his basement television, shorts – like Dean’s – around his ankles, “it doesn’t work all the time.”

“But for this?” Dean asked.

“Definitely this.”

Dean listened; those sacred words used sparingly over time. Mostly during clouded nights when the money ran out, as did their supplies, and Dean’s skills at the pool table or poker game couldn’t compare to those of his body.

He uses the words again. This isn’t gay. Castiel spins him, his chest plastered onto Dean’s back. He tries phrasing it differently. Dancing isn’t gay. Dean takes his free hand, the one not latched onto Castiel, and mirrors an earlier action he saw. Combs his fingers through Castiel’s dark brown locks. He amends and adds to it, too. Dancing is the least gay thing he can be doing in this bar. That appeases the monster clawing at his mind, its voice, eerily similar to his dad’s, fading away. Dean smiles, then lets go.

The music isn’t so bad. Dancing isn’t as bad, either. Castiel is…

Dean focuses only on the music and dancing. It’s easy, losing himself in the rhythm. Forgetting who he is, where he is, and why he is where he is. He becomes nameless, another body in motion. Faceless as the strobe lights flicker and hide his features. Thoughtless, no room for anything besides what he hears. Dean doesn’t exist save for moments that jab at his awareness. Castiel squeezing his hand. The feel of hair then stubble then hair as his touch roams. Gasps at the base of his neck that elicit headier gasps from Dean. Firm press of chest-to-back, joined hands resting over his heart while Castiel’s free hand lays atop Dean’s stomach as they rock together.

Dancing is the least gay thing he can be doing at this bar.

While it fascinates Dean, Castiel must tire of their arrangement, because he disturbs Dean’s oblivion by turning from back-to-chest to chest-to-chest. The wrong move, Dean thinks, as his vision blurs in such a violent way. The room spins and tilts long after he did, everything appearing off-balance. Save for Castiel, standing in front of him, not dancing anymore.

That’s why he throws his arms around Castiel’s shoulders, Dean’s mind comforts him with seconds later. For safety. For stability. Since he, too, wasn’t dancing anymore. His legs were useless, bent further than normal. Making him smaller. Forcing him to angle his head upwards to meet his savior’s searching gaze. Lips parted silently, asking a question with the ghost of his breath. Dean thinks he hears an invitation.

He accepts. Dives headfirst into it, vodka mixing with tequila and a spritz of lime. Castiel tastes better than any drink he’s had. He puts pressure on Castiel’s shoulder, climbing for easier access. Castiel helps; an arm braced around Dean’s waist steadies him. Guides their bodies into a holding pattern, a simple sway that won’t interfere with the others cavorting around them. Serenity made within the chaos of a raging sea; these waves don’t crash. Rather, they tenderly caress the shoreline before retreating in similar fashion. A line of sea foam, like the line of spit generously coating Dean’s mouth, the only proof it even hit.

Dean breaks from their kiss, panting. His forehead rests against Castiel’s. “That was…” he pauses, testing each word he thinks of and ultimately rejecting them all since they fail to describe what happened. He settles for, “Wow.”

“It was,” Castiel agrees, “Why’d you stop, then?”

“I stopped?” Dean sifts through his memories, those last few minutes entirely unforgettable but completely hard to recount. “I did?” he whispers, “Maybe it’s because I’m straight?”

“Are you sure?”

“I…” He can be, if he says so. Unfortunately, Dean forgets those little magic words. Trapped in limbo, the space between truths. “I’m not… I don’t know.”

Cas steps back, enough that Dean sees his entire face instead of those enchanting blue eyes. It eases the worry plaguing Dean’s mind. “Did you enjoy what just happened? What we did?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you certainly aren’t straight.”

Dean nods. He swallows a lump in his throat, feels it tear itself down into his stomach. He imagines blood spouting out of these gashes, building, climbing up in an escape attempt. He chokes on it. It might not be blood. Maybe-blood-maybe-drool leaks from the corners of his mouth as he asks, in a daze, “Does that mean I’m gay?”

“Or something like it.” Castiel reaches forward, combing through Dean’s sweaty hair in time with the music. “Hey,” he says, “it’s okay if you are. That you like… that you kissed me. It’s okay.”

It isn’t. Dean knows it isn’t. Not for him. Not with all that’s expected of him. The blueprint of who he’s supposed to be. Who Dean Winchester is. Torn to shreds and raining overhead like the actual confetti that floats down from high above. That were released without notice. Dropped there while he stands, in the middle of the dance floor, petrified by another man’s kiss. Dad’s efforts wasted.

“It’s okay,” Castiel repeats, “it’s okay…” He drifts further away; but before Dean can whine about his absence, he realizes his feet move, too. Castiel leads him from the belly of this ecstatic, partying mob.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Nowhere far, just off the dance floor.” They reach the perimeter, crowd thinned and weak; Cas releases his hold on Dean. Shrugs his shoulders, blessedly smiling at him. “Where you go and... what you do next, well – that’s up to you.”

He’s unprepared for such freedoms. The simplicity of making a choice. A foreign concept when all your life, every decision was already made for you. For other people. Keys don’t choose which doors they open. Hammers don’t make plans on which nails they’ll hit and which they’ll avoid.

Dean giggles, overcome by an intoxicating rush of getting to choose without any real consequence. No judgement, no threats, no guilt. If Dean told Castiel that kiss meant nothing and then bolted out of the bar, he would never have to deal with these conflicting thoughts, actions, and feelings. Never need to see Castiel again.

That isn’t what he wants.

Dean embraces the confusion because he, Dean, wants to. He kisses Castiel, driving them forward until they hit a wall, because he wants to. Tells him, “I want you,” because he does. Because it’s the truth.

And Castiel’s truth, “You can have me,” slots perfectly next to his.

Dean is intimately familiar with the art of kissing. Spent years practicing with ever-changing partners; girls from all over who were probably as bored as Dean felt. Girls who his dad saw and made him beam with pride. Enough girls, so that he called Dean names – different than the ones he thought Dean didn’t know about – like lady killer and chip off the ol’ block. Girls that were good kissers, bad kissers, and mostly unremarkable whatsoever. Dean lost his appetite for kissing, the act not being very fun for him. Not something he might look forward to, even if he said the right things and acted his part perfectly.

Kissing Castiel wasn’t good. Wasn’t bad. Not unremarkable in the slightest. It elevated the idea of kissing onto another level. A holy act. Placing Castiel on the same level as all his previous entanglements would be similar to heresy.

This isn’t just a kiss. It’s Dean sticking his face into a fuse box with all the switches flicked on. It’s Dean stepping out into a storm without an umbrella. It’s riding down an empty highway, no cops in sight, and abusing the gas pedal until the speedometer needle vanishes.

This kiss is apocalyptic, destroying the notion that anyone besides they two existed.

A hand joins the two roving his body, shaking his arm. Dean laughs, “How’d you do that, Cas?”

“Dean,” Not-Cas says, “hey, uh… Dean?” He turns, Castiel’s lips adorning his jaw with favor, and finds Sam on his other side. Watching. Aware of what he interrupted, given his pained smile and squinted gaze trapped elsewhere. “Sorry, but I’m…” he clears his throat, “I’m kinda ready to leave, if you… you are?”

His fingers curl where Castiel’s shirt is rucked up, dangerously teasing the line of his jeans. Castiel rolls his hips, rutting their cocks against each other again. “Yeah,” he tells Sam, “Yeah I can… we can go.”

Dean extracts himself from Castiel, slowly, taking care to disentangle themselves. Dean flattens Castiel’s mussed hair. He fiddles with the buttons of Dean’s shirts, inexplicably unfastened. Neither speak of how these things happened. “Hey,” he starts, still hovering inside the other man’s personal space, “Um… thank you, for everything. Tonight. From the bar to – uh… to he –!”

Castiel drags him into a kiss, one Dean returns heartily. His hands grabbing fabric while Castiel’s dance around his hips. Consumed by this, Dean ignores his cell phone being stolen. Only becomes aware of it when Castiel ends their goodbye with a smile, Dean’s phone in hand actively calling someone. “My number,” he explains, flipping his phone shut, “to use whenever. Hopefully soon.”

“…Thanks.”

“Good night, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.”

He lingers. He opens his phone, closes it, then slips it back into his pocket. Sam mutters an unintelligible phrase at them, shoving Dean from where he stood. Dean blindly navigates his way towards the exit, seeing nothing but Castiel’s shrinking face that disappears once they step outside.

He expected heat. It’s cold. Not actually, but cooler than the room they left, where bodies and light and energy broke the thermometer. Fresh air brushes his skin, startling Dean from his stupor. Dean jolts awake. His heart plummets down past his ass, chest hollowing. He glances at Sam, about to ask if they ever entered the bar. Or if he hallucinated everything on the walk to it. Dean’s lips purse, then flatten. Sam already walked ahead. He jogs after him.

No one speaks for half their journey.

They pass a twenty-four-hour convenience store Dean remembers, and he knows Baby waits a block around the next corner. Sam chooses then to restart their conversation. “Looks like this trip was good for both of us,” he says, hands shoved inside his pockets. He won’t meet Dean’s eyes. “Learned a lot.”

“Really?” He’s parched. Unbalanced. His feet won’t walk in a straight line, stumbling every few steps. He persists, “What?”

Sam shrugs, “I might have… over-examined that memory of Trevor.” Sighing, Sam kicks an empty, abandoned can into the street. “I guess I was searching for a reason why Jess and my relationship ended like it did. We were going so strong I… I figured it might have been me. That I wasn’t able to love her the way she needed because I couldn’t.”

“Sometimes people just don’t work,” Dean tells him, “and no amount of forcing it is gonna fix it.”

“Yeah…” He spots Baby easily, street deserted save his car and some poor, busted Beetle. Dean searches for his keys, struggling. Sam talks all the while. “And then there are some people who… who click immediately.” Dean tenses, breath stuttering. “How long have you been –?”

He’s back in the bar. He must be. How else could he hear this overwhelming, earsplitting ringing. The kind that makes him stagger, slump against the closest surface and collapse there into a tiny ball, protected from the voice that somehow talks louder than that goddamn ringing. The monster’s voice. The one that sounds strangely similar to his dad’s. Angrily shouting, calling him names. “I’m not,” he said, as always, “I’m not.”

Another sound overpowers the monster and that throbbing din. “Dean! Dean, hey… hey-hey-hey-hey Dean… it’s okay… it’s me, Sam. Sammy.” Someone touches his shoulder. Dean flinches from it. “Come on Dean… I won’t hurt you.” Their voice hitches, sounding waterlogged. “Please, Dean… wherever you think you are, you’re not. I promise. I need you, man. Sammy needs you.”

Look out for Sammy.

Dean forces himself into the present, a herculean feat as shadowed claws dig at him. Fight his attempts. He pries an eye open, then the other. There’s only Sam. Sam, kneeling in front of him on the sidewalk. Sam who, though he denies it, carries so much of their dad with him it makes staying calm near impossible. Dean sees a reflection of who Sam could be, that dad hoped Dean might be, that Sam wished he never would be. It was the reason why fatherly adoration came effortlessly when it was for Sam, even during days they hardly spoke. Dean acted as their go between. Hearing praise and relaying it; forever the messenger, carrying wounds and scars.

“Dean, are you… you’re with me, right?” Dean nods, tension melting away. He slides further, knees bumping into Sam’s. A wordless comfort. “Fuck I am so… so sorry. I didn’t, I never meant –“

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Dean. Fuck!” His shout echoes towards the moon, filling the space left by clear California night. “What if I asked you while you were driving, we could have…”

They might have died.

“Shit…” Dean hisses, rubbing his throbbing head, willing its silence so he can think. He gets one minutes. He uses it wisely, handing Baby’s keys to Sam. “Take ‘em.”

“What?”

“I drank too much anyway.” Wobbling when he rises, Dean proves that true. “You were gonna have to take it, regardless.”

Sam’s expression softens. In turn, Dean’s skin crawls. “Thank you.”

“Just go start the damn car.” Dean won’t follow. Rather sharpening his defenses for the inevitable. Bad music. Lawful driving. Plaintive whines and rhetorical questions, all in an attempt at making Dean talk. About tonight. About their childhood. About signs he didn’t see, how it felt being this while in dad’s presence. Sam will push and push and push until he’s flatter than cardboard. Contents neatly organized and fit for storage.

He hears the soft rumble of Baby’s engine, then that of his phone. A text.

Unknown Number 1 (650) 378-0914: In case you’re wondering, my name is spelled C A S T I E L ;)

Despite what a whirlwind these past few minutes felt like, Dean laughs. Giggles become snorting which become happier tears rolling across his cheeks, tracing over still-damp lines and erasing them from sight. He clutches his phone atop his heart, figure bent as he now wheezes.

Dean reigns in his giddiness. Stares at the message, wondering what he will do. Once Dean decides, he realizes his thumb was already halfway done.

He saves his number under Cas <3. Dean responds, snapping his phone closed quickly before he can reread and second guess.

Sam honks, watching with interest. A thousand questions waiting, hidden by the curious bend of his brows. Because of Castiel, Dean must face them. Will answer them. Is ready for them.

#spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #sam winchester #sam winchester is an ally #john winchester #john winchester's a+ parenting #fuck john winchester #tw: internalized homophobia #tw: abusive parent #tw: garden-variety homophobia

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laufire · 4 years

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Supernatural s4

Do I hate it. Do I love it. Who knows! Not I.

-I love Ruby even more than I did the first time around, somehow. She’s just so gr10!! And although I adore Ruby 1.0, it’s this version that I keep constantly screaming on the inside about lmao. That final monologue when she reveals her true colors is *-*

Though I will say this, I’ve never thought this was the writers’ definite plan all along lol. A possibility, certainly, but IMO there are signs that some time around mid-season they made the choice. The acting cues were clearly different, for one, but most of all: if they’d always planned to have Ruby as a double agent, they would have never, EVER allowed Dean to soften on her at ANY point lmao. The delightful weird reluctant in-laws dynamic in 4x09-10 would’ve never happened, because Dean Must Always Be Right. As it is you can see when they made up their mind because he goes back to full-on hating her and mistrusting her without any prompt on her part, just so he can have his damn “I told you so”.

The first time around I found her ending frustrating and embittering, ngl, but I think watching her cameo in 15x13 ~healed that wound LMFAO. When a show hands you a fix-it you take it xDD. It IS still frustrating -not only would she have been an interesting addition to s5 (and so on. I’m thisclose to starting a rewrite but that way madness lies. I’d start with s5 and then go “oh, but Soulless Sam in s6 sounds interesting, what about that” and on and on...), but I haaaaate her death. SAM should have been the one with the knife, not Dean. SAM deserved to be the one that killed her; RUBY deserved for Sam to be the one that killed her; I deserved for Sam to be the one that killed her, dammit.

Another frustration is how little she interacts with non-Winchester people, because really, each and every time is amazing. Anna/Ruby interactions, brief as they were, were great. So was seeing her with Castiel in 15x13. Another reason to do a rewrite is so I can have this lmfao.

-Sam’s arc is another that feels tainted by Dean Must Always Be Right Winchester (like that episode with the guy ~destined to become a monster Sam identified with. Who ofc he had to kill to protect Dean later on, because the hunter they’d gone with royally fucked up and pushed the guy) but when I could put that aside I loved it, ngl. I love me a corruption arc. And ofc, that it came with a side of Samruby made it all the better. Gosh THESE TWO!!! Looking back on it the were so formative lmfao. Demons, blood sharing, addiction arc, betrayal... Le Romance. And man, THE CHEMISTRY. I refuse to only credit the fact that the actors are an IRL couple (though maybe at the moment they weren’t yet) because I don’t feel chemistry for others in their positions lol. But they had it, they diiiiid.

BTW: I’ve begun to headcanon that Chuck lied when he said he simply hadn’t put Sam’s blood drinking in the books because it’d make him unsympathetic. I just refuse to believe that Evol Canon Bisexual God, as opposed to the dorky writer prophet mask he wears, would be so cowardly a writer xD. He didn't include it for the drama with Dean lol.

I’ll forever miss how she got in between the brothers too (especially after her demure “oh I don’t want to get between you two” “surely you can make peace later” attitude lmfao). Seeing Sam choosing her and protecting her from and even thinking of her before Dean (see when he forgot he went to buy pie for Dean because Ruby’s mere presence was too distracting lmfao) was too much fun lol.

-I remember liking Castiel the first time I watched (though I know there are episodes of his I missed because at some point I only watched Ruby’s lmao), but this time he raised to number 2 fave (after Ruby, but c’mon) so quickly. Still is in s5, where I’m enjoying him more and more (I’m even starting to react to shitty takes with him the way I do with Ultimate Faves lmao). Part of it is that he gets the best damn lines. “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition” (which, fine, I’ll admit, it felt pretty romantic to hear xD) “I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in.” “I’m considering disobedience” “I don’t serve man, and I certainly don’t serve you.” and on and on. He has an amazing (put-on) voice too, which makes them all the better.

It was relegated to second place when I properly met Megstiel lol, but before that Anna/Castiel was definitely my OTP for him. The words “we have... history” were said, so I was obligated. I loved their scenes in 4x16 (which was an outstanding episode through and through) -Anna trying to reach out, Castiel seeking her out later, Anna worrying about how he saw her, Anna refusing to tell Castiel what to do... and ofc that incredible badass scene of hers saving her life “Maybe there is [no God]. But there’s still ME.” ILH. I’m already mourning her *sniffs* (and frankly, Uriel. He WAS fun lmfao. Also I disagree with people saying he hated Castiel lol, if anything it was the opposite imo).

BTW, can we agree that Anna’s “angels don’t feel” position is bs lol. I mean, that’s what they’d like to think, sure. But IMO it’s more about how their society is extremely hierarchical and constrictive and pushes them to be perfectly obedient, and about them simply processing things differently than humans, than about a lack of emotion -Castiel is emotional, Uriel is emotional, Zacharias is emotional... so are the ones we meet in s5. Emotional does not equal “nice and fluffy and neurotypical human” just because Dean says so lmao.

Also, I’m very aware that I’m the only one that sees it this way, but I enjoy Anna/Castiel/Dean for the possibility of Dean getting caught in between these two eternal, unbearably powerful beings and their complicated history. Like, the fact that Anna full-on touched Castiel’s handprint during her sex scene with Dean had me in stitches lmfao. THIS is the OT3 I’ve been looking for.

I also reluctantly admit I’m not immune to Destiel lmfao. I was holding on in s4 but then the Endverse came at me at full speed with the strength of a truck. I hate it here xD. Mostly because I know at one point I’ll come to resent it and it’s just no fun :(

I, less reluctantly, also ship him a little with Sam lol (I must establish now I will ship Castiel with practically anyone at the drop of a hat, even characters he hasn’t met. He’s just too shippable). Sam’s disappointed faith paired with Castiel’s unsettled look when he saw Sam kill Alastair with his brain will do that.

-Dean continues to be frustrating and a Schrödinger fave in this. More on the side of hate in our love-hate relationship, if I’m honest. The Must Always Be Right thing annoys me lol, and he’s terrifying this season -the detox episode with Sam chilled me to the bone, part because he’s terrible and part because I will always relate way to much to characters in Sam’s position here ouch. “At least he dies human!” wtf wtf wtf. The brothers’ relationship got so toxic this season, which I was already aware of. I don’t even consider the fact that Dean’s original voice-mail wasn’t as bad as the one manipulated by Zacharias much: first of all, Dean’s previous attitude was more in line with wanting to kill Sam than not; second of all, if Sam, who previously on could recognize a shape-shifter wearing his brother’s skin in under ten seconds, TRULY believes Dean could kill him (which, tbf, I don’t)... that’s a whole other issue right there.

Mixed feelings on the Novaks. I feel for the tragedy and I anticipate liking Claire. There were some great moments, like when Jimmy's voice broke when he said he didn't want to say grace, or, ofc, when he offered himself for Claire. But the marriage itself was so... suburban lol. Regardless, it was good stuff, narratively speaking.

He still delights me in other ways, his inherently atheist worldview being one of them lmao. His freakout over God singling HIM out was hilarious. And I love the wangst about being a torturer in Hell, I truly do xD. It’s the kind of thing that would annoy me to death in other cases but he pulls it off. He’s the most man-pain-y character evah but also so damn hard-hearted that I sort of dig it, when he’s not too validated xD (I think also the fact that Sam didn't consider him ~strong and dignified for his angst also helped, tbh). And I plainly love this show for having it's hero TM character cave under torture; I hate stories that only depict those who do that as weak or suspicious. His interactions with Alastair -especially the one played by the last actor, who was just wonderfully creepy- were fascinating and I wish we’d seen more. BTW, I headcanon Alastair put Bela up to be tortured by Dean in Hell; no way he would’ve missed out on that, on making him face someone he actually knew. Dean probably refused to... the first time.

BTW, the moment I saw him dig out of his grave I had this flashback to BTVS’s s6... and I suddenly realized he’s basically the anti-Buffy lmfao. I will elaborate further on this when I finish s5 though, because that’s were the meat of this essay is xD

-I loved properly meeting Mary :DD. She’s gr10. I love that she was the one who figured things out while Dean and her father were playing priests. I love that she named her sons after her parents (and that she used her mother for the first born, Deanna). I love the angst of Dean finding out she explicitly didn’t want her sons to grew up as hunters. The time travel episode (the one in s5 too, it’s the last I’ve watched) was amazing. Even if I’m still angry at how pretty young!John is. John Winchester shouldn’t be Dick Grayson-pretty xD

-I couldn’t have cared less for Chuck the first time around (again, I thought he was a cowardly writer and I DON’T RESPECT THAT LOL), but knowing he’s God and the ultimate Big Bad for the show changed everything lmfao. I love this bastard. Finding out he’s canonically bi was hilarious too. Like, say what you want about this show, but who else is going to give me Evol Bisexual Judeo-Christian God, huh. Who else?!?

-Rufus and Bobby continue to be exes on the phone and I love it. Can’t wait for them to have a scene face to face so I can properly lose it.

-IDK what’s fandom take on this but we can agree that basically every time we met a pair of siblings we’re meant to see them as Dean and Sam’s reflections, right?? See: the feral siblings that didn’t know how to react to people properly because their abusive father had kept them locked up and unsocialized for their whole life. I’m Looking xD

-The episode with the old wizards was fun too. In this case whether he used the word brother or not he and his buddy were CLEARLY boyfriends xD. And this time the relationship paralleled Samruby lmfao -the “addiction” to magic and power, the other guy going behind his back and killing people to help him... Jay got to kill his Ruby personally, though :( (by stabbing himself while carrying the transference spell lol).

-Pamela’s death scene was EVERYTHING to me, as weird as it sounds xD. A secondary character allowed to go cursing out having ever met the leads and blaming them instead of comforting them?? Be still my heart, show.

-I support the ghouls’ revenge against John (only John though, everyone else was innocent there). Like, what good is killing a creature that only feeds on the dead, John, huh? How do you justify that as being about “saving people”? Nobody was getting hurt until YOU meddled biotch.

-The episode with the ghost sickness made me feel so bad for the ghost, Luther. What a fucking horrible death. He was basically keelhauled in land jfc. His killer and accessories after the fact had it coming, idgaf.

-I didn’t know I needed to see Caroline Forbes publically dumping a teen Dean but I did. I so did. It was amazing.

-Luisa D’Oliveira appearing for one (1) scene to be unrealistically ignored by a boy... smh. But since they chose to put her in a nurse costume I’m more sure than ever about this show’s nurse kink, ngl. Dean’s wishverse girlfriend, Jess, Adam’s mother, Meg’s cover in s7 to look after Castiel... it’s a thing for them, clearly.

-Between specifically bringing Wincesters to the story via Chuck’s books’ fans so that Dean and Sam can be creeped out by them, and things like Dean’s siren taking the form of a younger guy because “what he truly wants is a (better) brother”, I can see this show loved pocking fun at its fans lol. And listen, normally I deride this kind of attitude but this is the same fandom that pushed for Bela’s death because they considered her “too antagonistic to be redeemed” (THESE DUDES ALLY WITH FREAKING LUCIFER AT SOME POINT AND I DOUBT IT WAS AN ISSUE FFS. Gabriel made Sam experience Dean’s death over a hundred times that season but everyone is ready to ship them and eager for him to ally with the Winchesters. But Bela was too evol okay okay. I truly hate this fandom lmao) and I couldn’t care less if they’re mocked by the writing tbh. I only wish the show had known to cut the stupid feedback loop from early on instead of indulging in it, it would’ve been better in the long run imo, but that’s for the story’s sake only.

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spn-safeandsound · 4 years

Text

18. Ways to Grieve

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 2x02; Everybody Loves a Clown

Word Count: 11,378

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, grief, mentions of sexual activities

Author’s Note: Here’s Abby’s first hunt with Julia and the boys! I hope you like the chapter. Let me know what you think. Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Pinned Post!

Julia was tossed onto the bed by Dean—he was careful of her healing wrist—her semi-naked body bouncing a couple times. She gasped and lifted her head, watching with dazed eyes as Dean pulled his t-shirt off his body, throwing it in the corner of their temporary room at Bobby's house.

"Uh-uh," Julia clicked her tongue, eyeing his jeans.

Dean rolled his eyes and unbuckled his belt, sliding it from around his waist and letting it drop to the floor. "I was getting there."

"Sure."

"Keep talking," Dean stepped out his jeans and eagerly crawled onto the bed and over her. "I might have to punish you."

"Is that a promise?" she teased him; she reached up with her good arm and hooked around his neck. Pulling him only two inches away from her lips, she whispered, "Dean."

"Hmm?"

His green eyes were on her swollen lips, where his own had been only a moment before. She could feel his erection against her stomach and she hardly felt his bare chest against her.

She arched her back, pressing her breasts against him. "Fuck me, Dean."

Dean buried his face in the crook of her neck and groaned, pressing an open mouth kiss against her sensitive flesh. She could feel his rough hands trailing from her ribs to her thighs, spreading them so he could fit between them. "With pleasure, shortcake."

Julia rolled her neck under the warm spray of the shower, trying to relax her muscles. Last night had been another night of rough sex and while she enjoyed it just as much as all the sex she had with Dean, so many nights in a row were killing her body in the mornings before she could get it warmed up with yoga or a run.

This morning was one of those days; she had woken up at five o'clock and met with Sam so the two of them could take a run while the sun came up. Sam would talk about John, airing all the grief and regret he had about his dad and Julia would listen and comforted him when he needed it, just like a best friend should do.

It had been a week since John Winchester died and they'd been at Bobby's ever since so Dean could work on his car. Beth, Taylor, and Lizzie had stayed for a couple of days, too. They picked them—and John's body—up at the hospital and drove straight to Bobby's house, staying at one of the motels in town while Julia, Dean, and Sam stayed with Bobby. Sam was a wreck, though having Lizzie there for a couple of days distracted him from his grief, and Dean was worse.

It wasn't that he was having crying meltdowns—come on, it's Dean—but instead, he had stayed stone quiet at any mention of his dad. He didn't talk about John and he would walk away if anyone mentioned him—especially Sam.

Not that it matters, but that's what would lead to the rough sex Julia and Dean had been having. He took all of his frustrations out on her—being careful not to hurt her, of course—and Julia would let him. John had just died and if sex is what would make Dean feel better, she was all for it. Of course, she wished he would just open up but Dean wasn't that kind of guy. She stood by his side, though, doing whatever she could to help him process his grief.

When Julia and Sam were done with their jog at six, Dean was already up working in the junkyard. He had been getting up earlier than usual to fix up the Impala. It had been absolutely wrecked in the accident—and according to Bobby wasn't worth the time to fix it—but Dean was determined to fix Baby back up. Both of them muttered a good morning to Dean, but he just grumbled back, sliding under the car to fix whatever damage had happened there.

From there, Julia and Sam separated. Sam went up to the guest shower to wash off and after he was down, Julia would get a turn. While Sam was taking his time in the shower, she would make breakfast just as Bobby would wake up. It had been their schedule since they arrived a week earlier.

Hearing her stomach growl, Julia rinsed out of the rest of conditioner in her hair and turned off the water. She stepped out of the shower and dried off, inhaling deeply to get a whiff of bacon once again. She quickly dressed in some leggings and a long tank-top before heading downstairs.

Dean was still outside but Bobby and Sam were seated at the kitchen table, eating their breakfast with vigor.

"How's the breakfast?" she announced her presence as she walked into the kitchen, heading straight toward the cheddar and bacon quiche with a biscuit crust she had made.

"This is great, sweetheart," Bobby smiled at her as she served herself a piece and sat in her usual seat between Dean's chair—it was empty at the moment—and Bobby's chair. "Thank you."

Julia waved him off with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, thanks, J, it's good," Sam added.

"Thank you," she took a bite of her quiche and sighed, enjoying the flavor. "Did Dean eat?"

Bobby nodded. "He shoved a slice down his throat and went back outside. He told us to tell you thank you."

"Did he say anything else?" she prodded. "Maybe about John or how he's feeling?"

"No," Sam answered her this time. "But I found an old voicemail on Dad's phone and I think it's something we could check out. I'm gonna go talk to him after I finish eating."

Julia nodded. "Okay. What did the voicemail say?"

"It was a voicemail from Ellen," Bobby told her, giving her a pointed look.

"Ellen Harvelle? As in Jo Harvelle?"

Bobby nodded.

"So you know her, too?" Sam turned to Julia with curious eyes; Julia nodded. "How?"

"I've never met them personally but Abby talks about them all the time," she explained. "Abby hooks up with Ellen's daughter, Jo, from time to time, so—"

"Abby hooks up with the daughter?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised. "I didn't know she was bisexual."

Julia shrugged, knowing that some people may judge her sister for her sexuality but she wasn't one of them. People could love the people that they loved; she wasn't bothered by it and she proclaimed herself a proud ally for her sister. "She doesn't hide it."

"Oh," Sam hummed before shrugging casually. "Anyway, do you know why Ellen would call my dad?"

"I have no idea," Julia's eyes flickered over to Bobby. "Don't they own that bar?"

"The Roadhouse, yeah," Bobby finished the rest of his food and stood up, taking the plate to the sink. "I'll get you the address."

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam gave the older man a grateful look as he left the room; he then turned back to Julia. "I'm going to talk to Dean. Want to come with?"

"No, it's okay," Julia insisted. She wanted the brothers to have a minute by themselves; usually they were together all the time and she knew that the Winchesters needed a break from her once in a while—the same went for her, too. "You go on."

Sam nodded and went outside to talk to Dean. Even from the kitchen, where she finished her meal and started the dishes, she could feel Sam and Dean's energies clashing together. Sam was sad for his father and annoyed with Dean while Dean was guilty and angry. Each boy had more than two emotions racing around in their auras but these were the two that she could feel the strongest.

Three hours later, they were on the road in one of Bobby's cars—a minivan that hardly drove past sixty miles per hour, which was a nightmare to Dean, and had no backseat so Julia had to sit on a sheet on the dirty floor.

For some reason, a five-hour trip turned into something much longer. They arrived at the Roadhouse a little before sunrise the next day and by the time they parked out in front of the run-down bar, Dean was severely annoyed with the van and so on edge that Julia and Sam felt like if they said one word, he'd blow up—it wasn't the best way to travel.

Dean turned off the van with a huff, got out of his seat and opened the sliding door so Julia could get out (the sliding door happened to not have a handle on the inside, which aggravated the crap out of her). "This is humiliating!" he slammed the sliding door shut once Julia was safely out of the way. "I feel like a fuckin' soccer mom!"

Julia exchanged a half-amused, half-annoyed look with Sam as she adjusted her Nike shorts. She didn't understand how Sam and Dean could wear multiple layers of clothing in the hot weather and not die of heat exhaustion.

Sam tried to placate his brother. "It's the only car Bobby had running."

Julia stuck next to Dean in the front of the building as Sam wandered to the side.

"Hello?" he called. "Anybody here?"

Dean rattled the doorknob and when it wouldn't budge, he turned to Julia. "Shortcake, do you have the—"

"Yup!" Julia exclaimed, digging her hand into her drawstring bag and pulling out one of their beloved lockpicks.

Dean gave her a grateful smile and a promising wink as he took them from her. Julia could practically feel the flush in her cheeks, though the hot air around her made her feel the same, temperature wise. Dean finished up picking the lock and handed the tools back to her as he cautiously opened the door.

Julia hadn't seen many bars at the side of the road but the Roadhouse met her expectation of what they would be like. It was an open room filled with dark, dusty wood—tables, chairs, the bar—a pool table, and a jukebox in the corner by the door. Somehow, it was still cute and homey.

Julia let the door close behind her and followed the Winchester brothers further into the large room, looking around at the bottles of alcohol on the shelves behind the bar, the numerous tables, and...yeah, there was a guy passed out on the pool table.

"Hey, buddy?" Sam tried to wake him up as they all drew nearer; the man simply snored, unaware of the three people watching him. "Yeah, I'm guessing that isn't Ellen."

Dean scoffed under his breath. "No kidding."

Julia wandered off and Sam joined her while Dean stuck near the pool table. She had just walked off the mini platform that the table was on when she felt the head of a gun prod the small of her back.

"Dean," she squeaked. "Please tell me that it's you behind me and not a rifle."

There was a second of silence and then there was the cock of a gun behind her. Okay, shit, it was a rifle.

"Okay, we're not breaking in—I mean, we did break it but it's for a good reason—"

"Don't move," a woman's voice came from behind her.

"Yeah, okay, I won't move," she agreed quickly.

From his place next to the pool table, a knife pressed against his throat and a warm body against his back, Dean shook his head. He'd have to give her some more training on hostage situations. She was talking too much—as usual—and playing right into the kidnapper's hands.

He looked over to Sam, who was being held by another woman—this one older than the blonde that held her gun against Julia's back—and then back to Julia. "Jules!"

When she looked over at him, he silently tried to tell her to do the move he showed her a couple weeks ago, but he didn't need to. A familiar voice spoke behind him. "Jules, is that you? Can somebody turn on the damn lights?"

Julia recognize that voice anywhere. "Abby," Julia sighed as Abby let go of Dean; he sent her a glare and quickly took the knife from her hand, earning himself an apologetic look. "Thank God."

"Wait, this is your sister?" the older woman behind Sam asked. "Then the boys must be Sam and Dean Winchester."

"Yes, I'm Julia, Abby's younger sister, and that's Sam and Dean," Julia said quickly. "So, can you please put down your guns?"

The girl behind Julia dropped her rifle and walked to the nearest light switch, bathing the room with light. Julia first looked over at her sister—who was standing beside Dean wearing only a camisole and boy shorts—then at the blonde—who was only a couple inches taller than herself and wearing pajamas like Abby—and then at the older woman—who was lowering her gun from behind Sam's back.

"Son of a bitch," the older woman mumbled, putting the gun back on safety and setting it down on the board. Her mood lifted as she chuckled, introducing herself to Julia, Sam, and Dean. "Hey, I'm Ellen and this is my daughter, Jo."

Julia smiled at her in greeting and then turned to Jo. Jo was one of Abby's closest friends. They hooked up a bit and she had heard her sister gush over her all the time. By the way Jo was giving her an apologetic look, she assumed she had a good heart—and she was super pretty, too.

"I'm Julia, Abby's younger sister," she introduced herself, pulling Jo into a hug that made her stiffen in shock. "Sorry, most of my family are huggers," she let go, not wanting to make the blonde uncomfortable. Then she gestured to her sister, "Except that one."

"It's nice to meet you," Jo smiled softly. "Abby talks about you all the time."

"Yeah, I've heard a lot about you, too," Julia laughed and then turned to her sister, who was apologizing to Dean about something; then she saw the nick on Dean's throat. "Excuse me for a second," she told Jo before walking over to her boyfriend and sister. "Abby, what the hell?"

Abby put her hands in the air, defensive. "I didn't know who he was!"

"You've known Dean since you were born," Julia pointed out. "How do you not recognize him?"

"It was dark?" Abby's statement came out as a question. "Look, it was an accident."

Julia rolled her eyes at her sister—she was so much like Dean; shoot first ask questions later—and grabbed Dean's hand, squeezing it tightly. He returned her action as she dragged him over to where Sam and Ellen were talking. "Hi, ma'am, I'm Julia. It's great to meet you."

"You, too, sweetheart," Ellen smiled down at her.

"Do you happen to have a first aid kit?" Julia wondered, gesturing to Dean, who was holding his hand against the small cut on his throat just above his collar bone.

"Of course."

Within minutes, Dean and Sam introduced themselves to Ellen and Jo, they had sat down at the bar, and Julia was cleaning up Dean's cut and sticking a bandage over it.

"So," Dean turned to Ellen for answers about the voicemail she left John. "You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?"

"Well, the demon, of course," Ellen shrugged casually. "I heard he was closing in on it."

"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?" Dean asked, scoffing in annoyance; he didn't like to have his business out there so everyone could know. "I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?"

Julia spared at look at Abby, who smiled mischievously at her. Abby had always loved when Dean lost his temper for whatever reason. It just always brought a smile to her face; Dean absolutely hated when she did it and would just get angrier, which led to more amusement on her part. It was an endless routine that always had Julia annoyed. But, at that moment, Julia took Abby's smile to mean that she was the one who told Ellen what John and Luke were up to.

Julia shook her head at her.

"Hey, I just run a saloon," Ellen held up her hands, showing she meant no harm. "But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once."

"Oh, yeah?" Dean snarked back at her. "How come he never mentioned you before?"

Julia elbowed his bicep, whispering sharply, "Dean!"

He didn't really relax like he usually did; he kept his sharp eyes on Ellen, watching as she shifted uncomfortably.

"You'd have to ask him that."

Dean fell quiet for a second, looking back at Julia with sad eyes. Julia softened the annoyed look on her face and gave him a sympathetic look; he was lashing out because his dad was gone and suddenly there was a lady out of nowhere that knew his dad without him knowing it.

Dean's lips quirked at her before he turned back to Ellen. "So, why exactly do we need your help?"

"Hey, don't do me any favors," Ellen sassed back. "Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if..." she trailed off in realization. "He didn't send you. He's all right, isn't he?"

It was quiet for a second before Sam spoke, "No, no he isn't," he told her while Julia took Dean's hand. "It was the demon, we think. It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess."

Ellen frowned sadly. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Dean told her gruffly as Julia rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. "We're all right."

"Really, I know how close you and your dad were," Ellen said somberly.

"Really, lady, I'm fine," Dean bristled, his voice hardening.

Ellen didn't seem to mind his attitude for the moment but that didn't mean that Julia or Sam wanted Dean to continue to make things hostile.

"So, look," Sam changed the topic of conversation. "if you can help, we could use all the help we can get."

"Well, we can't," Ellen glanced at Jo before looking back at Julia, Sam, and Dean. "but Ash will."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "Ash?"

Ellen nodded and raised her voice. "Ash!"

The man who was still passed out on the pool table jerked awake, shaking his head—his blonde mullet swishing with every move—before turning around to look at Ellen. "What?" he grunted loudly. "Closing time?"

Julia looked back at Jo, Ellen, and Abby. "That's Ash?"

"Mmhm," Jo nodded while Abby smirked. "he's a genius."

Sam dropped the thick file—the one full of information that John and Luke had gathered on the yellow-eyed demon within the past year—on the bar in front of Ash. Julia watched Ash as she sat in between Abby and Sam at the bar, examining his energy—it was full of light with a happy-go-lucky attitude. Meanwhile, Dean stood on the other side of Sam, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at Ash.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Dean scowled. "This is guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie."

Ash chuckled at Dean. "I like you."

"Thanks."

Julia rolled her eyes at Dean's flat tone while Jo moved from her place at the side of the bar, where she was filling up glasses of water, and brought them over to Sam and Julia.

"Just give him a chance," she advised Dean.

Dean hesitated and Julia caught him looking at her. She pointedly moved her eyes toward Ash and cocked her head only a little but Dean got the gist; he sighed and sat down next to Sam, facing Ash.

"All right," he pushed the file over to Ash. "This stuff is about a year's worth of our dad and Luke Alexander's work. So, uh, let's see what you make of it."

Ash didn't respond to Dean's challenging smirk. Instead, he opened up the file and quickly started sorting through the papers. "Come on," he shook his head. "This shit ain't real. There ain't nobody who can track a demon like this."

"They could," Abby assured Ash while Sam and Dean exchanged a proud look. Ash cocked his head thoughtfully. "My dad is an expert in demons. Runs in the family."

"These are nonparametrics, statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations. I mean...damn," Ash said in appreciation. "They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon."

"Like crop failures and electrical storms?" Julia hummed curiously.

Ash looked over at her and winked. "You ever been struck by lightning?" he asked her, a twinkled in his eyes. "It ain't fun."

Seeing the way his brother stiffened, Sam got Ash back on track. "Can you track it or not?"

Ash nodded. "Yeah, with this, I think so but it's gonna take time. Uh, give me..." he paused to think, one of his eyes closing. "uh, fifty-one hours."

Julia smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Ash."

"No problem, sweetheart," Ash stood from his stool and started heading to the back, where Abby told her the bedrooms were located.

"Hey, man," Dean called after him, voice tense, causing Ash to turn around to face him. Dean faltered, seeing that the man had no true intensions with Julia, "I, uh, dig the haircut."

"All business up front," Ash pointed to the short hair toward the front of his head before flicking the longer hair from his shoulders. "party in the back."

Julia giggled when the door closed behind him. "I like him."

"Ash is, like, a ditzy lab with amazing tech skills," Abby nodded in agreement.

Julia hummed and hopped off her stool. "I'm gonna check out the jukebox."

Abby waved her off and she wandered away from the bar and to the jukebox in the front. She flipped through the tiles, smiling and gasping excitedly when there were a couple of eighties love songs she liked, as a warm hand slid around her waist.

"Find anything good?" Dean asked as he looked down at the jukebox screen.

"A couple," Julia looked up at him with a sweet smile that he returned. "All Out of Love, Faithfully, Can't Fight This Feeling..."

Dean's smile slipped, turning into a small grimace when she listed some of the titles. He was fully aware that Julia liked the cheesy love songs from the previous couple of decades. They were all on her iPod and she played them once in a while when Dean allowed her to pick the music—he didn't like them but he sure did love the way her face light up when she listened to them. Her favorite of the songs was, of course, Hungry Eyes. The girl watched Dirty Dancing every week without fail.

But it was kind of funny to him that she liked Hungry Eyes the most. It described the two of them and their relationship pretty closely. Whenever he looked at Julia, he got hungry eyes—whether it was sexual, loving, or emotional, it didn't matter. He always wanted Julia in every way.

"No Hungry Eyes?" he clicked his tongue, faking his disappointment.

"Nope," she didn't catch onto his acting. "Don't worry, though, I can just sing it. I've been meaning to tell you! I've got this feeling that won't subside—oof!"

Dean had put his hand to her mouth, cutting off any more lyrics that trembled in her not-so-amazing singing voice. He laughed when she giggled and pulled his hand off, kissing his palm before dropping it.

"Oh, so you're ashamed of my singing, huh?"

"Not just your singing, shortcake. I'm not so hot at it, either," Dean reminded her; it was true and if she really got going, he wouldn't be able to resist joining in with her.

He hated to admit it but the song was kind of catchy.

Back at the bar, Sam and Abby—who moved over to Julia's seat—spoke quietly, were catching up. She had just been telling him about the picture Beth emailed her from the Fourth of July, when his gaze fell to the police radio behind the bar, a thin folder beside it. He quickly apologized to Abby for changing the subject and then caught Ellen's attention.

"Hey, Ellen, what is that?"

Ellen followed his gaze. "It's a police thing," she told him, continuing to fill up the containers of salt for the tables. "We keep tabs on things—"

"No, no," Sam interrupted politely, pointing to the file. "The folder."

Ellen hesitated for a second then walked over folder. "Uh, I was gonna give this to Abby..."

"He can take a look at it," Abby smirked, knowing that Sam was terrified of clowns. She took the folder from Ellen and slid it over to Sam. "Let me know what you make of it."

"Thanks," Sam opened the folder as Abby slipped away from the bar to where Jo was wiping off a table.

Sam went through the contents of the file, quickly skimming over each paper he picked up. When he finished, he called out for Dean and Julia, who were still by the jukebox, heads close together as they laughed. "Dean, J, come check this out!"

At the sound of her name, Julia pulled away from Dean and looked over at Sam, who was waving at them from the bar. She ignored Dean's sigh with a light smirk and linked their hands, pulling him over to see what Sam was looking at.

"Yeah?" Dean grumbled.

"A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of," Sam informed them, showing them the research. "Looks to me like there might be a hunt."

"Yeah," Dean raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"So, I told her we'd check it out—"

"And you're not going without me," Abby interjected, bounding toward her little sister and the Winchester brothers. "Let me pack my stuff and we can go."

Dean grimaced. "Yeah, let's not—" he grunted when Julia poked him in the ribs, glaring up at him; Abby sent him the same look. "We'll wait outside."

"Good. We'll take my car."

"A clown?" Julia clicked her tongue, taking the file that Sam handed back to her and opening it up. "A killer clown?"

"I'm pretty sure that's what I said, Jujube," Abby rolled her eyes from the driver's seat of her Ford Explorer before focusing back on the road. "He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to shreds."

"And this family was at some carnival that night?" Dean asked.

Julia's eyes flickered to the top of the printed article she was reading. "Cooper Carnivals."

"So, Gail, how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?"

Abby glared at him through the rearview mirror. "Don't call me that, Deanna."

"Hey, now!"

Julia rolled her eyes and though she couldn't see Sam, she knew he was, too. Abby and Dean were never best friends growing up like she and Sam were. They acted like siblings who couldn't stand one another. It came from love, sure, but it could be a little annoying sometimes.

"The cops have no viable leads, Dean," Sam sighed before they could really get going. "and all the employees were tearing down shop."

"Alibis for each of them."

Sam agreed with Julia while Abby added, "Plus, this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course."

Dean hummed. "Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam," he chuckled. "Why did it have to be clowns?"

"That's right!" Abby exclaimed, joining Dean in laughter. "Oh, my God, do you remember that time we went to Mickey D's and Ronald McDonald came out to visit the kid's play place and Sam peed his pants?"

Seeing the severely annoyed look on Sam's face, Julia had the sense to hold in her laughter. Her stomach hurt and her eyes stung but she did it. Dean, however, was howling with gut-bursting laughter. It was nice to see that bright smile on his face.

"After that, he'd burst out crying every time he saw a McDonald's commercial!"

"Oh, come on!" Sam protested weakly; when Julia couldn't help but join in, he shot back, "At least I'm not afraid of flying, or spiders," he pointed at Julia and then Abby. "or horses."

"Planes crash!"

"Spiders are poisonous!"

"Wait, wait," Dean caught up, shaking his head. He leaned forward and dipped to the side so he could see Abby's face from his spot next to Julia. "You're afraid of horses?"

Julia snickered while Abby scoffed. "We were talking about Sam's ridiculous clown phobia, remember?"

Julia shook her head and patted Sam's arm soothingly. "Don't worry, S, your phobia is valid. Apparently clowns do kill."

"Thank you, J," he gave Dean a pointed glare which had his brother chuckling again.

"All right," Dean calmed down. "So, these types of murders, have they ever happened before?"

"It's in the file," Abby told him, turning on the windshield wipers as they drove into some light rain. "Take it away, Julia."

"Yeah, the file says it happened in 1981," Julia hummed. "at the Bunker Brothers Circus. Same M.O. Three different times, three different places."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "That's weird, though. I mean, if it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know? A house or a town."

"So, how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?" Sam wondered.

"Maybe it's a cursed object," Abby chewed on her lip. "A spirit attached itself to something and the carnival carries it around with them."

"Great. It's a paranormal scavenger hunt."

"This case was your idea," Dean reminded his brother. "By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

Julia wrinkled her nose uncomfortably and faced her foggy window. She was all for the brothers sharing how they felt with each other but lately, Dean had been too irritable. He didn't like those kinds of chick-flick moments, anyway, but after his dad died, he'd been avoiding them more than ever. Especially because Sam kept pushing him about dealing with his grief.

Abby kept quiet as well, not wanting to intrude on the brothers' business.

Sam shrugged. "So?"

"It's just not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt."

"I don't know, I just think this job...it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."

"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean scoffed, looking at Sam in disbelief.

Oh, God, please don't let this turn into another fight, Julia pleaded mentally.

"Yeah, so?" Sam looked back at him, daring him to say something."

Dean shook his head and turned away from his brother. "Nothing."

Julia rubbed her nails over Dean's scalp, making sure that the shampoo she had applied for him was getting his hair nice and clean. They struggled in the small shower-bathtub combo and Dean had to get on his knees in order for her to even reach his hair in the first place, but they made it work.

"It's what Dad would have wanted," Dean repeated Sam's words with a scowl, holding onto her hips for balance. "He didn't give a fuck what Dad wanted a week ago."

Julia hummed to show that she was listening as she went toward the front of his head, rubbing the soap into his sideburns.

"He didn't even want to hunt," he went on. "He got out and he said he wanted to get out again! What, Dad dies and now he's wanting to carry on the family business all of a sudden?"

"I don't think that's it, babe. Here, lean your head back," she gestured toward the water; Dean did as he was told and rinsed his hair. "Sam's grieving just like you are. If hunting is what helps him deal with the fact that your dad's gone, then let him."

"I know," Dean grumbled, getting to his feet and switching places with Julia. "No, no, you need to stand—yeah, that's fine—I get it but it just bugs me."

Julia frowned sympathetically and rinsed the conditioner out of her hair. "I'm sorry that you're going through this, Bean."

The corner of Dean's lips quirked only a little. "It's not your fault, shortcake," he murmured, bowing his head to press a soft kiss on her bare shoulder. It wasn't sexual in nature, just loving. "You're helping me."

Her heart melting, Julia grinned when she saw that he had some excess soap on his nose. She stood on her tiptoes to wipe it off. "You're adorable."

"I'm not adorable," he pouted, making her giggle.

"I beg to differ, hotshot."

After Julia and Dean were dried off and dressed, they met up with Sam and Abby in the room next door before heading over to the local fairgrounds, where Cooper Carnivals was located for the week. Detectives were already on the scene when they arrived, forcing them to rethink their plan of faking police.

Dean went to talk to the detectives, so Julia, Sam, and Abby waited by the Tilt-a-Whirl that was being set up. A short woman dressed as a clown had walked by and she and Sam had the most awkward—and hilarious—showdown with their eyes . It lasted what felt like a whole two minutes, with Julia and Abby snickering at Sam, before the woman smirked at him and walked away.

Dean, who was walking back to them, had seen the whole thing. "Did you get her number?"

Sam scowled at him while Julia wheezed, her chest aching from lack of breath. Abby slapped her arm to get her to stop, a cheesy grin on her face, and addressed Dean, "Were there more murders?"

"Two more last night," Dean confirmed. "Apparently they were ripped to shreds and they had a little boy with them."

"Who fingered a clown," Sam assumed.

Julia quirked an eyebrow and shared a look with Dean and Abby.

"What?"

"Nothing," Dean told his brother. "anyway, the clown apparently vanished into thin air."

Abby hummed thoughtfully, biting her lip. "Looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. They could be anything."

"It's bound to give off EMF," Dean said distractedly, looking around nearest carnival trailers. "We'll just have to scan everything."

"That's nice and inconspicuous."

Dean didn't respond to Sam's sarcasm with any of his own. "I guess we'll just have to blend in."

"You boys picked a hell of a time to join up," Mr. Cooper, the owner and boss of Cooper's Carnival, led Sam and Dean into his trailer. It was a tiny little thing with half of it being living space and the other half office space. Mr. Cooper gestured to his desk, where two chairs were waiting on the other side. "Take a seat."

A grin started to stretch across Dean's face as he took in the chairs; one of them, the closest to the door, was decorated to look like a clown. He didn't bother looking at his brother and rushed to the normal chair, pushing Sam away as he attempted to avoid the clown chair.

Dean smirked at Sam as Mr. Cooper finished, "We've got all kinds of local trouble."

"What do you mean?" he turned his attention back to the older man.

"Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first," Mr. Cooper said casually. "So, you two ever worked the circuit before?"

"Uh, yes, sir," Sam confirmed solemnly, disturbed by his chair. "Last year through Texas and Arkansas."

Dean gave Mr. Cooper a fake smile. "Yeah."

"Doing what?" Mr. Cooper asked skeptically. "Ride jockeys? Pull shoot? A-and-S men?"

Dean had absolutely no idea what any of those jobs were. He bet that Abby or Julia would know, though. The Petersen women were smart like that. Unfortunately, it wasn't very realistic for four people to apply for jobs together as a group so they had to stay on the sidelines at the moment—Abby wasn't very happy about that.

"Yeah," Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. "it's, uh, little bit of everything, I guess."

Mr. Cooper cocked his head knowingly. "You two have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?"

"Nope," Dean didn't try to bullshit his way around this. "but we really need the work...oh, and, uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady."

He chuckled to himself but quieted down when Sam gave him a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing look.

"You see that picture?" Mr. Cooper pointed to a framed photo on the top of the filing cabinet next to his desk. "That's my daddy."

The guy in the photo looked exactly like Mr. Cooper. Too much like him, if you asked Dean.

Sam noticed the likeness, too. "You look just like him."

"He was in the business. Ran a freakshow until they outlawed them in most places," Mr. Cooper informed them. "Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess."

Honestly, if Dean was born different like that, he wouldn't do either. Two negative choices on either end didn't sound like a good way of living. Choosing between being laughed at for money or rotting away in a hospital? No, thank you. He was good.

"You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts. Always has been for folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you two?" Mr. Cooper leaned forward in his seat. "You should go to school. Find a couple of girls. Have two-point-five kids. Live regular."

Their lives weren't normal and they would never be. Julia and Sam? They were the lucky spectrum of hunters who had a taste of a normal life. Most of them lived and breathed hunting and that included Dean. He didn't know how to do anything else.

He had a girl and Julia was one of the two most important people in his life. He was lucky to have her because most hunters aren't able to find a significant other who even understood the life, let alone someone who lived it. And kids? He still thought about the dream he had of Peter and Jonah but it was just that—a dream.

Even if he wanted that apple-pie life, it wouldn't happen. It wasn't in the cards for him.

He went to tell Mr. Cooper that but Sam beat him to it. "Sir, we don't want to go to school and we don't want regular. We want this."

Dean looked at Sam in complete shock. Sam had told him before their run-in with Yellow-Eyes and the death of their father that he intended to go back to Stanford when everything was over. Sam didn't want to hunt for the rest of his life, he made that clear. Now, all of a sudden, he didn't want to go back?

Dean stared at the gravel under his feet as he and Sam walked away from Mr. Cooper's trailer, contracts of employment in their pockets. "Huh."

"What?"

"That whole, uh, I-don't-want-to-go-back-to-school thing," Dean gestured to the trailer behind them. "Were you just saying that to Cooper or were you, you know, saying it?"

Sam hesitated.

"Sam."

"I don't know," Sam looked away from him, looking around at the rides that were now up and running for the day.

"You don't know?" Dean scoffed. "I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State."

Sam stopped walking only a few feet from the parking lot where Julia and Abby were waiting for them in the Explorer. "I'm having second thoughts."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I think Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job."

That made Dean pause. Sam had spent most of his life fighting with their dad and had taken off for almost four years, without any contact, and now he wanted to join the family business for good. Just because their dad died. It infuriated Dean that Sam was only now wanted to do what John had wanted him to do. It was too little, too late.

"Since when do you give a fuck what Dad wanted?" his voice hardened as he questioned his brother. "You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam."

"Since he died, okay?" Sam admitted. When Dean nodded knowingly; he must have had an irritated look on his face because Sam bristled. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nah," Dean lied. "I don't have a problem at all."

He continued walking without another word, heading straight to Abby's vehicle. Julia rolled down the passenger window as he approached and he leaned his arms on it as he greeted them.

"Did you get the job?" she asked him with happy eyes.

He wished that he could maintain a quarter of the happiness that Julia always had within her. Maybe he wouldn't be a dick most of the time. Maybe he'd handle his dad's death better. Maybe he'd be actually able to talk about how he felt instead of keeping it bundled inside of him until he blew up. He wasn't that person, though, and that was okay. Julia was his person and she could be happy enough for the both of them.

"With benefits," he forced a smirk onto his face. "We start at noon."

"Nice," Julia smiled and leaned toward him. "Hey, did you happen to see if they had funnel cakes?"

"What's a carnival without funnel cake, Junior?"

It was hard to walk around the crowded carnival with full hands and eat funnel cake at the same time but somehow, Julia managed. With a yellow balloon tied around her wrist, a blow-up baseball bat and a small stuffed lion in the crook of her arm, and her cell phone pinned between her ear and shoulder, she was able to stuff the sugary deliciousness into her mouth while keeping an eye out for any suspicious clown activity and keeping in contact with Abby.

Half of Sam and Dean's shift had already gone by and none of them found anything. Sam and Dean had the EMF readers out and going while they picked up trash from the carnival goers but, according to Dean, they had canvased half the fairground and there was zip to show for it.

There was only so much to do at a carnival and Julia had done it all. She rode all the rides, going for the Tilt-a-Whirl and spinning strawberries five or six times, played a bunch of games while only winning twice, and had eaten at three different booths. Don't get her wrong, carnivals were exciting and she loved them as much as the next person but she was by herself after she and Abby split up in the second hour and now, she was growing bored.

"I'm passing the frozen lemonade stand now," Julia informed her sister, who was looking to meet up with her, as she passed the crowded booth.

"The one next to the deep-fried twinkies, the chili dogs, or the turkey legs?"

"Turkey legs—wait, there's deep-fried twinkies?" she wanted one of those. "Where?"

"By the Ferris wheel," Abby told her. "I don't think you need one of those, Jules."

"Sure I do," Julia didn't understand why she didn't need one. She liked snack cakes and if it was deep-fried? All the better. "I'm headed toward the Ferris wheel."

Before she could even turn back the way she came from, a calloused hand grabbed her elbow. She jumped and whirled around, about to drop her prizes and funnel cake to beat the person's ass, but faltered when she saw that it was Dean. He looked so cute dressed in his red carnival jacket.

"Oh, Dean's here," she said to Abby. "I'll call you back."

"Ugh, fine."

Dean grabbed the phone from in between her shoulder and head with a small smile, ending the call for her. "You look like you've been busy," he shoved the phone in his jeans so he could take a piece of her funnel cake. "Having fun?"

"I'm getting bored," she confessed. "Oh, I got you something."

Dean smirked teasingly at her. "Look at that, my girl won me a prize," Julia laughed and handed him the little stuffed lion. "Oh..."

Julia wrinkled her nose as she studied the almost blank look on Dean's face as he held the stuffed lion. "You can put it on your dashboard or, uh..." she hesitated. "or I can take it back if you don't want it."

"Of course I want it," Dean grinned at her and stuffed the lion into his jacket pocket. "I love it."

"You do?"

"Yes," Dean was careful not to jostle her enough so that she could drop her funnel cake or inflatable bat while he pressed his lips to hers quickly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Julia gave him another kiss before he could pull away fully. "So, have you found anything yet?"

"I haven't but Sam has," Dean told her. "Apparently there's a human skeleton in the fun house."

Julia raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Any EMF?"

"No, but I was on my way to check when I ran into you," Dean gestured behind him with his thumb before grabbing another piece of her funnel cake. "Wanna head there?"

"Sure," Julia agreed.

Before they could even start walking in the direction of the fun house, they were stopped by Papazian, the blind knife-thrower that had teared into Dean while he was asking for directions for Mr. Cooper's trailer earlier that morning.

"What are you doing here, kid?"

Dean and Julia shared an alarmed look.

"I'm...I was just, uh, sweeping and taking my break," Dean struggled to answer him.

"Bull," Papazian wasn't having Dean's nonsense. "And what were you two talking about? Skeletons? What's EMF?"

Julia furrowed her eyebrows while Dean looked at him in surprise, "Dude, your blind man hearing is out of control."

"Hey, we're a tight-knit group, we don't like outsiders," Papazian proclaimed. "And we take care of our own problems."

Julia stiffened when she felt the man's aura pulse angrily and darken drastically. Something was off about him.

Dean sized him up, finding an issue of what Papazian did say, rather than what he didn't. "We got a problem?"

Another flare of anger.

"You tell me, you're the one talking about human bones."

Dean hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"What?"

"My brother, me, and our girlfriends—" Abby would get a kick out of that, Julia was sure. "—we're writing a book about them."

Papazian seemed to except that and went on his way. Julia stared after him, not liking his aura or the vibes he was giving off. He certainly didn't feel like a normal human being; he was dark and had a severe hunger.

Without noticing, she and Dean ended up at the funhouse, where Sam and Abby were waiting for them.

"What took you so long?" Sam asked Dean.

Dean grimaced. "Long story."

"Mommy, look at the clown!" a chirpy voice that could only belong to a little girl came from only a few feet away from them.

They all turned their attention to her, watching as the mom questioned where the clown was and when the little girl pointed to nothing, she hurried her daughter toward the parking lot. Once they were gone, Julia, Dean, Abby, and Sam exchanged knowing looks.

Julia finished typing her email to Beth, giving her a brief summary of how the boys were dealing with John's death and making sure to include video of her and Abby that told her, Taylor, Lizzie, and Maggie that they missed them. Once the email was sent, she started looking up supernatural creatures that dressed up as clowns.

She didn't think this was a spirit for two reasons. One, Sam and Dean had found no EMF, even on the skeleton from the fun house. And, two, something about Papazian gave her a bad feeling. Like worse than a common spirit usually did.

She shared her thoughts with Abby, who had stayed behind with her when Sam and Dean went to watch the little girl's house—in a totally not creepy way—and was currently cleaning her weapons on her and Sam's bed.

"All right, tell me again—"

"I told you, Abby," Julia rolled her eyes and looked away from her laptop. "I had a bad feeling about Papazian."

"So, what, you're Luke Skywalker now?" her older sister joked; Julia gave her an unamused look. "Okay, sorry. So, if you think that Papazian is behind this people-eating clown, what do you suppose it is?"

Julia grimaced. "Honestly, I was hoping you would know."

Abby shook her head with a laugh and climbed off her bed to settle next to Julia on hers. "Let me show you something."

Abby grabbed the computer from her pajama-clad lap and onto hers. She went to PSC's website and went to the employee section. That led them to another site where she maneuvered her way to a page where one of the links under IT tech brought them to a private website that they had to use a username and passcode to get in. It was that website that amazed Julia.

Similarly set up to PSC's website, this one had hunting items for sale like silver bullets and particular knives that a hunter might need and so on. There was a forum where hunters could post information that they've come across on hunts or if they needed a partner for a hunt, they could search there. And there was an online encyclopedia that was Julia's favorite, where each letter in the alphabet had sections that would list creatures under that letter and could lead you to more information.

She had no idea that the website had ever existed.

"How do I get in?" Julia asked. "Like, how do I get my own username and password?"

"I'll give Frank a call and have him add you, Dean, and Sam," Abby said casually. "He's the IT guy where you get the link."

"He works for us?" the picture of Frank made him seem like a very grumpy man who didn't play well with others.

"Kind of. He runs this site and he makes sure it's secure but he's pretty much a recluse," she hummed. "I think he knew Nana Rachel and Papa Isaac."

"Huh," Julia's maternal grandmother, Rachel, had died before she was born but her Papa Isaac was a great man. He was gone now, having died only a few years before her mother went.

Abby laughed lightly, rolling her eyes at her younger sister. "All right," she moved off of Julia's bed and went back to hers, starting up her own laptop. "Let's start narrowing down possibilities."

The sun had finally risen after two hours of hiding in a stolen car in the middle of nowhere, covered by a thicket of bushes so the police wouldn't be able to spot them. Their whole night blew; the mysterious apocalyptic clown had turned out not to be a spirit and it had definitely gotten away when the little girl screamed at their attack, alerting her parents to the fact that two strange men and a murderous clown were in their house.

They had run out quickly after that and had found a spot just out of town to stay hidden until dawn. Luckily, Dean wasn't left alone with Sam—well, he was but they were also on the phone with Julia and Abby in order to find out what this clown really was. All they knew so far was that the creature was corporeal, wasn't affected by salt, and could make itself invisible. So, thankfully, there was no talking of any kind about the death of John Winchester.

Unfortunately, now that Sam and Dean were beginning their trek heading back to the outskirts of town so that Julia and Abby could pick them up, they had plenty of time to talk. Unluckily enough for Dean, Sam did just that.

"Hey, uh, you think that Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"

Dean was in no mood to talk about his dad—even if it wasn't about the subject of his death. It was hot out, the sun was searing the back of his neck, he was tired, and he was definitely hungry. The last thing he wanted to do was theorize about his father's flings.

"Nah."

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out."

That was something that John was actually consistent about; he always fell out with other hunters—Bobby wasn't the only one and if John was still alive, he certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Yeah," Sam sighed. "You ever notice how Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?"

Dean nodded his head noncommittedly. There wasn't a need to answer. They both knew it was the truth and there wasn't a reason to hash out the fact that their father was a stubborn asshole who always thought that he was right.

Just thinking of John that way—even though he had those kinds of thoughts a lot while he was alive—made him nauseous. His dad was dead and here he was, thinking bad of him. This was why he didn't want to think about John. Because there was too much to think about. If he thought about how his dad treated him while he grew up, or how he didn't have a childhood because of him—or how he missed out on so much in life, the suspicion around his restored health just before his dad died, or about the last words John said to him—he would break down. And he couldn't. He wasn't that person.

He wouldn't be that person.

Sam noticed his melancholy mood. "Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man."

Dean shot him a look. "What do you mean?"

"I meant this strong-silent thing of yours. It's crap and I'm over it—"

"Oh, God," Dean expressed his irritation before Sam was finished speaking.

"This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad," Sam said, annoyed. "I know how you felt about the man."

"You know what, back off, all right?" Dean snapped at him. "Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to—"

"No, no, no," Sam objected, cutting him off. "that's not what this about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this but you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay."

Dean clenched his jaw. "Dude, I'm okay!" he raised his voice. "I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me."

Sam stopped walking and turned to Dean with a bewildered look. "What are you talking about?"

"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad," Dean shot straight, unable to hold back his opinion of Sam's change of heart. "It's like, oh, what would Dad want me to do? Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, fuck, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him."

Sam grimaced and yeah, Dean felt a little guilty about his heated words but if Sam wanted him to share his feelings, he was going to do it.

"And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right?" he continued. "Well, I'm sorry, Sam, but you can't. It's too little, too late."

Sam's hazel eyes sparkled with tears. "Why are you saying this to me?"

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself!" Dean exclaimed. "I'm dealing with Dad's death. Are you?"

Sam pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw, obviously fighting back the anger he felt at Dean. Dean wished that he wouldn't; maybe he wanted to get Sam mad, wanted him to fight back. Maybe physical pain would take his attention away from all that he was feeling.

"I'm going to call Abby," Sam finally said.

It was only when Sam had slumped away from him that Dean started to feel guilty. This was his little brother; he was supposed to protect him, not make him feel worse.

Twenty minutes later, he and Sam were sliding into the backseat of Abby's car, relaxing as cool air surrounded them. Without a word, Julia—who was taking the opportunity to sit shotgun—had handed them each a breakfast sandwich and some hash browns. Of course, it was McDonalds; Dean wasn't a fan of them but Julia loved their breakfast, especially the sausage, egg, and cheese bagel. He wasn't surprised to see that she had her bagel sandwich in her lap.

He smiled at her in thanks and immediately took a bite of his own sandwich.

"All right, so, I'm pretty sure this thing is a rakshasa," Abby spoke up as she started driving back to town.

"What's that?" Dean asked around a mouthful of food.

"It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures," she told him and Sam. "They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited."

"So, they dress up like clowns and the children invite them in," Sam assumed.

Both Abby and Julia nodded in response.

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?"

"No idea," Abby sighed, answering Dean's question. "Maybe there's not enough meat on their bones."

"Abby," Julia gave her sister a disapproving look, her face paling a little.

Abby shrugged nonchalantly.

"So, what else did you find out?" Sam wondered.

"Apparently, rakshasas live in squalor," Julia answered this time, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "They sleep on a bed of dead insects. And they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years."

"That makes sense," Dean nodded. "I mean, the carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81."

Sam agreed, "Right, and probably more before that."

"All right," Dean clicked his tongue and looked toward the front of the car. "So, did the lore say how to kill this bastard?"

"A dagger made of pure brass," Abby smirked, tapping her fingers against her steering wheel, the red polish on her nails gleaming brightly in the sunlight. "Luckily, I have one in my collection."

"Good," Dean said decidedly. "Let's go gank the blind guy."

Julia didn't particularly like being in a bar full of other hunters. Something about it just made her stomach twist. Maybe it was because she hadn't worked with other hunters except Sam, Dean, Abby, John, and her father...or maybe it was because of the leering looks they gave Jo as she wandered around, giving them the pints of beer that they ordered. Honestly, she felt bad for the blonde; she had been on the receiving end of disgusting leers but never everyday all day. It had to be tiring.

Jo was a spitfire, though, and she could totally handle herself. That was what Julia liked the most about her, other than the fact that she was funny and easily kept up with Abby's banter. Abby wasn't the type to settle down with a boyfriend or girlfriend, but if she did, Jo had Julia's vote. The blonde was special and so was Ellen. They'd fit into the family great.

Ellen came over to her with a bottle of beer and a glass of soda in her hands just as the familiar weight of Dean's arm slid around her waist. He sat on the bar stool next to her and accepted the beer from Ellen with a grateful smile.

"You guys did one hell of a job," the older woman praised one half of their quartet.

Julia smiled at her and accepted her cola. "Thanks, Ellen."

Ellen backed off with a smile and went to dry some glasses. As soon as she was out of earshot, Dean turned to her with a mischievous grin on his face. "I think your sister is chatting up Sam."

"Oh?" Julia gave him an excited look, though it was more for his benefit. She didn't really know how to feel about Abby and Sam hooking up. It wasn't because she didn't think they wouldn't make a great pair but Abby was a player and she didn't want her sister to hurt Sam, who was more emotionally intense when it came to stuff like that.

Dean nodded excitedly. "And I don't think she's the only one."

Julia gave him a confused look and glanced over his shoulder; at the other side of the bar, Sam sat with Abby and Jo on either side of him, both wearing flirtatious smiles.

Oh.

Julia coughed uncomfortably and placed her attention back on Dean, who still had that shit-eating grin on his face. "It's very weird that you're so excited about Sam's possible hook-ups."

Dean shrugged. "It's good to see him get back on the horse—or horses—heh-heh."

"Please don't refer to Abby and Jo as horses, D."

"Sorry," Dean shrugged, his eyes locking on the door that led to the resident area of the bar. "Look, there's Ash."

Ash walked over to them and set his laptop on the bar next to them. "Jules, Dean," he nodded at them and waved Sam over; Sam excused himself from Abby and Jo. "Where have you guys been? I've been waiting for ya."

"We were working a job, Ash," Sam came to stand behind Julia. "Clowns."

Ash gave him a you-have-to-be-shitting-me look. "Clowns? What the fuck?"

"You got something for us, Ash?" Dean asked before he could go on a tangent.

Ash nodded and opened up his laptop, which was stripped down to wires, the hard drive, keypad, and screen. Julia guessed that he had built the computer himself because she was pretty sure you couldn't buy one of those. Jo did say he was a genius.

"Did you find the demon?" Sam asked.

"It's nowhere around," Ash answered gravely. "At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises his head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like divine on dog dookie."

Julia quirked an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig will go off," Ash explained and turned the laptop, showing them the screen; there was some type of radar and database pulled up. "Like a fire alarm."

Dean's eyes lit up as he looked over the computer; he reached for it and Ash stiffened, cocking his head. "Do you mind...?"

Ash clicked his tongue and the hand that Dean had almost put on the mouse slowly retreated.

"What's up, man?" Ash lifted his chin in a swift nod.

Julia grinned at Dean's pout while Sam asked, "Ash, where did you learn to do all of this?"

"MIT, before I got bounced for fighting," Ash answered casually.

Sam quietly scoffed in disbelief. "MIT?"

Ash nodded. "It's a school in Boston."

"I like you, Ash," Julia laughed as she reached for a high five from the genius blonde. "You're the best."

Ash returned the high-five sluggishly, though the crooked grin on his face gave away his friendliness. "You too, sweetcheeks."

"Okay," Dean said all too quickly. "give us a call as soon as you know something?"

"Si, si, compadre," Ash confirmed, taking Dean's bottle from in front of him and gulping down the rest.

The three of them got ready to leave. As Julia paid their tab, Ellen spoke up, "If you guys need somewhere to stay, we've got a couple of rooms in the back."

Dean exchanged looks with Julia and Sam before answering, "Thanks, but no. There's something I gotta finish."

Hours later, as the sun set, Dean was crouched down in front of the back-right tire of his baby, tightening the bolts of the new tire until they were just right. When he heard the gravel shift to his right, he didn't bother looking up. He knew it was Sam just from the gait of his steps.

Great, he grumbled to himself, another pep talk.

He finished with the tire and only then did he look up; Sam was standing behind the newly restored trunk, kind of huddled in on himself.

"You were right."

Dean stood up straight and walked around Sam in order to set his wrench back in the toolbox. "About what?"

"About me and Dad," Sam elaborated. "I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him."

Dean didn't respond; he had nothing to say.

"So, you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little, too late," Sam paused for a moment, his eyes filling with tears. "I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right. Not at all...But neither are you, that much I know...I'll let you get back to work."

Sam left and headed back into Bobby's house. Dean turned around, a mess of emotions brewing at the bottom of his stomach. It built and it built until it rested in his chest. There was anger and hurt and resentment, and oh-so much grief...And all of it was because of his dad.

His dad, who treated him like a little soldier. His dad, who taught him how to shoot a gun when he was way too young. His dad, who left his baby brother in his care when he was only five years old. His dad, who made him grow up much too soon. His dad, who made him feel safe even when there were beings that came out of his nightmares living in the world around him. His dad, who loved him and Sam so much. His dad, who was dead.

His dad was dead.

He hastily picked up the crowbar next to his toolbox and whipped around, slamming it into the driver's window of an old car behind him. Glass shattered onto his lower torso, legs, and feet but he didn't care. It wasn't enough, it wasn't enough to describe how he was feeling.

He smashed the crowbar into Baby's trunk; it bounced but didn't budge or break. He did it again and again, over and over, as his anger exploded from him like a bomb. At the moment, he didn't care that he was trashing his beloved car all over again; the Impala just reminded him too much of his dad.

His blood was pumping, he was sweating profusely, and tears had sparked in his eyes as he bashed Baby's trunk until there was a decently sized hole in the middle. Only then did he drop the crowbar, where it made it tinkling sound against the gravel. He turned in the direction of Bobby's house, as if Sam would be able to feel his angry glare from where he was standing, but he came face-to-face with Julia.

His beautiful Julia. Julia, who had been understanding throughout the week since John's death, letting him fuck his frustration out on her. Julia, who had been good about giving him space to deal with his grief. Julia, who was the sunshine in his dark and cloudy mind. Julia Ruth Petersen, who was too fucking good for him.

And there she stood, a small smile on her face that felt like home. There was love and understanding in her eyes as she waited for him to do something, anything, but it made his stomach turn. She was good and he wasn't. He would just bring her down.

He was poison; his dad dying had proved that.

So, even though Julia there, waiting to support him and love him, he walked away from her.

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

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tomishaped · 3 years

Text

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence • Major Character Death

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Supernatural

Relationship:

Dean Winchester!Izzy Hlton

Characters:

Dean Winchester • Izzy Hilton • Sam Winchester • Asmodeus • Dagon • Demons • Hellhound • Ellen Harvelle • Jo Harvelle • Hunters • Crowley • Charlie Bradbury • Bobby Singer • Ruby • Death • Pestilence • Famine • War • Castiel • Angels • Cain

Additional Tags:

Demon Dean Winchester • Demon Sex • Kidnapping • Gay Sex • Blood • Blood Kink • Hate Sex • Love/Hate • Major Character Injury • Major Original Character(s) • Character Death • Past Child Abuse • Past Rape/Non-con • Past Sexual Abuse • Past Torture • Past Violence • Canon-Typical Violence • Violence • Protective Dean Winchester • Bisexual Dean Winchester • Top Dean Winchester • Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings • Izzy is too • Emotional Hurt/Comfort • Emotional/Psychological Abuse

Summary: After being pulled out of hell Dean realizes quickly that the four months he had been gone made way for a lot of changes in the lives of everyone he knows, including the life he had known for himself before he died. Nobody was treating him the same, and there was seriously something going on with his brother that he could not figure out. He was spending most of his time alone nowadays, not really hunting anymore since Bobby and Sam were against it for him, and spending most of his time drinking instead to try and forget. He was angry, pretty much all the time. That anger really worked in his favour though when walking back to the impala he came across a freaking hoard of demons getting ready to attack some blond chick. He didn't know who she was or what the hell all the demons wanted with her, but there was no way he could just walk away. Maybe if he had any idea what trying to save this person was going to lead too he would have just walked away, maybe if he had actually given any thought to the situation before him he wouldn't have put himself in the middle of it, but even before hell he made impulsive and rash decisions... so maybe not.

Previous Chapters:

• Chapter One • Chapter Two: Part One •

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Two: Welcome to the Batcave

Part Two

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izzy watched the other actually curious for a moment to see if he would finally catch what he said. Aaaand, there it was! He had to give the hunter some props, he was taking the fact that he mistaked Izzy for a girl better than he could remember anyone else had. Demons especially hated him for it. Not for the same reasons that humans seemed too, most demons really didn't care what your fucking gender was as they body hopped so often, what they didn't like was that someone so small, sweet, and innocent looking was actually a deadly assassin sent by a prince of hell. And worse, he was good at it. Izzy looked away from him again and back at the book he was holding when Dean started to talk, crossing one leg over the other as he started to look through the book. "If the idiots would just abandon their stupid plans of trying to break Lucifer from the cage I would just leave them alone," Izzy muttered as most of his attention was back to the book in his hands, not realizing he even said it out loud or knowing if Dean had heard about what this specific group of hellions were planning. "I wouldn't count too much on actually finding one, I've only ever found info on one and I can't find that fucker for the life of me. I've never not found a mark before him, it was actually really frustrating…" he said, talking more naturally and easily than he had before with most of his attention focused on something else. He could feel his heart racing as he read through the pages. The first few were just about Cain. How he had become a demon. That was actually interesting even if none of what he was learning would help him track the mother fucker. Cain was the only demon specifically named though. After the chapter on him, the book went on to explain how because of him it had become possible for a human to turn. And what had to happen to said human for something like that to happen and Izzy found that for the first time that he could remember, he was grateful for something. He was really fucking grateful that he couldn't remember being human. Because this shit sucked.

Dean relaxed his shoulders when the other didn’t point out how obviously awkward his mistake was. It must have happened quite a bit and it was obvious as to why. Though he didn’t dwell on it for too long after catching Izzy mutter under his breath. So Izzy knew about Lucifer and over half of Hell’s plans to free him. Not too many hunters really knew what was going on, just that demons had been kicking up a shit storm lately. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the table Izzy was sitting on. He raised a brow when Izzy said he’d only found one and he couldn’t track him. “A mark?” He asked, not following him. “Do you think they could make more demons like that? I have a feeling they’d be a bitch in a fight.”

"Not a mark, my marks. Whatever demon I'm hunting at the time," Dean really did get kind of lucky that Izzy had found this book if he wanted to ask questions. The lithe demon was only half paying attention to whatever he was saying, basically only enough to make sure he didn't let the fact that he was one of these demons slip out. "Though he does actually have a mark that turned him in the first place. Didn't know that." Izzy nodded without hesitation at the other males next question though, "Definitely. Seriously time consuming and difficult, but not impossible. Looks like when it does happen, it's usually an accident. And they are definitely totally awesome in a fight. Stronger than a knight of hell but not quite as strong as a prince. And not easy to kill. Our knives won't kill one of them." The book didn't actually tell him that last part, he knew it from experience back when Asmodues was first training him. He had kinda lost his temper at the pretty little blond and actually fucking stabbed him with the same knife he now had hidden in his boot. All it did to the blond was piss him off though. It ruined the dress he was wearing and had left a nasty little scar in his side where he had been stabbed. "So unless you’re Cain with his first blade or have that Colt and bullets that you killed Azazel with, or yanno, a crazy person like me, I would avoid looking for one of them." He took in a deep breath as he slammed the book shut, trying to not let it be seen how incredibly fucking furious he was right now. Well, at least he knew why Asmodues was so keen on him not knowing how he turned. "So uh, yeah. Thanks for the info. Great fucking room ya got here. But I gotta go find a certain prince and tear his fucking head off somehow," Izzy said, his voice showing he obviously was not happy with what he just read if his words didn't give that part away. He was caring less and less about whatever fucking cover he was supposed to be playing here. He couldn't fully remember right now what he had let on that he knew about the man in the room with him but he no longer really cared. He pushed himself down from the table and went to move past Dean, "Nice to meet ya and all that shit and like, thanks for the help…" he paused for a moment to look at the hunter again, fuck it. Dean gave him access to the information he so desperately wanted, he figured he could return the favour with some info that Dean probably actually needed, "By the way, you really should probably get your brother away from Ruby because bitch has him all fucked up, pretty sure that people shouldn't actually be drinking demon blood the way he is. Pretty fucked up. So yeah. Gotta go."

“Oh they sound great,” Dean said when Izzy confirmed that more could be made this way. “Oh yea, awesome,” He shot back when Izzy went on about them and described them that way and mentioned that the knives were worthless against them. The only good thing that was mentioned was that apparently they were only ever made on accident and there were no rumored army’s full of them. He had noticed the others snapping of the book and the anger rolling off of him, clearly having read something he didn’t like. “Oh yea that sounds like a feasible plan, how do you plan on getting in Hel-?” He was cut off by the other male thanking him for the help. “Wait.” He said, not wanting the other to run off and get killed while half cocked. He didn’t get a chance to say anything else because what Izzy said after that shut him right up. “Wait, what the hell are you talking about?” He asked, his voice showing his own rising anger. “And how the hell do you know who he’s with?” He asked him. This ment Izzy knew who they were before he ran into him tonight. He started reaching for his pistol in a back holster without thinking much about it. “Who are you?” He asked, taking a step back and raising the fire arm.

Izzy rolled his eyes as Dean called after him when he turned and started to walk to the bunkers exit. If he did leave here right now, he really would go straight to the youngest prince and try and kill the fucker somehow. "Oh come on Dean, you're pretty and reckless but I didn't peg you for being stupid. I hunt demons. Ruby is a fucking demon. And your brother is running around with her. Do I really need to connect all the dots for you?" He stopped for a moment when he heard the click of the firearm and rolled his eyes again. Really? First time he ever tried to actually help someone else out and they pulled a gun on him. Not that Dean's pistol would actually hurt him, but he had been serious when he mentioned he liked this jacket. He didn't feel like throwing it out because of a bullet hole after he managed to actually keep it through the ambush.

He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. "I was after her. I really can't fucking stand her. Unfortunately for me, your junkie brother was in the way and I couldn't get close enough without having to kill him first, and since I don't kill humans that wasn't exactly an option." He waved his hand at the pistole pointed at him, looking more annoyed that Dean was pointing it at him than anything else, "But I swear to fuck if you pull that trigger that'll change real fucking fast as I will slit your fucking throat." He wasn't reaching for the knife though, he wasn't scared of the gun and wouldn't pull it unless Dean actually did attack him first. After all, he didn't know the bullet wouldn't hurt him, he would definitely be trying to kill him and Izzy didn't take well to that happening. Threats were usually whatever, a dime a dozen when you did what he did, but actually trying to do it was another thing completely. "Now do you wanna play this game with me too or do you mind if I go now?"

Dean narrowed his eyes when Izzy said he hunted demons. He didn’t say anything for a minute after Izzy said all that and threatened retaliation by cutting his throat. His jaw was tense but he eased the hammer back and lowered his gun. He didn’t like anything he had said. He just knew Izzy was keeping something from him but… he was telling the truth about his brother and Dean hated it. He kept his hard eyes on the blond as he put his gun back in his holster and he pulled out a small piece of paper from his back pocket and grabbed a forgotten pen on the table. He didn't say anything as he quickly jotted something down, folded it and handed it to him. “In case you do something stupid like take on a prince of hell and want back up,” he said, his voice was quiet and calm. His reboiling rage wasn’t aimed at the blond any more so he tried to keep it from exploding on him. He had seen what he could do with that knife of his.

The anger at the hunter seemed to dissipate when he withdrew his weapon and put it back in the holster. Smart move, because the little demon had been deadly fucking serious about retaliation if he tried to shoot him. When Dean handed him that paper and said that, Izzy couldn't stop the confused look that crossed his face. Seriously? We both just threatened to kill the other and Dean was offering to back him up again a second later? What the fuck went on in human fucking heads? He really didn't understand them at all. Especially this one. And this happened to be the first one he spent any length of time with. "Right. Not gonna happen, but thanks? The backup thing. The prince thing is totally happening." After nearly sixty years around Asmodeus, Izzy didn't hold any fear of him. The prince needed Izzy and they both knew it. Besides, that was a long time to spend with anyone, and since the prince had wanted Izzy a secret until he was ready he had been the one Izzy trained with most often before he started throwing demon chum his way to practice with. Izzy knew that mans every fucking move.

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